#aw look a one shot with all of the boys in it!

[hiraethwrote]

no shot - satoru gojo (& suguru geto)

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (main), suguru geto x f!reader ✧ summary: captivated by a mystery girl at a party, satoru is adamant in pursuing you. turns out is not as easy as it seems, and it doesnt help that his friend is also interested, and might have the upper hand. ✧ cw: some cursing, alcohol consumption, intoxication, sexual tension, teasing, lowkey dual pov, just fun ngl ✧ word count: 4.5k

“Who’s that?” Satoru asked, nudging his friend with his elbow, bringing his attention to the girl who was dancing on a table across the room.

“Hm? Oh, her. Shoko invited her,” Suguru answered, as Satoru couldn’t keep is eyes off this mystery girl.

“How come Shoko never told us she had friends like that?” He was in awe by this girl, as she was clearly the life of the party. Satoru took a quick glance at Suguru to see that he too was somewhat entranced by the girl, but tried his best not to make it too obvious.

“Think it’s just you. I’ve met her briefly before.” With that, Suguru captured Satoru’s full attention, a small, victorious smirk plastered on his face at the frustration he knew he was causing his friend.

“Unfair,” he whined. “How come Shoko introduced you?”

“Probably because I wouldn’t embarrass her,” Suguru snickered, which he quickly regretted. Just as he was about to take a swig from his drink, Satoru bumped into his elbow, causing him to spill down his shirt. “Asshole.”

“Ops,” Satoru said sweetly, Suguru staring daggers at him, desperately trying to wipe his shirt. As his chuckle trailed off, he turned his attention back to the girl.

She was still on top of the table, moving her body to the rhythm, a drink in her hand. There was something so captivating about her, and he wasn’t alone to think so. Around the table, she had an audience of admirers. Satoru found himself intrigued by how she was entirely in control, giving them just enough attention to keep them focused on her.

The next second, some random guy climbed up on the table and joined her, placing his hands on her hips. Turning around to face him, there was a mischievous grin on her lips. Slowly, she traced her fingers up his chest before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulled him down closer to whisper something in his ear. Whatever she said, it seemed to shatter his ego as his eager smile evaporated before he shamefully climbed down from the table.

“You know her name?” Satoru asked, leaning back against the wall.

“I might.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” A smile of disbelief on Satoru’s face.

“Why would I?” He could hear the smirk in Suguru’s voice. “You spilled my drink. Besides, you’re competition.”

Satoru instantly let out a taunting scoff. “That’s almost cute. We both know I’m the one going home with her.” It bothered him that Suguru seemed completely unfazed by his comment, the smirk still lingering on his lips as he took another swig of his drink.

“I feel tension,” Shoko cooed as she came stumbling over from the kitchen. “Are you guys bickering again?”

“It’s actually serious business,” Satoru said as he took a deep breath, straightening his posture. “Suguru actually thinks he stands a chance against me.” Shoko turns to look at Suguru in hopes of getting some context, only to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And this is about?”

“A girl,” Suguru answered simply. Shoko’s eyebrows raised in surprise, looking between the two boys.

“I don’t see why it would matter. You two never go for the same girl.”

“That’s until your friend came into the picture,” Satoru continued to explain, turning his head towards the girl. She had now climbed down from the table, and he saw her down a shot before slamming the glass down on the table in front of her.

“My friend-“ Shoko trailed off in confusion and she followed his gaze to see who he was looking at. A loud cackle escaped her once she saw the girl they were all staring at. “Ain’t happening.”

“What did I say!” Satoru cheered, teasing Suguru who just rolled his eyes, pretending it wasn’t getting to him.

“No, no-“ she laughed. “I mean, neither of you stand a chance.” They both narrowed their eyebrows at her.

“That’s ridiculous, look at me.” A huge grin flashed over Satoru’s face, showing of his charm. Over Shoko’s shoulder, he saw Suguru keeping a close eye on the mystery girl, still trying to make it look casual.

“I’m surprised you’re into her, Suguru,” she said excitedly, turning towards the raven haired boy. A small, cheeky smile grew on his lips.

“Don’t encourage him!” Satoru interrupted. He looked like a child, nearly stomping his feet with frustration, most likely caused by the alcohol in his system.

She shakes her head, the excitement quickly disappearing as she brings her focus back to the conversation. “Besides the point. Just believe me when I say, neither of you are going to get with her.”

“Can you at least tell me her name?”

“Don’t tell him. It’s fun to watch him squirm,” Suguru interjected.

“You’re on your own, Satoru,” she said with a devilish grin. She hooked her arm with Suguru’s and pulled him after her towards the balcony, probably for a cigarette, leaving Satoru standing alone.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It hadn’t taken Shoko a lot of convincing to get you to join her for the evening. You never shied away from a party, as it had a tendency to do wonders for your confidence. When drunk, you felt like you lost some of your inhabitants, just to the point where you were able to offer more of yourself than usual.

Not to mention, it wasn’t just the alcohol that got you drunk, but also the atmosphere. Tons of people just enjoying the music, talking to each other and letting the alcohol flow. As long as you didn’t take it too far, you had no reason to complain.

Now you found yourself on top of a table, dancing and singing along to the music blasting through the house. Around the table were some desperate fellas, trying to get your attention. Every once in a while you shot them a look and a smile, which kept them around to feed your ego a little longer.

It was just cheap enjoyment, as being perceived as attractive by sleazy men who’d sleep with anything that let them, wasn’t something to brag about. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t like having their eyes on you.

Your enjoyment was somewhat haltered when you felt a pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around. The man who met you was relatively handsome, you’d admit. His dark hair complimenting his sharp features. But as his eyes traveled your body, you saw a look in them that you didn’t appreciate.

Meeting his gaze again, you teased him with a smile and a quick glance at his lips. You trailed your fingers up his chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly, before grabbing his black t-shirt to pull him down. His ear was right by your lips, as you whispered “brave of you to come up here and join me, as if you have a chance.” When you pulled away, the lust in his look had evaporated and had been replaced by an expression of shear embarrassment.

He climbed down from the table, shrinking as he walked away with his pride wounded. And yet again, your confidence was boosted. Something about rejecting desperate guys, who might have stood a chance if they were just acting decent, filled you with some sorts of joy.

Pulling your attention back to the party, one of your other girl friends grabbed your hand and pulled you down from the table before shoving a full shot glass into your hand. She didn’t have to ask you twice, downing the shot in one go and slamming it down on the table, a loud cheer escaping the two of you as you did so.

Eagerly, you grabbed her hand and pulled her into the crowd to dance, planing to just spend the rest of the evening with your friends. However, that plan was quickly ruined when you crashed right into what seemed to be a firm chest and a pair of strong hands grabbed your arms to steady you. A small lump began to grow inside you when you saw you’re friend give a big-eyed stare at whoever was standing behind you, swallowing the lump she had in her own throat.

“I’ll leave you two,” she said with a drunk giggle and she was gone before you had the opportunity to keep her from leaving. With a sigh, you turned around, preparing yourself to meet whatever creep was trying to get with you next.

But when you turned around, you were met by a tall figure. Your eyes traveled up his body until you met his face. Whoever he was, he was devastatingly beautiful, wearing a flattering smile, his snow white hair styled simply to hang just slightly over his eyes. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed him in the crowd during the evening. With his tall stature, he did kind of stick out in the crowd.

“Careful there,” he spoke, his voice playful with the facial expression to match it.

“Sorry,” you said loudly so he could hear you. “Didn’t see you.”

Smoothly he leaned forward towards your ear. “What’s your name?” He began to pull away so he could look at you, but you quickly grabbed his shoulder to keep him on your level so you wouldn’t have to talk so loudly. But in the corner of your eye, you saw a cheeky smirk creep on his face when your hand touched him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would actually,” he said before pulling away for real this time, his eyes staring directly into yours. It was so evident what his intentions were. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, thank you.” You’re smile was sweet as sugar, but it seemed he saw right through your act, licking his teeth at your response.

“I don’t doubt that.” Your eyes lingered on his face as he took a quick glance around the room. You were truly mesmerised by his beauty, but it seemed like his ego didn’t need your confirmation so you weren’t going to let him know. It seemed the universe was working against you, as someone bumped straight into you causing you to be pressed up against the stranger once again. You were suddenly thankful the lights were dimmed, so he wouldn’t be able to see how your cheeks were tinted light pink.

He suddenly grabbed your hand and started escorting you through the crowd, making the path easy for you. Eventually, you felt a sense of relief the moment you were reintroduced to some fresh air, making you realise how stuffed it was inside.

“Now, isn’t this better? Now we can actually talk.” He towered over you, skillfully playing into the impression he wanted to give of.

“Seeing you took me hostage out here,” you sighed as you jumped up on the porch banister.

“You’re feisty, aren’t you?” The smirk never left his face. You felt one make its way to the corner of your mouth as well, but it was one out of self satisfactory.

“You’d be surprised it really sieves out the worst of them.” It was true. From your experience, if you played too hard to get, to the point where the reward would never be worth the work, it seemed to keep the biggest sleazes away at least.

“I’m Gojo. Satoru Gojo.” He surprised you when he actually extended his hand for you to shake. You politely shook it, as the realisation of who he was dawned on you.

“Oh, you’re Shoko and Suguru’s friend.” He couldn’t help but get annoyed at your comment, as he imagined Suguru’s satisfied smile if he’d heard what you said.

He wasn’t going to let that get to him. “So you’ve heard of me,” confidence oozing from his voice.

“Your name might have come up at one point,” you shrugged simply. That was a lie. He’d been brought up in conversation on multiple occasions, but you were under no circumstances going to let him know that.

“Funny you say that, because Shoko has never mentioned you.” You couldn’t help roll your eyes at his lame attempt at teasing you.

“I think that might be more because of you rather than me.”

It surprised you to see how fragile his ego really was. Sure, he was beyond confident and he rarely let it waver. Nonetheless, his cocky front took a hit at every comment you threw at him, and he worked hard to keep up his appearance. It gave you a reason to believe that his ego was more an act than anything else. It was clear he was an extroverted individual who enjoyed the attention he received, but there was something deeper lurking just beneath the surface. And as much as you hated to admit it, that secret depth he was hiding made you want to crack through that exterior.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, glossing over your comment. He took one step closer to you, your eyes never breaking contact as he did.

“Y/n,” you spoke softly, letting your eyes flicker to his lips. He repeated your name back to you, smooth as silk, creating a reaction within you that you had no control over. It sounded so beautiful when he said it so passionately, like he already knew you. “Is this how you get the girls? All natural charm, pretending like you’re genuinely interested?”

He scoffed at you, the smirk still present. “Who says I’m pretending?” He continued to inch closer to you.

“What?” A somewhat patronising chuckle escaped you. “You telling me a guy like you puts in real efforts with strangers at parties?”

“A guy like me? Meaning what?”

“Cocky.” Your statement was only confirmed by his chuckle. It absolutely frustrated you that you actively had to fight against his charm that came so easy to him.

Whenever you attended parties, you never planned to go home with anyone. Quite the opposite, if you were honest. After a few one night stands here and there, you’d quickly become aware it wasn’t for you. The only part of that process you found entertaining was some sort of confirmation that you were desirable. The guys who usually tried to get with you had the same amount of charisma as a rock, so turning them away was a piece of cake.

But Gojo wasn’t like your run-of-the-mill guy hitting on you at a party. Where most guys gave up, he stood proud. His natural charm was slowly but surely chipping away at your cold front, and you hated it. You craved the control, but it seemed he might have the stronger hand.

“Well, I’d like to say I have something to cocky about.”

“Narcissism isn’t attractive.”

“So you say, but you’re still sitting here.” He got you there. In no way was he forcing himself on you or demanding anything from you. It was unspoken that you were allowed to leave at any point if you wanted to, but you couldn’t get yourself to jump down from the railing and leave him standing.

“Maybe I just enjoy the attention,” you simply shrugged.

“That I know.” You squinted your eyes at him, signalling for him to continue his statement. “When you were dancing, you loved having them look at you. You fed on it.”

All you did was smile, biting you bottom lip. You never flirted like this, and if your friends had seen you now, they would never let you hear the end of it. How you usually took pride in being unobtainable, but now you were suddenly folding for some random guy at a party. Not to mention, one of Shoko’s closest friends.

You’d been so hypnotised by him that you hadn’t noticed he had approached you to the point where he had gracefully positioned himself between your legs, his hands resting on each side of you. Your heart was pounding against your chest and he continued to lean in closer. Having him so close to you definitely made your mind run wild with ideas. The party-girl in you was so tempted to hook your arm around his neck to pull him closer and connect your lips, let him have his way with you. But you didn’t want him to win so easily.

Just as he was about to kiss you, you turned your head to the side and he winced in disappointment. You chuckled drunkenly as he straightened his posture, but remaining between your legs and now resting his hands on your thighs.

“You’re a tease.” He tried to act offended, but you had a sneaking suspicion he enjoyed the chase as much as you did.

“I’m the tease? Do I have to remind you who is pursuing who here?” You felt his hands give you a soft squeeze, forcing you to focus on keeping your breath steady. His touch was so tender, like he ached for it, but careful not to hurt you.

“Still, you’re the one who begs for attention.” He tried to lean in closer again, ever the arrogant smile on his lips. Carefully, with just the lightest touch, you place your fingertips on his soft lips to stop him again.

“I never beg for it,” you said rather matter-of-factly. “It’s not my fault people give it so willingly.”

If it was even possible, he wanted you more now than he did earlier. At first, it was just your aura that had attracted him. Radiating assertiveness, something he’d always found intriguing. It wasn’t a secret he was spoiled in several arenas of his life, used to people just handing him stuff. So the second someone who didn’t fall at his feet came along, he knew he had to know more.

Then he’d gotten the opportunity to take a look at you up close, and that won him over completely. You were nothing less of stunning, he thought. Your eyes sparkled with a sense of adventure, and your smile was warm and kind. Not to mention the way you carried yourself, so sure of who you were.

“Have you ever been told you’re quite persistent?”

“Nah, not really. I never have to be.” You let out a snort that quickly turned into a small chuckle, your fingers now resting carefully on his chest. If you focused your attention to the touch, you swore you could feel his heart beating incredibly fast.

“You’re truly a character.” It might have sounded like an insult, but it wasn’t meant as one. Luckily, it didn’t seem he took offence.

His shoulders rose quickly in a small shrug. “I’m just used to getting what I want.”

“If what you want is a quick fuck, I’m a hundred percent sure there’s tons of girls inside willing to give it to you without all the hassle.” He just slowly shook his head ‘no’ as you spoke, his hand finding its way to your neck. Carefully, he placed his thumb under your jawline and slowly tilted your head backwards for better access.

Fucking hell, the things he was doing to you. Once again he was leaning in closer, ever so smug. But this time, you were doing nothing to stop him. Finally you were surrendering yourself to him, preparing to lose the battle that had gone unsaid.

You’d closed your eyes, your knees slightly clenching at his hips with anticipation. So ready for his lips to finally collide against yours, but you were startled when Gojo jerked away.

Opening your eyes, Gojo was no wearing an irritated face as a strong hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Is this man bothering you, miss?” A groan could be heard from Gojo at the presence of his best friend. Well— now former best friend.

Reluctantly Gojo took a respectable step back, but still staying close to you. Once he was no longer so dangerously close to you, you felt some tension leave your body with a deep breath you were unaware you had been holding.

“Suguru,” you beamed, jumping down from the railing and quickly embracing him in a genuine hug, before nonchalantly positioning yourself beside Gojo again. “It’s great to see you again.”

Your excitement didn’t go unchecked by Gojo, who was scowling at Suguru. The two boys shared a knowing look, and Satoru had a strong desire to wipe off that contempt smile Suguru was wearing. Both you and Suguru knew each other a lot better than you’d previously let on, which bothered him more than it should have. He had no idea to what degree you knew each other, if it was simply a friendly coffee or if you’d slept together. Either way, Suguru was having the time of his life torturing his friend.

“Same to you. You look as beautiful as always.”

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

“You two seem to be getting along nicely.” You turned your head to look at Gojo, who had turned a lot more tense than he was mere moments ago.

Your competitive side was more than pleased by Suguru’s arrival, saving you from the agonising future of waking up besides Gojo the next morning and admitting defeat. But it would be a complete and utter fabrication to say you weren’t disappointed.

“Pfft, ‘getting along’ might be taking it too far.” You had managed to regain some of the feisty personality, as Gojo had put it. You didn’t have to look at him to know he had turned his attention to you again, his stare drilling into you.

“You’re quite the liar,” Gojo chuckled, tossing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer. His movements were a lot more sharp and drastic, unlike before Suguru joined you. It dawned upon you, as you saw them look at each other, saying a whole lot without speaking a word.

You’re evening had somehow circled back to where it started, by having your confidence boosted. They were fighting over you, the looks between them saying everything. Maybe you should just be thankful Suguru joined after all. You had to press your lips together in a thin line to choke back the laughter bubbling up.

You rolled your eyes at Gojo’s comment, but in reality you were finding the whole interaction quite enjoyable. “Maybe just enough to bring him along to coffee next time,” you said, knowingly fuelling the fire. Gojo’s body tensed up even more against you. Suguru shifted his focus from his friend to you, making eye contact.

The intensity of his look told you he hadn’t come over just to piss off his friend, but also because he himself genuinely wanted to pursue you as well. You had to break the eye contact as your cheeks began to heat, taking a deep breath through your nose. Unlike Gojo, Suguru was calm and laidback. It made him attractive in a completely different way than Gojo, the kind of attractive that snuck up on you.

Gojo’s confidence was built on a fundament of knowing what people thought of him, aware that people found him attractive. Whereas Suguru’s was rooted in the fact that he didn’t care what people thought of him. And if he had been into you the period you’d known each other and respectfully not made a move, just made him more appealing to you.

“Coffee, huh?” The look Gojo gave his friend only seemed to amuse him more. “Briefly, my ass,” he whispered under his breath. only you being able to hear it.

How had you ended up here? You’d had a perfect plan of your evening. Dance, drink, flirt innocently, and generally have a good time. Then these two guys had come along and turned the evening upside down. They’d proven themselves to not be like the guys that usually pursued you, which had you losing you’re wit. You’d never imagined that happening at a house party like this.

“Just a suggestion,” you shrugged. As you did, Gojo’s arm left your shoulders and traveled down to the small of your back, leaving a trail of fire as he did. Suguru let his stoic attitude slip for a split second, his eyes flickering to Gojo’s arm as he moved it.

"We were kind of in the middle of something here." Finally Satoru had been pushed to the point where he wanted to shoo Suguru away, hoping his sudden appearance hadn't spoiled his chances entirely. He still felt as there was a chance, as he felt your body react to his genle touch against his back.

"Sorry about that. I just felt it would have been rude of me not to at least say hi to her while she was here." He's good, Satoru thought to himself. Suguru had such a comfortable charm and he was milking it to his advantage. He seemed so genuinely apologetic for interrupting. Satoru didn't buy it for a second.

"I'm so glad you did!" You jumped in, trying to distract yourself from Gojo's hand that was slowly rubbing circles on your back.

"What the hell is going on here?" A shrieking voice interrupted you, making all three of you flinch before finding the source of the voice. Shoko came stomping over towards you, making Gojo quickly retreat his hand. "You guys are unbelievable!"

"Shoko! Where have you been?" The tone in Gojo's voice was entirely different, and was now playful and childish. One couldn't imagine the scene that had taken place just minutes earlier listening to him now.

"Drop the act, Satoru!" Her anger did seem real, so you were just glad it wasn't directed at you. "Give her some room to breathe!" Forcefully she grabbed your arm and pulled you to stand beside her.

"Shoko-" Suguru tried to intervene.

"Shush, you're supposed to be the behaved one!" You were the only one having a good time, finding Shoko's protectiveness cute. The two guys, on the other hand, had both lost their confidence. She turns to look at you. "The girls were gathering for pictures when we couldn't do it without you."

You smiled sweetly at her before turning to the guys again. "Nice meeting you, Gojo." Your eyes gave him a flirtatious look, teasing him that he might have gotten lucky if you hadn't been interrupted. You turned to Suguru and gave him the same look. "And I'll see you around." You turned away from them, before you and Shoko entered the house again.

"Do not tell me that Satoru actually managed to make you fold?" She said through gritted teeth.

"No..." you said carefully, her head turning to fully look at you. "He might have been able to if Suguru hadn't interrupted."

"You're dissapointing me, y/n," she sighed dramatically. "So much for being unobtainable."

"I didn't do anything! My reputation is still intact!" You were desperately trying to defend yourself. "Don't tell any of the girls please!" She squinted at you, a smirk growing on her lips.

"Do a shot with me, and your secret's safe!"

"Deal!"

Back on the porch, Satoru and Suguru had been left in the dust, neither able to get lucky. "I swear to god, Suguru-" Satoru sighed.

Suguru simply shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. He tried to fight back a satisfied smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought it wouldn't be a problem I came over. You seemed so sure she was going home with you." Satoru instantly flicked Suguru's forehead in petty frustration.

