#i wanted to name him candelabra

[bettyfrommars]

Dr. Munson & The Monster

mad scientist!Eddie x The Monster x fem!Reader

Based on a sweet ask I got about how Reader's boyfriend cheats on us, and then we get revenge with his dad. I'm sure this was not what they had in mind 👀 my apologies. wc: 1.7k

18+Only, mature content, smut, cheating, mention of monster sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), creampie, breeding!kink, mention of being forced to live at the castle, mention of male impotence. Frankie and Reader are 25+, doctor!Eddie is 40+.

Things with you and your boyfriend Frankie were complicated.  When he first put you over his shoulder and carried you back to the castle, determined to be your mate, you wondered if it would work out.  But, you’d grown to love that zipper-neck lothario, and the enormous cock attached to him.  Munson’s Monster was famous by that time for being the first reanimated human, and he had so many women throwing their panties at him, it was intimidating for you at first.  

“Baby,  where are you going?” You called to him from the bed where you were in one of your sexiest nightgowns, draped perfectly to expose the curve of your hip that drove him bonkers.

“Out!” But he didn’t actually say it, he just grunted it, stomping off toward the balcony on stiff legs.  He liked to use the thick vines on the side of the building to climb down.

He flung the terrace doors wide open, and you watched him make his clumsy descent with a shake of your head.  “You’ll break your neck again one of these days, you know that baby? Just use the front door next time!”

He was too busy banking on his arm strength to hold his substantial weight to look up at you, but he did offer a growl and a grunt, and by the time he dropped to the ground in a crouch, there were tears glistening on your lash line.

The first few months together had been so rich with discovery and the promise of new  love. Frankie mated you from sunup to sundown, stretching you out and chasing his release with animalistic passion, the likes of which you’d never experienced before. After a few weeks, you were confessing your love; there was even talk of planning an October wedding.

But, the honeymoon phase was over, as they say, and word had made its way back to you that Frankie was getting in bed with every village woman within arms reach.  They all snickered and laughed behind your back when they saw you in town.

You watched him stumble into the night, and then you peeled yourself away from the balcony and wiped your eyes.  

You didn’t want to be alone again.  The only people who lived in the castle besides you and Frankie were Dr. Munson, his assistant Igor, and a housekeeper named Frau Blucher.  You put your silky robe on and brought a candelabra downstairs with you, following the golden glow of light coming from under the door of Dr. Munson’s library.

You knocked first, because he was a very private man, and you were paranoid that he hated you for whatever reason.  Maybe he didn’t think you were good enough for his creation?

“Enter,” a gruff voice bellowed from inside.

Edward Munson, brilliant surgeon and mad scientist, was hunched over his desk, fingers flying from inkwell to paper as he scribbled notes in his journal.  Long, dark curly hair wild around his shoulders, with a touch of gray at the sides, and fingertips stained black from the ink.

“What do you want?” He grumbled, never looking up from the paper.

He knew it was you.  He recognized the way your footsteps sounded on the floor above, the cadence of your knock, the way his heart jumped into his throat whenever you were near.

You shut the door behind you, pushing it until it clicked.  A cozy fire roared in the hearth, the air smelled of old books, pipe tobacco, and leather. You intertwined your fingers in front of you and went to take a seat by the fire.

Eddie finally glanced up, your silence making him curious.  That was when he saw your puffy face and the tears in your bloodshot eyes.  The horrible way his “son” treated you was no secret among the house, and sometimes his thoughts found their way to wondering how it would’ve worked out if he’d found you first, and not Frankie. 

With the pen still in his hand, he sat back in his seat.  “I’m sorry this keeps happening. You deserve much better than this.”

You snapped a look at him.  He was always so grumpy with you, this was the first time he’d ever offered you any semblance of comfort.

The nightgown under your robe was so tight to your skin that he could see the outline of your breasts and the way you weren’t wearing any undergarments.  He cast his eyes back down at his desk, ashamed for even allowing himself to dream.

Pausing in the middle of the room, on your way to the couch by the fire, you were struck with a sudden epiphany: Dr. Munson was attracted to you.  How had you never noticed it previously?   The way the light from the fire danced on his skin, making his dark eyes sparkle.

Driven by loneliness and a sudden, rabid burst of horny, you slinked over to the big oak desk, hitching your ample hip out to rest it at the edge.  The muscles in Eddie’s jaw flexed, eyes anchoring to yours, refusing to let them roam your body like they wanted to.

“What do you want from me?” His tone was tight, his cock twitching in his pants at how close you were.  “You should go back to your room.”

What you wanted was to get back at your neglectful, cheating boyfriend.  He got to have his fun several nights a week with whoever he wanted.  Why couldn’t you have the same?

You came around the desk to be closer, now your leg was touching his.  You let your hand graze up along your inner thigh over your nightgown, lips parted as you watched him from under hooded eyes.  “I want you to touch me, doctor.”

Dr. Munson hasn’t been with a woman intimately for years.  Mostly because he was a recluse who had no patience for the small talk required for getting to know someone, but also—he’d been harboring a secret crush on you since that first day Frankie brought you home.

His eyes flicked from the outline of your cunt to your face.  “Show me,” he told you, pushing the sleeves up on his shirt.

Eager to please him, you ran your hands up your thighs to shimmy the silky skirt up around your hips, giving him the perfect view of your kitten.  

Eddie’s mouth went dry at the sight, his brows knitting together.  He inched forward to brace one hand on your thigh while the other worked a finger along your slit, hissing at your wetness.  You yanked down the front of your nightgown to play with your nipples.

“Get on the desk,” he demanded, unbuttoning his shirt.

You had your knees bent, feet on his shoulders, quivering as his fingers spread you, his tongue seeking out the special nub that Frankie could never find.  The scientist that he was, he had studied a woman’s anatomy extensively, and wanted to use his gathered knowledge to please you.

“Your mouth feels so good, doctor,” you whimpered.   

He pulled away, chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your arousal, and then he worked a finger down, slipping in one, two, and then three.  You were all the way back on the desk now, knocking things over as you writhed, spilling the inkwell.  

He got to his feet, pushing his pants down to expose a generous pink length. You propped on your elbows to lick your lips and watch as he rubbed the tip along your slit with a groan, frowning in concentration.  

“Is this what you want?” He mumbled, pulling open your lips to watch how well you took his tip.

You sat up to meet his mouth, fingers clawing into his crazy hair as you forced his lips open with your tongue.  “I want you to give me a baby,” you begged. You found each other's eyes then, hovering on the implication of what was being asked. “Because we know Frankie can’t.”

It was true.  As much of a medical miracle and scientific treasure Frankie was, Dr. Munson suspected his sperm was no longer viable. Sometimes he blamed his skill as a surgeon for how Frankie had turned out, but he had to be gentle with himself—that brain Igor found for him was not the organ of an intellectual.  

Locking eyes with you, he sank all the way in, filling you to the base at first thrust, making you both cry out.  He cursed, bracing his hands on the desk for leverage to piston his hips against you.  You held his face between your hands and matched his need with your tongue.

His deft fingers moved from working your nipple to your clit, watching you unravel before his eyes.  It wasn’t until he felt your walls flutter around his cock and heard you whimper his name that he allowed his release.

He grunted, fingers digging into your soft hips. He hadn’t tended to himself in days, and so the potential for seeds to be planted deep in your womb was strong. 

 It took a while for him to finish pumping it all in, and then you stretched back on the huge desk, planting your feet, knees wide.  Maintaining eye contact with him, you used your fingers to push his cum deeper inside of you, tilting your hips up, holding it there, and then rubbing the excess up through your folds, before bringing them to your mouth to suck. 

He kissed your stomach and your breasts, up your throat, sticking his own fingers inside to keep any from leaking out.  “Stay like this until I say you can go,” he mumbled against your mouth.  “And when it starts to drip down your leg, I want you to remember who put it there.”

“Yes, doctor,” you whined, listening to the plop of the tiny ink droplets as they fell from the desk and collected in a puddle on the floor. 

#Eddie munson #eddie munson smut #older eddie munson #doctor eddie munson #frankensteins monster #the monster

[teenandbeyond]

could i request a part 3 of your yautja x reader series ! its such a good read ive been catching myself going back and rereading it all over again !

Yautja x Fem. Reader Pt.3

Decided to kill two birds with one stone for the last of the three shots.

I wanted to sate your thirst, dark fic readers since y'all been asking for a while (even though I'm not the best with this style, nor is it my usual type).

Edit: Low-key had to rewrite this before it turned into some 50 Shades of Grey shit...I got...invested (which says a lot considering I'm not deep into the Predator fandom.) Then I got sleepy, so I didn't double word check :) Edit 2: If y'all ever want to request the prince again, I can do it outside of the series...probably, it depends.

Want more from me? Masterlist 1 Masterlist 2

Part 1

Part 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Little Princess (Predator)

Warning(s): Smut content, breeding, jealous Yautja, squirting, size difference, long asf (Might be the longest I've done for Yautja?), fingering, noncon details, possible triggers, exhibition (being watched), whipped Yautja (couldn't help but add a pinch of fluff for the last one)

The prince Ta'yto seems to have taken quite the liking to you, you've become his little Princess to breed...

✨✨✨✨✨

You briskly walked through the halls of the palace, not wanting to be late.

Ta’yto didn’t appreciate when you were late, last time you were punished for it, forced to sit on his lap throughout an entire meeting, how embarrassing.

The thing was, this place was a labyrinth and with the language barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to ask for directions. You had to solely depend on your memory.

Peeking down one way, your gaze flicked over the long walkway, “Here? No there isn’t a candelabra there…”

Which only left the walk way to your left a few feet ahead, you stalked ahead.

Just as you made the turn, you bumped into a solid chest, the firmness making you collapse to the ground, all the jewelry you wore ringing in the hall.

“Owww…” you rub at your forehead, squinting your eyes and craning your head up to see who you bumped into.

It was a Yautja male, not the prince you belonged to, Ta’yto had longer hair and he was wider, this one was slim.

“Sorry—Um…You don’t speak English, right, that’s pointless, [Name],” you muttered to yourself.

You stumble to stand up and straighten yourself due to the slim fit and flowiness of your dress.

A few clicks was all you got in response.

You gave a polite smile, “I should get going—”

He titled your chin up with a finger, seeming to observe you, arm pausing in its movement as he took sight of your blooded symbol.

“Ah…I should get going…”

As you moved to leave he grabbed your arm, easily stopping you, he began to trail his other hand from your chin to your hip.

“Let me go. This isn’t a good idea—”

You were cut off by a growl that felt like it shook the palace.

The predator touching you turned around to kneel to who was in front of him, which meant one thing…

The prince was here to collect you.

His footsteps must have been light before, they were heavy like thunder now.

He stopped in front of him, gesturing for him to stand and when he did stand…

You actually realized how tall Ta’yto was compared to someone other than you, he was at least a whole head taller than the predator in front of him. Having to lean down to be face-to-face—since at the moment his mask-thingy was off (you didn’t know what it was called).

There were a few exchanges of clicks, before Ta’yto decided to toss him away at the wall that connected to the entry of the other hallway.

You had to blink a few times to process that he tossed a fully-grown predator—you assumed anyway—with ease.

Then his head slowly turned to you.

You raised your hands in surrender, “I didn’t—ah! Put me down!”

He had simply tossed you over his shoulder, resting his hand comfortably on your ass as he turned to leave to his quarters like he usually did.

You see, after the fifth time with you, he decided you would officially be his mate. You were his favorite, so you had the privilege of sharing his quarters with him. He--despite kidnapping you and everything-- gave you luxury you didn’t expect, elegant dresses and jewelry from distant planets—learning you regularly needed food and water, made sure you were provided with some, and anything else you could need.

The only things that irked him, was one, despite all these things you still fought—admittedly at times he enjoyed it—it was still no less irking. Then, the fact that you never used the power you had as his top mate to decline the young and impulsive predators who tried to sneak and use you for themselves, knowing that you were taken. He had marked you with his clan mark—damn it, his name for goodness sakes.

Ta’yto found it quite adorable when you muttered angrily in English, thinking he didn’t understand a single word. Sometimes you had a colorful array of names to call him, both in irritation and in pleasure.

“The throne room?” you wondered as you noticed the familiar doors close.

After the short trek up steps, he set you down, only long enough to plop into the sturdy throne and set you on his lap. He sighed, gripping your thigh through the dress.

“I…he didn’t do anything really…” you tried to assure.

At this point, you didn’t necessarily hate him anymore, but you didn’t like him much either.

It was kind of hard to when one minute you’re fighting to the death together only for you to get betrayed and get brutally handled by him.

But he did, he touched what didn’t belong to him.

All he had to say was that ‘She was so tempting. I’m sorry, Prince Ta’yto. I won’t do it again…’

Ta’yto spread his legs, yours following along, before you could even react his rough hand slid under your dress.

“What are you—” your breath hitched as his nails gently grazed against your inner thigh, so close to the warmth between them.

It had been a while since he hand his hand there, after the first time, he’d just preferred to get straight to it.

You whimpered as playful fingers trailed up, his finger moving over the bare, pink, flesh with calculated strokes.

