#st fic: bloom

[sattlersquarry]

carnations (steve harrington x fem!reader)

part three of the bloom series. series masterlist

Summary: You and Steve become closer. (garden center!steve x wedding planner!reader)

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, mentions of infidelity, miscommunication, the reader's mother is Jacqueline.

red carnations: admiration, "my heart aches for you"

❤️❤️❤️

“You’re going where?!”

Your mother can’t seem to wrap her head around the fact that you have a date. You’re trying not to take it personally, but you wish she would sound a bit less incredulous.

“On a date,” you repeat, adding one last swipe of lip gloss before shoving the tube into your purse. “With Steve, from the Garden Center.”

“You barely know him,” your mother says, hovering behind you as you pull on your jacket. “He could be a serial killer. Or a serial dater.”

“That’s worse than a literal murderer?” you deadpan, raising an eyebrow.

Your heart explodes into butterflies when you hear a knock at the door. That’s Steve, right on time.

You shush your mother and her incessant worrying before swinging open the door.

Steve is there, dressed to the nines. He’s upgraded from his usual garden-themed graphic t-shirt, this time opting for a striped polo. He looks about as nervous as you as he hands over a beautiful bouquet of carnations.

“Hey,” he says, smiling. “You look great.”

“Thank you,” you say. “You do, too. And these are beautiful, thank—”

“Oh, stunning!” your mother interrupts, swooping over to take the flowers from you. “Did you arrange these yourself?”

“Mom,” you say, nodding in the direction of your apartment’s kitchenette. “Don’t you have to eat dinner and then meet with the ice sculpturist?”

“Oh, I have a few minutes,” she says. She beams at Steve. “Hi, I’m Jacqueline. Y/N’s mother. Charmed.”

“Steve,” Steve says, shaking her hand. “Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you. And, uh, yes! Well, I picked the flowers, and my friend Robin helped me put it all together.”

“You two should work for me,” your mother says. “You have an eye for design.”

“Okay!” you say, before your mother could launch into a spiel about bouquets that would most definitely make you and Steve late for your dinner reservation. “We have to go, but I’ll be back later.”

“Have fun,” your mother calls as you and Steve walk toward his BMW. “Be safe.”

You bid her goodbye and try not to swoon when Steve opens the passenger side door for you.

“What a gentleman,” you tease.

“Always,” Steve says—one part cheeky, two parts genuine.

As he drives you both away from the Byers-Hopper property, you ask, “So, is this place really all it’s cracked up to be? When I mentioned to Hopper that we were going to Enzo’s, I swear he started salivating.”

“The food is really good,” Steve says. “And so is the wine. It’s exported from Italy.”

He means to say “imported,” but you don’t correct his malapropism. It's cute. He's cute.

You spend the rest of the drive chatting. You learn more about Steve—he used to be a jock. Long before the Garden Center, he was a lifeguard, but switched to retail after graduating high school. Steve used to babysit Will Byers and his friends, and he and Robin are roommates, living in a small townhome near downtown Hawkins.

You talk a bit about yourself, too—about how you’re from Eagleton and will be back there when the wedding is done. How you also used to be a lifeguard. How you feel a bit lost, unsure of what you want out of life.

Steve understands. He feels the same way. It’s nice to be heard. To be understood.

**

By the third course, after a thoroughly enjoyable conversation, you’re resisting the urge to leap across the table and kiss Steve in front of the entire Enzo’s customer base.

He’s sweet. He’s funny. He’s a good listener. He has a nice face, and nice hands. He’s kind of the complete package.

You try to temper your excitement about him, seeing as you are only a temporary resident of Hawkins. But Eagleton is only an hour away, and you could definitely try to make it work if he wanted to. You really, really hope he wants to.

“What about gelato for dessert?” you ask, perusing your menu to avoid gawking at Steve’s handsome face.

Steve’s face screws up like he’s eaten something sour.

“Not big on ice cream,” he says. “I used to work at an ice cream shop and I think I ate too many free samples.”

He doesn’t tell you that working at the ice cream shop led to him getting tortured. That’s a story for another time, or never.

“Biscotti instead?” you ask, closing your menu. The two of you agree and order the cookies.

As you wait for them to arrive, Steve clears his throat and asks, “So, how’s the wedding planning coming along?”

You groan and put your head in your hands.

“That bad, huh?”

“My mom is so finicky about everything,” you say, lifting your gaze to meet his once more. “She wants it to be perfect for Joyce and Jim, which I get, but she needs to lighten up. Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Steve teases with a chuckle.

“It’s not all bad though,” you say. You fidget with your rings and add, “I’m really glad working for my mom helped me meet you.”

Steve’s eyebrows lift. You cringe, worrying that you’ve come on too strong. Worried that you sound like an imbecile, fawning for him like this.

But Steve says, “I’m really glad I met you, too,” his voice and eyes soft.

Another menagerie of butterflies swoops around your heartstrings, tugging them in all the right directions.

At the end of the night, he kisses you outside your door and asks if you want to go out again. You vehemently agree.

It continues like that for the next two weeks. You spend your days working on the wedding and your evenings with Steve. And, well, after quite a few dates, you spend the later part of your night with him, too. It’s lovely, he’s lovely, and you’re really, really happy.

After your night together, you decide you want to get him something, like a box of chocolates or a bouquet. Steve is surrounded by flowers all the time, so you figure a “bouquet” of biscotti, courtesy of Enzo’s catering services, would be a nice change of pace. It’s a thank-you-for-being-so-lovely-(and-also-good-at-sex) gesture.

You walk into the Garden Center and beam when you see Steve. He’s speaking with a customer, smiling and nodding at something they’re saying.

As you get closer, you realize the customer he’s talking to is a girl. A pretty one, about your age. She’s got blue eyes and brown curls that are tamed by sparkly pink hair clips. Your heart aches when you notice the way Steve’s looking at her; this isn’t run-of-the-mill customer-service politeness. This is real, true fondness. The way he’s been looking at you lately.

You feel trampled on when the two of them hug, lingering in it longer than necessary. When Steve pulls away, the mystery girl leans up and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

You stumble backward, accidentally knocking over a rake. It clatters to the cement floor of the Garden Center, the sound echoing down the aisles.

You turn and book it, charging toward the exit without looking back to see if Steve heard you. Tears burn behind your eyes and a sob threatens to claw its way up your throat.

You thought Steve liked you. You thought he wanted to be with you. You gave him absolutely everything, and he just, what? Moves on the next day like nothing even happened?!

“Hey, Y/N!” Robin calls from her perch at the customer service kiosk, much too loud for your liking. You continue your trek out of the store, ignoring her when she asks, “Hey, where are you going?”

You toss the biscotti bouquet in a trash can and fumble with your keys, thankful that you parked right outside the store. In the distance, you hear Steve calling for you. You don’t even look up. You don’t do anything except unlock your car door and start the engine, peeling away from the Hawkins Garden Center before your heart completely shatters.

💔💔💔

a/n love a miscommunication trope. TAGGING THE LOVELY PEOPLE WHO HELPED BRING GARDEN CENTER STEVE TO LIFE, along with others who enjoyed the previous parts! :) there will be 1 or 2 more parts to wrap this up.

@quinnkeerys @spicysix @keerysquinn @sunshinesteviee @inkluvs @stevebabey @0vix0 @lame0o @ghostlyfleur @starry-eyed-steve @hollandweather @lurkingprincess

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #st fic: bloom #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington

[cuddlebugsirius]

I discovered that another absolutely insanely talented person has bound Atelier, Bloom St. and I'm just so impressed and in a state of disbelief 🫢

Never did I ever imagine that anyone would like my silly little fanfiction enough to dedicate so much time and energy to it, thank you so so much! I thought I would share both of the bindings of Atelier so everyone can obsess over them with me 😍💐

You should go and check out @dearamleo & @lizz-binding's amazing work!

Fic art in the final photo is by the incredible @whoisflattery ✨

#fic: atelier bloom st #book binding #fic binding #personal use only #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar

[slmjaeyuns]

☼ kim sunwoo fics that altered my brain chemistry ☼

all time favourites ♡

(fics contain a combination of genres including fluff, angst, suggestiveness, smut)

♡ the boy ♡

♡ blurred lines ♡

♡ this is how we fall ♡

♡ heart shaped exhaust pipes ♡

fluffs ❀

❀ pose ❀

❀ odds ❀

❀ yūgen ❀

❀ rekindle ❀

❀ love sick ❀

❀ seat filler ❀

❀ safe place ❀

❀ you’re safe ❀

❀ hoodie talk ❀

❀ aquaphobia ❀

❀ when it’s right ❀

❀ goal: your heart ❀

❀ walking on sunshine ❀

❀ from my moon to yours ❀

sequel: ❀ under our stars ❀

❀ you look hideous on me ❀

❀ when the hydrangea bloom ❀

❀ what type of cheese are you? ❀

❀ what happens in vegas, stays in vegas ❀

angst ☽

☽ jeong ☽

sequel: ☽ commitment ☽

☽ clouds ☽

☽ daisies ☽

☽ die for you ☽

☽ going high ☽

☽ dandelions ☽

☽ spring snow ☽

☽ run with hell ☽

☽ take me back ☽

☽ dear stranger ☽

☽ stubborn love ☽

☽ bloom for you ☽

☽ come back home ☽

sequel: ☽ promised you the moon ☽

☽ today’s happiness ☽

☽ the girl i haven’t met ☽

☽ maybe in another life ☽

☽ a pink sweater in spring ☽

☽ rewind, revive (all that we are.) ☽

suggestive/smut ☁︎

☁︎ ridin’ ☁︎

☁︎ bbgg ☁︎

☁︎ insanity ☁︎

☁︎ attention ☁︎

☁︎ unnamed ☁︎

☁︎ consuming ☁︎

☁︎ lucky charm ☁︎

☁︎ plein d’amour ☁︎

☁︎ ditching plans ☁︎

☁︎ st. fratty’s day ☁︎

☁︎ relax, let’s do it ☁︎

☁︎ so much for self control ☁︎

☁︎ a little tmi between friends ☁︎

#the boyz #sunwoo #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo angst #sunwoo smut #sunwoo fic #sunwoo fic recs #the boyz fic recs #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines

[bimbobaggins69]

I saw you did someone’s request and I had to put mine in! Eddie being behind in class and the top of the class cheerleader reader is told to tutor Eddie and it somehow ends in them fucking between the bookshelves of the library, please? 🥺

Meet me in the library

Eddie Munson x sweet cheerleader fem!reader

⚠️warnings: SMUT 18+MDNI, playing never have I ever, Eddie has a slight corruption kink, dirty talk, public sex, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m—receiving), unprotected p in v sex, cream pie, all of my “sweet and innocent or virgin” girlies are always undercover freaks, it’s hard for me to write for super innocent characters since well, I’m not.

A/N: I was recently rewatching st and realized a lot of the kids reference failing Spanish, so I thought that could be the subject Eddie needs help with in this, as I don’t see that much in other fics. Anyway, thank you to whoever sent in this request. Hope you like it <3

Today, was not your day. You had woken up 15 minutes late, missed the bus, did not have time to eat anything but a granola bar and to top it off; Tyler in first period, sent you one of his weekly pervy notes, that read: “You’re so hot, my zippers falling for you.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you crumbled the paper to throw away on your way out, to second period.

As you walk into Mrs. Burtons Spanish class, the vanilla air freshener sitting on her desk, wafting through the air. You take a seat in the middle and begin taking out your text book.