"Idiot."

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a/n: okay, i really struggled to find a way to end this, and it shows lol. I hate the ending, but for the most part i like it. but i wanted to try something different. even before this account, when ive written in my sparetime, its usually angst so wanted to challenge myself by something different. hope you like it <3 likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

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[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I remembered the song All Dolled Up by theOrionExperience and realised that it's SO Holydust besties coded!! A fun night out to forget their troubles for a few hours and just enjoy each other's company.

You can take this as a writing prompt if you feel like writing about it <33

Indigo (platonic holydust advocate)

As a fellow platonic holydust advocate I'm in! And somehow I made it about Adamsapple angst lol It's my superpower apparently.

Feel free to send more prompts/asks!

"Hey, you wanna go out and get fucked up tonight?" Angel asked Adam as he stood in the sinners doorway.

Oh boy did Adam need some fun. "Fuck yeah, ready when you are."

"Great, let's go." Adam followed Angel out and down to the lobby. He didn't miss the side eye that Angel gave Husk. "We're going out, later."

"Where are you going?" Lucifer asked from his spot on the couch.

Adam rolled his eyes. "Out. Later." He stomped out the front door. "Everything okay with you and whiskers?"

Angel snorted, "I could ask you the same thing about his majesty."

Adam looked away scowling. "Fair enough."

"I'm too sober for this shit, let's get plastered."

Adam and Angel went to a popular club in Hell, where they did shots and drank so much their blood was more alcohol than ichor by midnight.

"Can you believe he said that he wanted to slow shit down? Like shit baby if we go any slower we'll turn into fucking snails! We haven't even fucked yet." Angel drunkenly ranted as he downed another shot.

Adam hummed, taking his own. "At least you don't have everyone making fucking jabs at you about being the King's fucking boy toy. Saying that you're just a royal cock sleeve til his cunt wife comes home."

Angel frowned. "Okay you win. That sounds fucking awful. Who the fuck said that? I'll fuck them up for you!"

Adam laughed. "It's mostly that Bambi motherfucker but he doesn't know shit! What Luci and I have is real!...... I hope." He looked down sadly at the table they were drinking at. Adam felt his lip quiver.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"Of course I do! I always have, I don't really believe in all that soulmate bullshit but if I did, I'm pretty sure he'd be mine...... Why else would it hurt this bad? All I ever wanted was for him to love me." Get a few drinks into Adam and he becomes super honest. "I never forgot him. How could I? I tried so fucking hard to hate him Angel, but I can't, not really."

"Well, if he can't wake up and smell the fucking coffee and see how great you are then it's his loss bud. Someone will see it." Angel tried, it was hard to be comforting while half snapped. Sure, him and Husk had issues but they were any sized compared to Adam and Lucifer's drama. Dating a King comes with King sized drama, who knew. "I thought you guys were dating."

"Who fucking knows. Fucker sends so many mixed signals."

"Let's forget about all this shit for now and just have a good time, yeah? We need it." Angel said handing him another shot.

Adam downed it in one go. "Fuck yeah."

By the time they got home to the hotel, it was only Lucifer and Husk still waiting up in the lobby for their boyfriends. Adam and Angel burst through the door laughing and joking.

Adam plopped down on the couch next to Lucifer and Angel was taken to bed by Husk who wished he had breath mints for his baby.

Adam looked at the king. "Heyyyyy.~" He leaned over and poked Lucifer on the cheek. "How you doing?"

"You're fucking drunk as hell."

"Nah uh, you're drunk and short." Adam burst into a fit of laughter at his own joke and Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully.

"Yup, very drunk. Can you even walk?" Lucifer asked as he moved to stand in front of Adam.

Adam picked up his leg and looked down at his foot. He gasped loudly. "Oh my god! I have no toes!" Lucifer had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Apparently drunk Adam forgot he had hooves.

"Those have been there the whole time, Adam."

"And you weren't gonna fucking tell me? Rude." Adam pouted and crossed his arms. He whined when Lucifer picked him up bridal style and held him close. "Hey!"

"Shhh, let's get you to bed." Lucifer thought about placing Adam in his own room, but decided to take him to his instead. Really, he was there so much they might as well just share the damn room.

Adam had taken to playing with Lucifer's bow tie and looking intently at the king. He felt his heart flutter, he loved Luci so much. He wrapped his arms more securely around Lucifer's neck and placed a kiss on his cheek before nuzzling his face into the king's neck breathing in his smell. Brimstone and something more earthy Adam couldn't place.

This surprised Lucifer, Adam wasn't one for gushy feelings or showing of affection. But he'll take what he can get.

Lucifer sat Adam down on the bed and helped him under the covers. Once he was settled, Lucifer got in on the other side. He watched Adam lay there, looking all around until his eyes landed on Lucifer. "Why don't you love me?"

Lucifers eyes went wide. "What are you talking about? I do love you."

Adam sniffed and looked away sadly. "That's not what I hear..."

Lucifer would really rather have this conversation with a sober Adam. "Look, I don't know what people are saying but listen to me when I say this. I love you, Adam. You mean the fucking world to me." He placed his hand on Adams cheek.

"Yeah?" Adam gave him a teary smile.

"Yes." Lucifer kissed him sweetly, he tasted like tequila. "Get some sleep, dove." Adam held out his arms and Lucifer chuckled. Drunk Adam was also very clingy. "Come here, you."

Adam snuggled against Lucifer's chest and sighed happily, he was even happier when he felt a hand in his hair messaging it gently.

Lucifer would have to be sure to show Adam how much he means to him. When he was sober of course.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #platonic holydust #ask

[greenninjagal-blog]

Space Time Equations

Hello its a lovely day and I’m here to make it lovelier with a new installment of the Space and Everything In It series (aka my Alien au staring human Virgil and Janus)

Summary: As the two resident Deathworlders on the ship, Virgil and Janus have to make a decision. Although its not much of one at all. Both of them seem to be on the same page about what they want to their future to be like.... right?

Word Count: 9364

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws 

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

“Erso.”

“No.”

“Amidala.”

“No.”

“Skywalker?” 

“Virgil,” Janus said without even bothering to open his eyes. “So help me, if you say one more word I am going to smother you with this pillow.”

Virgil gently dragged his fingers through Janus’s blond curls for another moment, humming softly to himself as he had been doing for a good portion of the phisannu that they had been laying here together. Janus smelled like lavender, soft and calming and Virgil breathed in the scent, with every inhale, feeling hazy and soft in a way that he couldn’t remember being before. 

“Organa?” 

And Janus, who was not a liar, who did not joke about this sort of thing, who did not pull punches or know the meaning of the word mercy, jerked around and slammed the heaviest, thickest pillow they had into Virigl’s face as hard as he could.

Admittedly, it did hurt. Just a little. He hadn’t quite gotten around to asking which of the numerous thousands of alien animals out there went into creating a pillow like the ones one the Mindscape, but their fur-feathers-fluff-whatever could get dense when it was packed together, which is how Janus liked his pillows for some reason, even back on Earth: weaponizable.

Virgil has found that the longer he spent around Janus, the more he remembered these little memories too: laying on Janus’s bed staring up at the ceiling because he was on the softest bed in the world, with a rock hard pillow under his head, and his brain wouldn’t stop whispering about how there was really only a handful of inches between them, that if he really wanted to he could roll over and drape himself over Janus’s arm and if Janus freaked out he could pretend he was asleep and hadn’t realized what he was doing, that if he was lucky, Janus wouldn’t wake up and Virgil would get to spend a few hours listening to his heartbeat and imagining they lived in a world where Virgil was a little braver and capable of actually asking Janus out and not scared to death of what would happen if he said "yes". 

Of course, Virgil wouldn’t dare admit that he had these thoughts to Janus now, but he held onto those memories that kept coming back like they were life preservers in the middle of the ocean that he somehow found himself drowning in. Patton, Logan, and Roman had done so well holding him afloat for so long, but now he could roll over and stare at Janus and he could thread the waves himself--

The pillow missed his head by a scant few inches. 

“Solo?” Virgil gasped out ducking as another pillow reared back again.

“Go! To! Sleep!” Janus said, punctuating each word with a hit from his pillow shaped boulder. “Asshole!” 

Or at least that was what Virgil assumed he was saying. Virgil really was laughing too hard to make it out. He blocked a hit of the pillow with his left arm, and quickly flung another pillow into Janus’s stomach while he was distracted. 

Janus’s laughter reminded Virgil of the sunlight streaming in through the windows of Janus’s room back on earth, of the surprising warmth of the pool water after Janus pushed him in at two thirty eight in the morning, of the electrifying feel of Janus’s hand over his mouth as Janus’s mother walked by the closet they were hiding in on her way to deal with some important emergency at her rich person job, unaware that Janus and Virgil just finished cleaning the dishes from the cookies they baked that were all wrapped in napkins and stuffed in Virgil’s pockets, nearly burning his hands-- 

Virgil’s own lips curled up at the sound, feeling his own (much more dumb sounding) laugh bubbling up his throat in the most disgusting display of absolute smitteness. It would be embarrassing; Virgil was embarrassed about it. Janus could be shoving a knife into his ribcage and Virgil would be entirely okay with it so long as he continued to look at Virgil the way that he was doing it right now. He couldn’t even imagine what type of grief Roman would give him if he knew that Virgil was capable of such smittenness. Logan had already made his concerns very well known, and look how well that had gone!

Janus snatched Virgil’s sole pillow away and tossed it somewhere behind him in the nest of blankets the two of them had made in the common area and waved his own threateningly in the air over Virgil’s prone body. 

“I’m armed and dangerous! Surrender!” he commanded, panting slightly as he fixed his golden hair back into a semi presentable state, trying to press away his smile by sheer force of will.

“Has anyone ever told you you're a complete bully?” Virgil asked with a teasing smile, even when Janus smacked him again in the face. “This is a breach of my human rights! Freedom of speech!” 

“We’re in SPACE!” 

“I’m still a human!”

“You’re going to be a corpse if you don’t shut up!”

“I love when you threaten me,” Virgil said and watched the glorious red blush take over Janus’s face from behind the pillow being smacked into his face again. “I love you.”

“Shut Up,” Janus said back, and Virgil almost thought he might be begging, if begging was ever a thing that those pesky Ekans were taught. 

Without giving Janus much more than a second to prepare himself, Virgil sat up and snatched the pillow from Janus's already distracted hands. Janus let it go without too much of a struggle, content to catch his breath as Virgil reached through the infinite inches between them and cupped the side of Janus's face, as gently as he would hold a thunderstorm in a glass ornament. His fingers had memorized Janus’s cheek, his strangely cool skin, the way that a single touch sent electric shivers through Virgil, but there was always something invigorating about doing it, about Janus allowing him to do it, about how at least one of young-Virgil’s dreams had come true.

The faint scar lines on his cheek were barely visible now, far more distant than the actual memories of the Pol’tur ship and Janus’s previous crew. In certain lights, Virgil had noted that it looked almost like golden cracks on his seamless skin, like elaborate stage makeup that could be brushed away to reveal that picture perfect memory of that boy that had been Virgil’s entire world, as if with a careless movement Virgil would erase everything that had happened between Earth and now.

Something in his chest twisted and Virgil shoved it down as hard and sharply as he could.

Janus had missed a few wisps of hair that floated lightly in an invisible wind out of his tidy hair cut, and his breaths came out in undignified huffs that would have been unbecoming and unthinkable if they were still back on Earth. He was wearing another one of Virgil's Quitan-cut shirts that promotes some…retail resort or something in Quintarian, something so cheap that the dye was likely to bleed onto his skin. He's staring at Virgil with a lightness in those eyes of his that he couldn't have learned from his parents, his friends, Earth itself.

He wasn’t the same as he was back then. Virgil wasn’t the same and he didn’t want either of them to be.

Janus’s lips were soft pink, like sparkling rosé wine, a hint of his tongue as he licked to wet them in a suddenly shy manner. Virgil suddenly couldn’t look away from them, from the curve of Janus’s jaw and the soft skin of his neck that Virgil suddenly had a very stupid thought to start kissing.

Super stupid. The most stupid.

So extremely stupid, in fact that Janus leaned forward, muscles rolling until he was in Virgil's lap, and each and every one of their atoms were singing about it and Virgil still almost thought that he had slipped into dreamland and started hallucinating this whole thigh.

Thing. Not thigh. Though that was 100% Janus’s thigh right there.

"This okay?" Janus whispered cautiously, as if a single hitch if Virgil’s breath would be enough to scare him to the other side of the room, straight through the walls and into the void around them. 

There could be galaxies exploding around them, and Virgil wouldn't have even noticed.

“More than,” he whispered back, his lungs traitorously out of breath, mouth strangely dry, the urge to say so many stupid things-- “You… you are very pretty.”

“So I’ve been told,” Janus said, half teasing. His arms snaked around Virgil’s torso, coming to a rest on the waistband of Virgil’s pajamas. The whole world breathed for an eternity, in and out, in and out and in and--

“You’re not so bad looking yourself,” Janus hummed, barely a hair’s breadth away from Virgil’s lips himself. Virgil could turn his head and kiss him and Janus would probably be really into that. 

“I think we were supposed to be sleeping,” and why did he say that.

Janus laughed, warm and flattering and it does not make Virgil’s brain do anything other than short circuit like one of his dumb robots. 

“I seem to recall,” Janus said. “That I was sleeping, and that there was someone else here who was not sleeping.”

“Sounds like a dumbass.” please someone just shoot him with a blaster right now.

“I still like him,” Janus said. His fingers tapped on his waist, slowly and methodically and very dangerously. Virgil’s chest froze, his heart beating so rapidly that he was pretty sure that Janus could hear it, based on that smirk that followed. Avenged Sevenfold could probably make a bomb ass song with just his heartbeat as the drums.

“Do you?”

He didn’t even realize he’d spoken until Janus’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly Virgil wanted to melt into a puddle of Deathworlder goo and pretend he didn’t exist at all. It was pathetic, his voice breaking without warning like he really cared all that much about Janus liking him. He did care. He cared so much.

Being the center of Janus’s care, being  the object of his affection was something that younger-Virgil would have scoffed about, but now that he had it, now that he was it, Virgil could see exactly why so many people let the Ekans family stomp over them for it.

((“Don’t you have somewhere to be little Cikery? Go back to sleep. In your bed or Janus’s. I don’t care.”

“Something tells me you actually do.”))

 Why so many people lost their fucking minds over Janus’s addictive attention.

“I do,” Janus said in that tone of his that spoke laws of physics into the world, that made people stop to listen, that made Virgil almost believe him all the time. “Nothing he can do can really make me stop liking him. Not even him disrupting the best chance of sleep that I’ve had since Remus knocked me out with his toxin, oh when was that? Three days ago? Speaking of, are you going to tell me what the two of you talked about?”

((“You just turn right around, get into that escape pod, and eject yourself into space.”))

“What?” Virgil stuttered, blinking away the sudden onslaught of Remus’s stupid face peering out from the darkness. “I didn’t-- we didn’t--” 

“Virgil.” 

“Just a totally friendly conversation!” Virgil said. “I don’t even remember what we talked about!”

It wasn’t entirely a lie and Virgil wasn’t entirely a coward; Remus was several layers of conversation stacked on each other with a knife shaped core that cut anything that got close and every time Virgil thought about their late night rendezvous he got a worse feeling in his chest about it. 

After Remus had gone to bed, Virgil had somehow stumbled back to his own room and spent the rest of the night staring at the little lights of his glowing plants and thinking far too much about nothing at all. He thought that when the morning broke, he would tell everyone that Remus was… and that was as far as he had gotten because he wasn’t sure what Remus was at all. 

He was insane, except not really. He was dangerous, except not exactly? He was a captain, except not anymore. 

So in the end… Virgil hadn’t said anything about Remus nearly killing him and Remus hadn’t said anything about Virgil almost killing him in turn, and Roman had complained something terrible about a hangover at breakfast and everyone else had acted as if they hadn’t noticed anything unusual. To Virgil’s knowledge no one had been into the Transporter Room since then and no one had asked after things that were mysteriously missing from around the ship, and no one had pointed out that Virgil had some form of PTSD that was diagnosable by alien standards.

But Janus was staring at him like he could see the bruising around Virgil’s neck that he had been religiously using a skrad healing pad to get rid of since the other night.  

“Remus doesn’t do “friendly” conversations,” Janus said, like someone with a very long list of examples in his back pocket.

“Exactly!” Virgil said. “He was looking for tips on how to do it! And asked me. The expert on friendly, completely normal, non-fighting conversations that do not involve nearly killing each other at all.”

Janus was silent for a whole minute, letting Virgil come to terms with every word that he just spewed into the air. Virgil almost thought that maybe he would let him get away with it too, just for the sheer audacity of the attempt; the same way that some of Virgil’s teacher’s used to let him get away with doing only a fourth of their homework for the full completion grade just so he wouldn’t be completely failing their classes.

“You are a terrible liar,” Janus’s lips pressed together in that way that read as both amusement and annoyance and Virgil offered his best approximation of mental regret and apologies via telepathy that he doesn’t have.

“Can we get back to kissing?”

Janus leaned forward just enough to peck his cheek, short, sharp, and definitely too quick for Virgil to catch with his own lips. It was horribly unfair that Janus could use such a tactic with the ease of a master magician, and yet Virgil somehow always ended up the fool for him. 

“You’ll get more when you tell me what’s up with you and Remus.”

As far as cruel and unusual punishments, Virgil thought that this might have been the cruelest. Of course, Janus wouldn’t know anything about that though, tap, tap, tapping his fingers on Virgil’s waist teasingly, and lording the scent of lavender over Virgil’s head. He was used to how his own silva tasted and didn’t know that Virgil was finding himself with a horrible, terrible shortage of Janus silva in his mouth.

Jesus Christ what is wrong with him; what was that fucking sentence--?

 “How did you even know we talked?” Virgil whined.

Janus huffed another laugh, running one of his fingers in a circle on Virgil’s hip. “Well, first of all, I have eyes, Virgil.”

Okay, so what? He probably noticed that Virgil had been very quick to evacuate locations where Remus suddenly appeared. That wasn’t totally unusual; before the other night Virgil’s run-ins with Remus had been non-existent and neither of them had even been trying to avoid one another. 

Or well Virgil hadn’t been trying to avoid Remus. He wasn’t sure if Remus had been avoiding him, avoiding what he represented, avoiding the urge to rip out Virgil’s spine and sell it to his Black Market Alien Friends Who Might Not Have Actually Been Friends Because Remus Wasn’t Actually All That Bad And Now Remus Was Crewless And Virgil Is Intimately Aware Of How Horrible It Can Be To Be Alone. 

Fuck. 

“Can we talk about something else? Please. Or even go back to not talking at all! I won’t say anything and you can sleep.”

Janus hummed in that way that sounded exactly like his mother and Virgil (remembered the Robotics Competition, the Police Investigation, the TV Interviews--) used all his will power to suppress his flinch. 

“Virgil,” Janus said.

“It wasn’t important. Just a talk between two guys! Nothing’s going to come of it. You can trust me about that, right?”

Janus hesitated, and Virgil felt very much like he had taken a cheap shot on him, even though trust hadn’t really ever been a question between them. Their relationship had started with Janus trusting Virgil with the most dangerous secret he had, and Virgil had taken it right to Janus’s grave with him, lips sealed even when Janus’s parents had painted him into the monster that suited their needs.

Not that Janus knew that. Not that Janus had any reason to suspect that Virgil had been the sole inheritor of blame for every bad thing on Earth. Not that Virgil was ever going to tell Janus if he could help it.

Virgil was a coward by nature, born and bred, and running away from conversations was just something wired into him intuitively.

“Okay,” Janus said finally, voice low and rumbling and still somehow clearly enunciated. He rolled his tongue over the Common Word, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth when he said it. “Okay, Virgil, I trust you.”

Virgil delicately brings his hand back up to Janus’s face, rubbing his thumb over the corner of his lips. Janus let a smile flick over himself at the touch, showing off the hints of teeth under those pretty kissable pink lips. Virgil tilted his head up slightly as if he could entice Janus to let the conversation fall out of his mind entirely.

Janus surged forward in the next breath and their lips collided, bringing with him a tidal wave of warmth, warmth, warmth. Virgil breathed in lavender, and breathed out a series of nonsensical delighted noises that his younger self would have been utterly horrified to hear him making about Janus Ekans. 

Virgil hadn’t exactly ever felt like a soft person: his parents had molded him into something with jagged edges and a distrust of everyone and everything; Mr. and Mrs. Ekans had sharpened those edges into something that looked like they could cut, even though Virgil had never hurt someone before. When he was on the Weslor Fighting Rings, he had forced those blades into reality to keep himself alive, to survive, to continue breathing even when he couldn’t think of a reason to want to. 