You clenched your thighs to stop it, “Not—Not—”

He simply grunted and spread them open again with his free hand that had been on the armrest.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to contain the thin amount of dignity you still had, you wouldn’t let him win that easily.

Trying to ignore how much more sensitive your body had become each time he had his way with you.

But you couldn’t stop the drawn-out gasp that left your lips when he finally slid in two of his fingers, providing you with a little relief after the immediate tension he created inside you.

But what you hated, was that your body was excited, because you knew two wouldn’t be enough to prepare for him, he’d have to give you more.

You stiffened when the door opened, the advisor or whatever he was had walked in, but after taking in the situation, he gave a few clicks and turned to leave.

But Ta’yto’s voice stopped him, he said something you didn’t understand, which they nodded to before leaving.

You didn’t have time to wonder what that was about because then he was moving again.

Your brows scrunched as you tried to focus, his guard is lowered, you could possibly attack him. He may be stronger than you, but move quick enough, you could immobilize him.

Your eyes flicked over to the sharpened spike on one of the sides of his foot rest. Thinking of all possible scenarios for a few minutes. But you would have to bend and reach for it, that would be too much time.

“I—can you stop for a second…I…I’m too sensitive…” you attempted.

Not that it worked, of course.

Then the door opened again, it was the Predator from before in chains.

You could feel Ta’yto chuckle behind you, before speaking to the Predator in their language.

“You know. The thing about tempting things, they aren’t attainable to scum like you…The reason I brought you here, is to remind you what’s mine and that you can’t have her. You aren’t permitted to speak or leave until I tell you. Think about this the next time you decide to touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

He turned his attention back to you who had turned your head in embarrassment and closed your legs, even though the scum couldn’t see underneath the dress.

He spread your legs again, giving his hand access to move, “This is mine. Only I can touch it like this, you could only ever dream…”

He quickly switched from a tame pace to a rough rhythmic one, making you gasp and let your head fall into his chest.

“Didn’t you touch her here?” he gripped your chin that had been touched before, forcing you to look at the chained Predator, as he added another finger, “Well, I’m reclaiming it.”

This should’ve still been embarrassing to you, but it so, so, erotic, so…so strangely powerful all you could do was tighten around his fingers.

You gripped his arm tight, “Please, it’s too much, not—not yet—hah…”

You found your hips moving to meet his fingers, desperate for the soon coming release.

“And every other place your slimy hands touched her... She doesn’t smell like me as strongly anymore…that needs to change.”

Your nails dug into his bicep, not that he felt it much.

He likes that his research on female humans and what brings pleasure was put to good use with you.

Speaking of…should he try that new thing he learned about yesterday? Well, since he has an audience, he might as well give a show.

In the same motion he tore off your dress, your places were switched, your bare body sitting on the throne while he stood, towering over you, before kneeling down.

Which confused you, considering he was the royal one and you were not.

But you were totally clueless to the fact that this Yautja was so addicted he had no problem doing so at any time.

With another quick move, he gripped your legs and tugged you forward, it was so sudden, you had to grab the armrests to steady yourself.

“What…what are you..?”

His face was way too close to your nether regions, you could feel his breath, which made you twitch each time.

What was he going to—your eyes widened as you felt a wet muscle brush against you.

What was going on? Was he—? Where did he learn this?

You yelped as the few cautious licks of a forked tongue became ravenous, he gripped your thighs hard as his tongue teased you.

“Ohhhh,” you sighed out, biting your lip to keep quiet.

But that’s not what he wanted, so he slid in the hard muscle.

You gripped the armrests for your life, barely able to hold eye contact with him as he devoured you like a starved man. And the mandibles brushing against your skin made it worse.

You tossed your head back, a desperate moan leaping from your throat, the feeling too good, tears bubble up to your waterline, “Please don’t—Not that—Not there—Please!”

But he doesn’t pause, he just gets impossibly more aggressive.

He wants the tears to fall, that’s what always happens before you break. He wants you to break.

He adds his fingers into the equation again, the minute he does, you’re gripping his head like a lifeline.

The closer you get, the louder you get, which he likes. He likes when that composure you try so hard to keep disappears. Shatters before his very eyes. He keeps his eyes on you, wanting to see the moment when it happens.

And it does, but not in the way he was expecting, your chest hiccups as the tears finally fall and you shake your head, almost like you want to refuse the feeling, but you don’t, not really, he knows that.

“No, no, no, I can’t…no…”

And your hips jerk, you’re no longer able to control them and a water-like substance escapes from you. He quickly gets over the surprise and happily excepts it. This is new and you show no signs of being in pain, more than the usual anyway, so he succeeded, right?

Then your crying is of embarrassment, you hadn’t done that before.

But he doesn’t allow you to wallow in it for long.

Your breath is ragged as your legs shake, but you know he never shows mercy on you.

Definitely not today since he’s showing off how beautiful you are and how well you take him, that he’s got something no one but him can have. No one.

The second thing different about today, he rubs a thumb against your thigh, as if saying good job or good girl.

He doesn’t stay there too long, ready to cleanse his mate of the scum that dared touch her completely.

You whine as he finally sheds off his loincloth, you’re way too sensitive to take him now.

And he knows you’re sensitive. He knows you’re sensitive as he lifts you by your shaky legs to place you on his lap again as he sits on his throne. He knows you’re sensitive as he rubs you against his erection as you face away from him. He knows your sensitive as he moves one hand to the hip that was touched.

But he knows you can handle it, his little pet always handles it.

“Ahhm! Fuck!”

He growls as you suck him in, your body molded into the form his wanted. Now your body so greedily accepts him as compared to before. He fits so perfect, like your body conformed to his shape. You really are just for him.

“She fits me perfectly. So, you see—ngh—you could never satisfy her anyway, you peasant.”

You barely have time to settle before he’s pounding away.

“Sense—sensetiv—!”

Haven’t you learned by now that he doesn’t really care?

You’re just his little pet—

Well, Ta’yto supposed that wasn’t true anymore.

You were more than a pet—although you were still a pet, his little pet—

You were more than that…his true mate—no…his princess.

Maybe he should marry you.

Would that be strange? He might be looked at weirdly since it wasn’t a thing for his race.

But if he got to pound into this every day, this hot, tight, warm—

Anyway, you were the best mate he’s had…you were fit for royalty both figuratively and literally you fit him into you like he was meant to fill you whenever.

Speaking of filling, you’d look absolutely ravishing with a little bump, at this point he genuinely wanted it.

He’d have to do his best to be gentle no matter how arousing the sight would be. He wouldn’t be able to not fuck you, so at the very least he’d just be gentle and still be able to feel you around him like a vice as you held his child.

The thought of impregnating you gave him a whole new burst of energy.

His little princess having his little baby.

Maybe more than one, how many babies could a human have without dying?

He wanted that many.

“Too much—Too-too much! Please, I—I can’t” you sobbed turning your head into his side.

Little princess, don’t you know your tears only spur him on? He likes when you cry.

He grips the inside of your knee a little more, ramming into you. Wanting to unsure he fills you with strong seed, strong enough to give him children.

You spasm around him as you release again, the feeling so intense it’s hard to stay conscious as you settle.

But his pace barely slows, despite the tightness, and only speeds up again once you finish.

You beg, “Please…I'm done...I...”

Your head collapses onto his chest as darkness takes over you.

And he doesn’t stop, no, not until he spills every drop into you.

"The thing is princess, I decide when you're done."

And a month later he got what he wanted, a cute little bump, his little princess.

And oh, how he wished he could ravish you how he wanted…but he’d have to wait for that.

#yautja thirst #yautja x reader #yautja x human #yautja smut #yautja #the predator #yautja prince #predator x reader #predator smut #predator x human #predator #smut #predator dark fic #yautja dark fic #dark fantasies

[kalegreeneyes]

Feb 1 - Chocolate - 971 words - @wolfstarmicrofic

“I don’t think you understand how important this is,” Sirius stresses, hands fisting in his own hair and pulling at it in his frustration.

“Why does Moony’s birthday present matter so much this year?” James asks, flopping back on his bed in their dorm while he watches Sirius pace.

“Because it just does okay? It does,” Sirius groans, spinning in place to continue pacing in the opposite direction.

It matters so much to Sirius this year because he finally cast his patronus about a month ago and hasn’t told anyone about it. It matters because he’s finally realized why Moony is different to him than Prongs and Wormtail. When he holed himself up in the room of requirement and ran through his happiest memories until he managed to finally, finally land on one that worked, it just so happened to be the one of Remus's face when they told him about having become animagi for him. He had looked right at Sirius like he just knew it was his idea, and the look of sheer awe on his face had made Sirius feel more important than he ever had in his entire life. So, Sirius had focused on that look in his mind’s eye until the feeling it gave him filled his entire body and burst from the tip of his wand. Sirius had watched with amazement as what he initially thought was a dog, namely Padfoot, started running in the air around the room. Then, it got a bit closer, and Sirius’s heart had nearly given out when he realized that it wasn’t Padfoot at all. It was Moony.

Sirius’s entire world shifted on its axis in that moment. He knew there was something different; something that kept him up at night more frequently than not, something that had him staring at Remus whenever he got the chance–but he just hadn’t put it together. He hadn’t even considered that he could like other blokes until then, but as the light of the patronus faded and left Sirius cast in dim candlelight, it was glaringly obvious that not only could he, he did. So, naturally, he’s spent the entire past month panicking and trying desperately to figure out if there’s any chance at all that Remus could feel the same. It’s made things weird. Very weird. He’s come to the conclusion that he has to rip the bandaid off and show Remus his patronus, but he’s absolutely terrified that it might ruin their friendship. 

“I have something…special for him,” Sirius explains, keeping it vague, “but I’m worried that it might ruin his birthday. And everything else, so. I don’t know what to get him as a back-up present just in case the first thing goes horribly wrong, and it’s tomorrow, and I’m freaking the fuck out!”

“I’ve noticed,” James chuckles unhelpfully. “I don’t really know how to help if you won’t tell me what you’re giving him that might ruin his birthday? But, I mean, you could give it to him on another day?”

“NO! I can’t! It’s kind of a big deal, so it obviously has to be on his birthday!”

“Alright, well. I can’t help you there, but I do have a solid solution for his back-up present,” James smirks, holding up the invisibility cloak in one hand and the Marauders’ Map in the other.

*****

Remus follows Sirius through the doorway into the room of requirement long after everyone else has gone to bed on the night of his birthday, feeling a bit nervous and a lot confused. Sirius has been treating him strangely for the entire past month, and Remus hasn’t been able to get any sense of why. It isn’t like he can become an illegal animagus for him a second time. 

They walk into the center of the open space the room created for them, a few couches and flickering candelabras around the outside of the inner circle where Sirius stops to stand across from him. Sirius just stands there biting his lip and wringing his hands until Remus can’t take it anymore.

“Sirius, why did you bring me here?” he asks, frustration slipping into his tone. It’s been a hard month of not knowing what’s going on.

“I just- I wanted to give you your present, but it had to be in private,” Sirius starts. He swallows harshly, uncertainty apparent in his gaze. “Before I show you, I just want you to know that this doesn’t have to change anything.”

“Okay?” Remus says cautiously.

“Okay. Okay, here goes,” Sirius says on a deep breath, then holds his wand out and closes his eyes. After a few moments, the stunning blue light of a patronus pours out of his wand and fills the room. Remus blinks a few times to adjust, watching dumbfoundedly as the unmistakable form of a wolf sprints over his head. His heart starts hammering in his chest as he brings his gaze back down to Sirius, standing there across from him, looking small and scared.

“Is that–?” Remus asks. Sirius bites his lip and nods with a thick swallow. 

Remus is across the room in a split second, hands on either side of Sirius’s face to pull him into a kiss that was a long time coming. Time stands still for them both, and they’re breathless when they pull away.

“I never could have guessed,” Remus laughs against his mouth. “I thought your present was going to be something normal, like-”

“Chocolate?” Sirius asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and pulling out two full handfuls of chocolate frogs.

Remus laughs and laughs, taking them out of his hands. The next time they kiss, sprawled out on one of the couches five minutes later, Remus could swear that the taste of chocolate has never been sweeter.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar microfic

[forgwater]

Late Night Visit To The Kitchen

Happy Birthday to my dear friend, @ferns-island !

Hope you enjoy!~

Vil x Reader

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

The hall candelabras burned gently, comforting orange hues warming the stone walls. To the average visitor they’d be quite intimidating, but not to you.

Not when your dear boyfriend is the one ruling over the castle. Housewarden Vil Schoenheit. One of the most critical and exigent students of NRC. With a name that demands respect and adoration.

He holds a sharp cold gaze and as you peer from the kitchen doorway…

You bet you can see him scowling at the cookbook right in front of him. Truly a frightening figure.

His once pristine apron now covered in smudges of flour and cream and the wooden spoon in his hand looks all but ready to be thrown at the wall in what could be assumed as frustration.

“…maybe I should’ve just bought a cake….” you hear him mutter. And unfortunately, a chuckle escapes you. Barely audible… if the kitchen wasn’t almost empty. “I see you find my predicament quite funny, dear.” The blond acknowledges your presence.