“Buenos Dias, clase.” Her inability to roll her tongue, peaking through her sentence.

“Buenos Dias, Mrs. Burton.” You and a few other pupils, say back.

“Please take out your Spanish 1, text books and turn to page 24.” As you move to open your book with the rest of the class, the classroom door is pulled open. Eddie Munson walks in, without a care in the world that he’s late. Choosing the open seat right next to you, he plops down. The smell of weed, hitting your nose. Clearly smoking before class was more important.

No wonder he’s a super duper senior - you thought to yourself

You usually try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but you’ve had a shit day and thus, no filter. You don’t dislike Eddie, you’ve had multiple classes with him throughout your high school career and even though you both have never really had a full on conversation, you’ve still never bought the crap this town says about him.

“So nice of you to join us, Señor Munson.” Spits Mrs. Burton, face adorned with the fakest of smiles

“Uh, I forgot my book in my van, sorry.” He says while slumping down in his chair

“Mmhm” Mrs. Burtons continues while rolling her eyes and turning towards the chalk board

“Psst, what page are we on?” You hear being whispered in your direction

You turn toward it, not sure if the questions is directed at you or someone else. As you turn your head towards the leather jacket wearing metal head, you notice his eyes trained on you, eyebrows lifted as if to say “hello?”

“Oh um, page 24.” You whisper back

“Thanks, Pom poms.” He says with a wink

Your face instantly blooming a rosy pink— Eddie notices as he throws you a cocky smirk.

You bury your head in your text book as Mrs. Burton explains the difference between “los padres and el padre”

After Mrs. Burton dismisses the class, and you’re packing up your belongings. She sets her sights on you.

“Y/L, Munson? Can I have a word with you both, before you go?” Her eyes darting from yours to Eddie’s

“Sure” you both say in unison, although your tones were anything but similar

You put the purple straps of your backpack on your shoulders, while Eddie haphazardly slings one strap over his. Bag zipped halfway.

You both walk up to Mrs. Burtons desk, side by side. Eddie looked annoyed, like he had better things to be doing, while you always did your best to be polite.

“Y/N, I wanted to ask. Since you are my best student, if you wouldn’t mind tutoring Eddie, here? If he passes these next two tests, they will count for half of his grade, if he can bump his F up to at least a C, he can finally pass my class.”

She says, all while side eyeing Eddie. His jaw clenching through her proposal. You couldn’t help feeling bad for the way he was treated, by peers and teachers alike. You wondered how it must feel to have your teachers give up on you. You would probably stop caring, too.

Before your thoughts could carry on, Mrs. Burton begins talking again.

“So, what do you say?” Her eyes pleading for a yes, she clearly wants him out of her class.

You look over again at Eddie, the action making your tummy fill with butterflies. Having to be in close proximity to him, most likely alone. You couldn’t tell if the nerves were from intimidation or infatuation.

You’d find out soon.

“Yeah, of course. I’d love to help!” Words coming out way too enthusiastic in comparison to how you were internally feeling.

“Okay, excellent.” She says as she sits down in her seat to begin grading papers.

She looks up at you and Eddie through her lashes “you both are free to go.” She says with a tight lipped smile

Eddie is the first one to make his way out the door. Exhaling a breath he’d been holding.

“So, when and where do you wanna meet up?” He says through gritted teeth, face impassive as his eyes flicker to yours.

“Meet me in the library, after school.” You say as you turn on your heel and head to third period.

The day dragged on, until finally the last bell rang out. You made your way to your locker. Exchanging some of your text books for ones you’d need to help you study that night.

As you swing your locker shut, your thoughts interrupted by a figure leaning up against the next locker over.

“Hola, pom poms.” Eddie says with a smirk, your widened eyes turn squinted as you return the smile.

“I thought we were meeting in the biblioteca?”—You inquire

“The what?” He says as he reads your face for the answer

Oh lord, you had your work cut out for you.

“Biblioteca means library in Spanish, Eddie.” You say with a giggle

“Mm, no yeah, I-I knew that.” His smirk drops, as he swallows. Addams apple bobbing at the motion.

“Sure you did. So do you wanna lead the way, or do you need directions?” You say with no bite to your words, purely a joke.

“Oh, low blow, princess!” He says as he puts his hand over his heart. “All have you know, I’ve been to the library once or twice before.” He smirks while looking back at you.

The butterflies in your stomach returning, ten fold.

As you both shuffle into the library, it was mostly empty. Most of your peers have already headed home for the day. You both find a nice secluded table towards the back shelves. Away from the judging eyes of Mrs. Westin, the grumpy old librarian who loves to tell people to be quiet, even when their voices are just above a whisper. You knew Eddie could be loud, witnessing his little outburst in the cafeteria and in classes you both have shared together, through the years.

As you reach the furthest table; you remove your backpack, taking out your text book along with some paper and a pencil. Meanwhile Eddie slams his body into his seat, slumping down and spreading his legs out as he crosses his arms against his chest. You can feel him watching you as you turn to the page your next test was going to be on.

“Are you going to keep staring at me? Or are you going to get your text book and writing utensils out, so we can study?” You ask as you uncomfortably shift in your seat, his gaze doing nothing to ease the butterflies flapping around your belly.

“I’d rather study you, princess.” He says as he brings his chin towards his chest, looking at you through his lashes. Big doe eyes roaming your chest, neck and face as he brings his bottom lip behind his top teeth to bite. Finally his eyes meet yours and you can’t help but to get lost in them.

What was he doing to you?

You were hardly boy crazy, basking in the fact that you never took any of these boys serious. School always came first. That’s not to say you haven’t dated or had fun, you certainly have but you knew graduating and getting the hell outta this soul sucking town was the real object of your desires.

But Eddie was making you feel ways you’ve never felt, ways you didn’t even know were physically possible for you.

You bring your thoughts to a halt, as your eyes quickly find solace in the page in front of you.

“Text book, Eddie?” You say, with a tone you weren’t familiar hearing from yourself.

“I-I didn’t bring it. Is it cool if we just share?” He stands up and makes his way around the table to plop in the chair, beside you. Mirroring the same slouch and spread legs, as earlier. Not even waiting to hear your answer.

“Sure, why not.” You whisper to yourself as you continue looking over the page, trying to gage what lesson you wanted to work on first.

Eddie sits up and scoots his chair closer to you, elbow touching yours. Sending something as easily described as electricity, coursing through your body. You begin to move uncomfortably in your seat again. Eddie, watching you closely out the side of his eyes.

He was purposely trying to throw you off, and it was working. You close your text book and look up at him, while you scoot back in your chair. Eddie moves back a bit too, eyes widening as he thinks you’re going to get up and walk away from him and his antics.

“How about we put off studying for a day and I don’t know, talk?” You say as you collect your book and utensils to put back in your backpack.

“Talk? What would you like to talk about, poms?”

“My name is y/n, not Poms not Pom Poms just y/—n. Okay?” You snap, although the nickname was kinda cute coming from him, you’d prefer to be called your real name.

Eddie puts his hands up in surrender.

“Y/n, right. Sorry.” He says as he begins nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, why don’t we get to know each other a little bit? Maybe that way you can get more comfortable with me and then it’ll be a little easier to study.” You’d much rather talk to him anyway, see what’s going on under that beautiful, luscious head of hai— nope, no. Don’t even finish that thought.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, smirk adorning his full pink lips

“I’d love nothing more than to get to know you, princess..” smirk growing wider

Okay, so much for wanting him to call me by my name. Cause if it’s between that and princess, princess wins. Hands down.

“How about we make it interesting?” Face full of mischief

You could tell that face was going to be nothing but trouble, but you couldn’t help the intrigue it brought you.

“Okay, what did you have in mind?” You ask, trying your best to be impartial.

“Have you ever played, never have I ever?”

“I mean, a couple times at a sleep over and once at a house party, but that involved alcohol.” You say as your heart thumps out of your chest. You remember those questions being anything but innocent. The middle of the library probably not the best place for this. But, you also thought it could be fun.

“Right, well unfortunately for us, we don’t have any. So maybe we can just put a finger down, instead.” Disappointment in his voice “Okay, you start.” He says with a motion of his hand.

“Never have I ever… ditched school.” You wanted to start off small and work your way to the good stuff

Eddie puts his finger down, with an exhale of his breath.

“Okay, princess. Let’s play fair.” He snorts out with a chuckle

“Never have I ever, had a one night stand.” He says with a cocky smirk, as he puts a finger down. Eyes trained on you, as he waits for your answer

You shake your head, as you nervously play with your fingers in your lap.

He’s just jumping right in, okay.

Eddie nods his head as he laughs to himself, as if to say “I knew it.”

“Never have I ever… Um, broken a bone.” You put a finger down, remembering 6th grade and your bright pink cast you had to wear for a whole a year.

Eddie barks out a laugh as he shakes his head.

“No, no, no sweetheart. Dirty questions only.” He says with a smug smile

“Why? I meant get to know as in little details of each other’s lives, not sexually.” You whisper the last word, making Eddie roll his eyes

“C’mon princess, this is so much more interesting.” He whines

“Okay, fine. Never have I ever had sex in a car.” You say as you put a finger down

Eddie’s eyes widen at the new information. He thought you were a virgin, miss Virgin Mary in the flesh. You had unexpectedly surprised him.

“Mm, that’s what I’m talking about, sweetheart.” He says smug smirk still adorning his face

“Never have I ever, had a threesome.” He puts another finger down, as your eyes widen at the fact.

“You’ve had a threesome? With who?” You ask, tone in disbelief

“It was a friend and some girl.” He answers

“With another guy?” The thought making your thighs close, as you swallow down the curiosity plaguing your mind.

Eddie just nods his head, as he looks at you. Awaiting your next revelation.

“Never have I ever, kissed a member of the same sex?” You couldn’t help it, you were curious.

Eddie side eyes you, he knows exactly what you’re doing. He puts his finger down, as you mirror him. Having made out with your best friend at a few of your sleepovers.

That was totally normal, wasn’t it?

You and Eddie, both clearly surprised by the others answer.

“Oh, so miss goody two shoes is actually just a secret bad girl. Having sex in cars and kissing girls? Mm, I like this version much better.” He snickers

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but laugh along.

“Okay, okay” Eddie begins “never have I ever… had sex in public? Car sex doesn’t count.” He continues

“How does that not count? It’s literally in public.”

“I mean in a public place; a park, a gas station, a library?” He says leaning closer to you as he whispers the last part.

Your face heats up at the thought of Eddie, fucking you against one of these bookshelves. Before you could think about the words, they’re already leaving your mouth.

“Nope, can’t say I’ve ever had the privilege of getting fucked in a library.”

Eddie’s eyes darken and his jaw tics at your language. He’s never even heard you cuss before, not even a damn or hell. He was loving that you weren’t as innocent as he thought. Although he did very much want to corrupt you, he thinks it’ll be easier now.

“Well, do you want to?” He asks, big eyes staring into your souls as he licks his lips.

“Um, I-I don’t know.” You stammer

Of course I do! I want you to do whatever you want to me— your brain betrays you, with its horny thoughts. God, it hasn’t been that long. Has it?

“Just say the word, princess. We can change that, if that’s something you’d like.” He says, voice not matching the sexual undertones of the conversation. He sounded so sweet and understanding. Like if you said no, he totally wouldn’t pressure you. He’d just go about his day, like nothing was even said. And that, makes you want him even more.