And even though those blades had shattered against Logan’s rock exterior, dulled to something less effective, less dangerous, less… less under the buzzing, welcoming, all accepting blanket that was the Mindscape, they were still there and Virgil’s habit of grabbing for them when he stressed was hard to unlearn. He’d let himself loosen his hold on those jagged edges, although they still fit in his hands, although his mind still remembered how to hold them, although he felt like he needed to look over his shoulder a lot of the time. He could stop being Virgil Storm, but  he would have to be Virgil the Deathworlder for the rest of his life, and there wasn’t a single alien that would look at a Deathworlder and not attack first.

So he didn’t consider himself soft, but under Janus’s hands he became malleable to whatever his golden haired half desired. He didn’t think about losing the steel plated spine he’d grown that had helped him stand when the whole world was against him, but Janus’s body warmth made it melt into the pillows around them. He wasn’t squishy, he wasn’t kind; he was barely even polite. 

But Janus’s tongue made him want to practice his pleases and thank yous. 

Janus pulled back, and Virgil wondered what type of will power one had to have to get that much strength. Virgil’s lungs gasped and panted, baying for air, and Janus was smiling at him in that stupid, very kissable way of his that should have been illegal. He was a menace, a Problem with a capital P, a warning sign that was one day going to be the death of Virgil.

And Virgil wouldn’t look away for the ending of the universe, his mind a strangely static version of calmness that only comes from having one single thought on repeat:

“So… what are we doing now?”

“Depends,” Janus said dangerously. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

And if Virgil were in any other state of mind, he might have been embarrassed by how fast and fervently he replied, “Yes.”

Janus ghosted a kiss over Virgil’s lips and Virgil would chase him if there weren't those hands on his waist reminding him to stay still. Janus smiled at him, so pretty and amazing and wonderful and he leaned in close to Virgil cheek, pressing light soft imprints up his cheek bone and back towards his ear. Virgil’s chest hummed in the charged silence, his heart thumping with a giddy hope, absolutely ready for whatever Janus wanted him to do.

There was a breath. Janus hovered just to the left of his face, pressing a kiss to the tip of Virgil’s ear.

And then. 

“Apologize for keeping me awake,” Janus whispered about as delicately as a fucking moon crashing into their spaceship.

“Are you kidding me?!” Virgil moaned. “Are you fucking serious?”

“I’m waiting….”

Virgil threatened to wriggle but Janus’s hands were a very strong reminder of why he didn’t want to, of the things he was going to get if he just did it, of how much he was in love with Janus.

“You are actually an asshole,” Virgil said, tilting his head up. “Such an asshole. I’m sorry for talking. I’m sorry that I interrupted your sleep. I’m sorry that your stupid face likes mine. Now please kiss me again, you fucker.”

Janus laughed and all at once pushed forward. Their lips matched up, like puzzle pieces, like perfectly cut metal plates, like missing pieces of code that suddenly made the incredibly sappy part of his brain start to function all over again. Virgil’s back grinded into the floor; one of their bunched up blankets was tangled under his spine like a knot that definitely was going to hurt later but Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to care as Janus helped himself to laying completely on top of him. There were sparks in Virgil’s mind, lighting up his whole existence brighter than any light that Logan might have been able to produce. 

Janus kissed deep and fierce, his hands glided up under Virgil’s shirt tracing whatever muscles that he could find and everything in Virgil was at risk to actually, physically explode. He tasted like that sweet tea that Patton liked, and Virgil grinned at the thought of him slipping the tea bags into one of the mugs that Patton had once bought for Virgil when Logan had explained that Virgil would be staying (with them, on their ship, in Space That Was As Far From Earth As He Could Get).

Virgil’s fingers threaded through Janus’s hair, ruffling it the way that Mrs. Ekans would have hated with a passion. Virgil kissed her son the way that she would have hated too: messy and sweet and imperfect. Their teeth knocked, their noses seem to suddenly be in the wrong position on their faces, the fact that they have to breathe through their faces seems to be an epic design flaw that Virgil needs to talk to some godly entity about--

“Fuck--” Virgil gasped.

“That’s the idea,” Janus heaved, far too pleased with himself.

“Did you put a sock on the door?”

“Remus takes that as an invitation to come in. But if you’re nice and quiet we don’t have to worry about--”

“THAT’S FUNDAMENTALLY FLAWED!” A voice yelled from the doorway, and all at once Virgil remembered that there are four other aliens on the ship and there aren’t actually doors to the living room area that they all come to hang out in when they finish their duties around the ship.

Janus jumped off him, practically to the other side of the room, face so red that he could have been mistaken for Roman if he had a bit more spikes. Virgil, himself, wasn’t sure he was any better: his lungs were still recovering and his brain was screeching with a sudden emptiness that made focusing on damage control nearly impossible. His heart was beating in his throat strangling all the oxygen molecules that might possibly come through.

"Oh, hey… Pat…Lo," Virgil said. "It's… uh…not what it looks like?"

Neither Patton nor Logan look like they believed that, but to be fair Virgil guessed that if he walked in on two of the deadliest creatures in existence tossing around on the floor, with those words coming from them, he also wouldn't believe that they were being Family Friendly and Safe for Work. Logan had his upper two arms covering Patton’s very large, emotion-radar eyes as if he could block out the most-likely very bright silhouettes that were Virgil and Janus. Patton himself was flushed, hanging upside down from the rafters of the ship per his usual method of traveling around and despite him being the oldest being Virgil knows, he was seeming to try to look anywhere else other than at them.

“Virgil,” Logan said clinically. “I respect that you both are consenting creatures and while I am extremely curious about Deathworlder biology and mating rituals--”

“I already regret this more than you could possibly know,” Virgil yelped out. “Please just kill me.”

“It was a joke! We were not actually going…to….” Janus said at the same time. “That would be… completely disrespectful to the hospitality you have already provided me--”

“Totally disrespectful!” Virgil agreed. “We would never!”

“And honestly the fact that you think we would!” Janus added. “What sort of Cikeriy do you take us for? In fact, I think I am insulted by the insinuation!”

Virgil frowned, squinting. “Wait, what is a Cikeriy?”

Janus shook his head in a way that means he’ll explain later, although just from the context Virgil got the impression that he owed Remus some massive dental work. 

"Do you kiddos have a moment?" Patton asked carefully. 

And it was then that Virgil clocked how…nervous Patton looked. Immediately he felt his shoulders tense, glancing beyond the Reytin and Tenekarie towards the door as if he would spy some secret alien stow away pointing a blaster at their backs. But the doorway was empty and Janus tapped two fingers onto Virgil's side without a trace of his previous amusement in those pretty brown eyes.

“Yeah, uh, yeah we do,” Virgil said. 

“Not a lot of time,” Janus said, still not looking anywhere in their direction. “We were quite busy. Being respectful guests on your ship and nothing else, of course.” 

Of course, he said. Of course nothing else, especially not when Janus was fluttering his eyes, making them look large and wet and arguably innocent, because he was an actor long before he was Virgil’s crush and his favorite pastime was seeing what sort of trouble he could get Virgil in. 

“Oh-kay,” Patton said, flipping around and hanging with his legs from the rafter, so he was a bit closer to their heights. It didn’t help with how nervous he looked, although Virgil wouldn’t exactly describe any of his mannerisms as nervous if he hadn’t been basically family with the guy: there was something about his aura that was a little to the left, the chittering noise that he usually added to the end of his sentences was diluted, nearly non existent (Virgil assumed it was left over from the Reytin language, like when someone continued to roll their “r’s” in English, but Virgil hadn’t really heard any Reytin at all; Patton didn’t like talking in it.) There was a seriousness to him, to his expression, to how he very obviously wanted Logan in there for this conversation that made Virgil’s own hackles rise with impending panic.

((“Oh kiddo,” Patton said, between cracked and drying lips and taking a step back from him. “What did you do?”))

“There’s not really an easy way to talk about this,” Patton--real, actual, alive-and-not-dying Patton from a dream that meant absolutely nothing to Virgil’s mental state-- said, wringing his three-fingered hands together, kneading his knuckles in a self-soothing motion and Virgil didn’t exactly bite his tongue hard enough to bleed, but the pain forced him to focus. “Uhm, Logie and I were talking and we think that you both might need to, uhm…”

Patton glanced towards Logan for help in his wording and Virgil’s lungs shrivel up and die in his chest because this is it, Virgil’s finally outstayed his welcome, they don’t have the supplies to keep hosting Virgil and Janus, and their means of getting money are exponentially higher when they don’t have to worry about their clients freaking out about there being a Deathworlder, not to mention two of them involved in the action, honestly Virgil should just be happy they dealt with him for this long, he has always been nothing but a murde--

“What Patton means,” Logan cut in, a variety of purple lights trailing down his arms. “Is that we are unsure of how advanced Deathworlder education is about Space.”

“Pardon?” Janus said.

“Rationally speaking, and with no attempted insult here,” Logan said with a tone that usually suggested he was about to be horribly insulting in the way that only Tenekarie can be. “It’s a known fact that Deathworlders aren’t the most tech savvy. Despite theoretically having the resources, the advancements of space travel for your kind is extremely lacking. Coupled with our own experiences in how truly infantile Virgil’s knowledge about the basics of ship navigation and survival on different planets-- both of which are taught before any proper school for my and Patton’s races, and left us rather horrified to acknowledge that you were practically an unfortunately tall toddler--”

“I’m beginning to feel very insulted,” Virgil muttered.

“--It has been brought to our collective attention that the two of you might be completely unaware of Space Time,” Logan finished. The lights around his wrists pulsed a worried tempo of blue yellow and purple. Patton fidgeted at his post, his usual pleasant expression giving way to a more upset one when Virgil and Janus didn’t immediately jump up to reassure them that the words “Space” and “Time” meant something more than what they meant individually.

Janus shifted, uncomfortable in both his skin and in the idea that he might not know everything there is to know in the universe. “What is… Space Time?”

“I attempted to explain this to you, Virgil, but I had the feeling that your Common wasn’t advanced yet for you to grasp the whole meaning,” Logan said. “I will attempt again with small words. Essentially, on the planet TS-001 in the year of Emperor Xiso, there was a Slewcuriz, who discovered that Xiyl based components could be run through a Joznu reduction and then mixed with Lerak, in a one to three Vogin, and Santel in a--”

“I can already tell you that if we had this conversation before I did not understand it,” Virgil said, blandly. “I don’t understand it now.” 

“Just the basics,” Janus suggested. “I would love to listen to the full history lesson at a later point, but it seems your Reytin is about to flee into the vents from nerves.”

Patton let out a chittering squeak when both Virgil and Logan glance towards him. “I’m fine! Really! It’s just….” He sighed, drooping. “Reytins explained Space Time as the concept that Distance is unavoidably linked to Time. Because of this, objects in motion feel time at a slower rate than those that are standing still.”

“What?” Janus asked because he only won a Robotics Competition because his parents paid for the trophy to be handed to him, much like all his other science related achievements.

Virgil, who actually won a Robotics Competition, tilted his head and nodded. “No wait, uh I do know about that. It’s a physics thing; uh… specific relativity? No that’s not right… Special Relativity?” He hummed for a moment before noticing that Janus still looked confused. “It’s like… time travel, kinda. How do I explain this to a non-science person….okay imagine you are on a train, alright? I’m outside the train, by the train tracks, perfectly distanced between two trees. Your train is moving at the speed of light, but at the moment that your train passes by me lightning strikes both trees.”

Virgil mimicked the trees being blown up and Logan looked oddly fascinated by the explanation, as if he were listening to a child's attempt at explaining brain surgery. 

“Okay?” Janus said warily.

“Okay, so I am outside the tracks. I would observe the trees both going up in flames at the same time. Simultaneously. But you, on your totally-real, not-a-safety-hazard train would be moving at light speed towards one tree and away from the other; as a result you would see lightning striking the tree ahead of you first and the one behind you second, with a noticeable difference in time.”

“W-why would that--?”

“Because time is relative, but the speed of light is always the same,” Virgil said.

“That makes no sense to me,” Janus said. “It’s happening at the same time.”

“For me it would. But you would be moving, and therefore your perception of time is super out of whack.”

Janus crossed his arms. “If this is such a big thing why don’t I observe it when I wave to you from down the street? Or when I’m driving a car?”

“The time dilation has to be at literal light speed. I don’t know about you but people who don’t have a silver spoon up their ass usually don’t have cars that go at light speeds.” 

Janus’s expression slipped into something far less amused and he pursed his lips.

“That’s not all there is to it,” Logan cut in before Janus could retort. “But at the very basic level I would assume that is close enough to Space Time. What had Patton and I concerned, is the manner of aging that comes associated with space travel.” 

He straightened his spine and stood slightly taller, like a teacher about to give a lecture. His lower two hands folded behind himself and the upper two brightly flashed yellow and purple twice as if intoning Look at me! Pay attention! There might be a Pop Quiz on this Tomorrow! 

“As you might have figured, part of traveling the vacuum of space is that our ships maintain a speed parallel to that of light. I believe you called it light speed? As such we are on a constant motion that largely outperforms that of any habitable planet. Because of this, we on this ship will experience time at the same rate, but we will be completely isolated from how anyone outside of this ship experiences time.” Logan gave them both a look. “Objects in motion experience time slower than those at a stand still.”

Janus squinted at him. “I feel like you are trying to tell me something.”

“We experience time much slower than those on any planet.”

Janus turned to Virgil, hands raised in a question. Virgil wondered for a moment if this was how Janus always felt when Virgil was asking him to play translator for their notes in Spanish II back before everything ended. Perhaps he should have been paying Janus for his services as both a tutor and the sole reason Virgil didn’t flunk out of his language courses before his junior year with something more than the promise to hold on to a secret and longing dreams he never told anyone about.

“One more time, Lo,” Virgil asked. 

Logan frowned and opened his mouth again, but instead of answering, Patton flipped down from the rafters and landed just a foot away from Virgil. 

“Time passing for the people on your planet will stay the same, Virgil,” Patton said. “But you aren’t there anymore. The time that you and Janus have spent in space, planet hopping at light speed, you think it’s been, like two of your Earth kliansannu, right?”

“Years?” Janus echoed in English.

“Three, actually,” Virgil said, very much not liking where this was headed.

“Three?” Janus said.

“For all we know of your Earth, it could have already been sixteen kliansannu,” Logan explained. “Or larger. Twenty eight? Thirty Two?”

Virgil didn’t know where the sudden sick feeling in his chest came from but he became aware suddenly that it had settled in the hollow of his throat, bloated and twisted and gnarled around his vocal chords. Flashes of Earth flicked in his head: of his parents, of the town, of Earth as he knew it. It hadn’t taken more than a year for the community council to agree to tear down the park playground he liked to hang out at night when he was fifteen; in sixteen years what would be left of the place he knew? Who would be left?

“We can’t possibly have been that lucky,” Janus said, bulldozing straight through the tangled web of realization that caught Virgil with his politician’s son voice. He stood his ground, glaring at Logan as if daring him to fight on this. “You truly believe that so much time has passed on Earth? We were already experimenting with deep space travel before I was abducted; they would have definitely branched out far enough to come in contact with a legitimate alien race by now.”

Logan frowned. “Legitimate?”

“We aren’t bringing this up to start a fight about Deathworlders!” Patton interrupted. “Or to freak either of you out! It’s just…I… didn’t get this option. To go back.” He squeezed his hands into fists. “I wanted to make sure you both have it.”

((Virgil has three plants in his room that glow in the dark, plants that Patton once gave him, plants that make Patton teary-eyed and quiet because they came from a planet that no longer existed.))

“TS-517 got blown up,” Patton said. “I was in a bar with Logan and Roman celebrating one of our first jobs together. I had lost track of Space Time; it was my mother’s birthday and she was waiting for me to come home and I was in a bar thinking I still had three more disannu.” Patton took a deep breath, horribly pained and hurting and telling.

“My entire race, my planet, my home disappeared in an instant. If there is anything,” the Reytin stressed, “that you can think of that you wouldn’t be able to live without ever seeing again…then believe me that’s reason enough to go back to Earth.”

“I have everything I need right here,” Janus said resolutely, confidently, proudly. He took their hands and intertwined their fingers like he was making a promise and Virgil’s inner organs should not have been turning to mush at something so small.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Patton,” Janus said. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that, and that you have to carry that with you now. But there is nothing on the Deathworld that is worth going back for, much less worth having you break the interstellar space codes for.”

“Virgil?” Logan said, with a curiously blank tone that made Virgil feel like both of them just failed a test they hadn’t known they were taking. His lower left hand rested on his belt where his interstellar nook was placed, ready for the next time he needed to do a SpaceGoogle search to figure out what laws they were breaking and figure out how to explain it away to possible Space Cops.

Virgil squeezed Janus’s fingers in his own hand.

“I mean,” Virgil said, with a shrug. “I’m sure there’s a version of Roman’s Shishdouble that tastes like a Wendy’s chicken sandwich if I’m in denial enough?”

That at least got a part of a laugh out of Patton, something sad and a little twisted and mourning people that Virgil would never get to know. Logan was still looking at him, though, his expression a flat slate that made him look more rock-like than normal. The visor over his eyes blocked most of the expression on his face, but Virgil still wasn’t sure what he was searching for.

“I don’t want to go back to Earth,” Virgil said. “Neither of us want to go back to Earth.”

Logan waited another moment, lips pressed together, before he nodded. Whatever decision he had come to, it settled his lights as well, letting them flutter once again with the steady pulsing beat and he let his arm drop away from his nook. “Well, of course, it was just a concern from your crewmates. I had a theory that neither of you were particularly inclined to return, nor did I particularly want to say a definitive goodbye at some point to people who are family to me. Thank you for taking the time to assuage our fears.”

“Aw,” Janus said. “He likes us!”

“You are not hard to like,” Logan said good naturedly. “I look forward to our conversations about Deathworlder culture. They are very enlightening.”

And if that wasn’t a concerning thing to hear, Virgil wasn’t sure what was. He knew Janus well enough to know that he could very maliciously be pixie-leading Logan down the worst pieces of humanity.

But Patton was still uncharacteristically quiet, so Virgil let go of Janus’s hand and knelt down to his height, offering a folded fist, palm up in the familiar motion that Roman often gave Patton.

“Thanks for looking out for us, Pat,” Virgil said. “But if you dropped us off on Earth again, I wouldn’t be able to see you again, and that is something I wouldn’t be able to live without.”

Patton’s large bulging eyes blinked, tearing up slightly and he lunged forward into a hug. Virgil wobbled to keep his balance, but accepted the hug gratefully. 

Sixteen years, twenty eight, thirty two… what did it really matter to him when he had his family right there? Janus was right. There was no reason to go back, there was no reason to want to go back.

If they magically showed back up on Earth, Virgil would still have to fight the accusation that he murdered someone, Janus would have to face the fact that his own parents buried him. Even if they were dropped in like… Turkey or Libya or Nigeria or something, and all they had were each other and the will to start over, Virgil didn’t think he could look up to the sky and not ache to see the warp core of the Mindscape’s engines, the weird fauna on hundreds of different planets, the way a planet with seven moons or three suns looks from the surface. 

 Patton squeezed him gently again, and Virgil was careful that he kept his Deathworlder strength in check for the return. Patton stepped back, making another chittering noise that sounded much more like him.

“Well!” He said far brighter and much more like himself. “I’m glad you kiddos have everything figured out! I didn’t have nearly the same focus when I was first starting out on my journey!”

“Deathworlder perks,” Janus said, with a smile even though that was not even remotely true and by the look on Logan’s face he knew that as well and was baffled by his Deathworlder expert blatantly lying.

“So….if that’s all figured out,” Virgil said, innocently, running the edge of a half bitten nail against his other finger. He turned towards Janus again, half of a crooked grin on his face.

 "Kenobi?"

And faster than any space storm, than any meteorite crashing into earth, any star exploding, or blackhole imploding, Janus's face twisted into one of rage and he snatched a pillow from the ground and threw it at Virgil.

It was a matter of mere luck that Virgil managed to duck in time; the force of it alone as it tore past Virgil told him that he would have been sporting bruises for at least a solid day. Patton on the other hand yelped and jumped up, clearing easily overwhere the pillow landed at his feet, and clung upside down to the rafters.

"Patton!" Janus snapped. "Be a dear and shove that down his throat will you?"

"HEY, whoa!" Virgil said, backing up. "That's two against one and that's not fair!"

"Were you not the one who called me a bully? Since when do bullies fight fair?"

"Did someone say fair fight?" Roman asked in what is possibly the best timing the Erefren has ever had. He appeared in the doorway from the main hall, hair still wet from the shower he’d been taking, but otherwise looking pleased to see them all. "Who are we fighting?"

"Virgil!"

"Janus!"

Roman grinned in a way that Virgil suspected he picked up solely from hanging around Virgil too much-- curved and pleasant where Erefren customs were mostly teeth barring-- and Virgil knew that he was in trouble. The red spiky tail curled around the pillow and tossed it into his hands and Roman stared down Virgil with all the vengeance of a pissed off stegosaurus.

"For my shishbouble!" He said. 

Virgil yelped, scooting out of the way of Roman's attack just to be brained by Janus's. His fingers wrapped around the pillow before Janus could yank it back again and with a sharp tug he freed it from its commander and held it up to block the shot from Patton.