“I’m sorry, Vil, but this is quite new!” you excuse. “I wasn’t expecting to find you fighting with a baking recipe this late at night.”

“…I wouldn’t be doing that if my schedule wouldn’t have been filled up at the very last minute. I had plans on mastering this recipe.” He tries to give you a small apologetic look.

“That’s alright! Your effort is very sweet. I appreciate it.” A smile graces his lips at your reassurance.

“You are the sweet one. And I assure you, I have made many plans for your birthday as well as contingency plans.” and you chuckle again.

“So, what is the recipe that’s giving you a hard time? Maybe I can help you?” you inquire.

“…I’m afraid it is a secret.” He responds solemnly, but the small smile playing on his lips betrays his playfulness.

“A secret you say… I believe I saw a few lemons on the counter.” you counter, pointing at the yellow fruits.

“Perhaps I just wanted to make some lemonade.”

“You really don’t want to admit it huh…”

“I will admit it when the result is perfect. Until then you’ll have to be patient.” You pout and Vil can’t help but laugh.

“Not fair.”

“I believe it is fair. Now, if you promise to wait patiently, I promise I will reward you with as many kisses as you want. Does that sound good to you, my dear?”

“Hmmmm… as many kisses as I want, are you sure?” you give the blond a mischievous smile.

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

“Good then!” you turn to leave “But you also have to promise you’ll eat the lemon cake with me!” and with that you dash out of the kitchen, leaving you stunned, yet happy boyfriend to return to his battle with the kitchen utensils.

#Happy Birthday! #vil schoenheit #twst vil #twst vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #gn reader

[autisticlancemcclain]

prev chapter

-- -- --

There is, honest to God, a coathanger butler and a duster French maid.

“Well, that confirms it,” Lance says, clapping his hands together. “I fell off my horse on the way here and I’ve gone insane.”

“I think you’re just smart, kiddo,” Shiro says, amused. “Perceptive.” He has yet to stop his tour, hopping along rather quickly as Lance follows. 

Lance opens his mouth to deny that particular claim – Lance is many things and smart is sure as shit not one of them – but there’s a bellowing shout that interrupts him before he can. 

“Ta-kashi!”

Shiro-the-candelabra startles, then goes pale, which is a hilarious thing to witness in a face of wax. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he curses. He makes an effort to hop behind a random sidetable placed against one of the farther walls of the massive corridor, but he’s not nearly fast enough. Rapid, angry clanking sounds precede the appearance of an ornately carved grandfather clock, the face – literally and figuratively, man this castle is fucking weird – twisted in a heavy scowl. 

“Takashi,” the clock hisses again. “What part of ‘united front' is hard for you to understand?”

Caught completely red-handed, Shiro straightens himself up and attempts to look dignified. “You were busy with Keith! What was I supposed to do, let this one wander around? I was –”

“You were supposed to wait for me, Takashi! Last time –”

It would probably be prudent for Lance to continue listening, as any information he learns is for the better. But as soon as Shiro says Keith’s name, Lance’s ears check out, the world in front of him goes blurry, and he starts to feel like he’s deep underwater. 

It hits him, all at once and intensely, that this is really happening. He is, sometime in the frighteningly near future, going to meet his future husband. His future husband who is known across the country to be one of the most vile men in temper ever to exist, who is impossible to love. His future husband who has money, money that Lance can send back to his family that can never manage to get food on the table for every mouth on every day of the week. The future husband who Lance cannot leave, unlike the people before him, because if he does then the family farm will sell and everyone will be homeless and it will lie on his shoulders. 

If he fails, his family will never look at him again, the shame will be so strong. The kids – they’ll be uprooted if they have to sell the farm and move away. He can’t do that to them. And yes, his family’s betrayal still aches like a gaping wound in his chest (they didn’t want to keep him Mamà didn’t want to keep him only three wanted to keep him and he doesn’t know who they sent him away the town sent him away his family sent him away everyone he’s ever known decided they were better off without him), but he doesn’t – he can’t let their saving grace slip between his fingers. If he fails then his greatest fears are confirmed – he is the failure that he’s always known he is.

But If he succeeds, he will be locked for life in an enchanted castle that feels as if it doubles as a tomb. 

Suddenly Lance is sick to his stomach. 

“–ance? Lance? You okay, kiddo?”

Lance shakes himself from his thoughts, eyes focusing on the concerned faces in front of him. He clears his throat, straightening his shoulders and plastering a smile on his face. 

He will not fail. He will not. It is the lesser of two evils, to succeed, so he must. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just remembered something, is all. I meant to look for something to feed my horse when I came in here, there’s no hay in the stable, but I forgot with all the –” he glances at the clock and candelabra, wondering how to phrase the clusterfuck that is now my life tripped me up, my bad delicately – “the… hubbub.”

Hubbub. 

Alrighty. That’s the word he’s going with. That’s fine. He’s totally cool with suddenly becoming a bitter senior citizen loudly complaining about the youths. All is well.

Despite his strangeness, the two people (??) in front of him visibly soften. 

“Sorry, dear,” the clock says. He clanks forward and extends one of his arms – shiny, carved gold decals of the sides of a grandfather clock – to shake. Lance does. “My name is Adam. I imagine you must be exhausted. Would you like to see your room?

That sounds excellent. Lance sags at the suggestion, shoulders slumping forward and sigh escaping his lungs without his position. His own room in the castle…what will that look like? He’s always shared a bed with someone, back home. And sometimes he is kicked and sometimes people snore and sometimes people squiggle around and hog blankets and talk in their sleep. Sometimes people even pick their toes, completely unconscious, and refuse to believe him when he complains about it in the morning. Such is the life of a large family in a small house. 

Lance will have a bed to his own, now. A room, even! It’s almost unfeasible. He’s expecting something huge; giant windows making up a whole wall at least to let the sun it, impossibly high ceilings, a bed as big as his house once was, with a canopy over the sides of it. As plush as goose down and soft as Kaltenecker’s – his favourite of their family’s cows – fur. Cream walls, maybe, prime for him to paint. 

Paint! He’s sure he’ll have paint here. The richest of colours, even, and paintbrushes he doesn’t have to make from kinky horse hair. And he’s sure he’ll have time, here, outside of whatever chores he’s expected to do, to ride Blue around the grounds. Maybe, for once in his life, he can enjoy his day outside of fleeting moments with the animals, or Veronica, or the twins. Maybe there will be more time outside of fleeting minutes when he watches the sun rise. Maybe he will have freedom here, to explore what he likes, and in luxury, no less. 

Wait. 

His brow furrows. Freedom…he won’t be free. He may be surrounded by more opulence than he ever expected to see in three lifetimes, but freedom is still a luxury he can’t afford.

“What about Ke –” he stumbles over the name – “the Prince?”

Shiro and Adam exchange the least subtle look Lance has ever seen on a human, let alone a grandfather clock and a candelabra. It would be funny if it weren’t so troubling. 

“What about him?” Shiro says carefully. 

Lance blinks at him. “Is his royal highness too busy to meet the guy he’s literally about to marry, or…?”

“We just figured you would prefer to settle yourself, first.” Adam says it quickly, practiced, obvious; confirming Lance’s suspicions. 

There is something afoot. 

“I’m pretty settled, actually. All good in the hood. Checked off most of the list, tick tick tick. I just need to meet Prince Temper-tantrum.”

Both royal attendants laugh nervously. 

“Ah, we’ll get there,” Shiro assures. He hops forward, pointing his candle to the hallway, indicating that Lance should follow him. “We have time, no? It’s late. Dinner will be ready soon. No need.”

He and Adam are very persistent, all but shoving Lance out of the front entrance and to a massive staircase. One of them must have sent the word of Lance’s arrival, because one of the branched-off hallways of the staircase – a wing? Is that what it’s called? Why must rich people label stupid things – is illuminated, clearing the path Lance is meant to take to his new room. The other is as dark as the rest of the castle, cold and isolating, reeking of angst and cowardice and a smidge of superiority, too, because reputation or not, what kind of jackass doesn’t at least introduce themselves to their future husband?

Suddenly, it all kind of boils over. Lance roots himself in the middle of some grand marble hallway and, ignoring Shiro and Adam’s frantic pleading, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts: “Hey, Prince of Darkness! Is it too beneath you to say hello to your future husband, you beastly man?”

His voice echoes throughout the castle, shout bouncing off the carved stone walls and getting louder, somehow. Lance stands, glaring at the dark hallway, fists clenched at his sides, fury still lighting up his veins. But then a minute passes, and another, without so much as a peep of movement, and rage starts to trickle out of his body in favour of something like regret. 

He has one job, here. He is to make nice and play the silent husband so he can get funds back to his family, and no one goes hungry. He is supposed to avoid Prince Keith at any and all possible moments, keeping his head down and living his life as separately and as well as he can given the circumstances. And Adam and Shiro were perfectly happy to let him do so, too, guiding him to his room before he even had to breathe in Prince Keith’s direction. 

Him and his big fucking mouth. Clearly, there is more than one person in this castle with a temper. 

He turns to the candle and the clock. “Sorry,” he mutters, averting his eyes. Hopefully they don’t call this whole thing off. He doesn’t think they will – from what Shiro implied, they seem kind of desperate – but still. He shouldn’t push his luck. 

When Shiro and Adam don’t respond, he looks up, expecting to find them disappointed, but instead finding them not looking at him at all. He frowns, taking in the way their faces have dropped, the way they’ve both gone pale. As pale as bloodless things can be, anyway. He follows their line of sight, shifting his body to face the farthest end of the dark corridor, and squints, trying to make out what they’re so white about. It takes him a moment to pick it out, but eventually he sees it, almost glowing in the darkness – a pair of large, yellow eyes. And…

Teeth?

Lance blinks. He rubs his eyes. He looks again. 

Where the mouth would be, under the eyes, are massive, fang-like teeth, glowing white in the dark shadows. They are not human. They are not even animal. Lance is not sure what they resemble, aside from monstrous. A chill runs down his spine. 

Slowly, silently, the way a wolf might stalk towards prey it knows it has trapped, the shrouded face comes closer, slinking in the shadows. Lance follows it, head tilting higher and higher as he begins to realise how tall this face sits on a still-invisible body; how large this…thing, animal or man, truly is. Closer and closer it steps, until Lance can hear its breaths, until Lance can feel the heat from its body from where it stands, in the last stretch of the shadows. 

Lance swallows. 

“Who are you?” he asks. His voice is surprisingly steady, although his hands tremble. 

Finally, the figure steps out into the light. Dark purple fur is all Lance can see; covering the figure in thick, uneven swaths; large brow drawn tight over his slitted yellow eyes, mouth twisted in a snarl, fangs pushing out from his lips, clawed hands clenched in fists, talons clinking on the floor as he steps closer. Ornate clothing covers his body, heavy red cloak draped over his shoulders, materials Lance can recognise as sturdy and well-dyed and rich. 

The figure bends low, close to Lance’s face. “I am as you say, dear future husband.”

“You’re a – an actual –” Lance stammers.

Prince Keith growls, low in his throat. 

“A beast.”

———

next chapter

#PART TWOOOOOOOO #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #galra keith #klance #pre klance #shiro #takashi shirogane #adam #adam w #adashi #established adashi #Beauty and the Beast AU #batb au #shiro & lance #adam & keith #lance angst #langst #keith angst #arranged marriage #alternate universe #autistic lance #my writing #longpost

[copias-girl]

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter II

Song recommendation for this series!

Chapter I, Chapter III

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

You hadn’t seen much of Copia in a few days, mostly because the Papas kept you busy and the Cardinal was also being kept occupied with work in his office. Sometimes at night, when you were laying awake in bed, you’d hear footsteps down the corridor outside your room. You wondered if it was him, finally trudging back to his quarters after working a long day on translations and black mass preparations and everything else that was in that big stack of paper he was carrying the other day.

The more you thought of it, the more you wanted to throw open the door and pull him inside your room so you could hold him all night long. That subtle need deep inside you burned brighter with each passing day, especially when you kept hearing so many people throughout the day make jokes about Copia, about how weird and awkward he was.

You had passed him in the halls a few times, and you couldn’t help the way your smouldering gaze would sweep over his form. There was just something about Copia that had you biting your lip every time you saw him, always looking good enough to eat in his cassock and biretta. He, on the other hand, had a hard time holding your gaze, his cheeks flushing and his mismatched eyes darting away from yours several times, shyly shooting down to the scandalously high slit in your habit. You always gave him a little smile; a warm one, a respectful one, one that showed the Cardinal that you weren’t laughing at him like everyone else was.

•𖤐•

You were just waiting for an excuse to visit him in his office; fuck, it actually kind of made you feel restless as you stood in the hallway, using a feather duster to clean the ornate candelabras that lined the walls.

Sisters of sin could often be seen doing daily tasks and chores around the abbey, and you were no exception. You all shared the workload, either being assigned certain chores each week or choosing which ones you wanted to partake in. Dusting was one of your personal favourites, so that you could daydream and hum to yourself while doing the mindless work. When there was no one around, sometimes you would pretend like you were in a 1950s musical, dancing and singing and twirling all around with your little feather duster.