Your voice feels stuck in your throat. How do you tell him you do, really, really want that without sounding like a slut? I mean clearly, he was one but you don’t know if you’d like to be looked at in that light.

“It’s cool, don’t sweat it. We’ll just get back to stud-“ finally you find your voice, you have to just say it, own it. Who cares, you want Eddie. You want him to fuck you and that doesn’t make you any less than anyone else.

“N-No, I um” you sit up straighter as you try to say the rest of your sentence with more confidence “I want you to fuck me.” You say as you look him directly in the eyes.

His smile beams, as he rubs his chin in deliberation. As if, trying to grasp at the fact that, Hawkins sweetest and most innocent cheerleader just asked him to fuck her in the library. This was better than Christmas. Hell, christmas and his birthday combined. He couldn’t wait to get a little taste of your sweetness, he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time either.

“Okay, anything you want princess.” He whispers as he put his large ringed hand on your thigh. Rubbing up to the hem of your green and yellow cheer skirt. Goosebumps spreading all over your thighs at the coldness of his rings. You squeaked at the gesture.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, baby I’m just g’na get you nice and ready for me, is that okay? Get that pussy, all nice and dripping for me? Huh?” He whispers closer to the shell of your ear. You bite your lip at his filthy words. Rosy cheeks making another appearance.

He moves his hand up higher, grabbing at the fat of your upper thigh and letting out a low growl, as if that really turned him on. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you began looking back towards the front of the library, trying to make sure you wouldn’t get caught and suffer the wrath of Mrs. Westin.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. I won’t let us get caught, okay?” He says as he grabs your chin and turns your head back to look at him. As you take in his face, you notice his eyes trained on your lips. He wanted to kiss you, so without thinking twice you move in closer, closing the space between you both. He watches you and realizes what you’re doing. He begins to completely close it, by putting his lips on yours. The kiss is soft and sweet, until his other hand grabs the back of your head, pulling you even closer. He slips his tongue past your lips as he entangles it with yours, the kiss now needy and passionate. His hand continuing to skate up your skirt, until he reaches your panty covered slit. He can feel just how soaked he’s made you.

“Fuck, you always this wet when you tutor dumbasses, like me?” He laughs, but his self deprecation pulls at your heart strings.

“You’re not a dumbass, Eddie. Don’t talk like that about yourself.” You say shyly, but voice full of tenderness, a tenderness eddie was not use to.

“What? You care about me now? I got your pussy wet, so you think you give a shit about me? Is that it?” He says, but his tone was anything but mean. It was more teasing, something about it made your sex throb and your panties soak up more of your juices.

“N-no, I just don’t think you’re a dumbass. I think, you don’t apply yourself in things that don’t interest you. I think, if you would actually let me help you, and make it interesting enough, you could pass in no time. I’ve worked with dumbasses, you Eddie are not one.” You continue

Eddie’s never been great at taking compliments or receiving love, so he does the only thing he can think of in that moment that doesn’t include any talking. Smashing his lips back into yours with a deep set growl, it’s wet and sloppy, you want more.

And just as if he was reading your mind, Eddie slips your cotton panties to the side, and brings a ringed finger up your slit to collect the wetness. You open your legs wider, as Eddie smirks into the sloppy kiss. He begins rubbing at your little bundle of nerves, and you’re so in the moment that you can’t help but moan out, immediately moving your face into your elbow to cover it up with a cough. Eddie throws his head back in laughter, at that. He can’t take how fucking cute you are. It’s driving him, crazy!

Before you can collect yourself from that embarrassing moment, Eddie plunges a finger into your dripping hole, as he brings your face back to kiss him, trying to conceal your moans.

Finally, he removes his hand from your panties as he whispers in your ear. “Cmon, let’s go find a more private place, for this.” He stands and holds his hand out for you to take, you put your smaller hand in his, as he guides you to the book shelves even further back. You would have to hurry, as the library will be closing soon, but luckily you have more than enough time to spare. You’ve been stuck in this library multiple times to study, so you know about what time, Mrs. Westin comes around to start telling students to, pack it up.

As you follow Eddie behind the bookshelf that reads “science fiction.” He pulls you over and gently puts your back up against the shelves, a couple books digging into your back, but you didn’t mind.

“You sure you still wanna do this, baby?” He asked with such softness, you couldn’t help but melt.

“Yes, I do Eddie.” You whisper to him as you hold his gaze

His smile was infectious. He brought his hands up to your waist, grabbing at the flesh and then rubbing down towards the fat of your ass, grabbing two handfuls.

“Such a pretty ass, I can’t help myself every time I see you, baby. I just gotta look.” He whispers into your ear, making you shiver in excitement.

“I can’t do everything I’d like to do to you, here. But I’m g’na give you a little taste, until next time. How’s that sound?” His voice so silky and smooth. You nod your head, as your eyes water. The anticipation was making you mad, you needed Eddie right then and there.

But the promise of a next time, made the butterflies in your stomach explode.

You didn’t care, you needed him in your mouth. No more waiting. You turn him around and push him up against the same shelf you were just standing against, as you drop down to your knees. Eddie’s eyes bulging out of his head.

“Holy shit.” He whispered to himself

You begin working at his button and zipper, pulling his black jeans and red checkered boxers to his knees. His dick springing out and tapping your cheek. Now, it was your eyes that were bulging out of your head. You knew Eddie’s cocky attitude probably solidified the fact that he was packing, but not like this. He was porn star big.

“Mm, open up baby. Open that pretty little mouth for me.” He says as he grabs his pretty pink cock in one hand, tapping it against your mouth. The pre cum being smeared on your top and bottom lip.

You open and take the head of him, into your mouth and suck. “Fuck” you hear from above you. Taking more into your mouth inch by inch as you reach the middle, not able to fit his whole length in at a time. He grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail and whispers “I know you can take more baby, cmon just a little bit more.” And the desperation in his voice does nothing but make you want to obey.

So you continue taking more of him into your mouth, until your nose brushes against the tuft of curls situated at the bottom of his shaft. You can hear him making gasps and groans above your head, so you move your eyes to focus on the metalhead above you. The knuckle of his thumb between his teeth, as he bites down. Trying to hide his moans from being heard, from across the dead library.

You want nothing more than to hear him, his groans and mules and praises. But as he said, you’ll save that for another day.

He gently pulls your hair, as if to silently tell you to get up on to your feet. You stand back up, drool covering your lips and tears staining your cheeks.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful baby.” He says as he bites at his lip, and uses his finger to wipe up a stray tear. “Come here.” He grabs the small of your back pushing your chest into his, as he kisses you, pulling your skirt up to reveal your baby pink cotton panties. He smiles as his eyes take in the wet spot, just for him.

He moves you further down to another book shelf, as he pushes you back up against it. Grabbing your left leg and hiking it up around his waist, as he digs back under your skirt to move your panties to the side. Taking his cock in one hand. He spreads your arousal all over the tip before it begins breeching your tight hole.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be tight but holy shit.” He gasps

He continues moving in, deeper and deeper. Inch by inch.

You moan out into his ear, something only for you and him to hear, as he begins fucking into you, stretching you out and stuffing you whole. He speeds up as your pussy begins to stretch wider for him. You’re both moaning into each others mouths, ears and necks as he fucks you better than you’ve ever been fucked. Your toes curling in your white ked sneakers. Head thrown back, against the book shelf as he hits that spot so deep inside you. Your pussy begins to flutter around him, making him fuck into you harder. You knew if Mrs. Westin were to come and check on you both, she’d immediately know what was going on. The thought making your pussy flutter even more.

You moan out as you look into Eddie’s eyes.

“Right there. Fuck, don’t stop.”

“Is that your spot, baby? Fuck yeah, I’m not stopping. Not until your cumming all over this cock.” 

He was so close but he needed you to finish first. Taking his ringed fingers and bringing them to your lips, you open up and begin sucking on ‘em. Getting them nice and wet. He moves them between your bodies as he reaches your clit, wet fingers drawing circles over the sensitive bud. Making your vision go white and your legs shake.

“I’m cumming, fuck I’m cumming, Eddie.” You screech out.

“Fuck, so am I. Where do you want it?.” He says as he throws his head back, hair falling beautifully behind his shoulders as he drives his cock harder into you, almost animalistic.

“Inside, please cum inside me.” You cry out

The suggestion and desperation in your voice tipping him over the edge as he releases, white hot ropes inside of your fucked out cunt.

Eddie’s face falls into your neck as he holds on to your hips, you both catching your breathes. Coming down from the best high of your life.

“Damn, yeah we’re definitely g’na have more fun, next time.” He says as he kisses your lips, and pulls away to stuff himself back into his jeans.

You fix your panties and smooth out your skirt as you, and Eddie begin making your way back to the table.

Eddie grabs you by the waist and brings you back towards him, as he notices you begin to close back into yourself. “Hey, that was okay, right? I wasn’t too rough or anything?” He says, he really had a way of making you feel cared for.

“It was perfect, Eddie. I can’t wait to do it again.” You smile as you grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, not caring to fix it properly.

Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, kissing you on the crown of your head. “Let me walk you out to your car.” He offers

“Oh, thank you. What a gentleman.” You joke

You both make your way out of the library, Mrs. Westin side eyeing you both until you walk out of the library, in a fit of giggles.

“Hey, so can I get your number or something?” Eddie says as he leans against your car and opens your door up for you.

“Yeah, sure.” You say back as you rip a piece of paper out of your journal and bring out a pen. Writing your number as you fold it up and hand it to him. He opens it, smiling at your name with a little heart right next to it.

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later?” He asks as he leans in, to give you one more peck to your lips.

“Yeah Eddie, I’ll talk to you later.” You say as you climb into your car.

Holy shit, you just fucked Eddie in the library and you’re going to do it again.

Thank you for reading! 💞

Comments and reblogs are appreciated

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie stranger things

[some-bunniii]

— self indulgence time, say howdy to my hellaverse oc! [+ a fic]

Kokabiel, one of Hell’s original celebrities and fashion icons [art by mamma_hisa]

I have a 6k word fic that’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile, and i worked long enough on it so i think it deserves some sunlight

i wrote the first chapter to a lucifer x oc story in an AU where Lilith leaves when Charlie is a baby and Kokabiel accidentally becomes her maternal figure, and it was going to be long but then I never touched it again ☠️ she was made originally made for the fic but she’s so gorgeous and mommy i spent days fleshing her out as my main bbyg.

working on a few things so take this for now to get a taste of her and some morningstar love! no romance, just introductions.

“Charlie, please go to sleep” The pearlescent figure next to the small bed begged the toddler, who was trying to scramble out of his grip and away from the covers that were wrapped around her waist.

The man’s platinum-blonde hair was disheveled, dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep that was quite evident on his features as he tiredly pulled the girl back onto the bed, holding her still as she whined against his hands. 

His mouth opened in a wide yawn, his shark-like teeth glinting in the soft light that emanated from the bedside lamp next to him. He blinked slowly, trying to rid himself of the exhaustion that was trying to overtake him, his eyelids beginning to droop even as he continued to wrestle his daughter. 

Charlie shot her father a nasty glare, brows furrowed as she frowned deeply. The bright red spots that graced the chub of her cheeks lowered as her lips curled downward. They were one of the many features she shared with the pale man before her, including those soft, sun-kissed locks and snow-bathed skin. 