“This is in no way fair!” Virgil cried out. “Logan!”

“Do not involve me in this,” Logan suggested. “I believe this is the figurative “reaping of what you’ve sown”. Janus, did I use that phrase correctly?”

“Perfectly!” Janus said right before he slammed another pillow at Virgil’s face. 

“Fucking Disney,” another voice called from the doorway. “You fucks better be actually killing each other with all this fucking noise!”

The battle slowed for a moment, enough that Virgil was able to actually form a single coherent thought in the space between where Janus had aborted his attack and Roman had ditched his plan to swipe Virgil’s feet from under him and put him in a blanket coated, pillow shaped coffin. 

Remus stood in the doorway, looking very much like he’d been through every other room in the ship searching for alcohol and been unsuccessful. His hair was a mess in the way that suggested he did not care about it at all, his outfit ruffled from being the only thing he’s been seen wearing since he arrived on this ship (despite Roman having offered him other clothes). The dark circle under his eyes spoke in volumes to the amount of sleep that he’d had recently which Virgil has the sneaking suspicion was equal to the amount that Virgil has had since their “talk” in the Transporter Room.

“Remus is on my team!” Virgil yelled out and he slammed a pillow into Roman’s spluttering surprised face. 

“He is?” Roman asked.

“I am?” Remus echoed possibly more confused than he should have been.

But Janus shrugged and took a swing at Remus with his pillow and the next moment was a flurry of pillows flying around the room. Patton swung up to the rafters again and dropped his pillows like bombs from the sky, and Virgil managed to get Roman tangled in a blanket, but it left him open for Janus knocking him on the back of the head. Remus laughed when Virgil hit the ground, dazed and confused and unsure what day of the alien week it was, but the Erefren did at least throw a pillow at Janus’s stomach.

Remus and Janus exchanged blows like a complicated dance until Virgil tossed Roman’s pillow at Janus’s feet to trip him up and he ended up caught directly in Remus’s arms.

“Hostage!” Remus declared, swinging Janus in front of him like a human shield against Patton and Roman. Virgil took the opening as an invitation and skidded behind Remus and his very beautiful meat shield. “You wouldn’t hit your teammate!”

Roman looked righteously scandalized by the suggestion. “You bastard! He’s just a child!”

“Coward!” Janus called. “Also I’m eighteen!”

“Is that not a child for Deathworlders?” Logan asked pleasantly, from his spot on the couch, unbothered by the mess they had created in the warzone around him.

"Technically it's an adult," Virgil said.

"A baby!" Roman said again, distressed in the way that came only from being aware of the type of shit Virgil would get into if left to his own devices in his lab for too long. Virgil suspected that they drew straws every time one of them needed to come remind him that he needed to eat, considering that the last time he’d gotten involved in a project he’d nearly shish-kabobed Logan coming into the room at the wrong moment.

Remus rolled his eyes. "We are barely older than him! Even Happy Pappy Pancake over there is basically the same age in Reytin klainsannu!"

Virgil sat up suddenly turning towards Logan with a dawning realization in his mind. "Wait, wait-- you guys are like barely teenagers?"

"He means teenagers," Janus cut in.

Virgil frowned. "That's what I said."

Janus gave him a look that sends Virgil directly back in time to Spanish II, without passing go or collecting the 200 apologies from various parties that he's owed because Janus is alive and well and still an asshole and Virgil is very much in love with him and still can't pronounce things correctly. Apparently.

Logan pondered the question for another moment. "I suppose…yes I believe that is accurate. For all our species we are considered the hypothetical ages between being a child that needs a guardian to look after them and being a guardian capable of looking after themselves. Although Patton undoubtedly has been alive for more kliansannu than all of us put together."

"And we're just…. roaming around the galaxies?" Virgil said. 

Patton laughed with his eyes glowing as if he hadn’t almost been in tears just a little bit ago. He flipped from a rafter to Roman’s back, and the Erefren caught him easily before he impaled himself on the spikes. It never failed to amaze Virgil at how well they knew each other’s movements; Roman didn’t even so much as have to shift his weight at the sudden frog-like creature clinging to him.

"Okay hear me out: We are essentially a bunch of kids on a road trip across the country," Virgil started and Janus groaned so loudly Remus loosened his hold slightly. 

“Do not start on that!”

“This is a Coming Of Age story, gross! We swore we were not going to do that--”

“I do not understand the nuance here,” Logan commented, ever curious and his two lower hands reaching for his nook to document this new information. “Is this a Deathworlder cultural rite?”

“Who cares,” Remus cut in boredly. “Are we fighting or not? I have things to do!”

Roman huffed. “What do you have to do? You’re a guest on my ship!”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Not forever, bitch. I’m off when we touch down on TS-625. I’ve got business with some… people in the city.”

((“They-- They trusted me and… I got my entire fucking crew killed brutually and I have to find and inform their families that they won’t be returning. Ever.”))

Virgil didn’t exactly drop like a solid bowling ball had slammed into him obliterating at least three of his internal organs, but it was a near thing. Remus’s expression didn’t betray a single bit of what his business with people in the city might be, or how terrible it was going to be to be alone again. Virgil didn’t doubt that Remus had dipped his hands into the worst things that could be done out in Space, that Remus hadn’t perpetuated half of the terrible things that left most other races terrified of Erefrens, but for all his resources, all his brutal fighting, all his ship maintenance knowledge, Virgil was struck by the sudden feeling that if Remus walked off this ship when they landed alone, none of them would ever see him again.

Oath of Brothers or not, Remus would not call out again if he needed help. Past crewmate or not, Remus would not ask Janus to join him. Hatred for Virgil or not, Remus would not come back to haunt them like a vengeful ghoul.

He’d disappear entirely, without even a goodbye.

Virgil wasn’t sure why that thought suddenly made him feel so incredibly wrong.

“The offer still stands,” Virgil blurted out, and Remus blinked as if he had forgotten Virgil was next to him.

“Offer?” Patton asked, tilting his head and blinking his bug eyes. Virgil wasn’t sure what emotions exactly Patton would be seeing off the two of them, or if Patton could see any with Janus blocking most of Remus’s body. He was sure they would probably be concerning at the very least; Virgil’s could be chalked up to something like badbadbadreallybad and Remus was…. Remus.

The Erefren looked at him, up and down, as if mentally trying to calculate how much money he could get for Virgil’s corpse on the Black Market. “I don’t need your help, Viagra.”

“I didn’t teach him that one!” Janus said, but honestly….Virgil had been called worse before by people he respected far more.

“I know you don’t need it,” Virgil shrugged. “That doesn’t mean it couldn’t help to have help anyway.” 

(He pretended like he didn’t see Logan, Roman, and Patton exchange a very obvious, very flabbergasted look between the three of them.)

“Alright,” Remus said, part of his lips curling into a begrudging sharpened grin and his tail swaying dangerously close to where Virgil was hovering, ever a threat. “Your funeral, Deathworlder.”

“I’m so happy for both of you making friends,” Janus said in that tone of voice of his that usually meant he was about to remind the teacher of the homework that they were supposed to do the night before, that only he actually completed. Remus’s face flickered with panic, but he was a second too late reacting to it before Janus drove his heel directly into the Erefren’s shin hard enough to cause him to lose what remained of his grip on his hostage. 

Remus cursed in at least three languages and drowned out Patton’s responding chastisement with a particularly loud shout of where Patton could shove his manners. Janus laughed, grabbing a pillow from next to Logan while Roman declared his brother free Pillow Beatdown Real Estate.

Virgil yelped when Janus locked his eyes on him with a vicious gaze. He raised a blanket as a shield to block the pillow, but Janus just tackled him to the ground instead. They twisted around for a minsannu before Virgil found himself pinned right under Janus with no escape. 

“I win,” Janus declared and the two of them paused to catch their breath as they watched Remus flatten Roman’s face with his own pillow that was concerningly close to an actual smothering attempt. Logan attempted to break it up, only to have both the Erefrens smack him with their pillows at the same time, hard enough to knock him back onto the couch, dazed. Patton swung down from the rafters and knocked Remus actually onto the ground with a pillow to the stomach, and his string of apologies was lost under the sound of Roman’s laughter. 

“So,” Janus said quietly, almost lost under the chaos of all the noise if he wasn’t curled up right on top of Virgil. “You guys didn’t talk about anything important at all?”

“Friendly conversation, between friendly people,” Virgil repeated. “Besides, it’s just TS-625. What’s the worst that could happen?”

#virgil sanders #janus sanders #Logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #alien au #aw look a one shot with all of the boys in it! #and only a little angst #Rip Patton's backstory #You thought this was Aliens? No this is Physics #The author is crying but its not from angst #its from physics #why did I do this #Space and Everything in It #Buckle up the next installment and where things get...messy #anxceit #sanders sides

[writingsbychlo]

BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 

Men did love a little attention, after all. 

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 

Until, Theo spoke up. 

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 

“Where are we going, Dray?” 

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!” 

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.” 

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.” 

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.” 

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy/reader #draco malfoy/you #harry potter #slytherin boys #tom felton #draco malfoy x y/n

[washeduphazbin]

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, his dear wife is going to pay him a visit at his work and in the end they almost get paid for lute

New Eve (Adam x Fem! Wife! Reader)

-SMUT AHEAD MINORS DNI-

Other warnings: Adam Being Adam

I hope I wrote this ask and understood it correctly! Adam is my guilty pleasure. I love men who are dumb as rocks and who are going to be absolutely leashed by even stronger women.

REQUESTS OPEN

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There's a saying that all good things come in threes, Lilith, Eve, and you. Adam's final wife, who physically couldn't be swayed by Lucifer because Adam had met you in Heaven. When you passed through the pearly gates, you were greeted by none other than the first human himself. You were in awe for about two seconds until you quickly gathered the first man was a complete and utter dickhead. He seemed to falter when you walked past him to greet an angel named Lute, Adam's second in command. She tensed a little as you introduced yourself, ignoring Adam's protests that dubbed you a Queen Mega Bitch.

All this to say, it took about three months before Lute caught Adam sticking his tongue down your throat with you latched onto him like a koala. You made a distressed sound at being caught while listening to Adam laugh above you. You distinctly heard him call your mouth as good as a vagina while pressing a kiss to your hairline. "Adam!" You hissed, pulling on the horns of his mask as he let out a defiant sound, "Inappropriate."

"Ugh yeah, that's kind of my thing, sugar tits."

"You need to not make it your thing, or this thing doesn't happen." You drew your line in the metaphorical sand before marching out of the room, faintly hearing Lute argue about Adam's behavior behind you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Two years later, you were Adam's new 'Eve' in heaven with two golden rings to prove the love that formed between the two of you...somehow. Did the both of you fight constantly? Yes. Did you want to wring his neck every time he opened the gaping hole he called a mouth? Also Yes. But did you love him...unfortunately. Even though he had a laundry list of bad habits, a vulgar mouth, and gross hobbies, he had his moments. He was protective, fiercely so, and despite his fuck boy personality, he only had his sights set on you. Lute often asked you what you saw in Adam, and you'd reluctantly sigh and give a tired grin, "He makes me laugh. Plus, with proper motivation, he's putty in my hand." Lute made a sound of understanding, nodding her head,

"Ah, yes. Use your feminine wiles to control those weaker than you, even if they may be physically stronger. We must use what we are given as women. Well, you must. I'm very strong without using that to my advantage."

"Yes, exactly," You snickered as Lute stopped outside Adam's office. "Which is exactly why Sera put me in charge of convincing Adam to meet with The Morningstar's daughter." You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "I'll see you back here later, then?"

"Yes, ma'am." Lute bowed, "I wish you luck...you'll need it. He's in one of his moods." before taking off into the sky and down the hall. You reached up with a stretch of your arms, fluffing up your wings to look extra pretty before knocking on Adam's door,

"Adam." You hummed, knocking on the grand marble door once before opening it. You leaned against the entranceway, wings brushing against the floor, as his head shot up.

"Sugartits!"

"Not my name!" You dodged Adam's hug with a flurry of your wings; he grinned, shoving the door closed with his hip. "Adam," you said in warning as he used his angelic magic to fly towards you and trap you within his arms.

"and what would you prefer I call you? My Bitch? Wifey?" He mused, peppering sloppy kisses against your cheek and down your neck. "We could go with Queen or Goddess, preferably." You shot back, dragging Adam down to sit in his chair; you hummed gently, removing his mask from his face. He leaned back, kicking his legs up on the desk as you slid down into his chest, straddling his hips. You hummed, running your fingers through his brown hair, and he melted into your touch, "My name works, too."

"I guess we can settle on Queen. Does that make me your King?" Adam preened as you scratched under his chin,

"Without a doubt...but we must talk about the Young Morningstar."

"Who?" He made a faux confused face which you raised an eyebrow back at in response, "Ugh, Lucifer's cunt daughter. What about her?"

"She's been begging for a meeting. I suggest you meet with her." Your lips began to trail down his neck, nipping at his skin as his body flushed.

"But that's so much work, sugar." He groaned, running his clawed hands through your hair, "Can't I just say fuck off back to hell we're gonna exterminate all of you regardless."

"Sera wants you to at least meet with her one time; she's giving you a lot of trust to handle this on your own."

"And if I do what you ask, what'll you give me?" He mused, eyes sparkling. You huffed, hitting him with the back of your wing, and he laughed, "Come on, you gotta sweeten the deal for me, mama."

"You're such a bastard." You huffed, moving to pull your hair out of your face. He moved his legs to the ground, and you could slide between his knees. "Robe off unless you want dirty," you commanded as Adam fumbled out of it quickly.

"I love you~" He leaned back with a sly grin, hand reaching up to move your head closer to his lip. Your fingers spread across his thighs, and you huffed softly, looking up at him.

"I love you more. If I do this for you, you promise to meet with young Lady Morningstar?"

"You can't just fuck me because you love me?"

"Bite me." You sneered, but there wasn't any malice in your voice as he stood up, picking you up off the ground and pressing your back against his desk.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure. I can't say your robes will survive, though I might need to get you some new ones." Adam popped the buttons on your robe, allowing your body to be laid bare for his eyes. He watched your breathing hitch as his long claw trailed down your neck to your chest. "Fuck I love these puppies, you know that?" Adam grinned, grabbing fistfuls of your breasts, squeezing and kneading to his heart's content. Your husband was like an oversized golden retriever. When he sees something he likes, he obsesses over it like a man deranged. His favorite playthings of yours were your tits and ass. "Any meetings?"

"None. I'm yours for the rest of the day. You can mark me how you'd like; I'm yours, my husband. Well, until you meet with the Princess."

"Fuckkkkk yeah, baby, come 'ere." Adam dove between your breasts, and he felt you suck in air through your teeth. He began to bite and suck on the supple flesh of your chest; you keened, arching into his mouth, hands tangling in his brown hair. You could tell from the way his teeth would graze against your nipples and your flesh he was doing everything in his power to leave marks on the skin.

"Adam...ngh." You panted, feeling his hand move down from your breast to slide down your stomach and between your legs. "Shit," You squeaked, feeling him tease your clit with his thumb and forefinger with a dopey grin on his face.

"There's my favorite girl," He flicked your nub skillfully; for being a massive asshole, this prick sure knew where to find your clit. One finger slid between your folds, and you tossed your head against the cold marble desk. "Damn, only one finger has you acting up? I must not be treating you good enough," He purred as another finger entered you, stretching you out to be big enough for, 'the first ever man god created.' Adam watched with delight as your wings spread out and trembled, glowing with a soft golden glow. "That's it, you're being such a good girl for me. Are you ready?"

"Yes." You panted, "Adam, please."

"God, you beg so nicely, you little slut," His hand reached up to grip your throat, causing you to let out a desperate whine, hips bucking into his fingers. "Beg Harder," He demanded, moving your hand to palm him through his trousers, stiff and aching. "Look at how hard you make me. How desperate. I need you to worship your god."

"Yes, sir." You purred, "You're my God, Adam. I need you, I'd worship for your love, your touch, your dick." You dragged your hand up your chest, playing with the swell of your own breast, "Don't you want to make me happy, baby?"

"More than anything." Adam's eyes lit up in elation, "Stay with me. Don't go to Lucifer. You're mine." He snarled, hands around your throat, "Say it."

"I'm with you. Only you. Forever Adam." His entire body seemed to relax when you said that, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek and lips. "I love you, you annoying Dickweed."

"Love you more, Sugartits." He grinned cheekily before lowering himself to you with a hiss-like laugh. "Tight as ever, and that's why I love you,"

"If you keep talking nonsense while you're literally inside me, I'll cut off your dick,"

"Sounds kinky."

"Adam."

"Fine, Fine, you're so vanilla." He mused, albeit his tone was much softer, fonder than his earlier teasing. His hands grabbed under your knees and pressed you close with a snap of his hips. You both let out a moan, yours higher pitched and needier, bucking your hips, searching for more friction than he was currently providing. You always savored the way he was able to fill you up, he wasn't the longest but god was he thick filling you in all the right ways. Every time his hips snapped into you, you could feel just how deep he kissed your cervix. "Yeah, you like that?" He panted, "Like how deep I'm getting? From the way you're dripping, you're practically soaking through my table. Your vag is like a vice, babe, so tight for this big cock."

"Hm. Your words always know how to turn me o-ng-ff." You moaned out this end at a particularly sharp thrust of his hips. "Fuck you," You panted as he grinned down at you,

"Good news, wifey, that's exactly what we're doing-"

"Sir!" You let out a scream as Lute slammed the door of his office open, you climbed against Adam's body like an embarrassed Nun. He groaned, still inside you but having the decency to cover you with his wings.

"What do you need, Lute? I'm a little busy getting it on with my sexy ass wife." Adam complained, motioning to the top of your head, to which you made an embarrassed sound of mortification. "Can this be rescheduled or-"

"The Princess of Hell is here, Sir. She just showed up-"

"Are you for real telling me that the bitch Princess of Hell is seriously cucking me right now?!"

"...Yes."

"(Y/n) If I killed her for interrupting us, would you be pissed?"

"Beyond Adam."

"Fuck."

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #x reader #fem reader #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin hotel adam x reader #smut #requests open #reader insert #hazbin hotel smut

[ellecdc]

HIII, I wanted to know if I could request a poly marauders x festy slytherin reader.Something of how they started or whatever you have inspiration for.I would love another part of that, if you feel up to it. Hope you are taking care of yourself <3

feisty/slytherin reader x poly!marauders is actually my favourite thing to write (followed closely by any ship with whimsical reader) so I was more than happy to whip this up for you! Thanks for requesting! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem, Slytherin!reader

CW: werewolf prejudice, making fun of possible birth defects due to Pureblood's being terribly inbred, swearing

Remus felt that generally, he was a very understanding person. And not just in a compassionate way, but also in a sense that he just understands a lot of things.

He understands Sirius’ need to defy his family whilst simultaneously looking after his brother as if his life depended on it.

He understands James’ need to make sure everyone around him feels as loved as humanly possible, even if it’s at his own expense. 

He understands that Gryffindor’s hate Slytherin’s, but he also understands that not all Slytherin’s are horrible, prejudiced racists.

He understands everyone makes fun of Hufflepuffs for being soft and emotional, but he also understands that Hufflepuffs can be some of the most heartless, ruthless friends you can have.

What Remus has had a hard time understanding, however, was his boyfriends’ sudden interest in you.

Remus could admit that you were quite attractive, but you were also sort of…terrifying?

“What have you boys done?” Lily murmured in quiet horror (quiet awe if you asked James).

“We pranked Slytherin!” Sirius said jovially, as if Lily had somehow missed that key piece of information. 

“I can see that, Sirius.” She said like one might speak to a small child who was quite dumb. “But on portrait day?”

Sirius smiled smugly as he watched Slytherin’s enter the Great Hall for their school portraits. As they passed through the door, they were unknowingly walking under a charmed mistletoe (which was very difficult to find this time of year, thanks James very much) which turned their green and silver robes and ties to a beautiful red and gold. 

The best part is some students still hadn’t noticed yet, and another amazing part was that those who had noticed couldn’t figure out how to turn it back.

“Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew, and Mr. Lupin. I suppose the four of you have no idea who may be behind this prank?” Professor McGonagall challenged as she looked down her nose at them sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Sirius smirked as he responded “Why, not a clue Minnie. But I’ll keep my eye out and let you know if I see any mischief makers.”

McGonagall let out a long suffering sigh as she took five points from Gryffindor for improper address of a professor. 

“You rotten dugbogs.” Remus heard you screech before he saw you. He had the good sense to cringe as you stormed up to their table whilst Sirius and James grinned enthusiastically. 

“Why hello Y/N, my beautiful angel.” James greeted as Sirius let out a sultry “Don’t you just look smashing in red.” Accompanied by a wink.

“I don’t know what you sods have done, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the rest of them; but you will fix this.” You spat angrily gesturing to your faux Gryffindor uniform.

“But that would be such a crime, dollface.” Sirius lamented.

“You can’t expect us to mess with perfection.” James added.

You shot your hand out and grabbed James’ collar, pulling his face to yours until your noses were nearly touching. 