It wasn’t long before Sister Imperator called your name, startling you out of your daze.

“Sister Imperator!” You greeted her with a smile.

“Oh, good, you’ve done a marvellous job with the dusting, Sister!” She grinned, gesturing to your work. “Why don’t you take a break for now? It’s shopping day and I was thinking you and some other sisters could head into town and get some things. We’re in desperate need of more black candles, and things like that. Here, I’ve made a list.” She explained, handing you a piece of paper.

“Sure thing!” You nodded, taking the paper and looking it over. It contained things that were needed for mass, like candles and incense, and also ingredients for certain rituals.

“Excellent!” Imperator clasped her hands together happily. “I’ve already told the others so I’ll have a ghoul bring the car around shortly. You can also all get some snacks and things that you’d like to eat, by the way.” She told you. “Oh, and why don’t you go get C from his office and take him with you? It would do him good to get out a little bit!” She added before turning and walking away.

A delighted smirk found its way onto your face as you quickly abandoned your dusting for now, heels clicking as you made your way there.

You stopped by your room to get a Mix Max cake before slinking down the corridor to his office.

You knocked on the ornate, dark wooden door, trying not to look too excited as you waited for the man to answer. You heard some rustling before the door was pulled open, Copia’s sweet face lighting up when he saw you. However, you weren’t exactly sure what it lit up with. Fear? Excitement? Nervousness? Perhaps a mix of everything?

“Hi Cardinal.” You greeted him, a lilt of flirtatiousness in your voice as you held up the little wrapped cake.

“O-oh, ciao, Sorella! Grazie.” He stuttered nervously, taking the cake from you with a shy smile creeping onto his face. You were the only one who was kind to him, you made him feel… special. And it did something to him inside, you did something to him inside. The mere sight of you made his head spin, gave him anxiety and butterflies in his stomach and rendered him a tongue-tied and stuttering fool. Well, Copia supposed that he was perhaps just naturally a tongue-tied and stuttering fool. But still, your essence nearly pained him, and the fact that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen yet you were the kindest to him… Well, it seemed almost paradoxical. The poor man didn’t suspect a thing about you finding him romantically interesting, however. He simply thought you were being nice out of pity.

“How are you settling in, Cardinal?” You asked softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. You swore his breath hitched in his throat at that, at the way you were standing just a bit too close than what would be considered appropriate.

“Ehh, I- Si, good, I… Well, si, thank you.” He finally settled on saying, but you felt like he was leaving something out. You could only guess that it was about the way he was being ruthlessly made fun of by the other siblings of sin.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Cardinal? You’re looking a little flushed.” You gently fawned over the man, placing the back of your hand on his forehead to feel for a fever.

“I…” Copia quietly started, but trailed off, not knowing what to say.

After a moment, you shook your head, murmuring something about your hands always being cold, and you cupped his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his forehead instead. You know, just to get a more accurate idea of his temperature.

Now you were sure you heard the Cardinal’s breath hitch at that, not only from your action but because from this angle, the only thing in his line of sight was your cleavage showing from the low cut neckline of your habit. But as quickly as it happened, it was over. You pulled away, trying to hide your delight at his deeply reddened cheeks and widened eyes.

You took the cake out of his gloved hands, unwrapping it and holding it up to his lips.

“Here, eat. I know you’ve been working a lot, right? Have you eaten?” You asked, watching as he took a bite, letting you feed him.

Copia shook his head no, sheepishly flicking his eyes down. He was nearly overwhelmed by the sight of your bare leg sticking out of the slit in your habit and how it was lightly brushing up against his cassock from how close to him you were standing.

Feeding him another bite, you placed your other hand on his shoulder once more, gently getting his attention.

“So, we’re going into town today because we need to get some supplies, and Sister Imperator said you should come. Do you want to?” You proposed.

“Mm,” Copia nodded, finishing the last of the cake. “Okie dokie, I will come..” He agreed, and sweet Satan, your heart melted right then and there. This adorable old man really just said okie dokie in complete seriousness and for some reason that drove you wild. It made you wet, it made lust pool deep within you, it made you want to devour him.

“Good.” You smiled simply, catching his mismatched gaze as you licked the residual chocolate off your fingers. He watched you intently, swallowing nervously as he awaited your next move.

“Well, I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes! Sister Imperator said she was having a ghoul bring the car around.” You chirped happily, the hand on his shoulder ghosting down his arm before you spun on your heel and left.

Copia was left flustered and slightly confused, wondering if all this really happened or if you were just a daydream.

•𖤐•

You met Sisters Mable, Ava, Lilith, and Emily on the grand front steps of the abbey, the ghoul already waiting in the sleek black 1949 Rolls-Royce.

“Wow, you look hot!” Sister Mable commented, looking you up and down as the other sisters agreed. Well, all of them except Emily. Recently, you had started wearing your dressier habit, the one with the low cut neckline and scandalously high slit. None of the other sisters ever wore theirs, usually just sticking to the standard one.

“What, this old thing? Why, I only wear it when I don’t care how I look~” You giggled, twirling a lock of your hair and making the other girls laugh.

The sisters got into the car, and that’s when Copia came shuffling out of the large doors, his gloved hands clasped meekly in front of himself as he made his way to the car.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me…” Mable grumbled.

“Who invited the weirdo?” Emily asked loudly, obviously striving to make Copia feel as unwelcome as possible.

“Sister Imperator suggested he come.” You retorted. “And, well, I think he should too.” You added, giving the poor man an encouraging little smile when his eyes met yours, clearly surprised by you sticking up for him to your friends.

“Well, looks like there’s no more room in the car anyway so he’ll have to stay home!” Lilith chimed in, a smug smile on her face as she gestured to the last spot in the backseat.

“No, because I’ll just-“ You gestured for Copia to get in the car, and when he did, you took a seat right on his lap and closed the door. “There.” You said, the finality in your voice shutting up the other girls, who only stared at you in surprise.

“Is this okay?” You asked the Cardinal, who quickly nodded and stammered out a shy affirmation, his arms naturally coming to wrap around your waist like a seatbelt.

And with that, you were all on your way; gazing out the window as the ghoul drove you into town.

But suddenly the car turned onto this one road and- Satan below, were they doing construction here or something? The road was so ridiculously bumpy, causing everyone in the car to bounce up and down rapidly.

You squirmed on Copia’s lap as you bounced, trying to keep your place and not slide off. Your one hand was tightly gripping the ceiling handle of the car while your other hand found purchase on the Cardinal’s thigh, which was surprisingly muscular.

However, that mental observation was immediately interrupted by something far more… intrusive.

Oh…. Oh. Your eyes widened in realization at what it was. The more you bounced and squirmed, the harder Copia’s cock got, so you could feel every inch of it fully pressing against you as it strained against the pants he wore under his cassock. And holy fuck, he was… big. You also became aware of the Cardinal’s strained breaths as he desperately fought to keep quiet, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly as his cheeks burned with shame.

He really did feel so fucking ashamed, like the biggest pervert on the face of the planet. But he just couldn’t help it, not when your perfect ass was pressed against him like this, practically grinding against him.

You shifted again from a particularly obnoxious bump in the road and suddenly his cock was pressed right into your pussy, causing you to yelp out loud from the shock of pleasure.

“Are you alright??” Ava asked you.

“Y-yeah just-! This road is so bumpy, I hit my head on the ceiling of the car.” You lied, even rubbing the top of your head to make it seem convincing.

“Yeah, this road is crazy!” Lilith laughed in disbelief.

You and Copia both stifled moans, releasing sighs of relief when the car finally pulled onto a normal fucking street.

After a few moments, you turned slightly sideways on the Cardinal’s lap, causing him to tense up and exhale shakily with each of your movements.

You were so close, the tips of your noses nearly brushing as you leaned in, cupping your hands around his ear.

“I think there’s something in your pocket that’s poking me.” You whispered, playing dumb, but your voice had a slight edge of knowingness to it. You pulled away just enough to gauge his reaction, and Copia only nodded, biting his lip.

“M-mi dispiace…” He murmured.

“Don’t be.” You replied quietly, biting your own lip to prevent a smirk from forming as you turned to face forward again.

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

Taglist: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh @rubyserpentine @ramblingoak @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @angelconservation @yourlocalghouleh @gh0sty6 @nikolaiology @thenick100 @mothsdraw

#my writing #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader smut #copia x reader smut #papa iv x reader smut #papa iv x reader #the band ghost fic #ghost band x reader #ghost band fic #ghost bc #ghost bc fic #ghost band #the band ghost #cardi с #papa emeritus iv x reader smut #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa iv

[writing-fanics]

| brightest star | Our!Ciel Phantomhive x Fem!Reader

| summary: y/n was told to follow the brightest star in the night sky, and now that very star was burning out with recent events, as secrets and lord are revealed |

She held a candelabra as she walked down a dark hallway toward the young master's chambers. She sensed his unease and decided to make warm milk with sugar to help him sleep. She opened, the door and found him sitting up in bed unable to sleep.

"I sensed your unease and made some warm milk and sugar." She said, and he looked up at her with a faint smile. As if glad she was the one to enter rather than Sebastian.

She handed him a warm milk and sugar drink. He tapped the empty space beside him and she sat on the other side of the bed. She took a sip from her mug, revealing a scar on her arm from the Campania. Despite being a demon, she never feasted on a soul and only ate human food. To fully heal, she needed rest.

He'd never been more scared in his life at that moment on the ship when she passed out in his arms as she bled out from the wound sustained from death scythe. He didn't want to lose another person he cared about.

“My mother, used to tell me to follow the brightest star in the sky.” She said smiling, as she looked down at the warm milk.

She chuckled softly as if reliving the moment. "My mother used to hold me and point to the brightest star in the night sky. She'd say, 'If I'm not here, follow that star and I'll be near.' " She took a sip of the warm milk, reminded of her mother.

She then turned towards him, “That stars name, Sirius.” She said, and he looked at her not saying a word.

“I even named my cat, Sirius,”

He couldn’t help but look at her and scoff, just as he named Sebastian after his dog. She named her cat after…

“He was the cutest little black cat ever, and had the most softest fur and cutest meows.” She said, looking at him.

“You sound just like, Sebastian.” He said, and she giggled, at what he said.

“Like father like daughter,” she said, raising the mug to her lips and taking another sip of warm milk.

Before pausing, she knew he had his reasons of keeping such a deep rooted lie. “I don’t blame you,” she said, looking down at the warm milk that was slowly starting to cool off. She rubbed the mug with her thumb before turning to look at him.

He looked at her and looked away, as if wanting to avoid the conversation. “I’ve also been lying,” She said, and he looked at her in shock.

“Pfft, who isn’t lying everyone lies that’s what people do.” He said, and she looked at him.

She finished her mug and placed it on the nightstand before turning to him. "People have their reasons, just as you had your own, and I have mine."

She then gives him a playful side eye, “Like Y/n isn’t my actual name.” She said, and he looked at her and she grinned.

He asked if y/n was her real name. She grinned and explained that it was her human name and she couldn't reveal her demon name because it was too terrifying. He gave her a deadpan stare, unamused.

She shook her head, smirking. "Don't give me that look, young master," she said before turning to face him. Leaning in, she whispered her true name - something she had never done before, and would only do for someone she trusts.

As the demonic whispers subsided, she pulled back and her eyes returned to the same color as her father. "No need to tell me your real name. You can tell me when you're ready, or never." She said, smiling and he looked at her and then looked away.

"But, I will say"

She smiled at him and said, "I've always liked the name Sirius. It's the brightest star in the night sky. It's always been there for me, and now it's my turn to be there for him," despite her panicked heart, she wanted to support him through the rough time.

She decided to give him some space and got out of bed, grabbing her mug from the nightstand. "I should go, I've already overstayed my welcome," she said.

She felt a grip on her wrist and turned to see him. "Stay," he said. She raised an eyebrow and replied, "Very well." She placed the mug on the nightstand, sat on the bed, and slipped under the covers.

As they stood facing each other, her cheeks started to flush, and they delicately interlocked their pinkies. "The name Earl Ciel Phantomhive is rightfully mine, and I am determined to take it back," he declared, with a resolute tone in his voice. She furrowed her brows a little, silently hoping that he would reveal his true identity. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but smile warmly at him and responded, "I have no doubt that you will succeed." As they settled into bed, the atmosphere was serene and tranquil.

He briefly looked at her with a smile, then took her hand and kissed it. "I want you to be by my side to help me achieve my goals," he said. She couldn't help blushing and her heart was racing.

"I'm here for you," she said as they intertwined their fingers. Using her powers, she waved her fingers to blow out the candles. They fell asleep with smiles on their faces, having found each other.

#ciel phantomhive x reader #Ciel Phantomhive x you #Ciel Phantomhive x y/n #Ciel Phantomhive Headcanon #Ciel Phantomhive fanfiction #ciel Phantomhive #black butler x you #black butler x reader #black butler Ciel #black butler x y/n #Sebastian michaelis #romance #x reader #fanfic #angst #headcanons #fluff #anime #black butler

[angelasscribbles]

My Lonely Valentine (The Agreement) A One-Shot

Series: The Agreement

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons, or should I say almost lemons? Lemon adjacent?