She also shared the same tired eyes that met hers sternly, but her mind was too active to allow her body those much-needed hours of rest. 

The rest her father, Lucifer Morningstar, also needed.

“I know you’re sleepy, sweetheart! Just lay still so daddy can get some shut-eye too, hm?”

“No!” Charlie whined, lips puckered in distraught as her strength began to wane. Why would she sleep when she could be playing with her stuffed goats instead?! It just wasn’t fair!

“Yes!” Lucifer commanded, before he growled softly and lifted a finger towards the small child, a glint of golden light lit on the tip of his claw as he pressed it softly against Charlie’s forehead. 

For a moment it flickered against her pale skin, and Lucifer removed his finger as Charlie froze at the sudden tingling sensation.

Her mouth was in the shape of a small o as she tried to get a look at whatever her father had placed on her, but the only clue in her vision was the twinkle of aurum light. A warmth began to seep into her skin, emanating from the magic blooming across her face.

Like a firework launching into the night sky, the tiny orb shot from her forehead up towards the ceiling, before it burst into a flurry of sparks that glimmered in the darkness, casting the walls with their vibrant hues.

The golden light danced above Charlie’s head, her eyes wide and in awe as the golden sparks began to melt into rippling waves that spiraled across the ceiling.

Lucifer flicked off the bedside light, the room darkening slightly as the magic above basked the room in a subtle warm glow as it pulsed rhythmically.

He still sat beside the bed, hand resting limply against Charlie’s chest as the interest in her eyes soon turned to sleepiness, and her eyelids began to droop.

Lucifer watched with a small smile as a magical display began to lull Charlie into sleep, and it only took a few more minutes before her face relaxed into a peaceful expression and her breathing swallowed.

Roughling rubbing a hand down his face with a sigh, Lucifer stood from the floor. His fuzzy pink robe drooped from his shoulders just enough to expose his bare, finely chiseled chest.

Quietly, he tip-toed across the bedroom, stepping over dolls, stuffed animals, and other trinkets that littered the floor. As long as he was careful, he wouldn’t risk waking the child.

Lucifer’s fingers wrapped around the door handle, before he waved his hand in the air, and the golden light dispersed, showering the room in shadows once more.

Cracking open the door just a tad, he slipped into the hallway. Lucifer’s back hit the door’s solid, oak frame as he exhaled a sigh of relief. The fallen angel felt like he could slide down onto the plush red carpet and hibernate right there, but he was the King of Hell, he had too much self-respect for that.

Raking a hand through his disheveled hair, Lucifer began to drag his feet down the hall, fatigue gnawing at his mind as he passed by the large paintings that hung upon the dark red walls, a perfect backdrop to the fair-skinned figures that posed elegantly inside the gold-framed portraits.

A man, his apple-red cheeks practically brushing against the edges of his face as he smiled brightly. A woman stood tall beside him, a dark purple dress hugging her curved figure as she posed regally. Her fingers entwined with her counterpart, their intimacy evident.

Lucifer would take that down, eventually. It only ever reminded him of painful memories, of that violet, sultry gaze through which she would send him as they basked in the warmth of the large fireplace in the large lounge in their castle. 

Wine glasses emptied again and again as the King listened to her gentle humming, her fingers laced with his as she pulled him closer. Her lips left wet, sloppy kisses against his chin. The faint trail of black lipstick as her mouth connected with his in a passionate embrace of body and soul, intertwined.

Lilith, the previous Queen of Hell. Lucifer’s ex-wife, Charlie’s mother.

How long had she been gone now? Lucifer knew the exact day, he practically memorized the minute and hour when she left. When Lilith had sent him one last look from the open front door, her gaze unreadable through the black shades on her face, her honey-colored hair flowing like water around her figure as the two lovers locked eyes for the final time.

“Goodbye, Lou,” Lilith had whispered, her voice like silk against his ears even in such an anguished moment. Strands of hair covered her features as she spoke, shielding her expression as she turned her head, her back facing the fallen angel as she stepped through the threshold. 

Out of his home, out of his world. 

And, Charlie’s too. It’s hard explaining to a child that their mommy went on a very, very long vacation. He’d have the courage to tell her… eventually. Except, that meant she might one day blame him, too.

What could Lilith have been feeling, happiness, sorrow, anger? Lucifer would never know, he had tried so desperately to even understand why she had left in the first place. Had there been signs? An argument of some kind he had forgotten? What had he done wrong, that his first love and the mother of his child, would leave him to care for Charlie and the realm, all alone?

It was Lilith who held most of the influence when it came to the lower-classed demons, her words and songs enlightening the residents of Hell, cultivating the realm like a garden as she watered the needy and uprooted those with dark intentions like invasive weeds.

To the people of Hell, Lucifer was the epitome of complete, ultimate power. The embodiment of pride, and the reminder of who would always have control. 

He was rarely seen in public, especially in his own Ring, full of the very demons he despised the most. Sure, he had his covers on magazines and face plastered all over LuLu World, but that was where it ended.

Instead, the King kept his duties strictly to those most loyal and most powerful. The rest of the Deadly Sins, the Ars Goetia family, and once in a while joining on an overlord meeting. 

As long as they understood who not to cross, the safety and security of his family would never be at risk, if one could even try and pose any threat to one of the first creations. The Morningstar that shone before Lilith, before Earth, before everything.

In all honesty, Lucifer didn’t really do… anything, when it came to his subjects. 

It was Lilith whose appearance was imprinted into the minds of her subjects through her many concerts and powerful political influence. It was she who had given them the confidence to defy Heaven, to stand against their exterminations that plagued the Pride Ring once a year.

Now, Lucifer was left to hold up face, to keep the realm from divulging into chaos, as the stability of the hierarchy of Hell slipped slowly and slowly through his fingers. No matter how many demons he could smite with the snap of his fingers, the sinful on Earth would always be sent to him as punishment, for the both of them. 

He needed to keep them all in line, as respectfully as possible.

Which meant Lucifer was alone to take care of Charlie, who was insanely active and needy for attention, like any demon her age. She couldn’t stay out of trouble, and Lucifer had to juggle her, his own volatile emotions that had been causing him to skip more and more meals, and the piling events that always filled his days this time of the year. 

The annual gatherings with the Ars Goetia that he had to attend symbiotically to keep their unwavering loyalty, the meetings to make sure the rest of the Sins were keeping their rings afloat, and flaunting a little bit of his power to the Overlords in Pentagram City that liked to stir trouble in his own ring.

Hell needed a future so that his daughter would have something to rule over when she came of age and wisdom. No matter how he tried to push the thoughts of his little girl growing up and leaving him, sooner or later, the fledgling would have to leave the nest.

Lucifer could see it, clear as day, his spirit and creative spark deep in her gaze when she listened to his many ideas and visions of what could have been and what surely will be. The way she giggled quietly as he presented her toys of his creation, her soft gaze looking at each little trinket with adoration and inspiration.

If she was anything like the man Lucifer used to be, that meant she would no doubt rebel against his views of Hell and his subjects, and that scared the King. 

Lucifer continued to pass more portraits, dimly lit by the warm glow of the wall lamps dotting the hallway. Pictures of his daughter, the other Sins, and the grand opening of LuLu World. The final portrait next to his bedroom door was a small painting, an almost-perfect recreation of the only Heavenly creation he still held close to his heart. 

The Morning Star.

The large ball of bright, white light illuminated against the oily-black backdrop that was also speckled with smaller, glittering stars. Some shone in vibrant, multi-colored hues that lit the painted night sky with a soft celestial light.

Except, none of those stars shone as bright as his star, the star specifically created for him by a face whose familiarity had been long lost in time. A face that still gnawed at the edge of his mind every time he stared at that painting, those long-buried memories slowly crawling from the depths of his soul.

Maybe, one day, he’d have the strength to remember.

When the door to his room was pushed open softly, Lucifer’s eyes hit the digital clock on his nightstand. It was one in the afternoon, and Charlie would only nap for a few hours before she awakened with renewed energy. 

The toddler has grown restless lately, anxious to see a new face, to take a peek outside of the confines of their large home. No matter how many magical displays Lucifer presented the child, she always grew bored, and that frown was becoming more permanent on her lips as the days passed.

It must be tiring waking up and practically seeing your reflection almost every minute of your day.

There was no one Lucifer could trust in the presence of his daughter, though. No one he could see fit enough to care for her, not even himself. He struggled, being a father, for his little apple pie.

Parenting was not easy, especially when you had no idea what you were doing. It was especially hard when you were too afraid to upset your daughter with stern words and an authoritative voice, which meant the toddler ran the house.

The most powerful being in Hell would have to put his foot down to his little girl… eventually. After this quick nap, maybe. 

The large bed, much too big for only one person, beckoned Lucifer with an irresistible invitation. His legs moved with renewed strength before he fell face flat into the soft, cool duvet that welcomed him kindly. His muscles relaxed instantly, his feet dangling limply from the end of the bed as he finally opened his mind to the idea of sleep.

Slowly, Lucifer’s consciousness began to ebb, and his snores echoed around the room as his mind stilled into blackness.

What he wasn’t aware of, as the fallen angel sunk deeper into the plush, red blankets, was that the small bed on the opposite side of the hall was empty. Its previous inhabitant was currently tottling towards the door to his workshop that had been slightly ajar just across from her bedroom.

With wide eyes, Charlie scanned the room as she poked her head through the crack in the doorway, her little button nose twitching as she drank in all the little knick-knacks and prototypes of fantastical ideas that would never see the light of day.

It was dimly lit, save for the faint red glow pouring in from the large circular window above the desk across the room. There was nothing of interest on its smooth, wooden surface to the tiny awe-struck eyes. Instead, it was the soft, chromatic light that caught her gaze on a low shelf right next door. 

Floating elegantly above a short, circular pedestal were seven glowing rings, stacked above each other a few inches apart with zero gravity. Each held a unique hue, from green to pink, as they lured Charlie with their ethereal glow. If she could lift her little body just slightly onto the chair against the desk, she could reach them. 

What could they be, so pretty just floating like that? They looked just like glow-stick necklaces! Would Daddy think she was pretty if she put them on and showed him?

With a large smile and slightly unsteady steps, Charlie crossed the room, her tiny feet pitter-pattering against the soft carpet as she beelined for the colorful display. When she reached the wooden chair, her chin barely grazed against the cushioned seating as she placed her palms gingerly against its plush surface.

With a mighty heave and a sharp inhale of breath, the toddler began kicking her legs wildly as she tried gaining momentum to hoist herself onto the chair. 

Charlie sputtered for breath as her grip loosened due to her sweaty palms, but then her leg hooked onto the seat railing, which gave her momentarily support to pull herself farther up until her knee grazed the top of the cushion. 

Placing one arm underneath her for support, the toddler reached the other out towards the ring. Her fingers splayed out, the whites of her eyes glowing red as they reflected the ring’s vibrant hue. 

Charlie held her breath, beginning to tip over just as her index finger grazed the very edge of the ring’s surface. Red energy shot down her spine, sending her hair to stick out with static 

The girl barely got a squeak in before she vanished in a burst of lightning that barely resonated a sound as it zapped her away. 

The red ring flickered once, faltering above the rest for only a moment, before it stilled into place.

And the room was empty once more.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀🤍🤍🤍

On the outskirts of the Pride Ring was a small, white villa nestled against a rocky cliff face, surrounded by tall, black fencing that ended in sharp, spiked ends. Purple magic sizzled off of the tips, a clear warning to anyone who wanted to enter: They would not be welcome.