“I swear to Salazar himself, Potter, if you do not change my robes back, I will cut your dick off and charm it to your forehead so you walk around looking like a limp-dick unicorn. Change. It. Back.”

Your voice was low and threatening, and Peter actually gulped as he hid behind Remus. But looking at James’ face pressed up to yours, you would have thought you had just serenaded him with the greatest love song known to man.

“You have such beautiful eyes.” He murmured in awe. Remus was certain he could see steam forming behind said beautiful eyes, but before it could shoot out of your ears, Sirius came to your rescue.

“Very right, Prongs. She does have beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, I believe her usual green does compliment them better than the red.” Sirius said lasciviously as he cast the counter charm to return your robes to their rightful colour.

You looked down at your form before looking back at the boys skeptically. You seemed only then to realize you were still holding onto James’ collar like a vice and dropped it. Remus almost chuckled at the look of loss that crossed James’ face.

“Right.” You said and cleared your throat, backing away from them as if you weren't fully trusting what just happened. “Thank you.”

Sirius’ head actually reared back in surprise at your thanks and James beamed.

“Anytime angel, truly.” 

James’ pet name seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you’d been in as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Terribly sorry, my love.” He relented.

You groaned in exasperation and carried on towards the Slytherin table.

“Isn’t she lovely?” James whispered in awe, eyes still glued to your form as you bodily shoved Evan Rosier out of what Remus could only assume you had dubbed as your seat at the Slytherin table and sat down. 

“Try bloody terrifying.” Peter shivered in horror as he finally extricated himself from behind Remus. 

“Oi! Don’t talk about our future missus that way, Wormy.” Sirius squawked and swatted at the poor sod with his copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Is he wrong, though?” Remus asked as he let out his own breath of relief.

“Don ‘t worry moons,” James murmured into Remus’ cheek as he pressed his nose into the werewolf’s hair line. “She’ll win you over soon.”

Remus wasn’t so sure.

You were the only Slytherin photographed in proper uniform that day. 

A few weeks later found Remus sitting horrifyingly uncomfortable in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they moved on to the unit featuring Werewolves.

James sat on his right, and though the shaking of his knee under the table gave away his nerves, he spent the entire class rubbing soothing circles along the back of Remus’ hand with his thumb.

Sirius, sitting on Remus’ left, was incredibly stiff and clearly poised to fight if given the chance which did nothing to ease Remus’ discomfort. It also didn’t help that they shared this period with the 6th and 7th year Slytherin’s.

He just wanted this day to be over.

“Why are we even talking about this?” Mulciber sneered, interrupting the professor as they discussed elements of the Wolfsbane potion. 

“What is your question, Mr. Mulciber?” The professor drawled out in a bored tone.

“Why bother discussing werewolves? The lot of them should be culled anyway; euthanize them on site for all I care.” He spat, earning snickers from Avery, Goyle, and Snape. 

Sirius sucked in a breath in preparation of a verbal (and possibly physical, should he be so lucky) spar when Remus dug his nails into Sirius’ thigh. “Please, Pads.” He begged quietly; voice taught with emotions.

Sirius let out a pained sigh and leaned back further into his chair.

“Funny, Mulciber.” A bored tone commented, “I was just thinking the same about you and your lot.”

Remus, James, and Sirius all turned to see the majority of the eyes in the room already on you, though you never bothered lifting your head from your textbook.

“Care to repeat that, L/N?” Mulciber sneered, sitting up in his chair as if ready to lunge at you if necessary.

You lifted your bored gaze from your book and stared at him head on. “Do I need to repeat myself, Mulciber? Mummy and daddy kept it too close in the family tree, huh?” You murmured in faux sympathy. “I was just thinking, most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight ought to be culled. That would save the wizarding world a whole lot of trouble.”

“How dare you compare me to some filthy half-breed. My family is royalty compared to those disgusting creatures.” Avery shouted.

“The only one acting like a disgusting creature here is the likes of you tossers.” You shouted back.

“Alright.” The professor tried (not very hard, albeit) to quell the quickly spiralling discussion.

“I could hardly look at myself in a mirror if I’d been tainted with a curse like lycanthropy.” Snape sneered, pointedly facing the Marauders across the room. Sirius burned with shame and protectiveness, being the reason Snape knew Remus’ secret and the overwhelming need to defend his lover. Remus took that moment to dig his nails into Sirius' thigh again, pinning him to his seat.

“Are you sure, Snape? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live a life with lycanthropy than have to look at that mug of yours in the mirror every day.” You drawled.

“You insolent little bitch.”

“Hey!” James finally shouted from across the room, far more stern than Remus can ever remember seeing the boy. But you carried on, completely undeterred. 

“I’d bet ten thousand galleons that not one werewolf ever asked to be a werewolf, yet you wake up each and every morning actively choosing to be the ugliest, most hateful, vile, disgusting beasts known to mankind. That is what is despicable. That is what should be euthanized on site.” Your voice grew louder and louder with each word until you were standing behind your desk and punctuating each word with a slam of your fist against the table in front of you. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” The professor finally called; tone booming across the lecture hall intoning no nonsense. 

“Mr. Mulciber, Mr. Snape, and Miss. L/N. Detention with me this evening.”

The Slytherin boys all scoffed and cursed under their breath whilst you offered a bored shrug of your shoulders, returning to your textbook as though this was just a run of the mill day for you.

The boys had been absolutely right; you just won over the affections of one Remus John Lupin.  

#ask elle #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly marauders x you #poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #poly!marauders #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #james potter x reader #james potter x you #slytherin!reader #ellecdc fics

[tojipure]

Haunted

masterlist - part one

I tried my best to tag as many people!

The long awaited part two! I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to your guys expectations! I really felt like so much people were waiting for a part two and I've been so busy, but hopefully you all enjoy!

You were like a shot of espresso, a ray of sunlight and one would be so lucky just to even be in your presence.

That's how he saw it at least. The gummy smile that was glued on your face as you listened to Megumi's silly stories he'd make up just to entertain you.

Wherever you stepped foot, the mood would lighten drastically.

He knew that because if you were here with him right now, Megumi wouldn't be crying his heart out begging his dad to call you. Toji wouldn't be struggling to fall asleep as he looked at your side of the bed imagining you there. He wouldn't be crossing his fingers hoping that every notification on his phone would be you.

"The princess and prince got married and lived happily ever after." You smiled as Megumi watched you close the book in awe. His cheeks were painted with a light pink, "You and Daddy?" You couldn't help but giggle at cute sleepy Megumi.

"No..." You whispered, noticing his eyes getting heavy.

Toji's eyes shifted towards you and his baby boy on the shared bed, Megumi of course having one of his fits and you never being able to say no to him. His heart felt heavy, hearing the cold truth slip from your mouth.

"You've been out of it Fushiguro..."

There he was back to reality in his cold—big office. Standing in front of him was Shiu, his best and his closest employee. "Zenin." Toji corrected which caught Shiu by surprise. Toji was proud to have his wife's last name, yet here he is using his last name.

No wedding ring? Shiu thought to himself, looking at Toji’s empty fingers. But in fact his fingers were not empty, because there sat the dark purple promise ring you had gotten him for your third year anniversary. Shiu smiled to himself, he was moving on—for the better. 

“You and Y/n are doing better, I guess?” He sighs, taking a couple steps towards his boss’s desk and plopping himself on the chair in front of him. His smile fading hearing the vague no, coming from his boss. 

“She left actually, but it’s better this way.” 

“Is it?” 

“No, it’s not.” You smiled as the soft yellow light from the candle illuminated onto your face. How Toji’s heart melted when he saw that little sparkle in your eyes. “I actually love kids.” Your eyes shifted to the little stroller after Toji mentioned how stupid it was to try to go on dates as he had a whole baby. 

“It’s been rough ever since my wife passed.” 

He remembers that look on your face when he told you how recently his wife had passed. It was the first date, he brought his son and mentioned his dead wife. There was no way he would ever see you again after that. But he was wrong because you always found your way back.

“Daddy—gumi hungry!” The little boy pouted as Toji noticed the burning smell of the food. It had been way too much now, spacing out every chance he had just to think about you.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

He wonders if you’re doing better now that you left him.

Probably, right?

Wrong.

“You need to clean this place up, it’s a mess y/n.” Your mom says entering your small apartment. The tiny cans of energy drinks scattered around the place, tissues and a pile of blankets on the couch.

She sighed watching your frail body sit up from the couch, her arm wrapped around your body and she placed small kisses on your forehead.

“It’s gonna take a while to get back on his feet. When your father passed away, it took years for me to officially realize that he was gone y/n.”

That’s what hurt the most, how long was Toji willing to take to realize? What if he forgets about you?

“Go back to your daily life, my baby he will call you when he’s ready. I see the love in his eyes.” She smiled once more before bringing you closer in her embrace.

This is what you needed.

The embrace of someone else’s while your life was slowly changing.

His thumb hovered over your contact. His hands shaking as the tears swell in his eyes. It’s been well over six months since the break up.

Toji was more than ready.

He was just afraid now, afraid of the fact that the women he had a past with moved on and would reject his return.

His thumb firmly pressing the dial button as he brings his phone up towards his ear. He could feel his throat closing and his stomach churning.

“Hello?”

<- previous next part ->

taglist: @ssc7514@utarts@my1guilty1pleasures@bangchansthings@nxxun-blog@sidelnes@khaleesihavilliard@wr4inn@r0ckst4rjk@iwishigotswallowed@ryumurin@traacy-lin@aikori6@slowlyswimmingmoon@mikyapixie@dreamlessnight@maliakealoha

#rosipuree #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #angst #jjk angst #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #fushiguro #toji x you

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Jealous, Jealous, Boy || Young president!Snow X Plinth!Reader

GIF by @fuckyeahtomblyth and divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Being Panem’s First Lady was not all luxurious or happy. Snow was often cold, focused on Gamemaking leaving you to do whatever you pleased to do. But when new arrive to him that you were being awfully to friendly with one of the elitists, Snow always lands on top.

Warnings: toxic/possesive Snow

Wc:

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

“And where have you been, my darling wife?” Snow’s voice calls out as you pause slightly before shutting the doors behind you. Smoothing down the fitted dress, your heels click as you walk towards the drawing room. You see Snow sitting on an armchair, his back facing you as your fingers tap against your thigh.

“I asked you a question,” He voices out, his head turning to the side. “I visited the academy, wanted to see how the students were going.” You softly spoke out. It wasn’t a lie. You were bored out of your mind as of this morning, Tigris had to cancel on your weekly meet up and Snow was going to be stuck in his office all day like every other day.

“Come, sit.” He turns his head back around. It was dead silent apart from the clicking of your heels as you sit at the armchair beside Coriolanus’. “How’s the little one?” He makes eye contact with you, his arms folding as you furrow your eyebrows at him.

“Oh don’t act stupid Y/n, you don’t think I don’t get informed when you don’t bleed?” He chuckles, amused. Instinctively, your hand caresses your lower abdomen. Snow watches silently, “Can I?” “Hm?” “Can I feel it?” The corners of your lips slightly tug up. “Of course Coryo,” his nickname slipped out of your mouth. It had been such a long time since you’ve called him something so personal.

Snow’s large hands slowly move to your clothed abdomen. His fingers were ever so close, but you could tell he was hesitant. You take his hand and place it at the barely there bump. You intently watch Snow’s feature soften. Although they were quite young, a child would only help strengthen the family.

And just like that, his features harden. His cold façade back. He retreats his hand back, rubbing his forehead. “What are you thinking about?” You quietly ask, your eyes on your hands as you fidget. Coriolanus was always like this.

Shutting himself away whenever he felt a slight tinge of happiness, or the feeling of being loved. He hated the it; bringing him awful memories. “I’m thinking, y/n, of what I should do.” He stands up as your eyes follow him moving towards the alcohol on the table. “I’ve been informed that you have gotten quite comfortable with one of the elitists, am I wrong?”

Silence. “I said, am. I. wrong!” He yells, throwing the shot glass at the portrait of you and him on your wedding day. You quietly scream as you bring your hands up to your ears. You were shaking. Tears uncontrollably fell from your eyes as you sobbed. Snow hardly ever showed you his violent side. Feeling his presence coming towards you, you move your legs towards your chest.

“Shhh…” He takes your hands in his. You slowly look up towards your husband who’s staring at you so intensely. He lifts your chin up with his index finger. “You know I would never hurt you,” he says ever so softly, “or our unborn child,” His eyes flicker to your stomach.

“For the sake of my sanity, you are to stay home. You are not permitted to visit the academy. Do you understand, wife?” Your gaze falters, Snow pushes your chin up higher once again, forcing you to look at his blue irises. “Do you understand?” Snow says, this time it was barely a whisper.

You nodding your head was not sufficient enough for him. “Give me words.” “Yes. Yes I understand, husband” His face contorts into satisfaction. “Reed was it? Is that his name?” You slowly nod, he already knew that, he just wanted you to admit to it. “I didn’t cheat.” “Hm, I believe you. Reed will be kicked out, he should know his place.”

Coriolanus gives you one final kiss before straightening up and walking away.

#Coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes

[unclewaynemunson]

After Eddie and Max were brought into the hospital, the waiting room was packed with people. But as time passed by, it got quieter. One by one, worried parents came by to pick up their kids.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with me?” Robin asked Steve when her mother arrived.

Steve nodded. “Go home, Rob, it's okay. Just wanna make sure Max's mom and Eddie's uncle get here.”

She shot him a worried look, but she knew him well enough to recognize when she wouldn't be able to persuade him – and Steve in turn knew that there was no way Mrs. Buckley would leave the hospital without Robin, after all that had happened that night.

So Steve stayed and waited with Lucas in Max's room for Mrs. Mayfield. When she arrived, he decided to give them some privacy and wandered over to Eddie's room a couple of doors down the hall.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if Eddie would already have returned from the operation room – and if so, if it would be good or bad news waiting for him on the other side of the door.

He swallowed. Waiting motionlessly in the corridor wouldn't change what he'd find. So he raised his hand and slowly pushed the door open.

Eddie was inside, leaning against a pillow in his bed. He was as white as the sheets around him and he had large stitches in one of his cheeks, but other than that, he looked – alive.

“Eddie,” Steve breathed out while an overwhelming wave of relief washed over him.

It was only then that he noticed the other people in the room and stopped in his tracks.

Eddie's uncle was sitting at his bedside, wearing sweatpants and only an undershirt underneath his denim jacket. He looked exhausted, but just as relieved as Steve felt.

But that wasn't what had sparked Steve's surprise. No, the thing that Steve couldn't make sense of, was the man who was sat in the chair next to Wayne Munson. It was Steve's old middle school science teacher, Scott Clarke. He was dressed in a plaid flannel that seemed more Mr. Munson's style than his own, buttoned askew on top of a pair of striped pajama pants.

“Mr. Clarke? What are you doing here?” The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Who are you?” Mr. Munson asked Steve before Mr. Clarke could say anything. It sounded defensive on the verge of being aggressive, but Steve couldn't really blame him for that, considering what the majority of Hawkins currently thought about Eddie.

“Steve Harrington,” he said, holding out his hand.

The lines on Mr. Munson's forehead deepened.

“He's my friend,” Eddie said. His voice sounded hoarse and weak, but Steve still felt a rush of warmth course through his whole body because of the words he said. “He saved my life.”

“Oh.” Mr. Munson's eyes widened slightly and he finally took Steve's hand. “Wayne Munson. Eddie's uncle. Pleased meetin' ya.”

“It's good to see you again, Steve,” Mr. Clarke remarked. “You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you.”

“I didn't expect to see you here, Mr. Clarke,” Steve noted, still trying to make sense of what exactly his old science teacher was doing in this room.

“Uncle Scott is also my uncle,” Eddie explained.

Steve looked back and forth between Mr. Munson and Mr. Clarke, trying to find any kind of resemblance between the two of them.

“You're brothers?” he couldn't help but ask, unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice. He would never have guessed that those two men were related to each other.

“Steve, no...” Eddie's voice was almost a whisper and had an undertone of something that sounded an awful lot like exasperation. Steve knew that tone all too well; he had never been good at restraining himself from asking stupid questions, after all.

He noticed how the two men exchanged some kind of meaningful glance with each other.

“Um, I think we should go get some coffee, Wayne,” Mr. Clarke said. “Leave the boys to catch up.”

Mr. Munson nodded, but before he got up, he looked at Eddie. "You'll be alright?" he asked, a worried frown on his face.

Eddie nodded. "It's fine, Uncle Wayne." He said it softly, like he was trying to reassure his uncle, and only after Eddie gave him another emphatic nod, Mr. Munson started following Mr. Clarke out of the room.

Just when Steve realized Mr. Clarke must be Eddie's uncle from his mom's side while Mr. Munson had to be his dad's brother, Wayne let his hand linger on the small of Mr. Clarke's back. It was a tiny moment, that only lasted a second right before they went through the door, easy to miss if one weren't paying close attention. But it was still enough for Steve to understand the exasperation in Eddie's voice and the unease on his uncles' faces. That one touch told Steve all he needed to know: there was this casual, easy kind of intimacy behind it that only long-term partners shared. He had seen his parents act like that, and Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair...

“No fucking way,” he breathed out at the moment the door quietly shut behind Mr. Munson. He turned back to Eddie with wide eyes and his jaw dropped.

“Your uncle is – and he's with Scott Clarke?”

Eddie's jaw clenched. “You got a problem with that?”

In his pure astonishment, Steve barely even registered Eddie's question.

“That's impossible!” he all but exclaimed. “Here – in Hawkins? How?!”

Eddie looked slightly past Steve's face, to the bare white wall behind him. “Jesus Christ, Steve,” he said. “You've seen dozens of hell monsters and walked through an alternate dimension to fight an evil sorcerer, and this is what you decide is impossible?”

“Well, it is,” Steve stubbornly said.

He remembered how he once felt about his teammate Thomas, back in his freshman year, remembered the ache in his chest exactly because of how impossible it was. He remembered Robin talking about Tammy Thompson in that bathroom stall filled with the scent of their puke. But Tammy Thompson is a girl, he had said, in his instinctive and perhaps naive confusion - not because he deemed it impossible for Robin to feel that way about a girl, but because up until that point, he had deemed it irrelevant. He knew better than anyone that those kind of feelings would flare up from time to time around certain people, but as far as he was concerned, it didn't matter. There was no way to act on it, no point in lingering on something that was impossible to have anyway.

“They've been together for over a decade,” Eddie said. His voice suddenly lacked its usual warmth; a warmth that Steve had gotten used to over the past few days; a warmth that left a weird feeling of loss behind in Steve's chest now that it wasn't there. “They make each other happy. They don't hurt anyone with it. So don't fucking tell me it's impossible, man. They love each other, and if you're gonna be a dick about that, I'm gonna have to kindly ask you to fuck the hell off.”

“Woah, woah, woah, wait,” Steve hurriedly sputtered. “I'm not – I didn't-” The words got stuck in his throat, somehow. He didn't quite know how to explain the storm that was raging inside of him, the many emotions he felt upon discovering that there were two men happily sharing their lives together, who lived in the same town as he did. Two men who were just like him, who had figured out a way to not hide away, who had somehow found their way to each other, and who had fallen in love without it being something they needed to repress.

“I didn't know – that it could be like that,” he finally managed to stutter. “I never even imagined a future like that for myself. I didn't know – I thought we were just supposed to pretend like those parts of ourselves don't exist and marry a woman. I never met anyone who did it differently.”

Finally, Eddie averted his gaze to look at him again. His eyes were a little bit wider and he was staring at him so intensely that Steve felt something stir deep in his stomach.

“Stevie,” he said, his voice quiet and so much warmer than before in a way that sent a shiver down Steve's spine. “Jesus, I'm sorry, I had no idea. I thought you were saying..." He cut himself off and inhaled deeply, slightly shaking his head. "Listen, man, there's always a choice. I'm not saying it's easy; my uncles have to hide a lot of what they mean to each other when they're in public. They're risking Scott's job, and maybe even a whole lot more if the wrong people find out about them... But there is always a choice. They're much happier together than they would've been if they had chosen to hide and marry a woman, or if they'd spent their whole lives alone.”

Steve had to take a moment to let Eddie's words sink in. Eddie merely kept looking at him, not making a single sound, patiently waiting for him to get his thoughts straight again.

“Are there more people like them, here in Hawkins?” Steve finally asked.

“Not many,” Eddie answered. “Most people who are different move to the bigger cities, where you're a bit more free to be yourself. But they're friends with this lesbian couple who lives a few streets over. And they know some people in Indy, but Wayne refuses to move there. He's too much of a small town boy, he says.” Eddie rolled his eyes at that last part, as if he could in no way comprehend the thought of preferring Hawkins over a big city like Indianapolis.

But Steve did comprehend it. Hawkins was his home. Even after everything that happened to him here, it was where he belonged. It was where everyone he cared about was. He wasn't naive, he knew that that was bound to change at some point, but he had never dared to dream about going someplace else himself. He had never even dared to dream about being someone else. Yet here he was, sitting at the bedside of a boy whose eyes he hadn't stopped thinking about for days.