Word Count: 3,269

A/N: This is a prequel one-shot. Occurs before the events in the main series.

Submission for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts.

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley walked into the informal dining room of Balymore, her estate in Valtoria, to find the table draped with a red silk cloth, flames flickering from wrought iron candelabras, and gleaming silver cloches gracing the tabletop.

Her mouth fell open and she turned to her husband in name only in astonishment. “What is all this?”

“Oh…ah…” Drake stuttered over his words as his brain spun frantically trying to find the right thing to say that would make his romantic gesture less romantic and not awkward. “I…um…I know you were disappointed that Liam had to cancel your plans for today, so I just wanted to do something to cheer you up.”

Disappointed was an understatement. It was Valentine’s Day and Liam had cancelled their plans. She shouldn’t be surprised. She should be used to it. But it hurt. A good cry and a hot bath had helped, but after a long nap, she’d found herself ravenous. Her quest for food had led her downstairs where she’d followed her nose to find the source of the delicious aroma wafting up to her.

Confusion pinged through her as she took in his demeanor. “What about your plans? Didn’t you have a date?”

“Yeah, well, that fell through.”

“Oh, Drake, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was full of so much sympathy that he felt like an ass for lying.

“It wasn’t anything serious anyway.” The truth was, he had canceled the date when he’d realized Riley would be left home alone. He had only asked the girl out so that he wouldn’t be home when Liam arrived. Not out of jealousy, but fear of discovery. He was sure his best friend could read his love for his supposedly in-name-only wife all over his face.

It was getting harder to fight his feelings for her. The more Liam fucked up and neglected her, the harder it became.

He wasn’t jealous of Liam per se. He loved the guy, and he was fully aware of the myriad web of circumstances that had led to him having to marry for political alliances and not love.

Still.

The effect it had on Riley was the same and it hurt him to watch her suffer. He had agreed to marry her to keep her at court and near Liam. A marriage of convenience. A favor for his friends. An act of service for the two people he loved most in the world.

The problem was that the longer they lived together, the closer they became and the harder he fell. He had tried to fix it, put distance between them, but his stupid, traitorous heart wouldn’t let him move on. And he had tried.

The first year they were together had been so full of turmoil that he had just focused on getting her through it. Once they had moved to Valtoria and she had settled into her new position as Duchess, she had encouraged him to find a relationship of his own.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer just because I am.”

The full truth of the situation was that he had only half-heartedly dated so that she would stop worrying about him and his happiness. Because he would do anything for her. Even date other women. But his heart had never been in it.

Every relationship he had entered had ended before it really began. Two or three dates at most. Several of the women had dumped him citing with confusion that he seemed to actually love his wife.

Everyone on the planet could see that, apparently. Everyone but her.

Because she was too busy letting Liam break her heart over and over.

“Still. I’m sorry your date canceled. I know what that feels like.”

“I’m fine.” He brushed her concern off with a twinge of guilt but telling her that he had been the one to cancel would just open up questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Or more to the point, questions he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers to.

He would confess his feelings right then and there if he thought she returned them. But she was in love with Liam. He knew that.

“Stop worrying about my love life and come eat before it gets cold.”

She inhaled deeply as she stepped toward the table, “It smells so good! What is it?”

“Deep fried chicken and cheese stuffed avocado.” He told her as he pulled her chair out for her.

Her face lit up as she sat. “Really?”

“Yes,” he affirmed as he took his own seat. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“But…how? I gave the kitchen staff the night off!” Neither of them had planned to be home.

“Oh, ah…” a flush spread across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I made it.”

She pulled the cloche off the plate then turned her head to him in bewilderment, “You made this?”

He scoffed while shaking his head. “Don’t act so surprised. I can cook. You know this.”

“I mean yes but this is next level!” The avocados were browned to perfection and served with a beautifully roasted Mediterranean vegetable medley, garlic mashed potatoes, and piping hot Ciabatta bread.

He tried to lighten the mood. “I’m offended that you’re this impressed, Riley. I have mad kitchen skills.”

“I know. I just can’t believe that you did all this for me.” A single tear slid down her cheek.

He leaned forward in concern, wiping the tear away. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s that about?”

“Nothing,” she smiled at him through the wetness pooling in her eyes. “These are happy tears. I didn’t think this day could be salvaged, but you somehow managed it.”

“Yeah, well, what are husbands for?” He gave her a disarming smile as he sat back in his chair and turned his attention to his plate.

She laughed at their shared joke. He always said that when he did something nice for her. It was funny because he wasn’t really her husband.

But he kind of was, wasn’t he?

She dropped her eyes to her plate to cover her sudden flush. He was always doing sweet things like this. He was always there when she needed someone to talk to. Though she would never tell Max or Hana, Drake had become her best friend.

He had left his job as a member of the King’s Guard to move to Valtoria with her. He had been there for her when her grandmother passed away. The last time Liam had stood her up, Drake was ready with her favorite pizza and a movie she’d been wanting to see.

What are husbands for?

It was beginning to feel less and less like a joke because it had become the truth.

How true?

She suspected Drake’s feelings for her. How could she not? She had pushed him to date others. It wasn’t fair to let him waste his life taking care of her when she was in love with another man.

Yet here he was, on Valentine’s Day, taking care of her once again.

She stole a surreptitious glance at him as they ate. Maybe he had deeper feelings for her than she initially suspected.

No, she was imagining things. He was just being a good friend. Because that is what he was. Her friend. And Liam’s.

Liam.

Guilt swirled through her at the thought of her supposed boyfriend. Annoyance followed the guilt. He had stood her up. Again. Why should she feel guilty for anything? He married another woman for the love of God.

Not because he wanted to.

The guilt was back at the reminder of the impossible situation Liam had been placed in, but it was mingled with hurt, embarrassment, and a fair amount of anger.

She knew everyone thought she was an idiot for waiting around on scraps of the king’s time and affection. For uprooting her entire life to chase after him to Cordonia in the first place, for staying even after his rejection, and for continuing to believe that she was a priority to him.

Everyone but Drake.

He never judged her.

She lifted her eyes to his face as he regaled her with tales of Max’s misadventures from when he had tagged along on Drake’s latest fishing trip with Bastien.

“… And then he tripped over the side of the boat and fell in the water!” Drake shook with laughter at the memory.

Riley forced an obligatory smile, but she had missed most of the story, her mind occupied with an entirely new idea.

Her eyes focused on his mouth hoping he didn’t notice the flush on her face as her mind refused to stray away from imagining what his lips would feel like on her neck, on her mouth…other places….

She forced her eyes down to her plate and focused on eating her dinner. The dinner that her husband in allegedly name only had taken the time to prepare with his own two hands.

When the meal was over, she tried to clear the table, but he wouldn’t let her. “No, no, I’ve got this! I’m just going to clear the table and rinse the plates real quick. Why don’t you go pick something to watch? Whatever you want.”

“You sure? You did all this work. The least I can do is let you pick the movie.”

“Nah.” He waved her offer away. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

A multitude of emotions swirled through her as she watched him walk out of the room with the dishes. If you’re happy, I’m happy. He meant that. He was always saying things like that. He was always going out of his way to do little things to make her happy.

She made her way to the media room and flipped absently through the streaming selections as a million images of Drake fell through her mind. Drake, making her laugh when she was sad. Drake, holding her when she cried. Drake, always keeping himself between her and the reporters. Drake, scrambling eggs in their kitchen at two a.m. because they’d stayed up late watching stand-up comedy specials again.

When had he become such a huge part of her life? Yes, she had married him, but that had been on paper only, so she could stay near Liam.

And yet it was Drake who had attended her grandmother’s funeral with her. It was Drake who had taken care of her when she had the flu last year. And it was always Drake who picked up the pieces after Liam shattered her heart time and time again.

Why was she keeping him at arm’s length?

He showed up in the media room with her favorite blanket, a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and a small box tucked under his arms.

She accepted the cup and the blanket while trying to peer at the box. “What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” He teased, holding it out toward her but up out of her reach.

Her eyes widened as she glimpsed the label. “Are those dark chocolate truffles?”

“Maybe…”

“Drake!” She laughed as she deposited her cup on the end table and made a grab for the promised treat.

He lifted them easily out of her reach with a teasing smile. “What? Did you want these?”

“You know I do!” She tried to pout but the smile tugging her lips upward made that difficult to maintain.

“I don’t know….” He pretended to think deeply about it. “Maybe I should keep these for myself.”

With a joyful laugh, she launched herself off the couch, her fingers touching, but not completely grasping the elusive chocolates. The impact of her body colliding into his, combined with his misstep as he tried to dodge her, sent him toppling backward onto the couch where he landed in a slightly reclined position. Her momentum carried her forward so that she landed on top of him, laying on his chest, looking up into his face.

They were both laughing as their gazes met. A sudden silence descended on them as they stared into each other’s eyes. The smiles faded as lips parted and breath caught.

She moved first, bringing her lips to his. Her kiss was tentative. His response was not.

His arms went around her, the box of truffles dropped and forgotten on the floor. He pulled her tight against him as his tongue deftly took control of her mouth. One hand tangled in her hair as the other slipped under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back. A plaintive whimper escaped him as he pressed his rapidly growing hardness up into her.

Riley responded, melting into his embrace, no longer tentative. She pressed herself against him as their kisses became more passionate, almost frantic.

She broke the kiss to gasp for air. “Drake…should we—"

Drake froze for a moment, and then jolted upright, gently moving her off him. “Shit, Riley!” He raked a hand through his hair as he pushed himself back away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for? I kissed you!”

“It was just the heat of the moment.”

“Is that all it was?” She asked him softly.

“Yeah…” He responded unconvincingly.

“Are you sure it wasn’t more than that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…” her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt nervously. “You made this whole romantic dinner…”

“I wanted to cheer you up. Because we’re friends and—"

“You went out of your way to get me my favorite candy.”

“No, I didn’t. I just….” He closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh before pushing through with the lie. “I was already in the store, and I saw it…”

“You’re a bad liar.”

His eyes flew open, and he fixed her a look that was almost pleading. “What do you want from me, Riley?”

“I think the question is, what do you want from me, Drake?” She scooted closer to him taking in the way he watched her warily. Like a rabbit watching a coyote approach, his face full of fear, longing, and a guarded passion.

He swallowed thickly and tried for a normal tone of voice. “The movie…”

Her hand slid up his thigh to the bulge in his pants. “A movie? Is that really what you want right now?”

“Fuck…” he breathed out in defeat as a shudder ran through his body. He grabbed her wrist to stop her but instead of pushing her away as he had intended, he found himself pulling her into him as he leaned forward, and then they were kissing again.

Lips and hands explored bodies and pulled at clothing. His heart thundered in his chest as a small part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to put the brakes on this.

That part was overruled as she pulled her top off and dropped it on the floor next to them. He stopped breathing for a moment as he drank in her naked form. He yanked his own shirt off and dove back in.

Riley arched her back as she gave herself over to the sensations cascading through her body. Drake’s hands on her bare skin were calloused, rough. The friction was a sharp contrast to the smoothness of her bare flesh. It felt good, forbidden, delicious. She shivered as goosebumps erupted along her spine.

His hot lips on her throat sent ribbons of white-hot desire shooting through her and coiling in her center.

She cried out in protest when he withdrew that touch. “Why are you stopping?”

“I…we shouldn’t…”

“Don’t you want me?”

A self-deprecating laugh slipped out of him. “I want you so fucking bad….you have no idea….. but not like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re upset…vulnerable...”

“I was upset.” She drew his hand back to her body; he didn’t resist as she placed it so it was cupping a pert breast. “That’s not what I’m feeling right now.”

He was struggling mightily to keep his voice even as he gasped for breath. “…don’t want you to regret…”

“I won’t…”

“You’re in love with Liam…”

“I am…” She dropped her hand and pulled back a little. “We can stop if you want.”

“If I want?” His gaze searched hers, unsure exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes, you. I don’t want to stop.”

“But Liam—”

“I don’t want to think about Liam right now, Drake. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or what any of this means. But…” She moved away from him reluctantly. “I understand if you do.”

He instantly regretted the distance between them.

Before he could decide how to proceed, there was a knock at the door.

Drake’s eyes closed as frustration, relief and a smidge of anger pinged through him.

There was only one person it could be this late.

Talk about timing.

He quickly pulled his shirt back on and tossed her blouse to her. “I’ll go answer the door. You might want to fix your hair, it’s a little mussed.”

“Drake—”

“No, it’s okay,” he told her as he pulled her to him and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before pushing her gently away. “Go make yourself presentable. I’ll show Liam in.”

“Right.” She redressed and hurried over to the closest mirror to smooth her hair back into place.

Drake combed his fingers through his own hair on his way to the front door. Pulling it open, he greeted his best friend with, “Thought you couldn’t get away, Your Majesty?”

“Some last-minute things came up, but I finally managed to slip away.”