Inside the powerful barrier, was a large garden filled with a surreal combination of beauty and decay. Vibrant flowers bloomed amidst twisted, blackened trees that seemed to reach out with gnarled branches like skeletal fingers. 

The floral scent that wafted from the blossoms permeated the air, mixed with the slight tinge of sulfur of Hell’s odor.  

Nestled among the dark purple bushes and other hellish flora, were tall snow-white sculptures of men and women, their stone eyes staring lifelessly across the garden’s expanse. 

A diverse cast of figures, short and brawny, too tall and lanky. Each unique from the rest.

Except, for their facial expressions, in which they each held a similar look of terror. As if they had been frozen in place during a time of anguish, of a terrifying encounter that left them to rot inside their pretty stone casks. 

They were positioned across the lawn in a perfect, meticulous manner. As if someone spent day in and day out holed up inside the black fencing, with nothing to do but continuously cultivate their blooming garden. 

One particular statue, which held the image of a goat-like man, staring up at the sky as if in one final prayer, was currently being inspected by a gracefully poised woman standing before it. Painted on his frozen cheek, was a small black lipstick-stained kiss.

From a distance, you’d think she was human. The silky, black dress that hugged her curves was reminiscent of ancient Greek fashion. Her shoulders were fully exposed, garment held up by a high neckline that tickled at her throat as she leisured, a glass of alcohol in her hand.

Her rich, deep brown skin stood out among the pearlescent, marble statues. Practically shimmering against the red hues that basked her home with the midday light. 

An ethereal radiance seemed to seep from her skin, giving her silhouette a faint, golden glow that made her skin shimmer like light on morning dew.

Her hairstyle was similar to a ponytail, a partial updo that sat at the top of her head like a bun, before the long, white locs cascaded down her back.Along with two large strands that framed the sides of her angled face.

The big differential between her and a woman strolling down the street? The horns that graced the top of her head. They curved to end just above her forehead, a black crown that cemented her place as another resident of Hell.

Travel a bit farther down her figure, and you’d find those large, white tendrils of hair that swished as she turned slightly had a funny texture to them that most would mistake for thick braids. 

Except, braids aren’t made of scales, are they? 

At her ankles, a multitude of snakeheads stuck out their tongues, tasting the air as their beady red eyes scanned across the grassy scape. 

They twisted around each other, curling into themselves to keep a tighter form as they wriggled against the woman’s back, interest peaked at their surroundings as their tongues flicked in and out.

Once in a while, a head would spot some small, hellish critter skittering across the yard looking for food. And, before one could blink, its jaws would open wide as it shot forward, pulling slightly at the woman’s scalp as it clamped its maw around the tiny creature.

It would slink back near her ankles, trying to gulp down the tasty delicacy as the other snakes around it poked and prodded for a taste. They hissed and snapped at one another, fighting for a morsel.

The woman turned her head, shooting the reptilian mass a glare as they wrapped around her legs. Milky white pools met multiple red, glowing eyes as they slunk back slightly at her scolding, giving time for the one snake to finish gobbling up his snack without fuss.

The two smaller serpents that framed her face weren’t as long as the rest of their siblings, instead reaching to her breasts as they lazily rested on the fabric of her dress. 

Tenderly, the woman lifted an arm, and her shorter serpent curled delicately around her hand, until its head rested gingerly on her palm. 

Gently, she brushed a thumb along its snout, and it hissed softly with pleasure, its eyes closing shut as it nestled farther into her warm skin.

“Jameson, another margarita, please.”

“Yes, Lady Kokabiel,” a small imp butler bowed, his cropped, curly white hair bouncing slightly as he lowered his head. 

Turning, the imp trotted towards a shaded area underneath a weeping willow tree, its low-hanging branches that grazed against his shoulders were dark red, shielding the large mixture of alcohol from the heat of the day as he poured another glass of the blue liquid.

When Jameson returned, Kokabiel handed him the empty glass before plucking the margarita from his grasp. She sent him an appreciative smile, her white freckles sparkling like starlight as they curved with her lips.

She swirled the alcohol in the glass, watching the small vortex for a few moments, before lifting it to her lips and taking a sip. 

That’s how Kokabiel spent most of her days in Hell, nowadays. Getting a buzz off of fruity liquor and fawning over her snakes, as she lounged in her garden with no one to bother her. 

It had been a long time since she left the spotlight, previously a fashion and sex icon, Kokabiel had flaunted her good looks and curves to promote all kinds of products and events, dominating the biggest runways. She even starred in a couple of A-list movies, growing her until she reached the peak of stardom.

Kokabiel had earned her place at the top of the pyramid, right next to many older, successful celebrities in the industry. Lilith was a big name, even bigger than Koko’s with how beautiful of a singer she was, pulling in fans like a siren with her honeyed voice. 

Even with such cutthroat competition, Kokabiel never felt that she was fading out of the audience’s vision with how fast her mailbox would fill with writings from her fans

Fanart, declarations of love written in sparkly pink ink, and invitations to large parties and prestigious events. Even now, she still received fan mail here or there, although they were usually left unanswered. 

She had never wanted to retire in the first place, her plans for the future only confining to grow bigger by the day. Until one night, during a party hosted by the overlords of the city, was Kokabiel confronted with an ultimatum. 

“I know your secret,” he had smiled devilishly. That flat-faced, know-it-all smirk the man sent her one evening, as he confronted her in the darkness of a hallway. 

“What secret?” Kokabiel laughed dryly, shooting him a question glare. 

“Oh, you know,” his pixelated eyes lifted to the darkened sky through the ceiling-high windows nearby, Heaven’s white glow cascading through the panes, “The one about where you really came from, not the Lust Ring lie you like to spin to the audience.” 

The alcoholic buzz in Kokabiel’s system faded in an instant, and her snakes coiled against her back, hissing loudly as she shot him a deathly glare. It had seemed he had chosen to give the news from a safe distance, too far for her snakes to reach. A smart man. 

How did he find out, and what did he plan to do with that information?

That smile of his had only widened further, giddy at the fact he had her in his grasp. He could pull the strings, keep her away from his industry. This secret, that he had only stumbled upon accidently, was going to make sure she stayed gone.

Kokabiel had never caused trouble, never flaunted her power to rise up Hell’s hierarchy, never made any public displays of how easily she could rip demon’s souls out of their bodies if they got too close. 

Nor did any demon claim to be owned by her, as they were too busy being decorative pieces to tell their tale. 

Kokabiel’s presence was a mystery to her powerful counterparts. Her aura was too clean, too ethereal to be a sinner or an average hellborn. But, she had never actually said the words ‘Yes, I’m from Heaven.’ 

She didn’t need to, anymore. After that little conversation, the talking TV had made a deal. Keep that pretty face away from the cameras, and his lips were sealed for eternity. 

Kokabiel had announced her retirement a day later, not answering a single question about why or where she was going. Those cameras and microphones that had gotten shoved in her face received no words as received hurried into her limo. 

How could Kokabiel, someone whose face was once plastered onto entire sides of buildings, fall so hard because of some up-and-coming overlord with the intent to control the masses? She’d had bigger spats with the paparazzi on the side of the street than this!

Now, she didn’t have to worry about those annoying flies anymore, with their constant flashes that always anguished her snakes and the peppering of questions.

Finally away from any prying eyes and those awful, bright flashes that plagued every step Kokabiel took out in public. Here, she could do and say anything, without someone waiting to jump at the opportunity to sell a shitty, non-contextual picture to the highest tabloid bidder.

Solitude gets boring, though. Even with her snakes to crawl over and her garden to tend, one could only vent to the marble figures for so long before they felt their sanity slipping.

That was until an imp had squeezed his way through the thick pickets of her fence, those short white curls singed at the tips from the magic that stung him. 

Whatever was chasing the small man was more dangerous as he continued to beeline toward the bushes that could shelter him.

The imp had turned his head, catching the sight of his pursuers as they reached the fence. Three burly, tall shark demons roared as his tiny frame sped off.

That only led him to meet horns first into the stomach of the owner of the fence, and the land he was currently trespassing on. With an oomph he landed on hit, gaze darting at the being standing above him.

Kokabiel had quirked a brow, unamused as she wiped the dirt from the front of her dress. It wasn’t until one shark demon rammed into the fence, did she lifted her head and a dark frown played on her lips. 

He had seen it, the power behind her gaze, when the loan sharks blew up one of her favorite rose bushes as they broke through the gates.

“How dare you,” she had hissed, her white gaze boring into the thugs, glowing with a much fiercer intensity as she bared her teeth, “Get out!” 

The imp had flinched, but Kokabiel’s anger was not directed at him as she stepped right above his quivering body, and he could feel the soft grazing of scales against his raised arms before he turned to watch the woman continue to meet the loan sharks halfway.

“Not without our little friend there,” one sneered, his teeth glinting as he gave the woman a silent warning of his strength.

“Unfortunate that you aren’t the one making the demands,” she retorted, putting herself between the sharks and their prey. 

With a loud, collective hiss, the bodies of her snakes lifted, encircling her head, and they opened their maws with extended fangs, displaying their own grim warning with bright red eyes.

The aggressor didn’t like that so much, as he opened he pulled out a large, glowing steel-laced ax and charged right for the duo. The imp squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the killing blow. 

The Kokabiel’s pupils shifted from that starlit glint into black pools of emptiness, and the air sizzled with a powerful energy right as the shark-faced man swung his weapon to connect with her shoulder. At the last moment, the fallen angel ducked and backpedaled, right as one of her snakes lashed forward, jaw wide to reveal twin, deadly fangs and struck the demon right in the eye. 

The scales of her snakes pulsed with a golden shimmer, and the demon’s mouth opened in a painful scream as his feet took on an ivory color, hardening to stone. 

The other sharks near him tensed, the rage on their faces instantly draining as their comrade's feet cemented to the ground, that stone plague creeping farther up his waist as he writhed in place, clutching his eye as black blood seeped from the large gash. 

They took a step back, then another, and another as the only blubber left on the struggling man was his large head. His teeth gnashed in mixture of anger and pain, but his good eye only showed fear, right as it was glazed over by white stone.

After that, the rest of the loan sharks had fled, huffing and puffing as they tumbled through the broken fence. 

Then, the snake that had bit the demon began to convulse, writhing with an open maw like it had something stuck in its throat as black blood from its victim landed on the grass below.

Like some hellish form of mitosis, the scales of the serpent began to stretch and split, revealing a mirrored version of the reptile that began to take form and separate from its twin. 

With wide eyes, the imp watched the two snakes finally , this new, fresh face shaking its head in confusion, before the rest of the scaly follicles began to surround and inspect their new friend with flicking tongues.

Kokabiel only watched the demons scurry off, before she sighed and adjusted her dress. Pivoting, she turned to face the imp, her arms crossed as she regarded him curiously. 

The scrawny demon gulped as he stared wide-eyed. Was he next?

“What’s your name?”

“W-what?” The imp replied hoarsely.

“Your name. You have one, don’t you?”

“it’s… Jameson, madam,” 

“Thank you, and I assume they’ll kill you if you try and go back into the city?”

Jameson nodded slowly, rising tentatively from the ground to look up at the woman. 

“Well, it seems you are out of options, Jameson,” Kokabeil had quirked a brow, a small smile on her lips, “but, it appears I’m in need of a butler. What do you say to free room and board in exchange for your services? I’ll let you keep your soul, I promise.” 