Maybe it was about time to change his perception of what was possible and what wasn't.

“I know one person who's like – like me,” he admitted. He wanted to tell Eddie about Robin. He knew that there was nothing to worry about – but he also knew it wasn't up to him to share her secret. “I don't know if this is a weird idea," he continued, "but maybe we could all, like, get together sometime. Your uncle, mister Clarke, their lesbian friends...” The idea of it made him feel weirdly excited. He couldn't really imagine what it would be like, to spend a whole evening surrounded by people he had this one thing in common with.

“Not a weird idea,” Eddie told him, that soft look still shining in his big brown eyes. “Sounds awesome, actually.”

“If we do something like that...” Steve hesitated for a moment. “Would you be there too?”

Despite the stitches in his cheek, Eddie managed to smile, dimples and all. He raised a pale hand and pulled a strand of his hair across his face, like he was trying to hide something written on the skin around his lips. “I thought that was obvious,” he said with a chuckle.

Steve chuckled as well. “Just needed to be sure,” he admitted.

He stretched out his hand and put it on top of Eddie's, where it was resting on top of the sheets. It only took a few seconds: he gently squeezed Eddie's hand, then pulled back again, still nervous and not quite knowing what exactly they were headed towards. But no matter how short, the touch still sent sparks through his whole body.

“I'm glad you're alive,” he said, softly.

Eddie's smile became just a little bit wider, and a faint blush colored his pale cheeks. “Me too, big boy. Believe me, me too.”

(I wrote this bc this post by @boldlyvoid refused to leave my brain for literal months)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #scott clarke #clarkson my beloved #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[luveline]

we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k

“Spencer, are you coming in?” 

The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 

“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 

He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 

You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 

“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 

Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 

“Shot at.” 

“Is it bad?” 

Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 

He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 

You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 

“I'm looking at you.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 

Of course he knows that. 

“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 

“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 

Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 

Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 

He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 

Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.

“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 

“It's not your fault, Spence.” 

“What would you call it?” 

You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 

“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 

He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 

“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 

Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 

“I told you it's not your fault.” 

“For not being here to hold your hand.” 

Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 

“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“What was I supposed to think?” 

He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 

This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 

They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 

“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 

He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 

“Forever, then.” 

For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[rae-writes]

colored lenses

om brothers x reader

wc : 2.k

warnings : nsfw under the cut

synopsis : they say the eyes are the doorway to ones soul, and if that’s the case, yours must be intertwined with his, no?

a/n : nooo, asmo’s part was not rushed, I don’t know what you’re talking about-

Lucifer 

He’d seen a flash of it before- a quick glimmer of midnight blue in your eyes before it was gone

He never thought anything of it though, not until he saw it fully 

Diavolo had been going over everyone’s midterm grades and was congratulating you on your scores 

Lucifer noticed your typical polite smile as you waved off his praise, but his eyes were trained on how your hues lit up bright, prideful blue 

It made his mouth go dry; he was in awe

Subtlety, he’ll begin complimenting you more on the things you do so he can see that riveting shock of color

Mammon

On rare occasions do your eyes flash his pretty yellow, but the first time he saw it sent him reeling 

The two of you were having a gaming competition with Levi and you’d finished first. “W-what?! Alright, best 3 out of 4! Winner gets a prize!” 

Mammon was about to refuse, knowing he didn’t stand a chance at Devilkart if Levi was playing, but-

“Hell yeah, you’re on!” Grinning determinedly, your eyes flickered with golden yellow 

The second born almost passed away on the spot

He might’ve gotten a bit more greedy seeing the sin on you, and fuck, did you look like a gem with it 

Levi

Levi saw your eyes flash the colors of his brothers’ power from time to time, but given his sin, he didn’t mind the lack of seeing his own

He didn’t know how thrilling it could be though

You two had been out in town when he got stopped by a very flirty demon. He was too busy trying to get out of the conversation— he didn’t even realize…

When he glanced over at you for help, his body heated considerably at the sight of your eyes flashing a toxic orange 

If he wasn’t so familiar with the sin he’d be sweating, but you make it look heavenly 

Envy might not be a good feeling, but it’s a good look on you

Satan

The fourth born had felt your rage rise and simmer many times before

Being able to physically see it was a whole other experience he didn’t know he needed in life

Another rowdy night at the dinner table- typical - but you had a migraine and had asked the boys to stop five times now

It’s safe to say you were a bit pissed, and Satan knew it. When he glanced up, though, all thoughts of scolding his brothers went away 

You sat there with your jaw clenched, eyes twinkling with wrath green. It was gorgeous. 

Satan finds himself craving the look of his wrath on you, however he wouldn’t want his sin to trouble you too often

Asmo ; suggestive

Ohh when he discovered this little addition to having a pact with them, Asmo dreamed about seeing it every night (and got a little jealous when he saw his brothers’ colors instead)

He just needed to practice a little patience though

Upon Diavolo’s insistence, the student council was treated to drinks at the fall, and Asmo was already a little buzzed when he dragged you to dance 

Body grinding against yours, he turned towards you in hopes of stealing a kiss- only to see a shock of pink in your irises

Heat shot through Asmo immediately; he couldn’t keep his hands to himself after that

More, more, more! Asmo adores seeing his sin on you and he doesn’t mind begging for it either

Beel

There were many times when he thought he saw a peak of red in your eyes as the two of you got food, but he always brushed it off as a trick of the lighting 

It was only until you had to skip breakfast and lunch one day did Beel realize ‘oh’

You were leaning against him as you walked to Hell’s Kitchen, grumbling and complaining loudly

At Beel’s offer to carry you, you glanced up pitifully, showing the red hue bleeding into the color of your eyes

His own eyes widened, cheeks beginning to flush a deep pink

While he never wants you to go hungry, he doesn’t mind admitting that seeing his red on you is pleasing

Belphie 

Soft waves of purple inside sleep riddled eyes were something Belphie saw often and loved every time he did 

The first time was special, though. Right after you’d come back to the Devildom the first time, saddled in his arms after so long of him not having you 

Sleepy you and even sleepier Belphie, but he wasn’t too out of it to miss the gentle light of purple 

He was confused at first, but the familiar color shocked him awake and his heart nearly beat out of his chest 

Sloth. His sloth. Showing up in you like it was the most natural thing in the 3 realms. He liked it better on you. 

Even more than before, Belphie begs to sleep or nap with you— he needs to see it happen again and again

nsfw ver.

Lucifer 

Tensions high and adrenaline running through your and his veins like lightning 

Diavolo was due to come for a meeting in no more than 10 minutes

You knew that. Lucifer knew that. Yet you were still on your knees, tongue swirling around the head of his cock while you peered up at him through your lashes 

His head was thrown back, eyes clenched, trying to compose himself— you didn’t like that. You wanted his attention. 

Humming, you dug your nails into the exposed skin of his thigh, fighting back a grin when his head snapped up

Ruby hues narrowed down at you, ready to scold when the words died in his throat 

The color of your irises had been completely taken over by his blue, shining with pride at the situation you had him in 

Gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to moan, he chose to growl instead and thrust into your mouth sharply, smirking when the blue shone brighter at the taste of his cum

“Proud to be mine, Mc?” 

Mammon

“Harder!” 

Mammon gasped, hips following your order smoothly, “H-hah..what has gotten into you today?”

You whined as you pulled him closer, choosing not to answer in favor of burying your face in his neck 

The moment he had walked through the door, you were all over him, begging and pleading to have him (which he’d never say no to) 

“Mc-“ he tugged your head back by your hair, a sharp moan instantly following when he saw your eyes; shimmering greed in the form of yellow 

Picking up the pace, Mammon held your head up by your jaw, demanding you keep your pretty eyes on him 

Murmurs of ‘mine’ and ‘’s pretty f’me’ left him as he filled you up, watching the yellow flash gold

“Again. Wan’ more, Mammon- more of you.”

His own greed flared, making your pact burn pleasantly, “That’s right, Mc, show me your greed.”

Levi

You wanted Levi’s attention and you wanted it now but he was too caught up in the new official Ruri-Chan illustrations (with special outfits too)

Glaring at his back, you could feel magic pooling in your irises 

“Levi.” Without waiting for a response, you yank his chair back and fiddle with his pants, “Give me attention.” 

“Mc-!” He gaped as you took his cock in your hands, tail whipping out to wrap around your waist when you sheathed him fully inside 

His eyes shot up to meet yours, wanting to ask what all this was about, when the air practically left him 

There you were, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and eyes still glaring down at him- only this time they were orange 

Levi whined loudly, hips involuntarily raising you up before he settled back down again, keen on letting you fuck him however you pleased 

And fuck him you did, one hand tangling in his hair while the other rested against the base of his neck, hips not stopping their movements even after he’d already spilled inside you

“Quell my envy, Levi.”

Satan

You and Satan had gotten into a small dispute, but the feel of his anger coursing through your pact made you angry

Arms wrapped around your waist, lithe fingers gripping your hips hesitantly, but firmly, “I apologize. Shall we take some time to cool off?” 

“I think we can cool each other off.” You glanced up with newly green hues, eyes narrowing involuntarily

Satan’s lips parted and he immediately grabbed you up and pressed you against one of the bookshelves, fiddling with your clothes until he was lined up and pressing into you 

He set a hard, furious pace instantly, “How is it that you manage to be the one that calms me down and makes me so mad I can’t think, hm?” 

You did nothing but tug at his blonde locks, bright green becoming darker as the seconds pass

And despite loving the neon color on you, Satan can’t help but coo at the sight of it fading— all because of him fucking it out of you

“Kiss.” 

His own wrath faded down to nothing, lips covering yours softly as he held you close while you both finished together. “Calm the savage beast, yeah?”

Asmo

“C’mon, sweetheart, lemme see it- please? Pretty, pretty, pretty please? Show it to me.” 

Asmo curled his fingers up just right, sending your body lurching in its chair and your eyes shooting open wide 

“There it is…” alluring pink encased your irises, sending Azzy’s eyes flashing pink in return 

Gasping, your eyes darted around until they landed on the self-satisfied expression your lover wore— you grinned

The phantom feeling of fingers pushing inside him made Asmo squeal, jumping up from his spot in surprise 

With eyes now glowing a neon shade, you stared down at him while bucking your hips, “What’s the matter? Why’d you stop- was feeling so good.” 

He gaped- you were using magic to mimic touching him. “Naughty~” 

The two of you refused to let up until he’d came all over your lower half and your cum covered his fingers— and both your eyes were literally glowing

“Not done yet, darling~ let’s see if the pink can drown out the whites of your eyes too~” 

Beel

“Mmph— hey…” Beel frowned, visibly deflating when you pushed his head out from between your legs, “‘m hungry…”

You kept pushing until he was flat on his back, “Me too.” 

Heat shot straight to his cock- which you were pawing at- from the look you gave him; your irises were red

And he didn’t fully understand right away, not even when you settled on top of his face while also wrapping your lips around him 

“w’nna taste y’too.” 

Beel complied eagerly though, burying his face back in his spot while he tried not to thrust his hips 

Only when you began quickening your ministrations with a muffled “give it t’me, beelie, ‘m hungry— wan’ it, wan’ y’r cum” did he click the pieces together 

And though he tried not to, his hips stutter and thrust up, following your lead until he’s filling your mouth

Practically in awe at the way you don’t waste a drop, his sin cracks through his body- sending it flaring up in your own. “Again. ‘M still hungry, Mc..don’t you want more too?” 

Belphie

Choked whines echoed in the attic, turning into embarrassed stuttering when you suddenly shifted and slid into his lap sluggishly 

“Why didn’t you just ask for-“ you paused to yawn, “-help?” peering down at him with a purple glow, your hand replaced his on his cock

Belphie was basically speechless, watching you tiredly jerk him off before shuffling, working on getting your clothes out of the way

“W-wait! You don’t have to- ah!” 

You sunk down comfortably, rocking back and forth at a leisure pace while stifling another yawn. “Help, please.” 

His hips began moving before you could even say ‘please’, hands trailing under your shirt

“‘S good to me, my favorite human, makes me feel s’good—“ Belphie broke off with a moan, clamping his eyes shut at the embarrassing ‘ah, ah, ah’s that were leaving his mouth

The slow buildup was setting both your senses on fire, but you stopped him from moving faster (making him whine louder). “Slow, Bel…’m tired.”

#obey me x reader #obey me smut #om smut #om x reader #lucifer x reader #om lucifer #mammon x reader #om mammon #leviathan x reader #om levi #satan x reader #om satan #asmo x reader #om asmodeus #beel x reader #om beelzebub #belphie x reader #om belphegor

[strawbeerossi]

Silencing Spencer Reid

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer likes how you listen to him ramble about things that interest him. He also likes your method of telling him to shut up.

Content/Warnings: Reader is a little mean because she has a headache, Spencer ramblings, oral (f receiving), face sitting (duh), degradation, pet names (pretty boy)

Word Count: 1.1K

Kinktober Day Eleven: Facesitting

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You liked listening to Spencer talk, something about his voice being calming to listen to. Listening to him ramble was like heaven, watching him get excited to tell you every bit of information that plagued his brain on one specific subject. Spencer was honestly grateful, liking the way you actually showed care to what he had to say and telling him your own thoughts. However there was another side of you that he liked.

“Spencer, honey, can you please just give me five minutes? I have a really bad headache.” you spoke as you were walking through your shared apartment, your boyfriend following behind you like a little puppy. “But you haven’t even heard the best part about this episode! I mean, you have no idea how crazy it is when he-” Spencer was cut off by the palm of your hand pressed against his mouth.  “I love you so much but you need to just.. Fuck, go sit on the couch for a minute.” You snapped. You knew you’d feel awful about it later but right now you were just frustrated. 

Spencer wasn’t negatively affected, instead a rush of blood rushing down to his cock. He was getting under your skin, just what he was intending on doing. All he needed now though was you to shut him up, to put him in his place. He’d been sexually frustrated all day and he wanted nothing more than to have your soaked cunt on his face, making a mess of his jaw while you used his tongue to get yourself off. The thought of your slick arousal on his tongue was enough to make him drool.

“But baby, don’t you wanna hear about my theories? I mean the show is so interesting and you know I’m passionate about this character.” He was rambling now, only blushing as you shot him a warning look, one that he was used to from the amount of times he attempted to test you. He knew the punishment would be severe but he didn’t care, he needed to taste your essence sooner rather than later. “Come on..” 

Whenever Spencer wasn’t getting the hint though, you were frowning. Now if your head wasn’t pounding, you would’ve realized what he was doing. Right now though, he looked like a brat who couldn’t seem to follow your damn directions. “Go lay down. Now.” You murmured, the male perking up at getting just what he wanted before scrambling off to the bedroom. You were joining him a few minutes later, already pulling your pants down your legs along with your panties. “Don’t get any ideas, brats don’t deserve to be touched or cum. You are servicing me tonight. That’s it.” The harshness of your voice had a whimper rip from his throat, his head nodding slowly. 

Contrary to most men, Spencer could spend hours lapping at your cunt. He enjoyed making you feel good, your fingers tangling in his hair while shoving his face deeper into your warmth. He could cum just from that alone. “I’m gonna sit on your face tonight. Got it, pretty boy?” Just from the look on his face, you could tell that he was eager to flick his tongue into your sweetness, having you rock your hips against his face solely to pleasure yourself. “Yes!” He was desperate, head lifting as his eyes were fixated on your bare lower half.

After getting your shirt off and throwing it on the ground along with the small pile of your other clothes. “You know, Spencer.. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted this.” You spoke in a low tone while facing him with a frown, body climbing onto the bed as you were crawling to get situated. With your knees on either side of Spencer’s face, you were glancing down at your boyfriend who had his usual doe eyes that were clouded over with arousal. “You need to listen better, you know. You shouldn’t upset me on purpose.”

Spencer didn’t have time to respond whenever he was face to face with your wet pussy, his hands coming up to hold your hips before gently tugging your lower half onto his mouth. 

His tongue was darting out to flick over your throbbing clit, your fingers tangling into his messy curls while you let your head fall forward with a soft breath. “Fuck, put that mouth to good use.” You spoke, the sinful sounds of suckling filling the room whenever he got the chance to take your bud into his mouth. When he’d pulled off with a pop sound filling the room, he didn't waste time to drag his tongue through your slit, giving himself a taste of what he was so desperate for. “Pretty boy, don’t keep me waiting.” You spoke, which he didn’t need a warning before his tongue was breaching your leaking sex. 

Pistoning his tongue into your sweet cunt, he relished in the feeling of your velvety walls constricting his tongue from the surprise of him getting right to work. He drank every ounce of arousal you gave him, eyes fluttering shut as his moans were muffling against your pussy. His hands were assisting you as you were rocking against the warm muscle working its magic, leaving you desperate for so much more. “Mmm, is this what you wanted? Me to ride that pretty face of yours? You could’ve asked, baby. You didn’t have to get under my skin and get yourself in trouble.” You tsked while glancing down at the fucked out face of your boyfriend underneath you. 

His vigor was making that familiar warmth in your stomach grow, knowing that you were close. Spencer had known your body by now, so as he knew you were close, he was focusing on your clit once more, sucking harshly as he had you letting out curses and sharp gasps as you were desperately rocking your hips against your partner’s face. “I’m gonna cum.” You whispered while both hands were roughly gripping his messy hair.

With a soft cry, it wasn’t long until your creamy arousal was flowing into his mouth, Spencer was eagerly licking up the sweetness as he was letting his head tilt back against the pillow with a deep groan. “Good job, pretty boy.” Your cooing caused a sheepish smile to spread across his face as he blushed.

“Go take a shower.” You hum, crawling off of his face while Spencer was pushing himself to sit up. His eyes were glossed over, his mouth and chin soaked, and his hair was all over the place from her fingers gripping and pulling it. “You look so pretty.” You cooed while making his blush deepen, drunk off of your pussy as he was slowly pushing himself to stand. “Can I please touch myself?” His voice was whiny, filled with need as he stared at you. 

“Nope. I told you, pretty boy, this is a punishment.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #strawbeerossi kinktober 2023

[starzshopoflove]

Worlds biggest snoop

Soap is nosy as fuck and drags poor Gaz into his nonsense, Ghost just misses you.

Notes: fem reader! sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader, Soap is nosy, drabble! (WC:936)

Okay, it was bound to happen eventually. Simons on deployment and his poor little civilian girlfriend is left all alone in her little bookshop while he's away on base. Of course he told you before he left and, you both made sure to spend plenty of time together on dates (and in bed)

You send him off with plenty of hugs and kisses reminding him to call whenever he has time and not to forget to take care of himself. Simon would probably keep a few photos of you in his gallery in a locked album that he looks at every night before sleeping once he’s called you.

This man is so paranoid, he even changes his wallpaper. It was a photo of you holding a pie you both made together ( he stood on the side reading the instructions while you did all the work bc you were to scared he would mess with the dough, this man has lived off of mre’s and meat his ass can NOT bake) with a little ghost dough shape baked on the top. Now its just a picture of a pile of books with your glasses on the top of the stack. Easy enough to pass off as a nice photo and still something to remind him of you.

He makes sure he has no trace of you on him once he's on base. Save for the one picture he has of you both holding a big bouquet of flowers side by side, he's staring at you stare at the camera like a love sick puppy, while you're smiling so wide your eyes are shut. That's the only thing he will keep on him, if he dies on the field he wants the last thing he sees to be you. Other than that he risks nothing.

Plain clothes that don't have your smell, none of the fancy lotions you’ve forced him to use, none of the little trinkets you slip in his pocket, none of the little letters you've slipped in his bag (He saved those to read when he came back).

Nothing.

But he was bound to fuck up eventually no?

Soap was the first to get nosy. His LT was never this calm or relaxed on deployment. He rushed a little more to get to his office each night. What was even weirder is he would lock the door this time, he never locked the door.

So of course he started taking matters into his own hands. Standing behind Ghost when he was sitting down on his phone, once he even saw him scroll past the locked album. He didn't open it of course. He never opened that unless he was alone, but he scrolled past it and Soap could see the album title.

Your Initial with a heart next to it.

This is when all the bells actually went off in his head. At first he thought Ghost finally went to therapy (LMAO NO) or maybe picked up a hobby (DOUBLE NO), but heart emojis? What on Gods green earth had moved thee Ghost to using a heart emoji

Soap was sticking like glue to Simon, reluctantly he tolerated this. Except of course when 9pm rolled around and he was kicking him out of the office. 

“Come on Lt, what you gettin 'rid ‘f me for? Not like yer gonna wank in the office yeah?” 

“Get out” 

“Aw come on can't spare ya favorite sargent a couple hours to entertain?”

Soap was whining at this point just being an annoying little shit to try and break him.

“Out”

Ghost just dragged him out by the collar like a misbehaved kitten.

Making a show of it Johnny walked down the halls wailing about how Ghost must hate him and that their friendship means nothing, while Simons just watched him tumble around dramatically wrapping his arms around Gaz. 