“It’s a little late. Valentine’s Day is pretty much over.”

Liam glanced at his watch as he stepped through the doorway. “Not really. Where is she? And why are you home? I thought you had a date.”

Drake shrugged. “She canceled on me. Sick pet or something.” He was only a little horrified at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. “Riley’s in the media room. We were just about to watch a movie.”

Liam started down the hall. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Are you coming?”

“No. I’m going to turn in early. You two have fun.”

He needed a shower. A cold one.

He sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He slammed his bedroom door behind him and then leaned back against it, gently banging his head into it several times before muttering to himself, “The fuck did I just do? Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

He shed his clothes as he walked across to the room and into the ensuite. He needed relief.

The water pounded down on him as he wrapped his hand around himself. His head tipped back and his eyes fell closed as he remembered her half-naked form in front of him, the feel of her skin under his fingers, the taste of her lips…..

He groaned out loud as streams of milky whiteness pulsed out of him and splashed onto the tile. He placed both hands on the wall and leaned forward, letting the water run over the back of his head as he watched the detritus of his desire swirl down the drain.

It wasn’t the first time that his ardor for her had landed him in this position, but he knew it was different this time.

They had crossed a line tonight. A line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Even though they hadn’t done the deed, the genie was out of the bottle-- his feelings for her, their obvious sexual attraction to each other, all of it.

He just had no idea what to do about any of it.

#the royal romance #trr #trr fanfic #drake walker #riley brooks #drake x mc #angelasscribbles #the royal romance fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices stories you play #choicesholidays #valentinesday2024

[lumierexfics]

Hii! I love how you write you are so good at it! Could I pretty please get some fan fic, for alt Gabe and real Gabe! Fighting over the same s/o?? If you don't want to write this that's 1000 percent ok! I hope u have a good day!

Ad astra per aspera

Alternative Gabriel x Reader x Real! Gabriel

a/n : thank you!! I’m glad you like my writing!! <3

CW : Description of injuries!

-> ao3 link

The thundering noise of crashing by your home, immediately woke you up from your slumber. Leaving the warmth comfort of your bed, lighting a candle and covering it with your hand to protect it from the cold air of the midnight.

You head toward the barn and hear sounds of crunching and unusual shrieks of something that you’ve never heard before. Looking up at the roof of the barn was the unusual size hole, seeing the sparking stars from the hole. You smelled something strange, it wasn’t the wax from the candle. It was the smell of blood.

It wasn’t an animal but an injured man whose back was torn to ribbons, from the candlelight was his back just covered in the golden blood. But it felt like something was burning holes in the back of your head, something else was inside your barn. Another animal, you thought.

You decided it was best to try and hurry to reach back home to try and help the wounded man.

It had been a couple of days since you had nursed the wounded man to health. He tried to help during his recovery, desperately trying to loosen the load of you caring for him at least he’d given you his name, Gabriel. You didn’t mind since it had been a long while since someone visited you in your small house.

Another strange event happened as it seemed that your sheep had somehow escaped from their flock shed.

You noticed one of the sheep standing still underneath a nearby tree. The night sky was an abyssal black, no stars remained since the night sky swallowed them whole.

The moonlight shimmered on the field, you walked through the field while you tried to lure the lone sheep back to the herd. But the sheep didn’t move, it just stood there and ate in the same spot, you tightly held the candelabra ignoring the melting wax that dribbled down the metal swirls from the intricate design. Yellow flickering hue of the candle seemed to be the only spot where light existed.

The tree whistled from the sudden air. You smiled, noticing the figure standing underneath the tree. It’s Gabriel, you thought which eased your worries. Gabriel pulled out an apple and outstretched his hand for you to grab. You got closer to him to accept the apple but stopped when the moonlight highlighted the features etched into his face. A smile that stretched out and empty eyes that stared at you similarly to an animal that awaited its next meal.

“Is there something wrong, dear shepherd?” Gabriel asked.

The sensation of the cold air seemingly trying to push you away from him but his tight gaze on you remained. Rendering you unable to move from his empty eyes. Your lungs tightened and Gabriel came closer, hot wax from the candlelight dribbled onto your shaking hand. The only light source was blown out, moonlight still etched his features. His cold hand planted itself onto your cheek, the empty eyes seemingly tried to mimic the emotion of caring.

Your head craned to the field where the moonlight highlighted the dismembered hand of Gabriel, still twitching. He let out a monstrous cry as the familiar pull from the real Gabriel led you away from the scene that unraveled. You turned to look back at the sight where Gabriel, whose face remained with a smile, stood still along with the still obedient sheep, the bones and flesh melded together to create a new hand.

“Dear shepherd,” he stated, far away yet it was so clear. “I will find you.”

#the mandela catalogue x reader #tmc x reader #alt gabriel x reader #alternative gabriel x reader #sus gabriel x reader #real gabriel x reader #archangel gabriel x reader

[bonezone44]

Soooooo how’s Uncle Ezra doing? Good? Is he busy? You know what? I bet his lap is cold. I better go sit on it, warm his lap up for him. 👀

Lol he’s on my mind 😏

LOL omg i love you. 🙏

He's not busy right now. He's watching a Law & Order marathon. 😂

tags: fingering, staying distracted

word count: 686

+++++++

"You wanna come warm my lap up, baby?" Ezra asks with his arm out wide--his middle fingers flicking inward and calling for you to approach.

You step around the coffee table in your thick, fuzzy slippers and settle yourself between his spread thighs. His body is warm against your back and you rest your head on his shoulder.

His broad hands slide up and down your bare arms. "These wintry temperatures are too harsh for your exposed skin, angel," he says into your ear with his breath burning hot down your neck. He takes the blanket from his shoulders and wraps it around your body as well, protecting you both from the cold damp air of the basement. His hands find your waist and you can feel his hardness pressing into your lower back, almost against your ass.

You feel yourself immediately get wet.

"There," he says. "How's that?"

"That's good," you smile and nod.

He squeezes into your flesh, hands following along the shape of your figure through your pajamas. He nods toward the TV screen. "That Jerry Orbach is a masterful actor," he says as one hand slips beneath your waistband and underwear. He cups your sex. "Did you know he was the voice of the candelabra in 1991's Beauty and the Beast?"

"No," you sigh and grip his knees.

"Mhmm." Ezra continues. "And here he is performing a no-nonsense New York detective." He huffs. "They call that 'versatility,'" he says as he slips his fingers into your wet folds. He makes no comment about your gasp. Merely slides his fingers up and around your throbbing clit. "Now Benjamin Bratt's portfolio does not express the same range as Jerry Orbach's own, but that is possibly due to type-casting or perhaps lack of opportunities considering Hollywood's well-known prejudice against actors of color."

You're half-listening to Ezra, half-watching the Law & Order interrogation scene, and half-lost in Ezra's fingers smoothly working you over. Your fingers dig into his knees through the thin cotton of his sweatpants.

"Oh hey! Look at that!" he says as he strokes your clit faster. "That's that woman from Alias--what's her name?"

"J-Jennifer G-garner," you say through panting breaths.

"That's right!" Ezra's laughter shakes your whole body. "Jennifer Garner."

You whimper.

"Wasn't she just in a movie, too?" he asks, smiling against your cheek as he dips two fingers inside of you.

You moan and roll your hips against Ezra's clothed cock. "Y-yeah," you sigh.

"What was the name of it?" he asks. "Uncle Ezra might wanna take you to the show later." He begins to curl his fingers inside of you.

Your body twitches and your breaths stutter. "Umm... Uh...." You want to come but you also don't want him to stop. "It's... It's called..." You whimper.

"It's called what?" Ezra turns his head to get a better view of your terse expression. He's all grins. He grabs your breast over your t-shirt and squeezes it in his hand. His finger gropes for your protruding nipple--pinching it once found.

"Th-th-thirteen Going on Thu-hurty," you manage to say, eyes flicking between his and the TV screen. There's a Tide commercial on now. You remember the large laundry basket up in your bedroom. It's full of clean clothes. You need to fold them and put them away already. You want Ezra's cock in your mouth.

"Thirteen Going on Thirty, huh?" he says. He presses his palm against your clit as he fingers you. Your body is writhing and his fingers curl faster inside of you.

The orgasm hits as a surprise--going white behind your eyes and you moan so loud that Ezra's hand shoots up from under the blanket to cover your mouth.

He shushes you softly. "I've got you." His hand between your legs offers a few slow strokes to your overstimulated clit. "I've got you." Your body trembles in heated waves. He wraps both arms around you and his mouth finds yours for a rough kiss of his lips and tongue.

"My special baby," he says after pulling back. "Uncle Ezra's favorite little niece." He kisses you again with only his lips.

+++++++++++++++++++++

#my writing #ezra prospect x reader #uncle!ezra

[misc-obeyme]

For your Flufftober event, could I possibly request Asmo with the prompt, “planning a special date night for MC”? 😍

Hi Jes!! I hope you're having a lovely day! <3

Okay, I loved this prompt, it's so Asmo. I just feel like he'd go all out! I really enjoyed writing this one as I'm really quite fond of Asmo.

Thank you for submitting a prompt!!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Asmodeus

Warnings: none!

The moment he was able to secure plans with you for a date night, Asmodeus got to work. He knew exactly what to do and he was careful to make sure you had no idea what he was up to.

The truth was that Asmo had been looking forward to this date for a long time. The idea came to him when he was watching you in the garden, smiling happily with everyone. It was always dark in the Devildom, but you were like a little light, attracting every single demon right to you. There was something bright and warm that emanated from you. Maybe the others didn't realize, but Asmo could see that it was your love, your shining human heart.

And whenever you turned your eyes on him, when you said his name or smiled his way, it made him feel like he was the center of the universe. It was a feeling he was constantly chasing in his long life, but he found it so easily with you.

So when you looked over at him, out in the garden that night, Asmo was overwhelmed by his feelings for you. He knew in that moment that he wanted to try to give you just a fraction of that feeling that you always gave him. He wanted you to feel like the sun in his solar system - every part of him revolving around you.

For days, Asmo was going from place to place, gathering everything he would need for your perfect night. Then he just needed to keep you out of the garden while he set everything up. Fortunately, Asmo was able to convince Belphie to fall asleep on your lap for a bit, so that if you left your spot on the couch, Belphie could report back.

Asmo had purchased a new outfit, a well tailored black and pink suit with just enough sparkle to add a bit of flourish. He had just finished getting himself ready when Belphie poked his head into Asmo's room, letting him know that you had left the couch. Likely you were preparing to meet Asmo by the front door, as the two of you had planned.

Asmo hurried down the stairs and waited by the door. He was surprised to find he was actually a little nervous, the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He smiled. How unusual it was for someone to make him feel that way. But of course, there was something special about you.

Even though Asmo hadn't told you the kind of outfit to wear, you had clearly assumed you would be on a fancy date. You came down the stairs looking absolutely stunning and for a moment, Asmo forgot all his grand plans. For a moment, he was mesmerized by your light, shining so brilliantly, filling him with warmth.

You reached him, meeting his eyes and smiling. "You look so handsome tonight, Asmo."

Asmo shook his head a little. "You're the one who's practically glowing right now, MC!"

You laughed, a sound just as sparkling as you were. "Where are we going tonight?"

Asmo put his arm out for you to take. You put your own through it and he pulled you closer to him, just to feel you against him.

He didn't answer your question, but opened the door for you, leading you out into the House of Lamentation's garden. The moment you entered it, you let out a little gasp.

In the middle of the garden was a table, covered in tasteful decor in the form of a tablecloth and centerpiece, with a lovely array of delicious looking dishes and an unopened bottle of Demonus.

And all around it, radiating out from it on multiple different surfaces, were what looked to be hundreds of candles. Some of them were on little pedestals, others nestled in tall candelabras, still others held in the hands of beautiful statues. More could be found tucked inside little lanterns that hung from the trees. The whole space was illuminated with the warm glow of the candlelight.

"Don't worry," Asmo said. "I had Solomon fireproof everything. It looks so different, doesn't it?"

You turned to look at him, your eyes wide. "This is amazing."

Asmo felt the blush that crept up in his cheeks, but he didn't let it derail him. He took both of your hands in his. "MC, you always make me feel like I'm the most important demon in the world. I wanted you to experience that feeling, too, even if it's only for tonight."

Asmo watched as you blushed, too. Your expression changed rapidly, as though you were feeling several different emotions and you couldn't quite figure out which one to display. In the end, you settled for a bright smile that nearly made his heart burst.

"Asmodeus, don't you know that you always make me feel that way, too?" you said softly.