He had looked at her, suspicion in his gaze as his eyes darted to the snakes that coiled around her, shooting him hungry glares. How could someone with power like that be so… nice? If it were any overlord back in the city, they’d have taken his soul and his free will.

But, the offer didn’t sound too bad, and she didn’t look crazy. Just… lonely. Maybe, staying here would be so bad.

That’s how Jameson had begun working for the retired celebrity he now called master. Weirdly, he didn’t do many things a butler would do.

Sure, he cleaned and was at her beck and call most of the time, but Kokabiel did most of the things on her own. She cooked, tended to her garden which was slowly growing by the day, and kept up on the juicy rumors that circled the city. 

Usually, Jameson spent the day as entertainment for her. As an ex-clown in the circus, Jameson had a few tricks up his sleeve he’d showcase for the fallen angel, and she seemed to eat it up with amusement.

Kokabiel’s thoughts towards him? He wasn’t exactly sure. Obviously, she was much kinder to him than anyone else he’d worked for, but her zipped lips on anything related to her past or what kind of demon she was made him unsure.

There were times she got… sad. That was the best way to put it. Jameson never saw her cry or have a tantrum, but sometimes she’d get so sullen even her snakes seemed rather depressed.

And, once a year there was a day that Kokabiel would lock herself away in her room, and would not call for him at all the entire day. Not even for food to feed her snakes. What could make her so depressed for that one day? A lost loved one? Her death day, perhaps? 

She rarely mentioned her influential era as one of the largest fashion icons and models Hell had seen, although she didn’t need to with her collection of the seductive, sultry gazes she on the many ripped out pages of magazine covers she had framed on her walls. 

The few times he did go into the city, heavily disguised to run errands for Kokabiel, he’d pick up the newest tabloids or fill her ears with the latest gossip circling the entertainment industry.

“That’s what that old fart is up to now?” She had chuckled about an old acquaintance as she moisturized her snakes with a scale-safe lotion, “He used to be an A-list actor, and now he’s selling retinol cream? Ha!” 

The snakes had hissed with a chuckle-like sound, mirroring their mother as she coddled them. They still made Jameson nervous, even after all these years, they had a mind of their own, each individual one it appeared. But, they all seemed to have the same thoughts when it came to him: hungry.

Watching the snake finish its snack made Jameson a little uneasy as Kokabiel turned away from the statue and she took another sip of her drink.

“I’m getting tired, Jameson. I think I'm going to go inside, maybe take a nice, warm bath to relax.” 

“Would you like me to get the water heated?”

“No, thanks. I can do it myself.” She said, beginning to walk towards the patio doors. 

Jameson’s eyes flicked past her shoulder, at the very moment the statue began to sizzle with a powerful energy that even made his curls stand on end. 

Red sparks erupted from the front of the statue, right on the pedestal it was standing on which raised a few feet in the air. Jameson could only stare in disbelief as the sparks began to swirl like a vortex, until they burst and sprayed like confetti and a figure materialized an inch off the marble surface.

The tiny stranger landed with a quiet oomf, before she stood on her feet with a slight wobble, her little hands held out in front of her for balance. 

Jameson’s eyes flew open at the sight. It was a child! Her platinum-blonde hair disheveled, and her large eyes were darting around the area with confusion and fear. 

When her eyes landed on him, she took a tiny step back, her eyes growing wide as she stared nervously at the new face. 

“M-m-madam!” Jameson finally croaked, his finger pointed towards the girl with a slight quiver as he tried to get the words out. 

“What..?” Kokabiel quirked an eyebrow at his stammering figure. Jameson’s eyes never left the strange girl, and she slowly followed his gaze to the statue.

The toddler and the fallen angel locked eyes, before Kokabiel’s mouth fell open and she stood there silently for a few moments. Charlie’s eyes widened, and she pulled her arms to herself in comfort at the shocked faces.

“What…. is this?” Kokabiel finally spoke slowly, eyes trained on the little being standing awkwardly on the statue. Her snakes lifted their heads slightly, tongues flicking the air as they tried to get a scent of the girl.

“It’s a child, madam,” Jameson whispered.

“I know that! But, how did it get here? What’s the point of having a magical fence if everybody can just walk right through it?!”

“She didn’t get through the fence, madam!” Jameson squeaked, shaking his head furiously as he explained, “She just… appeared here, like out of thin air! I saw it all!”

How could that be possible? There’s no way a child could harness such strong magic. It must be some kind of illusion, trickery by a powerful demon trying to use her empathy to get the best of her!

“You!” Kokabiel pointed an accusatory finger at Charlie, taking a small step forward “How did you get in my garden?”

“Um…” Charlie started, but her words—of what little she had—died in her throat. She only took a step backward, trying to escape from the attention 

“You’re trespassing on private property!” Kokabiel continued to stalk forward, she was only a few feet away now, her snakes becoming antsy as they curled around her, hissing softly.

“Oh…”

“Who are you?” 

Charlie took another step back, her hair grazing the leg of the marble figure. Where was she? 

“…Char—eep!”

Charlie’s heel hit the foot of the statue, and she tripped, her back hitting its leg as she slid awkwardly sideways. Her tiny fingers grasped desperately at the smooth, white stone, but to no avail, as she tumbled right off the edge of the pedestal.

Jameson squeaked in terror, before throwing his hands over his eyes to protect him from any grisly sight. He heard Kokabiel gasp, but no sickening thump or terrible crack of bones meeting the firm ground.

Slowly, he splayed his fingers and lowered his hands, his eyes widening. He stood there gobsmacked at the scene, mouth agape in silence. 

Yes, Charlie had been unable to save herself, falling helplessly in the air…. right into the arms of a shocked Kokabiel. 

Kokabiel stared wide-eyed at her own reaction to the split second of instinct that propelled her to catch the child. Charlie was tightly secured in her hands, being held at arm's-length as far as possible. 

Charlie blinked, before her eyes met those glowing white pupils with a slowly growing smile. She had one hand wrapped around the wrist of the taller woman, as she lifted up her free hand and sent a small, shy wave.

“Hi!”

[art i commissioned for the chapter by ruspettaa]

woahhh nice little(ha!) introduction to my oc, with some cute art of charlie! If I were to ever continue writing this fic, the relationship would be more focused on charlies than lucifers, at least at first. Slow-burn/co-parenting kinda thing bc Koko can def exist without being a relationship with our handsome king. she’s sipping margaritas free as a bird rn.

kokabiel is a loosely based version of the biblical figure with the same name who created the stars and constellations. One of the reasons she fell was for teaching humanity astronomy. A few others fell with her too, but she instead melded into demon society instead of her heavenly counterparts.

the only people that know of her true identity are Hell’s royalty, and Stolas probably has a signed autograph of hers somewhere around his office seeing as his duties are closely bound with her creations.

she’s a business woman too, though i am trying to figure out whether she sells snake-skinned accessories as a fashion line or diluted venom that’s a psychedelic drug which makes you feel all euphoric and stuff. l

I also have no idea who her voice claim is 😭 i imagine it being smooth and buttery like Beyoncé, but i’m sure there’s other voices similar to hers that I haven’t found yet.

i’ve got a comm [by wkyarts51243] in the works that will be styled closer to the show, so here’s a sneak peak i guess ☠️ I’d say her height is slightly shorter than charlie (not counting her horns lol), but I haven’t settled yet.

i have more art (one of her and luci hehe), which i might share either. but you can have the full version of the first art pic, with an extra piece from the same artist 🤭

also making this post so i can cement her backstory and stop changing it up ☠️ it’s its writing officially now yall

anyway, enough rambling, back to writing!! have a great weekend 🤍

#kokabiel 🤍 #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #helluva boss oc #look at her so yummy #a literal goddess #hazbin hotel au #hellaverse #lucifer morningstar x oc #that one fic forgot #yes her snakes are souls #they have the same personality as before but cuter

[dragonflylady77]

i got you a whole flower shop

A Harringrove Valentine's Day fic I wrote this afternoon

present for @shieldofiron and also @lovebillyhargrove

oh and it's on ao3

Steve walks into a florist shop on Valentine's Day but his plans change after he gets a text not meant for him and he finds himself faced with Billy freaking Hargrove looking like every wet dream Steve has ever had in the past fifteen years since he finished high school.

“Sorry, I’ll be right with you.”

Steve made a vague noise of acknowledgement, too busy staring at the message he’d opened as he’d stepped into the first flower shop he’d spotted.

“Can’t wait to see you tonight baby. I’ll tell Steve I have to work late. Love you x”

He blinked a few times but the words didn’t change. The text was clearly not meant for him. Or maybe it was, he rationalised. That was one way to break up with your boyfriend without having to have the conversation.

He ran a tired hand over his face and put his phone back in his pocket. He wouldn’t need flowers after all. He tried to remember how much stuff he’d left at Jamie’s place during the few months they’d been dating and wondered if there was anything he’d miss if he didn’t get it back.

“I am sorry but it turns out I don’t actually need flowers after all,” he said, his eyes floating over the various buckets of colourful blooms in front of him.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” The voice sounded surprised and familiar and Steve turned around to face its owner.

“Hargrove?” Steve said in shock, stepping closer to the counter. He hadn’t seen Billy Hargrove since graduation fifteen years ago. “What are you doing in Chicago? I always thought you went back to Cali…”

Billy shrugged and Steve took a moment to really look at him. He still had those light brown, almost golden, curls that Steve had always wanted to run his fingers through, piled high in a bun, his face fuzzy with scruff, blue eyes trained on Steve. That part at least was familiar. Steve let his eyes move down, taking in the white tee, tight across the front under the black apron with the shop’s logo on it, Billy’s biceps bulging when he crossed his arms over his chest. Steve’s mouth felt very dry all of a sudden and hoo, was it always this hot in this store?

Billy raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He did, however, run that tongue of his along his bottom lip, another familiar sight, one that resonated inside Steve’s chest, in a place he’d been ignoring for years.

“Um, sorry, didn’t mean to…” Steve fumbled, fidgeting with his fingers. Fuck. He was being so awkward for no reason. He was usually a little bit better at human interactions.

“It’s okay, pretty boy, I know my good looks can be distracting,” Billy replied with a chuckle and Steve felt his face heat up. “To answer your question, my car broke down outside of St Louis and I realised I’d been kidding myself. There was nothing in Cali for me anymore. And I couldn’t leave Max alone with Neil.”

“Ah. I-I heard about him but Max never said—”

“I told her to keep a secret. Couldn’t risk Neil finding out. I made it back to Indianapolis on the Greyhound. Met a nice lady on the bus who offered me a place to stay for a while. Worked my ass off in a bunch of different jobs. Mona and her partner kinda adopted me, so when they moved to Chicago, I followed.”

“That’s why Max went to college in Chicago, isn’t it? Because you were there too?” Steve asked, a few things making more sense now that he knew about Billy.

“Yep. Got her out of the dorms too. She loved it at Mona’s as much as I did.”

Steve smiled. He was glad that Billy and Max had gotten away from his asshole father. He had only managed it himself recently, after more than a decade of working for his dad, being belittled every time Richard Harrington was in the office, no matter how good Steve actually was at doing his job. He’d jumped at the chance when he’d seen that job listing in Chicago and he’d cherished forever the memory on his father’s face when he’d handed in his resignation.

“That’s great, Billy,” he finally replied, and meant it.

“What about you, princess? What brings you to the Windy City?” 