Once he hears the click of Ghost's office door locking he instantly straightens up, face locked on like he's on a mission and arm wrapped around Gaz like iron. 

Gaz the poor boy, is verily confused watching this interaction, more confused as to why Soap is dragging him to their Lt’s door.

"C’mon”

Soap hisses pressing his ear on the door motioning Kyle to do the same. 

“Fuck is you doing?”

Gaz is looking as Soap like a child who's about to get a shot, lips pursed tightly, eyes narrowed up. Course Johnny just pulls him to press up too.

Price probably just walks past them mumbling some nonsense about kids these days ignoring it, the less he knows the better

The 2 stand there in silence for a good moment until they hear the classic dialing of a number and the shifting of what sounds like Ghost taking off his mask. 

Then, the sound of a woman's voice?

“Well you look awfully tired”

Oh my god Lt’s calling a woman

Your voice is chirpy and bright probably since you’ve got the night shift and had enough sleep to run the shop for the night. You little chitters of how your day went and questions of concern filled the room soothing Simon's nerves of whatever he was worrying about that day. 

Soap and Gaz are jaw slacked behind the door staring at each other listening to this. Lt’s bird chirping through the little phone speaker and him actually replying in full sentences in a soft warm tone they didn't know existed 

The 2 scatter before the call ends giggling to each other, well Soap giggling Gaz trying to process how Lt got a girl before him

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mw x reader #cod simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #john price #captain price #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #kyle gaz garrick #fluff #x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #cod modern warfare

[verstappen-cult]

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, LESTAPPEN.

PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader x charles leclerc.

SUMMARY — It's the day after the race in Las Vegas and Max and Charles wake up with a huge headache, two rings in their fingers and no idea of what happened the night before.

GWEN'S MESSAGE. this was requested by @piastrification! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i had so much fun writing it! and i hope you like it. as always comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Max wakes up with an awful headache and very thirsty. He tries to adjust his vision to the sunlight but every time he tries to open his eyes, there’s a shooting pain in his temple. 

He groans, rolling around in bed. Next to him is Charles still sleeping on his belly, messy hair and something like confetti around him. 

Max can’t remember anything from last night. Well, he remembers going out with Charles, Lando, Daniel and Pierre and then a lot of shots and dancing and people shouting their names and then… nothing. 

“Fuck this.” He whispers and gets out of bed very slowly, feeling dizzy. 

He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a big glass of water before he passes out from dehydration. 

Max is filling a second glass when he sees it; a silver ring around his left ring finger. 

He does not wear rings. 

“Max?” Charles calls his name and Max walks back into the room with his heart hammering in his ears. 

“Did you give me this ring last night?” He asks even before Charles has time to properly wake up. 

“Uh?” The Monégasque says, sitting on the bed and looking confused at the hand Max has up in the air, showing him the piece of jewelry. “No?” Charles rubs his face with his left hand but stops halfway when he feels something on his ring finger. “What the fuck?” 

There is a silver ring, just like the one Max has, on his finger.

And that is not one of his rings because this has three little diamonds encrusted in it. 

“Max,” Charles breathes, a shiver running down his spine as he looks at his boyfriend. “What happened last night?

They look at each other with wide eyes, a million thoughts running through their heads. 

“I remember leaving the club with the boys and then everything goes black.” Charles gets out of bed to look for his phone because there must be something in there, but all he finds are five missed calls from Pierre and a lot, a lot, of messages from you on the group chat. 

“What’s wrong?” Max asks as he walks away to fill a glass of water for Charles. 

“Y/N is here,” He answers, showing him the phone and thanking him for the water with a kiss on the cheek. “She’s downstairs waiting for us with Lando.”

Max groans, falling back onto the bed. 

“I feel like we did something really stupid last night.”

“Shut up, we didn’t do anything.” Charles busies himself with looking for clothes in his suitcase, so he doesn’t have to think about last night. 

They should forget about last night. Last night didn’t happen. 

By the time they made it to the lobby, Max and Charles had agreed that they needed to talk to Lando before talking to you about the shit show that was last night. 

They may not know exactly what happened, but by the matching rings they know it’s nothing good.

However, they forget about it when they see you standing next to Lando wearing the most beautiful floral dress and your perfect smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Max says, taking off his sunglasses for a second to give you a peck on the lips. Then, he’s putting them back on. 

“How’s the hangover?” You tease them, feeling Charles' body tensing next to you. And you really want to laugh because you know exactly what happened thanks to Lando and a very detailed story. “What did you do last night?”

“Nothing,” Charles is quick to answer, looking at Lando and silently begging him to do something. But Lando just laughs. “Lando, can we talk for a second?”

“What do you need to talk to him about?” 

“Oh, just about something Dani asked us to do before he left last night.” Max lies and if it weren’t because you’re in a good mood and know why they are lying, you would feel angry. 

“Oh, but Dani’s right there.” You point behind his backs and they immediately turn around to find the Australian man talking on the phone. When he sees them, a big smile spreads over his face, giving thumbs up before going back to his conversation. 

“Now, why are you lying to me?” You bite your lip, trying to keep up with the show. “Did you do something I should know about?”

And then, they say at the same time:

“I swear we didn’t do anything, we went to sleep early!”

“We don’t remember what we did last night, okay?!”

Lando bursts out laughing, even bending down as he tries to breathe properly, which draws the attention of a few people around that slowly start to recognize them.

“Well, I guess I’m not needed here since you keep lying to my face.” You pretend to be hurt and it's not easy when all you want to do is laugh in their faces.

Max and Charles start talking over each other, trying to make you understand what is actually happening. 

“And then we woke up this morning with these!” Charles takes Max hand in his, showing their rings. “I swear to god we don’t know what happened.”

“We were so drunk.” Max looks at his feet, feeling embarrassed. He never drinks that much, but apparently last night was a special occasion. 

“Oh, but I know.”

They look at you, expectantly, surprised, confused, a mix of emotions on their faces. 

You take out your phone, looking for something before turning the device around so they are able to see the screen. 

“You got married.”

There on the screen is a picture of Max and Charles with an Elvis impersonator between them, holding his left hands up in the air showing their rings while Charles is holding up his phone with a picture of you, a drunken smile on both of their faces. 

You slide your finger to the left, and a video starts playing. 

You can hear Lando laughing while recording. “What are you doing?” He asks, walking closer to Charles who is looking down at the picture of you on his phone. 

“Baby, we got married!” He exclaims as Max wraps an arm around his waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “She doesn’t answer. Why isn’t she answering… Are you mad, baby?”

Dani appears on the video, laughing his ass off as he takes the phone away. 

“You’re not on facetime, you idiot. It's a picture.” Pierre says from somewhere next to Lando, probably.

“Say hi to Y/N!” 

“Hi baby!” Charles really likes to call you baby when he’s drunk. 

“We got married!” Max says a little too loud, but doesn’t care and kisses Charles cheek. “Look, we have your ring right here.” He shows a silver ring similar to the one they have, the difference is that the diamond in the middle is slightly bigger. “Congratulations!”

The video ends with all of them laughing. 

There’s a minute of silence before Charles speaks. 

“Okay, it wasn’t that bad.”

“What!?” Max looks mortified. 

“Well, everyone knows that weddings in Las Vegas aren’t actually weddings.” Everyone looks at him at a loss of words, but he just keeps going. “We aren’t actually married.”

“Charles,” Lando laughs a little more. He’s definitely having the time of his life. “weddings in Vegas are very real. You are married.”

“No we’re not!” 

Max sighs, placing a hand on his boyfriend — husband’s shoulder. “Charlie, we are.” 

Charles gaps, immediately looking at you. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t know!” 

You can’t help it anymore, so you laugh. 

“Oh my god, you should see your faces!”

Max and Charles look at each other, and then at you. They don’t have a clue about what is happening anymore. Not since last night. 

“You’re not… mad?” 

“Well,” You wipe the tears from your eyes, shoving your phone back in your purse. “I was at first, now i just find it hilarious.” 

“I’m so sorry, schat.” Max runs his hand through his hair, looking sheepishly at you with a pout on his pretty lips. 

“It is your fault!” Charles says out of nowhere, pointing a finger in Lando’s face. “Why didn’t you stop us?”

Lando raises his hands in surrender. “I tried!” 

“You should’ve tried harder!”

“Max promised to let me win if I let you get married!” 

“Max!” Charles says, offended. 

“I won’t do that.”

You shake your head, patting Max’s cheek lightly, condescendingly. “You will if you want me to forgive you.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff

[illyrianbitch]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Reader x Bat Boys

Summary: Even most powerful males in Prythian need relationship advice from their best friend.

Warnings: males bein males about females (but theyre well meaning), brief mentions of sexual encounters, crack & friendship fluff!!

Word Count: 3.3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

There was one thing about Cassian that you’d come to know over the centuries you’d been friends: the male could talk. 

He was on a new tangent now, describing the details of a strange dream he’d had a few days prior, casually laying across the couch with his feet propped up on the arm rests. How his wings weren’t uncomfortable being smushed underneath him and the couch cushions, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t about to ask and risk another hour long explanation of how nothing phases him because he's “just that male.” 

“And the princess next to him looked exactly like Az-”

You let out a groan, pushing yourself to sit upright from your current slouched position, staring at Cassian with a confused expression. “Cass,” you said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

He stopped mid sentence, turning to look at you with an open mouth and a blank stare. “My dream. Were you not listening?”

You gave him a look. “No.”

He frowned. “Well, that's rude. I listen to all of your dreams.”

“No, you don’t.” 

He stilled for a moment, holding your stare, and then a giant grin broke out on his face. “Ah, you got me. I don’t.” 

You let out a small snort before shaking your head and taking another deep breath. “Can we get back to why you needed to talk to me in the first place?”

Cassian’s face lit up in acknowledgement, and then he was readjusting himself to a proper sitting position, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. “Right, okay. I need your expertise on matters of the heart."

You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. “Okay…”

"Alright, so you know that female I’ve been with?"

You raised your eyebrows. “You have to be more specific than that.”

He stilled for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. Then he grinned, “The one who I said tasted like honey?”

You grimaced at his description. But Cass didn’t notice as he continued, “She’s super pretty. Real nice too, she gave you those little treats, remember?”

You thought back to the previous weeks, faintly remembering running into a female in the kitchen. You were still hungover from the night prior, so you didn’t remember much about the small conversation you’d held with her, but you did remember those treats— and the way she stared at Cassian longingly. 

“I remember,” you finally said. “What about her?”

“I like her. I think she’s really cool. So, I want to do something to impress her, maybe ask her out for real.”

You smiled at him, a small, gentle, upside down smile that formed a small pout as you said, “Aw, Cass, you softie.” 

The male in front of you grinned again, offering you a small shrug. “What can I say, I’m pussy-whipped.”

Your smile fell and you rolled your eyes. Well, that moment was nice while it lasted. You took a deep breath before leaning forward more, matching Cassian’s posture. 

"She really liked you, so I don’t think you can go wrong. Just do what feels right.” 

Cassian’s grin grew as he nodded his head in contemplation.  "Alright,” he said, “Hear me out. I'm thinking of making a grand gesture outside her apartment, something to really show her how I feel."

You nodded, intrigued. "Okay, go on."

"And get this," He leaned in closer, a childlike glee in his voice as he continued, "I'll do it butt-ass naked, with a ribbon tied around my—"

Your hand shot up in front of you, a single finger pointed to cut him off mid-sentence. A deep sigh escaped you as you brought the hand to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. 

"So, I stand corrected,” you said with a disappointed nod. “You can go wrong."

Cassian's expression faltered, confusion evident in his features as he frowned.  "What? You just told me—"

"Yeah, that was before you said that terrible idea," you interrupted, shaking your head in disbelief. "Don't do that. Do anything but that."

He sat up straighter, his lips slightly upturned now, a glint in his eyes. "Anything?"

You paused, remembering your earlier encouragement. Then you let out a deep sound of frustration.  "Dude, just get her some flowers."

"But that's so boring,” he whined, “Like, Rhys boring. I gotta go big or go home, you know?"

You let out a groan at the ceiling, letting yourself fall back into the couch with an exasperated flare of your hands. "At this rate, please go home. I'm begging you."

But then, just as Cassian was about to let himself fall back into the couch, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "I've got an idea,” he said, quickly jumping off the couch. 

He stopped midway, turning around to walk over to you in a few quick strides. He leaned down, managing to plant a quick kiss on your cheek before running away again. 

“Thanks, Y/n. Love you!”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was a quiet morning in the townhouse, gentle rays of sun shining through the opened kitchen window. You rubbed your tired eyes as you looked outside, waiting for the remnants of your sleep to disappear with the new day. Your hands held onto the small apple in your grasp, running your fingers along the fruit as you stared outside. With a small hum of contentment, you turned around to head back to your room. 

You bumped into a large mass as you turned around, a dark figure shrouded in shadows as it stood still before you. 

“Holy fuck!”

The apple fell from your hands as you jumped back, eyes blinking rapidly as Azriel’s presence registered before you, a small amused smile on his face. You let out a deep breath, hands flying to your heavily beating heart. You glared at him, your gaze quickly flickering down to your waist, where a small black mass floated around your apple— suspended in mid air as it was caught during its fall. 

You quickly snatched the apple back, watching as the shadows happily trailed back to Azriel, their black forms settling behind his back and above his shoulders. You brought your glare back to Azriel’s face.

He did this to you often, quieting the sound of hit footsteps with his shadows to make his entrances stealthy and unnoticed. It never got old to him, how often you’d get caught off guard and send a glare his way, usually accompanied by a string of curses he’d never heard put together. 

“Footsteps make noise for a reason, Az,” you grumbled, “So you don’t make your loved ones shit their pants.” 

His eyebrows raised slightly, and you didn’t miss the movement of a lone tendril moving towards you— you lightly swatted it away, redirecting it like a small, curious puppy. 

“I didn’t mean literally, you ass.” 

Azriel only grinned in response, a small laugh leaving his lips. “It just never gets old.” 

His hair was slightly tousled, messy across his forehead. He wore a simple black shirt and sweatpants, a casual, lazy look that he often adorned on quiet, slow, mornings like these— this version of Az, laid-back and comfortable, was one solely reserved for the townhouse, and only for you and your family. 

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes at him. “What do you want?”

Az frowned slightly. “Good Morning to you, too, I guess.” 

“It was a good morning, until you disrupted my peace. What do you want?”

Azriel’s face held a mischievous smile as he shrugged. “Why do you think I want something?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Because I know you. And you’re wearing your I need a favor face.” 

He scowled at this, letting out a small sound of offense. “That's not a real thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No,” he protested again, “I don’t have faces. This is just my face.”

“Az,” you groaned. “Get to the point please. What do you want?”

He let out a sigh of defeat before he shifted on his feet. “Fine, I need your he-”

You pointed an excited finger in his face. “Aha,” you said loudly, “I knew you needed something!”

Yet again, he scowled at this, lightly knocking your finger out of his face with his palm. He gave you a flat look. 

“Ow.”

“Can I speak now?”

You held your hands up in resignation, finally bringing the apple to your mouth as you took a small bite. 

“Pierla won’t leave me alone.”

You frowned at him, brows furrowing slightly. “Who?”

Somehow, Azriel’s face fell even flatter, and he stared at you with an unammused look. “Y/n,” he said, almost scolding you with an exasperated tone. 

“What?” you said. “I’m sorry I don’t keep track of every female you guys bed. My fault.”

He rolled his eyes, and you resisted the urge to either scoff in disbelief or mimic his movements. Sure, laid-back and comfortable Azriel was reserved for the townhouse and morning like this, but so was sassy Azriel and his impatience as well. You preferred the first— and only the second when it was directed at anyone but you.

“I slept with her like five days ago.”

“Okay,” you drawled, “And now she won’t leave you alone.”

He nodded, letting out a small sigh.

You stared at him, brows still furrowed, a frown now on your face that crinkled your nose. “Well that sucks.”

He stared at you again, the same flat and unamused look on his face. A flicker of irritation ran through his hazel eyes. “Y/n.”

You lifted your hands up in exasperation, the apple still held in one hand, adorned by the lone bite you’d been granted to take. “What?” you responded, “The hell am I supposed to do about that? That’s a pp.”

“A pp?”

You pursed your lips, preparing yourself to hold back a laugh. “A personal problem.”

He let out a sound of frustration. “Really?”

You let your mouth fall open in response. “Again, I reiterate, what am I supposed to do in this situation?”

“I don’t know!” His hands flew out in desperation as he shrugged, his shadows bouncing to the edges of his fingertips. “Help me, or something. Please.”

“Did you tell her you’re not interested?”

“Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you tell her you’re not interested?”

“Vocally? No. Physically? Yes.”

You scrunched your face in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

Azriel brought a finger to the bridge of his nose. You rolled your eyes, not waiting for him to respond as you added, “Why are you acting frustrated right now? You put yourself in this position, Az.”

For what felt like the millionth time in the conversation, Az scowled. “I’m well aware of the position I’m currently placed in, Y/n.”

You brought the apple to your mouth, taking advantage of the moment of silence to actually indulge in the sole reason you’d been in the kitchen in the first place. Taking a few seconds to chew, you mulled over the options at hand.

“Next time you’re with her, just stare.”

Azriel blinked. “What.”

“You have this stare you do when you zone out, it's creepy. And unnerving. It makes me want to apologize for things I’ve never done.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement, a slight smirk forming on his lips. You narrowed your eyes before letting your face fall, as you frowned at him, arms falling lax at your sides. “You do it on purpose, don’t you?”

His smirk grew. “Never,” he replied, but the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away. “But good idea, I’ll do that. Thanks, Y/n.” 

As he turned his back and began walking out, you quickly sent a vulgar gesture to his back, angrily sticking up your middle finger in mockery. 

“Saw that,” he sang over his shoulders. You casted your gaze down to a lone shadow that danced before you. 

“Snitch,” you whispered down to it, watching as it began sliding to Azriel’s retreating form.

His voice rang out from the hallway, “Heard that, too.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Velaris was extra lively this morning, and it made your day even better. 

You always found it so special that despite his duties as High Lord, Rhys never missed the tradition of getting breakfast with you every other Wednesday. You couldn’t quite remember when the tradition started, surely centuries ago when you both were younger, deciding that Wednesday’s needed a specific pick-me-up to get through the rest of the week. But the tradition formed, and it stayed for centuries. And, truly, you loved it. It always gave you a sense of comfort— a reminder that things may always change around you, but never when it came to the bond you shared with your boys, and with Rhysand especially.

But Rhys was quiet this morning, absentmindedly picking at the flakes of the croissant on his table. 

You let out a small laugh. “Okay, spill. What the hell happened to you?”

Rhys slowly angled his head to look up at you, face distorted in defeat. “Females,” he muttered. “That’s what happened.”

You frowned, placing the croissant back down on the plate before you. You dusted your hands of crumbs. “Usually you say that word with a lot more excitement.”

He raised his eyebrows in response, and you watched as he rolled his eyes slightly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

You lifted an eyebrow of your own. “What did you do?”

He brought his gaze back to you.  “I’ve been fucking around with the twins.”

You frowned in confusion. 

“...Nuala and Cerridwen?” You whispered, leaning closer to him, face scrunched. 

You let your mind wander for a moment, thinking about the two twins that Rhysand had welcomed into your home. You loved the sisters dearly, and even you can admit they were beautiful— a type of beauty you didn’t really know how to describe, but beautiful nonetheless. But they were more shadows than they were form, not tangible enough to….have sex with, you assumed. You blinked.

“W-What?” Rhysand said, eyes widening slightly. “No. The twins from Rita’s last weekend.”

“Oh,” you breathed out with a relieved smile. And then you thought back to the two females Rhys had left with, a grin forming on your face.” Oh,” you said, amused. You leaned forward bumped his shoulders with a gentle fist. “Nice.”

“Not nice,” he grumbled, letting his back fall against the metal back of the chair. He let out an exasperated sigh. Your gaze trailed to the streets next to you, catching the sight of a few passerbys taking in the scene of their defeated High Lord. You cleared your throat, leaning forward in your chair to place your elbows on the table. 

“Okay, I’m confused,” you said, “Why is this not a good thing? Seventeen year old Rhysand would be pissing in excitement right now.”

Rhys let out a small snicker at this, a small smirk on his face at the image. But then it quickly fell when he let out another grumble. 

“Rhys, people are looking at you and making fun of you.”

He sprung up at this, eyes quickly searching his surroundings. He made eye contact with a few citizens, sprouting a large, charming grin on his face as he lifted a hand in greeting. The groups hesitantly gave a wave back, opting for small smiles before they went on their way. 

Rhysand then looked at you once more, leaning forward to grab your hands in his. 

“I’m an honest male. I’m allowed to make mistakes, right?”

It was becoming suspicious now, and you narrowed your eyes at him with pursed lips.

“What did you do?”

He gave you a small, guilty smile, perfect teeth on display. 

“I bought them flowers, right? Just a sweet, classic, gesture to show them I was interested.”