You had the sweetest look in your eyes as you said this and Asmo couldn't hold back. He stepped closer, putting a hand on your waist, and kissed you. And as long as your lips were pressed against his, you might as well have been the only two beings in existence.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me flufftober #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmodeus x mc #obey me asmo #om asmodeus #asmodeus obey me #om asmo #misc flufftober 2023 #misc writes

[xiaosonlybeloved]

~how would they propose to you~

featuring- Childe, Ayato warnings- use of the name 'dearest', fluff , a kiss in Ayato's (giving yall a break before i write the TRUE angst ;P) a/n- yes yes I am writing the zhongli angst but gimme some time for that, ill be posting that uh in march end sometime.

masterlist

CHILDE

-the type to book an entire high-end restaurant -he spares no expense on the atmosphere of the date where he's gonna propose -the dim yellow lighting, tablecloths, candelabras, every possible type of dish you'd love, all your favorite desserts, everything (u can tell i love those kinda dates) -by the time you arrive at the restaurant, Childe is already waiting there for you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. To say he looks gorgeous in his expensive suit is a freaking understatement. -he'd charmingly give you the bouquet, before proposing old style, the way royals did it and all- he'd go down on one knee, take out a small box from his front pocket which contains the most beautiful and elegent ring you could ever hope to receive from anyone -he want to make sure he isnt outshone by anyone else in your life -he wouldn't go into a long speech or smth, but he would clearly express the utter love and adoration he held for you before asking you to marry him, hope and uncertainty evident in his gaze. This man has a way with words I tell you -how the hell could you not accept -after that he's the happiest man alive as you two share your first dinner as an engaged couple

AYATO

-you know how pretty Chinju forest is at night, right? with all the glowing plants and stuff -well his would be a night date. firstly Ayato would make sure that every monster camp that could possibly disturb their date was sent into oblivion -then with Thoma's help, he'd find this cozy little grove of trees covered in those luminescent plants -he'd set it up like a small picnic/resting spot, with blankets and LOTS of cushions and pillows and delish food and whatnot -it would be the perfect spot to just bask in each other's presence -he'd obviously dress up to his best that night, and he'd escort you all the way to his special place to ensure your safety - as the night goes on, the plants around lighting up a light blue and the stars filling the sky and the glowbugs all around, as you both simply relish each other's warmth and presence, he suddenly turns to you -taking each of your hands in his, he stares into your eyes for a few moments before quietly speaking up, expressing how much he loves you, how you're the brightest light in his life and other romantic mushy stuff -it's not too long tho, and in the end he says, "So, my dearest, would you do me the honors of marrying me?" -as he says that, his hands leave yours to open a small ring box that was resting in his pocket till now. There is doubt in his eyes, that perhaps you'll refuse, but also hope that you'll accept -after you get over your shock, you give him a bright smile and ask him how could you possibly not accept his proposal. -with a smile that matches yours' brightness, he slips the ring onto your ring finger before cupping each of your cheeks with his hands and pressing a soft kiss onto your lips.

whew i just keep disappearing dont I? likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated! (not me writing this literally at midnight) Anyways I'm planning to write a Childe x reader enemies to lovers skater smau, what are your opinions? also omg help me im dying bc of my final exams i swear-

#genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #kamisato ayato #genshin ayato #ayato #skylia's works #ayato fluff #ayato x reader #ayato x you #childe x reader #genshin childe #childe tartaglia ajax #genshin tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe fluff #genshin fluff #tartaglia fluff #ajax fluff

[promptthebear]

Kissmas Day 3

Prompt: Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader

A/N: Sort of a sequel (spin off?) of Day 2 if you squint, but you can read either or without context. Enjoy!

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

You stole a furtive glance over your shoulder before looking back at the young man standing in front of you. His hand, clad in a white glove, was extended palm up, waiting for you to take it.

And so you did.

The corridor was dim, and almost eerily quiet after the colour and noise of the ballroom. You followed your companion, Edmund, he said his name was Edmund, past marble pillars and candelabras that stood like glowing sentinels between them. Neither of you said a word, it was only the soft rustling of your skirts and the muted tap of his boots that broke the silence. Not once did he let go of your hand.

Eventually, your journey brought you to a small nook in the corridor that had been carefully disguised from view with a potted lily. It was set at just the right angle that someone, or perhaps even a pair of someones, could slip into the alcove without difficulty and yet still be completely hidden in the plant’s lush foliage from passersby. The light from the candles lining the hall only just kissed the walls of the opening, making for a pleasant but not overwhelming golden glow within.

When you saw the settee that had also been tucked into this hideaway, you turned to Edmund and arched a brow.

“Have you done this before?”

Edmund at least had the sense to look a little sheepish.

“No.” he said, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand “But lots of people know about it. I just never…had anyone I wanted to share it with.”

Satisfied, you gently took your hand from Edmund’s grip and sat, taking a moment to adjust your skirts before you patted the open space next to you. His added weight caused the cushion to dip, pushing your bodies a little closer than you normally would’ve liked. You were grateful for the mask you wore, hoping that and the dim lighting would hide the blush you could feel spreading across your cheeks.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

You turned your head slightly, trying to see Edmund’s eyes. The new angle made it difficult, he was quite a bit taller than you and this meant you were forced to look at his jaw while you spoke.

“Yes. How about you?”

Edmund shrugged. The snugness of the space meant every little movement made much more of an impact. You felt his shoulder brush yours, muscled where yours was soft.

“S’alright. Wish everyone wasn’t so hard up for Peter though. He’s not all that special, even if it is his birthday.”

You muffled a laugh behind your hand.

“That kind of talk could get you hung for treason, you know.”

It was Edmund’s turn to laugh. You quite liked the sound, warm and rolling like church bells.

“He’s my brother. If he tries to hang me, I’d knock him on his arse first.”

“Do you like being a prince?”

That seemed to surprise him, you could tell by the way his eyes widened behind his mask. It was a funny expression on a fox, certainly not sly and knowing like you’d expect one to be.

“I suppose? Living in a castle is nice enough, and I actually don’t mind doing council meetings even if Peter hates them. It’s only just…”

“What?”

The question hung between you two like a wisp of smoke, growing and billowing the longer it sat. Edmund took a deep breath, you felt his stomach graze your elbow as he inhaled.

“I just wish everyone wasn’t watching all the time, you know? Sometimes I really miss being able to go off and do ordinary things, and be an ordinary man instead of having everyone expect me to act like I’m royal. I wasn’t always, why should wearing a crown change any of that?”

You remembered how it felt, the eyes on you when he’d asked you to dance. A chill went down your spine and you gave an involuntary shiver. Edmund reached out and stroked your arm with the backs of his fingers, concerned.

“Is that why you brought me here? To get away from being watched?” you asked, your voice little more than a whisper.

“Well, yes. That, and one other reason.”

When his mouth caught yours, it was tentative and quick, as though Edmund wasn’t all that used to doing a lot of kissing despite being one and twenty. You leaned against him, pressing your body and your lips closer to try and encourage him. He seemed to get the hint, reaching up to cradle the back of your head with one hand and bringing the other around your waist.

It was over much too quickly, and when Edmund drew back you followed, shortening the little distance there was between you as you entangled your fingers in his shirtfront.

“We should be going back. Your sister is probably looking for you.”

“Not just yet.”

Edmund was about to protest, though any further attempts were quickly silenced as you kissed him again.

If anyone was looking for the Crown Prince of Narnia and a visiting Lady from Ettismoor that night, they would’ve been hard pressed to find either. When morning came and the celebration broke up, your families would still be warring and Edmund would most likely have to go off and be princely. But for now, there was no one in the alcove except a very ordinary boy kissing a pretty girl he’d met at his brother’s birthday party, enjoying what precious little time they had.

.

#kissmas 2022 #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie #narnia fic #edmund pevensie fluff

[2centniffler]

The Way the Wind Blows | Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

The Undercroft was many things - secluded, quiet, impossible to find.

Unfortunately, it wasn't well-ventilated, and Sebastian was having a rough afternoon.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,146

Authors Note: This is a 4 a.m. crackfic about farts. Please, don't ask for any further explanation because there isn't one.

Can be read on ao3 here (x)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She told him she'd join him in the Undercroft at 4 o'clock on the nose.

Most of her day had been spent napping during History of Magic, and when she wasn't dozing off? She was doodling her and Sebastian's initials on sheets of spare parchment, surrounding the script with a slew of tiny little daisies and hearts until the ink of her quill ran dry.

It was the only thing that kept her going on that dreadfully dull day - knowing that the moment her classes came to an end, she would be able to spend the long-awaited weekend with the boy she held dearest to her heart, and not a single thing could ruin it.

A few days prior on a rainy afternoon, Sebastian had promised her a picnic by the shore knowing just how desperately she wanted to enjoy the afternoon beneath the late-spring sun, soaking in the rays and painting by the lake with the new set of watercolors he had gifted her on the day he had asked her to be his.

So after a few days of clear skies and the promise of a free weekend after their study session, she marched through the halls with her books in her arms and an excited smile on her lips.

The glow of the candelabras shining dimly down below grew brighter as she descended the hidden stairs, and with each step she took she became more excited for her weekend to begin. She thought of the sweet treats they would purchase from Honeydukes and share by the shore, and about who would win in a competition of skipping stones across the water, should one take place. But, the closer she got to the bottom of the stairs, the more a very particular and unpleasant smell became apparent.

"Merlin..." she exaggerated his name as she wafted her hand in front of her face, attempting to dispel the absolutely horrid odor. "Did a bloody rat get trapped down here and die?!"

There stood Sebastian in the dead-center of the room - his torso leaned across the table with his eyes wide, his cheeks beet-red, and his fist balled-up and covering his mouth while he stood as still as stone. "Don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, stifling back a tight-lipped laugh. "I can't smell a thing."

"You don't smell that?" her nostrils flared as she inhaled, this time deeper, and she couldn't figure out why, exactly, Sebastian was practically convulsing where he stood. She took a few steps closer, the stench slowly dissipating as she looked around the room in hopes of spotting the source. "You have to smell it, Sebas—"

"No." He responded swiftly, choosing to breeze off her concerns and change the subject entirely. "You're uh, you're here early."

"Professor Binns let us go earlier than anticipated..." she started, having a seat across from him and no longer thinking about the stench that once was. "He spent half of the class talking about nonsense. Honestly, you'd think that if he weren't a ghost, he'd be made of nothing but hot air. Are...you alright? You're acting strange."

All he did was shake his head 'no', turn away, then burst into a fit of laughter -  which left her more confused than she already had been...until Sebastian began to apologize profusely while on the verge on tears, just before dropping his head to the table, and ripping a copious amount of raw and unfiltered ass.

The poor girl sat there, unfazed at first. It was nothing but noise - a hearty, rippling noise that left her slightly disgusted, and now regretting ever stepping foot in the Undercroft. "Sebastian Sallow, you're disgusting."

"I'm sorry!" he wheezed, and just like a clap from Uranus himself, Sebastian broke wind again - but this time it was more thunderous, and it echoed off the walls and the pillars and every solid surface, leaving her with mere seconds until she was dusted in a stench so foul she was sure it would linger on her robes for days to come.

"...that is fucking mephitic." her muffled chides were barely audible between the layers of her sleeves and the hand that fought to keep the odor away from her olfactory senses. "What did you eat at lunch? I've told you a hundred times that eating that much cheese wasn't good for you!"

Against her better judgement, she moved her hand away from her nose and went to speak again, but the only sound that came out was a wretch and a gag - but from Sebastian? It was nothing but raucous laughter.

"I said I was sorry!"

No longer was she thinking about studying, or do anything with him in the rancid hot-box he'd made, and she certainly wasn't thinking about their outing the next day. The only thing she could think about was how the longer she stayed, the longer she was marinating in his noxious fumes - and she didn't want any part of that.

"No, no, no..." his intention was to stop her from leaving, to maybe hook his fingers in the hood of her robe, or stop her with a bear hug from behind, knowing she wouldn't be able to escape.

But that wasn't necessary.

As he dashed around the table, the last wispy remnants of his pent-up flatulence made itself known in the form of a tight, peppy little squeak - and this time, she couldn't help but giggle.

"Are you laughing?" Sebastian asked, doing his damnedest to fight back laughter of his own.

"...no." but it was clear that she was lying.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around, forcing her to look him dead in the eye. Hers were filled with tears, and her cheeks were more red than his ever were. They laughed and laughed, until no more sound came from their mouths (specifically), and they were sure their sides had split.

"I'm sorry..." Sebastian was laid across the floor, his arm across his stomach as he looked up at the ceiling, wiping away the tears that crested down his cheeks while letting out an occasional chuckle. "I didn't want to do that in front of you, but you're here early than expected, and I thought I had time to get it all out."

Did she fully believe him? Of course not. This wasn't the first time he'd acted so uncouth in front of her, and she was positive it wouldn't be the last - but, after it was all said, or, well, sounded off and done, the couple had a silly little memory that she knew they'd never forget, and something to laugh at for hopefully years to come.

"It's alright," she started as she helped lift him from the floor, hoping the age old 'Pull my finger' trick wouldn't apply. "But for the love of Merlin, please stop eating so much cheese at lunch."

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow x female mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

Can I request michael getting jealous because some guy is flirting with the reader? (Also I think you might have turned off the anon feature, idk if that was intentional or not lol)

I did turn it off, but not on purpose! I’m so sorry!! I didn’t know you had to manually turn on Anon Asks when you reopened the requests!