“Oh, I live here too. Been here about three years, I think. I don’t have to tell you how good it felt to be able to tell my dad I was leaving and he could shove it.”

“Ooooh, go Stevie! Always knew you had it in you.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Took me twelve years but I got there in the end…”

“That’s what matters.” Billy grinned. “So, what are you after? Roses for your girl, on account of the day? Or something more original?”

“Oh, um, I, um…” Steve sighed. “I was gonna get flowers for my boyfriend, but after the text I got before, I don’t think I will.”

“Boyfriend?” Billy was staring and Steve realised he probably needed to elaborate a little.

“Yeah… My best friend Robin helped me realise some important things about myself after high school. She made being queer in Hawkins a lot easier. We were flatmates for ages then she moved to Chicago to be with her girlfriend. You know her, actually, Heather? Holloway?”

“Oh. Wow. Yeah, I remember Heather. So you’re…”

“Bi. Yeah.”

“And you have a boyfriend.” The way Billy said it, it wasn’t a question.

It left a bad taste in Steve’s mouth. He got his phone out of his pocket again and sent Jamie a text saying they were over.

“I had a boyfriend.” Steve snorted. “Whoever he meant to text when he texted me can have his cheating ass.”

“You don’t seem too cut up about it,” Billy said, his eyes roaming over Steve and Steve found that he liked it. All at once, memories of basketball training and all the posturing and looks Billy would send him in the showers and hallways of Hawkins High took on a different flavour. All the pet names Billy used to call him when they were teenagers… the same ones he’d used a couple of times in the past ten minutes they’d been chatting.

“I’d only been seeing him for a couple of months, wasn’t anything serious.” Steve decided to take a chance. He crossed his arms and leaned forward on the counter. “It does mean I am now free tonight…”

Billy mirrored his actions, the smile on his face genuine and warm. “Is that so, pretty boy?”

“Uh huh… yanno, in case anyone was wondering.”

“That’s certainly pertinent information.”

“I thought so.” Steve leaned a little closer, smiling when Billy did too. “What time does this fine establishment close?”

“Right now,” Billy replied, without a glance at his watch as he removed his apron and set it on the counter next to them.

“Really? Won’t you get in trouble with your boss for closing early on Valentine’s Day?”

“I’m the boss and I have a hot date,” Billy said with that smirk that had always made Steve’s blood boil. Only now he could name that emotion for what it was: lust. There was something else in Billy’s eyes, something more magical and durable.

“Anyone I know?” Steve asked, his heart beating double time in his chest.

Billy didn’t reply, instead he rounded the counter and came to a stop in front of Steve with a grin. He cupped Steve’s face with both hands and breached the last inches separating them, bringing their mouths together. Steve moaned, his hands on Billy’s wrists to hold him there. He opened his lips to Billy’s questing tongue the second he felt it, pouring all that he was feeling into the kiss, and getting it back ten fold.

Steve let go of Billy’s wrists to grab his waist and dragged him closer. He couldn’t get enough of Billy, hands roaming up his back and down to cup that ass Steve had been dreaming about for months after high school, sparking his bi awakening.

“Fuck, Billy, I’m sorry it took me so long to find you again,” Steve said, breaking the kiss to catch his breath, resting his forehead against Billy’s.

“S’okay, Stevie, you’re here now,” Billy said, dipping his head for a quick kiss. He buried his fingers into Steve’s hair and locked eyes with him. “Never letting you go now I’ve got you, though, I hope you know that.”

“Fine with me,” Steve said as he wrapped his arms around Billy’s middle, delighted to feel Billy’s hard body against his. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve. I don't know what flowers you like yet, so I got you a whole flower shop.”

Steve laughed as Billy locked up for the night then they went up to the apartment Billy was renting above the shop where Billy cooked them dinner. Then they spent all night in bed, worshipping each other, and it was the best Valentine’s Day Steve had ever had.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #dragonflylady77 #valentine's day #florist billy hargrove

[eleanor-bradstreet]

The Palace

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett Rated: 18+, explicit sexual content Word count: 3.6k

Summary: Benedict makes Sophie’s first royal event one to remember.

Author’s Note: Happy Queen Charlotte release day! Here’s some smut to celebrate 😜 No spoilers for the show in this fic, just some royal-adjacent horny nonsense. This is also my belated birthday gift to @queen-of-the-misfit-toys Enjoy our boy and his talented hands, my dear 💙

Sophie needed a moment to breathe. Between the glare of the sun, the tightness of her stays and the dizzying array of new faces, her head was beginning to spin. Happily, the reception party was spread across both the gardens and two floors of St. James’s Palace, offering plenty of quiet corners where she could rest. Leaving Benedict in conversation with Anthony, she picked her way up to a room on the second floor. Despite its towering ceilings and the endless stretches of halls that winged away from its massive doors, the tapestries within made it feel marginally warmer than the throne and ballrooms below. A bouquet of purple blooms perched on a low table in front of the windows and she stood by it, trying to steady herself as she watched the members of court mingle in the gardens.

It was Hyacinth’s presentation day, but Benedict had wasted no opportunity to remind Sophie that it served as her presentation too. The first year of their marriage had been spent blissfully in the countryside but now she and the whole of the Bridgerton clan had agreed that it was time for her to appear in the London season. Everyone was well rehearsed in Sophie’s backstory if need be. The explanation that she was a distant cousin of the late Earl of Penwood had been carefully worded by Anthony and Violet. All members of the family were instructed to alert them if anyone probed too insistently. They all hoped it wouldn’t cause too much speculation for the second-born Bridgerton son to reemerge from a long absence with a wife in tow, but the ton were fickle and always desperate for gossip.

The morning ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Hyacinth had walked serenely to the Queen, though her family could tell she was fighting to suppress giggles the entire time. Sophie had managed to blend into the sea of ladies in ivory dresses with no one taking notice of her until the reception party began in the garden. Anthony had circled her like a hawk, glowering more than usual at each person she and Benedict spoke to and he only moved away when the attendees queued to greet the Queen. Sophie was buzzing with anxiety, her mind roaring as Benedict guided her forward and introduced her. Somehow she had remembered to curtsy properly and to smile. She had said something that made the Queen laugh but couldn’t remember what, then she had turned away, dazed. Benedict brought her back to herself with a tight squeeze of her hand and an encouraging smile before they separated to mingle.

Now the enormity of the day was weighing on her and Sophie needed this reprieve. How she found herself here, barely a year after selling her hair to a wigmaker and cleaning out chamberpots, was still a turn of events she couldn’t fully believe. As she leaned against the table and enjoyed the fragrance of the flowers, Benedict entered the room behind her. She knew it was him even before the press of warm lips against her neck. She could always sense when he was nearby, attuned to him like the change in pressure before a storm. Her skin would prickle and her mind would calm, steadied by the proximity of her anchor in this new life.

His hands banded around her waist as he pressed himself to her back, murmuring into the slope of her shoulder. “What do you think, my love? Your first royal event.”

Sophie smiled, grateful for the familiar comfort of his arms. “It is breathtaking. I could never have dreamed I would find myself here. Introduced to the Queen of England. Do you think she believed our story? Do you think she knows I don’t really belong?”

Benedict gently turned her chin back to face him with a gloved hand. His brow was creased. “You do belong here. As much as anyone. You are my wife and the daughter of an Earl. I never want you doubting yourself.” His insistent tone reverberated into her back, leaving no space for her heart or mind to argue. “I think she believed us but even if she didn’t, she clearly doesn’t care. You fit in here. Somehow, you manage to fit perfectly everywhere.” The fingers on her chin moved to stroke her cheek. “In our little country cottage, or in these grand halls, looking like a veritable princess.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips and she sank against him, fighting the tears that his words stirred within her.

“I love you so much, Benedict,” she whispered. “You’ll never know how much.”

He tightened his hold, hands splaying across her ribs. “And I love you, darling. You are my entire heart. My whole world.” He paused and let his eyes stray across her decolletage, highly pronounced thanks to the incomparable structure of her court dress. “This may be the most striking dress I’ve ever seen you in. I can’t deny that it has sent my mind in all kinds of…enticing directions.”

The crooked grin that followed was a warning shot.

Sophie sighed, turning back to the windows. “Ben, we really can’t.”

“We won’t.” His mock indignation was completely undermined by the low pitch his voice sank into. His hands traced down to grasp her hips and he pressed himself firmly into her backside, pinning her between him and the table. His words ghosted warm next to her ear, a devastating purr. “We aren’t doing anything. We are just standing, a husband and wife, quietly taking in the view.” 

That’s when he pushed her hips forward ever so slightly, nearly imperceptible, but enough for her to realize that the table was at precisely the right height to strike her where sensation would bloom. She let out a small gasp.

Undeterred, Benedict continued. “We are surveying the grounds…” He nudged her against the table edge again. “The people.” Again.

Sophie took a shuddering breath, already knowing she would be helpless against the tingling wave he was building within her. Sometimes she wondered if she had married the devil himself. How dare he act so brazenly in public and in a royal palace no less? But she knew, of course, that it was precisely within Benedict Bridgerton’s nature to do such a thing. And God help her, it was one of the reasons she was so hopelessly in love with him. 

Perhaps they could do this undetected. The doors behind them were too heavy to close and they could be seen by anyone passing in the hall, but this corner of the upper floor seemed deserted. And if they were, as Benedict said, just a husband and wife standing by the window, rocking with such small movements, perhaps no one would know what was happening even if they were discovered. Benedict understood her body so well and was rubbing her into the table at such a precise angle, she knew she could finish quickly. A small burst of pleasure would no doubt help ease her nerves, which she surmised was part of his motivation.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her composure. “They are stunning.”

“Yes, they are.” He rumbled low in her ear, his hands tight on her hips, guiding her back and forth, grinding her into the sloped angle of the wood. “The peacocks in particular are an excellent touch, are they not?” With that, he surged his hips into her and Sophie groaned quietly at the stiff length she felt pressing into the cleft of her bottom. 

“Yes…” She gasped, eyes fluttering closed as all her focus narrowed to the heat between her thighs and the crush of him behind her.

“Keep your eyes on everyone out there.” Benedict tutted and she obeyed, bracing herself with palms pressed into the tabletop and gaze locked on the oblivious crowds below. 

He had found a steady rhythm, pushing her forward with his body and hands, thrusting her against the table with small movements that sent spikes of desire shooting through her blood. Over and over with mechanical precision he maneuvered her in chasing pleasure, the slight quiver of the flowers beside them the only indicator to any passersby that something untoward was happening. 

Benedict’s tone was quiet but with an undeniably gruff edge. “I want you to remember this moment. That you are in a palace, looking down on all the ton. You are regal Sophie. You were so marvelous speaking to Her Majesty. I was so proud to show her that I had married the most gorgeous woman in England. A woman that far outshines any of her Diamonds. With more strength and fortitude than they could ever muster. She may be the Queen, but I am certainly the richer of us both.”

Sophie gripped the table and stared, entranced as Benedict set her body and mind alight. His potent blend of arousal and affirmation drilled home the truth of his words. She did belong. She was special. Powerful even. A Bridgerton with a handsome husband on her arm and a formidable family to support her. She wore the same fine fabrics as the ladies in the sunlit hedgerows below and had received the same invitation to be feted by the Queen herself. Sophie Beckett the maid was no longer. Sophia Bridgerton had taken her place and was being ravished in a palace above the heads of the ton by a man they all respected and desired.