You resisted the urge to laugh. It was, indeed, a sweet gesture, but Cassian’s words from earlier in the week rang in your mind, his joke about flowers being a boring move-- a boring Rhys move. You didn’t hide your amusement well enough, though, and Rhysand narrowed his eyes at you, tapping your hands lightly to draw your attention back.

“What?” he said.

You shook your head, giving him a small, inconspicuous smile. Then you offered him a shrug. “Nothing. Keep talking.” 

He kept his eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he gave up, letting out another dramatic-Rhysand sigh.  “But apparently, I gave each of the flowers to the wrong twin. And now they’re mad that I can’t tell them apart. I mean, they’re identical, Y/n. As amazing as I am, I’m no god.” 

You let out a small snort, staring at him with an amused smile. “You can literally read minds.”

He opened his mouth. And then closed it. 

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “That hadn’t occurred to me.”

You laughed, readjusting your hands so now it was yours that lay otop of his. You gave a gentle pat. “But that’s wrong. So you need to find a way to differentiate them, at least if you want to keep whatever it is you have going.”

“It’s fun,” he said, as a grin began to grow on his face. “One female is great, but sisters?” He let out a small whistle, “Whole other experience.” 

You grimaced. “Rhysand,” you scolded, “Don’t be such a male. I was going to offer to help you. I take it back.”

“No, no,” he said, looking at you with wide eyes. He then gave you a pout, “Please.”

You held his stare for a moment, watched as he titled his head and gave you an innocent, charming, boyish smile. 

“Fine,” you finally said, “But you owe me.”

Rhysand grinned, large and broad, as he sat back into his chair and picked up the small desert on his plate. “I always do,”  he said with a gleam in his eye, bringing the croissant to his mouth.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It took you a few days, four to be exact, before you were able to fulfill the promise you’d made to Rhysand. It was nighttime now as you finally returned to the townhouse for the day. From down the hall, you could see the dim faelight pouring out from Rhysand’s office, his door wide open. 

Once you reached the doorway, you perched yourself in it, leaning against it as you cleared your throat. 

“Leyra is slightly shorter and has two dimples. Kerala has shorter hair, one dimple, and a freckle on her chin.”

Rhysand looked up from his papers, sitting up right in his chair with a smile on his face. “Have I told you how amazing you are?” 

You gave him a grin. “Add it to the list.”

Rhys laughed, tilting his head as he took in a relaxed breath. “Thank you.”

You gave him a small nod of your head as you began walking out. But before you took a step to leave, you popped your head back into the view of the doorway, wrapping your hand around the edge of the frame. 

“Kerala also has a freckle on the inside of her right thigh. Kinda looks like a little heart.”

Rhysand’s face furrowed, and then his mouth fell open slightly. He narrowed his eyes.

“How do you know that?”

You grinned at him for the second time that night, giving the frame of the doorway a pat with your hands. Then you shrugged. “You never told me how you wanted me to help.” 

Before Rhys could register your words, you were walking away, your figure disappearing from his open door. 

When it finally hit, Rhys let out a small chuckle. Then, he shrugged to himself, returning to his work with an amused smile. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

bat boys tag list 🫶🏻: @willowpains @maevecrom @vansaddy

#azriel x reader #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #batboys x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader fluff #azriel x reader fluff #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x reader fluff #batboys x you #batboys x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #azriel fanfic #cassian fanfic #rhysand fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction

[wasawattpadkid]

OMG YOU’RE WRITING IS SO EFFING GOOD I can’t stop coming back to your page. Can you possibly do a poly ghost face x fem reader⚠️ prompt being something like “do you think they can hear us through the tent?” Friend group going camping. I think it would be a dangerous situation but exciting.

Thank you so much you're too sweet! I hope I did your request justice! 💕 Thanks for the ask!

Voices Carry

Summary: A camping trip can be stressful and painful. With Billy being the mule of the group his back ached. You and Stu were just the ones to help with that.

Pairing: Poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings: ⚠️smut 18+⚠️ explicit boyxboy, unsafe sex, slight degrading, slight praise, rough sex, tears, cum, p in v, oral (male receiving), after care, vulgar language, threesome, power dynamics

"I hate fucking bugs." Billy said as he swatted the gnats away from his face. "How do you get their little legs apart?" Stu laughed at his own joke earning silence from the kids around him. "Lighten up guys. This'll be fun, we're going to have s'mores tonight!" It seemed you and Sydney were the only ones happy about the camping trip. "Yeah, we'll sit around the campfire and tell scary stories. You're good at that, aren't you babe?" You looked at Billy and Stu letting them know you were talking about both of them. "Damn right I am." Stu threw his arm over your shoulder. You hadn't told your friends about dating the two boys, it was only official with Stu. However they all knew about your sleeping habits.

"This is exactly how Friday the 13th started. If this were a movie we'd be doomed." Randy exclaimed as he held Sydney's hand. "I'm the only single one here I'm already doomed." Tatum took a swig of her almost empty soda bottle. "James Dean back there is single. Ask him out." Randy pointed towards Billy who wore a plain t-shirt paired with distressed blue jeans. Tatum looked at the boy with something close to disbelief. Billy shot her a tight lipped smile with raised eyebrows as he shrugged his shoulders. "He's not exactly my type." Stu laughed pointing at your shared boyfriend. "Ooh burn!"

"Since when did you get picky about boys?" Randy asked earning a slap to the back of the head. "Ow you know that actually really hurt." Billy smiled looking at his boots as they crunched the greenery beneath them. "You deserved that one bud." Tatum nodded agreeing with you. Sydney checked her map making sure you were walking in the right direction. "Can we keep moving my back is killing me?" Billy complained looking at the lousy tour guide. "I'll take it from you buddy." Stu reached out touching his partner's shoulder. You and the group were walking ahead when you heard Stu yelp behind you. Everyone turned seeing Stu hold his hand in pain as Billy chuckled to himself. "He bit me!"

Eventually you and the gang found a decent place to set up camp. "Does anyone here know how to set up a tent?" Randy asked having no clue where to start. "Does anyone know how to set up a tent?" Stu mocked the boy earning a laugh from the girls. "No dipshit, we all just walked miles with tents on our back to use as fire wood. Of course we know how to set up a tent, we're actually men." Stu flexed his arm showing off the muscle. "Does your masculine overcompensation ever get embarrassing?" Tatum quipped making Stu's face drop. "Jokes on you I don't know what that means." He stuck out his tounge making her scoff.

"Think fast Stu." Billy called pitching his bag to Stu. "Who's sleeping where?" Tatum asked noticing the two unmade tents. "Y/n's crashing with us. So I guess that leaves you, Sydney, and twiddle dumb." Randy nodded used to Stu's obnoxious jokes. "Real cute Macher." Stu framed his face with his hands showing off his teeth. "I try!" You rolled your eyes heading over to Billy helping him with the tent. "Awful big hammer you've got there." You bumped his shoulder as your friends continued their bickering. Billy shook his head with a laugh. "You and him are just alike." He said referring to Stu.

"I'd like to think I'm a little hotter." You said sitting down on the ground. Billy raised up stretching his back. He used the back of his forearm to swipe the sweat from his forehead. You were caught up in watching him when a loud crash grabbed your attention. "Are you okay Randy?" His girlfriend asked as he lay beneath the crumpled tent. "I'm fine!" He called out as Stu hit the ground laughing. After about 30 minutes or so both tents were set up. You and Tatum could've helped but watching the boys argue over who could do what was better.

Sydney started on the fire as it began to get dark. "I'll get sticks for s'mores!" You jumped up going on a hunt for skewers. "Ew I'm not putting that in or around my food." Tatum said thinking her friends were crazy. "If you're worried about germs the fire kills almost any bacteria on your food." Billy pinched the bridge of his nose. "How do you think they did it back in the old days Tate?" Stu asked sitting next to the girl. "I don't know doofus I wasn't around back then." You came back handing each person their own stick. The night continued with everyone having a drink or two and eating s'mores. Billy chased Randy around with a stick on fire as Stu cheered him on and Sydney told him to stop.

"Is this thing safe to sleep in?" Tatum asked as she looked inside of the tent Randy put up. "Yes it's safe to sleep in." Randy said aggravated that his work was thought so little of. "It looks great." Sydney kissed his cheek making his sour mood fade. "Alright well we're going to get some sleep." Billy smacked the tops of his thighs as he stood up. "If the tent starts a-rockin don't come a-knockin." Stu stuck his tongue out at the teenagers causing everyone including you make a face. "Get your ass in the tent." You smacked his arm making him laugh. You and Billy laid down pillows and blankets trying to figure out how to make the sleeping arrangement comfortable.

"I call dibs on the middle." Stu threw himself down wincing once he realized you could still very much feel the earth underneath the tent. "In your fucking dreams, she always gets middle." Billy kicked his partner trying to get him to move. "It's not that big of a deal I can sleep anywhere." You shrugged making both boys huff out a laugh. "Yeah we know. You slept the whole way up here." That was true. Traveling long distances always made you drowsy. "That just means I'm not tired now." Billy immediately looked at Stu who was grinning up at you. You turned around grabbing your backpack off the ground. The bright red pack of cards revealed itself as you pulled them from the bag. "I brought uno!" You said happily as Stu groaned and Billy couldn't help but laugh.

"I win again. Are you colorblind or something?" Billy shuffled the cards like a dealer in Vegas. You carefully watched his hands as they played with the cards. "Take a picture it'll last longer." Billy smirked seeing you staring out of the corner of his eye. "Oh sorry." You fixed your posture out of embarrassment. "It's all good." Billy's voice was low trying to stay quiet but it made you want to scream. "Are we playing another round or what?" Billy's question made Stu throw his head back with a whine. "I rather cover myself in peanut butter and go running out there than play another game of this shit." Normally you'd snap at him for complaining but all you could do was look at him. His head was tilted back showing off his neck while his tank top let your eyes run down the obvious veins on his arms. "Is anybody else hot in here?" You pinched your shirt shaking the fabric hoping to cool yourself off.

Stu perked up as Billy put away the cards. "You could take of your clothes off." Billy looked at Stu letting him know not to be pushy. "What! I'm just trying to help my girlfriend." Stu put his hand over his heart trying to seem genuine. While the boys bickered you pulled your top off showing off your black sports bra. "I didn't think you'd actually do it." Stu bit his lip as he scanned the new skin on display. "Relax I'm just getting ready for bed." The way your head was running with wild thoughts you needed the sleep. You stripped off down to your underwear knowing how hot it gets sleeping in between Billy and Stu. "It's supposed to get down in the 40s tonight." Billy warned taking off his jeans and switching them to sweatpants.

"We'll keep you warm babe." Stu kissed your neck looking at Billy as if to say "shut the fuck up." Billy shook his head peeling the white shirt from his torso. The muscles in his back contracted as he rolled his shoulders. All day he had been tense. He wasn't sure if it was the constant social interaction or the 50 pound backpack he had to hike with. Stu left you sitting on the sleeping mat as he switched out of his clothes. "Billy come here." You waved him over seeing he was uncomfortable. He walked over to you not knowing what you wanted. "Sit down I'm going to see if I can help you." Stu scoffed as Billy sat with his back towards you. "He needs more help than you can give him."

Billy flipped off his friend as Stu continued to change. "Is it your shoulders or what?" Billy leaned his head over trying to stretch out his neck. "It's mostly my neck and my shoulders. They've been bothering me all damn day." You placed your hands on his shoulders slowly rubbing out the tension with your thumbs. Billy's eyes closed in hopes the dark would make the pain a little more bearable. Stu was left in nothing but his boxers as he watched his partners. "Is that helping at all?" You wanted to make sure you weren't hurting him. "Yeah." He moaned in pain. Both you and Stu immediately looked at each other knowing how that sounded. With a nod Stu asked you to do it again.

You repeated the pattern on his shoulder pressing down on a certain spot. Another groan left Billy's lips. Billy wasn't aware of the effect he was having on you and Stu. The short haired boy walked over sitting in front of his boyfriend. Billy opened one eye looking at Stu with suspicion. "What are you doing?" He didn't trust Stu when he had that sort of hellish gleam in his eyes. "Me? Oh nothing." Stu responded as you continued to massage Billy's shoulders. "I doubt that- ah!" He exclaimed his head lulling back in pain. You didn't know if it was wrong that his pain turned you on but you were glad you weren't the only one. You pressed a kiss to Billy's neck which brought a smile to his face.

Stu's movement however wasn't as innocent. His hand rubbed against the crotch of Billy's sweatpants making the boy between you two sigh. "We can't do this right now. They'll hear us." Billy said making no move to stop either of you. You had given up trying to suppress the hunger that had consumed you all day. Billy's breath was ragged as Stu continued to rub his growing erection. You smiled against Billy's skin before whispering next to his ear. "Are you telling me you can't be quiet?" Stu tugged at Billy's waistband signaling the boy to raise his hips. Once he did Stu tugged his pants down his legs and off to the side of the tent. "I can be quiet but I know you can't." Billy bit back as his eyes closed tight trying to figure out how he could gain some control. "Who said anything about me?" You whispered as Stu pulled Billy's cock from his uncomfortably tight briefs. "Fuck..." Billy groaned knowing he lost whatever game you two were playing.

You went back to kissing and biting Billy's neck as Stu began to slide his hand up and down the boy's cock. Stu looked at you with a sense of astonishment in his eyes. Billy was a control freak in and out of the bedroom. He was always on top barking orders unless you physically tied him down. So for this to be happening was like lighting in a bottle. Stu scooted down licking a stipe up the boy's shaft. Billy's abs contracted as his hips rolled upwards. You watched happily as Stu's tongue swirled around the tip of Billy cock smearing the bead of precum around his skin. A small gasp could be heard coming from the man under your touch.

His knuckles were white as they gripped the sheets beneath him. It took every ounce of strength not to throat fuck the man who continuously teased him. Stu sat up leaving Billy needy but he'd die before he begged. "Lay back." Stu said making you move out of the way. Billy's back hit the mat as he looked up at the both of you. That little red tint on his cheeks made him look insanely attractive. "Well are you two assholes going to do anything or do I need to get myself off?" The smirk on Billy's face somehow made his words endearing. Stu leaned over whispering instructions in your ear. With wide eyes you looked up at the man. "Go ahead."

You pulled off your underwear leaving them where they dropped. Billy quickly ridded himself off his underwear leaving himself completely naked in front of you and Stu. You walked over to the man on the ground straddling his hips. Your lips connected with his greedily. Billy grabbed his cock running the tip up and down your folds making you moan into his mouth. Without a warning he slipped the tip into your entrance. You sat up properly lining him up before slowly sinking down on his cock. Billy let out what could only be described as a growl through gritted teeth. You started to rock your hips back and forth letting your clit rub against his skin.

Stu walked over helping you out of your bra as you continued your movements. Leaning down he pressed a kiss to your lips before he got rid of his own underwear. Billy watched as you pumped Stu's cock with one hand, the other rested on Billy's abdomen keeping your balance. Your lips wrapped around the tip of Stu's cock, your tongue running flat against the slit. The warmth from your cunt and the sight in front of him almost made Billy cum. "I need you to move." Billy spoke, his voice deep and worn.

You pulled your mouth off of Stu's length with a pop. "What's the magic word?" You teased. "Fuck you." Billy spat appalled you thought that'd work on him. You squeezed around his cock making a slight whimper leave his lips. "Say please." Your eyes hardened waiting to hear the word come from him. "You're a fucking bitch." He sighed in defeat. "Please." His voice was shaky only making his plea hotter. "Good boy." You tapped his cheek making his nostrils flare in anger. His fingers dug into your thigh sure to leave bruises. You started to bounce as Stu shoved his cock back in your mouth. With a grip on your hair he paced himself. Moans were loud against the tent as your thighs started to burn.

"Just like that." Stu moaned as you hollowed out your cheeks. Tears began to well up in your eyes making the world around you blurry. You looked up at Stu seeing him smile down at you. "You're so beautiful with my cock in your mouth." He complimented as Billy thrusted his hips upward. You moaned around Stu not being able to suppress your volume. "Shh." Stu wiped the tear that fell from your eye. His head lulled back with a silent moan. Billy shook beneath you needing to cum. "Stu.. I- I need her to move." His voice cracked as his restraint faltered. "Give me a damn minute." Stu had a habit of getting cocky. In a normal setting Billy would've immediately put an end to it. He'd didn't tolerate what he considered "bitchy behavior."

Stu continued to use your mouth however he pleased. "Y/n baby..." Billy softly spoke making you pull away from Stu. "Fuck!" Stu whisper yelled at the loss of your lips. Billy grabbed your waist easily pulling you off of him. He kissed your lips before he stood up. "Get on your fucking knees." Billy spat at Stu more than upset. Stu being smarter than he looked dropped to his knees in front of his boyfriend. Billy grabbed the mans face roughly squishing the delicate skin beneath his fingers. "Open. Tongue out." Stu obeyed his tongue hanging out allowing Billy's cock to easily slid in. Your fingers found your clit quickly circling the bud.

Billy was always more aggressive with Stu knowing he could and loved to take it. Billy's thighs trembled as he got close. "Y-Y/n come here please..." The willing politeness made you even hotter than before. You crawled over next to Stu sitting back on your heels. Billy pulled out from Stu's mouth letting you know exactly what he was doing. You opened your mouth with your tongue out much like your boyfriend next to you. Billy pumped his cock till ropes of cum hit both you and Stu.

He milked his orgasm till there was nothing left. Quickly you swallowed what hit your tongue not thinking of the taste. Stu seemed to have a mouth full as he swallowed. "That would be way easier with a chaser." Stu joked wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. "Shut up." Billy said with a smile trying to clear the fog from his mind. Stu pressed his lips yours as he slowly pushed you back on the mat. Both of you had yet to finish and he was going to fix that.

His cock seemed to slam into you making your breath leave your body. He sat up holding your legs still. Stu's pace was quick and brutal making your moans come out in fractions. One of his hands fell between your legs playing with you clit. His thrusts never faltered as you slowly felt that familiar pressure build. Your face contorted in pleasure signaling you were close. Stu's free hand covered your mouth knowing how loud you could get. That band seemed to snap within you making chills cover your body. You cried out into his palm as he continued his thrusts. Once your orgasm had passed he pulled out finishing over your stomach.

Stu gasped for air not being able to breathe. He fell over on the mat trying to catch his breath. It'd be awhile since he had an orgasm so strong. Billy went into his backpack pulling out the wet wipes he had brought. The cloth was freezing against your warm skin. A small wince left your lips as he cleaned up the mess his partner made. "I know baby..." He whispered. Billy pitched the cloth to the corner of the tent telling himself he'd get it in the morning. Billy fell between you and Stu before pulling a blanket to cover you and him. "That was fucking awesome." Stu exclaimed finally getting ahold of the air he urgently needed. "You okay?" Billy asked you seeing the permanent smile plastered on your face. "I think we broke her Macher." He smiled glad everyone enjoyed themselves. Stu curled up next to Billy pulling the blanket over his lower half.

"Do you hear that?" You asked the boys listening to the soft sound of grunting. "Holy shit." Billy said as Stu giggled. "Here I was worried they could hear us." You said laughing. Your head rested on Billy's chest listening to his heartbeat. The three in the other tent went at it for another 5 minutes making you and your boyfriends laugh. Stu was the first to fall asleep, softly snoring into his pillow. "That was okay wasn't it?" Billy asked again. He could be really assertive and aggressive during sex but afterwards he'd make sure everyone was okay. You pressed a kiss to his cheek. "It was great. I'm just a little sore." Stu wasn't a careful person. He could be extremely rough but he never meant to be. You knew tomorrow he'd be carrying you around saying he was sorry for being so careless.

"Do you need anything before I fall asleep?" His voice became deep with sleep. "No I don't think so." He kissed the top of your head before getting comfortable. Within 10 minutes you were both fast asleep.

The morning sun was unforgiving. The tent did little to nothing when it came to shielding you from the light. "Morning sunshine!" Stu said looking down at your naked body. "Good morning pervert." He leaned down pressing a kiss to your lips. "Sydney made coffee if you want some." You looked to your left noticing the lack of Billy. Stu noticed your concern. "He's already up. Tatum and Randy are still sleeping." He laughed thinking of last night. You nodded letting Stu leave before you got dressed.

"Good morning." Sydney said both of you shared a moment of silent acknowledgment. "Morning." She handed you a cup of coffee which you thanked her for. Tatum erupted from the tent ready to fight anyone who said something. "Did you have a good night last night?" Stu asked making Billy look at the ground with a smile. "Suck a dick Stu. Oh wait, you did." Tatum said almost making you choke on your drink. Billy couldn't help but laugh with Sydney. "That wasn't even that funny." Stu said disappointed in his friends. Randy was the next to leave the tent earning a high five from Stu. "Randy my man!" You rolled your eyes sipping on your drink.

The day dragged on with everyone going swimming and later eating hot dogs. By the end of the day everyone was on good terms even laughing about the night previous. Sydney snapped some photos of the group making sure everyone had atleast one polaroid to take home. Billy looked down at the picture in his hand. Everyone was smiling and having fun. He hated to say it but he might just go camping again.

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