I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for the request! I love Jealous Michael 🥴

~~~~~~~

Every Friday night, Michael took you out to dinner. It had been a tradition since you had gotten together. He’d make you dress nice, take you out to any restaurant of your choosing, and devote all of his time to you. Between his studio visits and his performances, he felt like he never had time for you, so he liked to make it up to you by taking you out and spoiling you rotten every week.

You were in your shared bedroom, waiting on your tall boyfriend to finished getting dressed. Michael was more worried about how he looked than you did, evidenced by the slowly growing mountain of clothes on the floor. Giggling to yourself, you shook your head as he paced from the floor length mirror back to his closet, grabbing another shirt and almost tearing the one he had on off. “You’re becoming a diva.” you mused, your (e/c) orbs following his every movement. Lips pursed in a thin line, he shot you an annoyed look, turning back to look in the mirror as he began buttoning the shirt he picked out. “I’m sorry not all of us look good in anything we put on.” he quipped, stepping back to observe the article of clothing. Rolling your eyes, you stood from the bed, striding over to stand infront of him.

Smoothing the tiny amount of wrinkles on the button up, you reached up to straighten his collar. “Michael, you looked good in the last 4 shirts you put on.” you assured, placing a hand on his cheek. The curly haired goth leaned his cheek into your hand, his eyes catching yours in a deep trance. You smiled up at him, leaning up to press a kiss to the side of his mouth. “Stop changing your shirts so we can go. You’re going to make us late.” you giggled, removing your hand from his face. He nodded, words failing him as he was lost in thought about you. Grabbing his wrist, you turned and dragged him from the bedroom and away from the closet you knew he desperately wanted to rummage through again.

Once downstairs, Michael finally gained conciousness again. Grabbing his keys and wallet, it was now his turn to usher you out of the front door. Locking it behind him, he walked you over to your side of his car, opening the door before you even had the chance to reach out. Smiling at him once again, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before sliding into the seat, buckling yourself in as he shut the door and hurried to the driver’s side. Once in, he started the car, and you began the short journey it took you to get to the restaurant.

Upon arrival, you sat in your seat, giddily watching Michael get out of the car and rush back over to your side, opening your door for you once again. Holding his hand out, you grabbed it, stepping out of the vehicle and straightening the clothes you were wearing. Looping your arm through his, the both of you walked into the restaurant, waiting at the host desk to be seated. A kind woman asked for your last name, and quickly ushered you to a small table with 2 seats across from each other. Orchestral music played softly in the background, combining smoothly with the chatter of the tables around you. A trio candelabra sat neatly in the center of each table, the candles lit and flames softly flickering every now and then. The air was warm, and spirits were high. Despite the commotion going on around you, the only person who retained your attention was Michael, who in turn had his full attention on you.

You shared simple conversation as you waited for the server to arrive at your table. You listened intently as he informed you of his upcoming shows and his new album, watching as he spoke passionately about his job. It made you feel warm knowing that he was so happy about his life in the moment. Just as he was about to dive into another topic, his phone began buzzing loudly. Michael reached into his pocket, groaning dramatically while looking at the caller i.d.

“It’s my manager.” he stated, showing you the screen. “Well, go answer it.” you replied, sending him a soft smile. He frowned, and began to set his phone down. It was your turn to shoot him an annoyed. “Michael, go answer the phone. It’ll be okay, you won’t be gone more than 5 minutes.” you reassured, placing your hand over his. He responded with an apologetic look, grabbing his phone and hitting the answer button, standing from the table and moving somewhere quieter. You smiled at his back, already knowing that he was griping to his manager about calling this late on a Friday night. Too lost in your day dream about Michael, you didn’t notice the waiter had finally come up to your table, pen and a note pad in his hands.

“Well, good evening, gorgeous. What will you be drinking tonight?” the waiter started, snapping you from your day dream. Turning your attention to the man, you gave him a friendly smile. “Could I please get 2 glasses of chardonnay?” you asked. He wrote your drink order quickly, a smirk showing on his face. “2 glasses of wine? Ready to get your partying started already?” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow. You giggled, opening your mouth to reply to him before your eyes caught sight of the familiar curly headed man who had brought you here tonight. “Oh, one’s actually for my boyfriend.” you replied, shooting a smile at the tall man who had almost reached your table. The waiter hummed in response, turning on his heel and leaving with the promise of being right back.

“Ugh, I can’t even take the damn weekend off without being bothered.” Michael groaned, sliding into his seat upon arrival. Grabbing his hand, you began playing with his fingers, tracing over the veins that popped up against his skin. “What’s going on?” you asked, mind on him but eyes on his hand. He began rambling, filling you in on his phone call while you listened intently, adding in bits of your own judgement when you felt like you needed to. Subconciously, he turned his hand over, lacing his fingers with yours as he finished his rant, another annoyed groan falling from his mouth. You smiled at him, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand.

As the both of you fell silent, the waiter returned with your drinks. Setting the cups down, you couldn’t help but notice that your glass was a little more than half full, while Michael was given the normal amount. You moved to pick your glass up to pour some into your boyfriend’s, but the waiter was quick to make you pause, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. Looking up to him, your eyebrows furrowed, confusion written on your face. The waiter shot you a smirk and a wink, and unfortunately for him, that didn’t go unnoticed by Michael. He continued watching the other man speaking to you, not even throwing a glance in Michael’s direction. Becoming uncomfortable, your eyes began to dart back and forth between the two men, hoping that your beau would do something to get you out of said situation.

It was then that Michael abruptly stood up, throwing some cash down on the table. He shoved the waiter, maybe a little too hard, and grabbed your hand, all but dragging you away from the table and through the crowded dining room of the restaurant. He was wordless the entire time, his grip on your hand never easing up. You stumbled trying to keep up with his long strides, calling his name to try and get him to slow down. Arriving back at the car, he finally let go, but instead of opening your door like he always did, he walked straight to the driver’s side, opening the door and sliding him. You scoffed, opening your own door.

“Michael, what the fuck?” was all you asked as you got in, shutting the door behind you. He was wordless, instead cranking up the engine and all but flooring it out of the parking lot. The car ride was silent on the way home, your arms crossed over your chest as you stared at the road ahead of you. Michael pulled into the driveway of your home, turning the car off but sitting back in the seat. Looking into your lap, you tried to rack your brain for something to say. Something that would help you figure out what was up with the sudden temperament change. Your thoughts were cut off by his voice.

“I’m sorry.” he said, sincerely but with a short tone. Uncrossing your arms, you turned to stare at him. His eyes were on the steering wheel, his lower lip jutted out into a pout. You wanted to laugh and poke fun, but instead, you reached a hand out, placing it on his thigh. Sighing, his head hit the headrest, eyes still not looking at you. “I don’t know why I acted like that. When he touched you, I just saw red. When he winked, I just knew we had to leave before I beat the shit out of him. I just needed to get away before something happened.” he finished explaining, eyes never leaving the roof of the car. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you took his words in, imagining yourself in his position. You knew that if someone was trying to flirt with him, you’d probably do the same thing he did. You couldn’t blame him, and it made you think about how hurt he must have been to see what was happening.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you carefully maneuvered yourself out of your seat and over the center console, being careful not to hit your head on the car roof. Planting your butt in his lap, legs still laying over the center console with your feet propped up in the passenger seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head against his chest. Feeling his arms snake around your middle, you just sat there with him, enjoying the peaceful moment. Pulling away, you looked at him, smiling sweetly to him.

“Michael, I understand. You did what you had to do, and that’s okay. You got us out of a situation that would have been horrible if we stayed, and I’m so thankful for that. I know what you were seeing was making you jealous, and I understand. That guy was a creep. I even told him I was there with you, but he still wanted to make a move. There’s nothing to apologize to me about.” you reassured him quietly, cupping his face and rubbing your thumb over his cheek. He looked at you, a tiny smile growing on his own face. Placing a few kisses to his jawline, you moved to his lips, catching him in a soft lip lock. Michael sighed against you, one hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck as he pulled impossibly closer.

Breaking away, you looked in his eyes, a devilish smirk crawling over your lips. “Plus… that was kinda hot.” you giggled, watching his eyes widen slightly. At that sentence, he was quick to throw his door open, lifting you into his arms as he stood. From the car to the front door of your home, he rushed the two of you inside and up the stairs. You were about to be in for a very long night…

#sp goth kids #south park goth kids #south park headcanons #sp fanfiction #south park michael #sp michael #sp michael x reader #south park michael x reader

[pilferingapples]

   ah that bit in every Romanticist bio where we gotta get the who's who as the author sees it (all this is from the Fourth Musketeer)

At the Café de Paris, on the boulevard, Alexander breathed the air of the great world. There the celebrities of journalism, literature, and dandyism met.

...this gets long

That man with the warlike hat and blinking eyes' is Nestor Roqueplan who has now left his garret, his washbasin-clock and his pistols-candelabra for the comfortable offices of the Figaro.

OK was this before/after/during its time as an anti-Romanticist paper??

Next him is Jules Janin, who looks comfortably rotund but thinks only of snapping at his neighbor, and who will later fight a duel with Dumas about a wretched question of dramatic criticism.

JULES JANIN DUELED ALEX DUMAS?? ...JULES JANIN DUELES ALEX DUMAS AND LIVED?!?

That fellow by way of being a gentleman, dressed with the correctness of an English lord in a blue coat with gold buttons, a yellow waistcoat, and pearl-gray trousers, is the husband of Marie Dorval, Merle, one of the legitimist party, an epicure and an authority on gastronomy.

..wait, isn't that outfit a Werther cosplay? Am I getting the colors wrong?

. . Over at the long table, orating in a high voice, with his face awkwardly swathed in an enormous neckcloth to hide certain unpleasant scars, is Veron, nicknamed the Prince of Wales, actually the manager of the Revue de Paris, who pays Dumas royally, at least for the time being. With his high color, his greedy lips that look as if they were smeared with jam, and his gluttonous eyes, he seems at once an abbot of former times and a comedy valet.

This guy is way more important than you'd guess by how little he shows up in histories! Also he got his start in patent medicine, which is really jumping out at me post-Blue Castle read!

     That tall, thin, dark man, with hair cut brush-shaped and a prominent nose, wearing a velvet caftan and a cap lined with martin fur, is Adolphe de Leuven, librettist of the Postillon de Lonjumeau, who launched Alexander. By his side, flaunting a magnificent kidskin waistcoat and whirling his rhinoceros cane, is handsome Roger de Beauvoir, with a mop of curly black hair, the only one of Alexander's friends who is an aristocrat of wealth-Beauvoir who entertains six hundred people at the Hôtel de Pimodan, and who has just challenged Balzac for accusing him of being named neither Roger nor Beauvoir. Although Balzac took the trouble to send him "forty pages of excuses," the dandy will listen to nothing and proclaims: "I scorn M. de Balzac's prose, I want only his skin!"

holy shit Balzac you messed up??

     Here is Eugène Sue, very smart in his sea-green coat, with a rather vulgar turn of the nose that detracts from his good looks. Last, simpler and jollier than the rest, is that good fellow Méry who passes for a librarian at Marseilles, but who is always off on a lark to Paris; an amazing improviser who can compose correctly an act of a classical tragedy within two hours, and in the drawing-rooms describe the tortures of hell so vividly that the ladies beg for mercy.

Fun new party game: Describe the tortures of hell!

     Near these gentlemen, but on a lower plane, the madmen appear. "He who was Gannot" and has made himself God under the name Mapah, is a fop and a billiard player now fallen on evil days who sends out manifestos signed "By Our Apostolic Ruin."

The Mahpah is one of the wildest ...visionaries? religious ...somethings? movement leaders? of the time, love seeing him get mentioned (Wiki) (Nonbinary wiki)

Jean Journet, called the Apostle, goes about dressed as a begging friar and sells his verses unfailingly entitled "Songs" or "Cries."

...I have no idea who this is . Sounds like he's coping with poverty very artistishly.

Poor Petrus Borel imagines himself to be a wolf; at his house Alexander has eaten cream from a skull. . . .

excuse you he never said he was a wolf he said he was a werewolf and no one actually disagreed also man,you serve ice cream in skulls ONE time...

         ...you might see (Dumas) in the rue Grange-Batelière, in the salon of the dancer Marie Taglioni, "the sylph of sylphs," or at Delphine de Girardin's on the days when she recited her poems. But Alexander always grew sentimental near "the Muse" and asked her to receive him in private. "I love you," he said, "with an affection too selfish to share you with the world." Then, when they were alone together, she would interrupt him with questions about dramatic art. "Do tell me how one writes for the theater?" Dumas laughed at what he called "the naïveté of genius."      He was attractive to women, there was no doubt of that, even to the most distrustful of them. When Sainte-Beuve, who was fond of playing the rôle of intermediary, proposed to introduce Alfred de Musset to George Sand, she answered: "I don't want you to bring Alfred de Musset. He's too much of a dandy, we should never get along together. . . . Instead of him, do bring Alexander Dumas, in whose art I have found a soul, exclusive of his talent." Alexander came and Sand took a great liking to him.

Wow, imagine if George Sand had ever hung out with Musset What a disaster that would have been huh in that alternate world ><

#place names! #people! #too many to tag #alexandre dumas #Dumas #Delphine Girardin #George Sand #Petrus Borel #French Romantics