When his mouth opened hot on her neck to graze it with his teeth Sophie moaned aloud, unable to restrain herself. He had worked her into a state, humming with arousal, her womanhood engorged and soaking. She was burning and lightheaded and knew that she had more than the strictures of her dress to blame. While his movements made the wave of lust swell within her body, his words made her longing for him swell within her heart. She needed his mouth on hers, his skin on hers. It was the only way she would crest the wave and in that moment, everything else could be damned.

“Ben,” She spun around to face him and crashed her mouth to his, drinking in the taste of him as she tugged off his gloves. He let her do as she wished, sliding his tongue to map the circumference of her lips as she pulled his hand up and under her skirt. Caged though her breasts and consequently her lungs may be, her lower undergarments were still easy to bypass and Sophie was aching for her husband’s fingers.

Benedict paused, face lighting with mischief as he gave her a lopsided smile. “Anyone could see us.” 

As if confirming her commitment to impropriety, Sophie smirked and hopped backward to sit on the table, wrapping her arms across his broad shoulders. “Good. Let them watch.”

With something like a snarl, his eyes darkened and he dipped his head to suck at the delicate skin beneath her ear. The hand under her skirt began to quest through the layers of fabric. “You hoping to make them jealous?”

“Yes,” She breathed, leaning her head back and reveling in the pattern he traced with his tongue.

“You want them all to see you getting finger fucked at their stuffy soiree?” His voice rumbled low in his chest as his fingers found her wet heat and brushed gently over her opening.

“Desperately,” She shuddered, breathing heavier as she shot another glance out the window. “I want them to know that I’m yours.”

With no preamble Benedict covered her throbbing center with the whole of his hand, cupping her possessively. He pulled back to meet her eyes. Gone was the sweet, gentle artist, replaced by an imposing seducer who looked about ready to devour her.

“This is mine is it then, darling?” He smiled wolfishly.

“Yes,” Sophie gaped, heart pounding. Only once she confirmed it did his hand start moving, fingers sliding through the slickness he had caused as his palm ground against her pubic bone, giving her the pressure she loved. 

He wrapped the fingers of his other hand gently around her neck. Not hard enough to restrict her breath, just enough to hold her in place. His thumb traced languidly over the ridges of her throat above the tiers of pearls that he had gifted her for the occasion.

“And those lips…” He bent and sucked on the lower one, nibbling it before pulling away. “They are mine?”

“Yes,” Sophie’s eyes closed, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. She was growing dizzy with the intensity of the moment. His dominating play made her giddy enough but to unleash it when they were in public and at risk of being caught…it made her lose her senses.

His hand beneath her skirts shifted, aligning the pad of his thumb on her swollen clit precisely where she had shown him she liked to be touched. Then he began rubbing in skillful circles. Two more fingers pressed inside her and slid firmly in and out, probing with clear intention. Sophie hissed, her stomach clenching like a fist, nails digging into his wrist. Her nerves began to sing, the wave rising under his ministrations. This was precisely what she needed.

Benedict trailed open-mouthed kisses over her exposed skin, licking along the neckline of her dress.

“The whole of this incredible woman. She is mine. And how she dazzles. In silks. In satins. In nothing at all. Am I not the luckiest man alive to be tasked with serving her? Pleasuring her.”  

His voice was dusky against her flesh and punctuated by her moan when he bit lightly into the swell of her breast. His long fingers continued to tease and swirl, pumping into her and coaxing her to release. Sophie felt her nipples harden as her body relented, lost to any way he wanted to command it, trusting him to bring her to heights she could never accomplish herself. She hooked her ankles around the back of his calves, pulling him closer between her thighs, needing the heat of him to mingle with the one he stoked in her. Clutching one another, they were nearly inert save for the talented movements of Benedict’s hand beneath her skirts. The only sounds in the room were the light rustle of fabric and Sophie’s small, pleasured breaths. 

Sophie clung to his wrist, the pounding blood in her ears drowning out every sense but touch. The expert flick of his thumb against her nerves that caused her stomach to knot delightfully. The glide of his reach inside her, petting the spots that made her clench and evoking memories of his cock and its steady pace that ratcheted her to delirium. All of it heightened by his hold on her neck, the ownership he claimed over the fluttering breaths he was forcing out of her. In these moments her body was his, because she knew that his heart would always be hers.

Benedict marveled at the beauty of his wife lost in the throes of pleasure, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes hazy, fingers flexing each time he pressed against her sweetest spot, right under her clitoral hood. He reveled in her flushed skin and needy noises, the bobbing of her throat beneath his fingers. He would never tire of making her feel this way. In fact, he longed to draw it out, leave her breathless and screaming for release, soaking his hand as he made her come over and over until her knees faltered. But they didn’t have the luxury of time. So he focused his movements, small but incendiary, on the most sensitive parts of her. He grinned, noting how her hips had started to rock, pushing herself down onto his fingers as much as he was pushing up into her. He leaned to her ear and whispered. 

“That’s it. You’re beautiful, so beautiful my love.” His lips returned to her neck, nibbling around the elaborate necklace, his breath gusting hot across her skin. “I love to see you choked with my pearls.”

Her whole body stiffened, his words driving her higher. “I prefer your hands.” She rasped, managing to arch a coquettish brow. 

The responding gleam in his steely eyes was precisely what she had been hoping for. Spurred on, Benedict tightened his grip, starting to slightly constrict her windpipe as his fingers increased their speed and pressure, pounding into her and teasing her nub viciously.

“I’m glad to hear that, darling.” He growled. “You are radiant with all manner of things around your neck.” He sucked at her collarbone before moving back to her lips, kissing her between each honeyed word of praise. “Priceless. My wife. My queen.”

Sophie could hear how wet she was as he worked her sex relentlessly. The cadence of his fingers was making her delirious. The warm, delicious tingle radiating from his touch was flooding over her. She knew she was approaching the end. 

“Don’t…be treasonous…”

He chuckled darkly. “I can revere whomever I want to behind closed doors. Would you want that? For me to kneel before you tonight?”

Sophie’s eyes blazed, enticed by his offer. They had played that way before, Benedict submitting to her wishes, and it always set a fire in her belly. She envisioned him naked, kneeling before her on the floor of their bedroom, skin glowing in firelight that etched the outlines of his muscles and betrayed the leaking of his eager cock. She could hook her leg over his shoulder and command him to feast upon her until neither of them could breathe. She could sink her hands into the waves of his dark hair and press him into her body, riding him mercilessly to her bliss. 

It was this imagery that caused her to break, thighs quaking as she bucked against him. Benedict could feel her quiver inside. Throwing her head back, she started to moan his name but he cut her off quickly with a gentle squeeze of her throat.

“Shhh. Don’t scream my name or you’ll give us away.” His eyes were hungry as he continued rubbing her furiously, rocking his hand in and out of her. “Just come for me.” 

He felt her hold her breath, then the rippling spasms started to dance down the length of his fingers. She froze, rigid, gripping onto his wrist for dear life. 

“That’s it. Come all over my hand.” He goaded through gritted teeth. “Then we’re going to walk out of here as if you aren’t drenched.”

He coaxed more out of her, slowing and curling his strokes as the pulsing continued, fanning out through her body, causing her to jerk. Sophie’s mind floated as the wave washed over her, its epicenter under his fingertips.

Benedict released her throat and held her close in the breathless moments as she shuddered with aftershocks. He withdrew his other hand and Sophie opened her eyes to find him sucking decadently at his fingers, relishing her taste. Lightheaded, she gently palmed the prominent tent in his breeches.

“What about you?”

Benedict smirked. “If etiquette didn’t require me to be in breeches and hose, maybe. But I’ll show you when we get home what an ordeal they are to remove. Let’s just wait a moment, my love. I will be fine.”

She laughed, the room beginning to orient itself around her again, gravity falling back into place.

“Perhaps the dress code was established for precisely that reason.”

—

An hour later at the close of the reception, Benedict and Sophie were turning to walk out through the gardens when they halted at the sight of the Queen approaching, closely followed by her man Brimsley. Sophie’s mind began to whir. She had been so blissful in the wake of their rendezvous that guilt had not settled on her thoughts as it perhaps should have. But now, reminded of precisely whose home she had defiled, she was filled with shame and could only pray that Her Majesty didn’t know the scandalous truth.

Queen Charlotte strode to them directly and they stepped apart, inclining their heads as they bowed and curtsied deeply.

The Queen fixed her eyes on Benedict. “Mr. Bridgerton. So glad you could join us when I have seen you at so few of my events.” She pursed her lips. “Though, I’m sure you are busy with your work. My nephew Friedrich has commissioned you for his official portrait, has he not?”

A bit stunned, Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has, your Majesty. An honor that I gladly accepted.”

“Very good. I’ll wait for his assessment and then see if we cannot use another portraitist for my family.” Her eyes scanned him up and down, scrutinizing though he was not sure for what. With the quirk of a smile, she continued. “We are always looking for those with creativity and…discretion.”

Gobsmacked, Benedict’s face lit up as he bowed again. “Your Majesty.”

Before she departed, the Queen pivoted to Sophie with the same small, enigmatic smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

Sophie nearly stumbled in her rush to curtsy again, overwhelmed by the entire exchange. Rising, she saw the Queen was gone but Brimsley had lingered and was staring at her pointedly. With a quick gesture he motioned toward her neckline. To her horror, she looked down to see bruising teeth marks on her breast peeking just above her bodice. She scrambled to conceal it and looked back at the Queen’s Man, blushing crimson. She did not know whether to feel relief or mortification as he shot her a wry smile, winked, then turned and caught up to the Queen, five paces behind as always.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #sophie beckett fanfiction #benophie fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benophie smut #bridgerton smut #queen charlotte

[cleolinda]

Weekend Links, March 17, 2024

My posts

We have had another Trespasser Weirdness Incident at my house, so. Suffice it to say that the Hot & Vintage Movie Women tournament is my primary coping mechanism at this point, and bless @hotvintagepoll for all their work. All 257 polls are up, although many of them have already closed on a rolling basis these last two weeks. Hedy Lamarr vs Sonja Henie was the very last one, and it is a blowout like I have not seen since the time I asked if people throw away their movie theater trash. I think round 2 starts a week from Monday? I would like to apologize for reblogging every single poll, except that I’m not the least bit sorry. 

I posted propaganda several times--sometimes just because a contestant didn’t have much and I wanted to chip in (still in play: Juanita Moore and Martha Sleeper). But I also showed up specifically for Norma Shearer, Claire Bloom, Tallulah Bankhead, Deborah Kerr, a little bit for Joan Fontaine (poll here), Julie Christie (on my mom’s behalf), Gene Tierney, Paulette Goddard, and Ava Gardner. My loyalties will shift as we see who progresses, but I'm wearing the Ava jersey at this point.

Reblogs of interest

A couple of serious links:

The Jewish filmmakers who won an Oscar for The Zone of Interest, a Holocaust film, used their speech time to condemn what’s happening in Gaza. (It helps to read the quote as “as men who refute {their Jewishness and the Holocaust} being used as justification.” “Refute their Jewishness” jumps out weirdly at first glance and confused people.)

I can’t tell if the JKR defender/Holocaust denier in this ask knows they’re lying or just really didn’t know that transgender health books and surgery did, in fact, exist, and that the Nazis targeted them. If you need photographic evidence for future discussions, here you are. Side note: Don't believe everything your favorite childhood author tells you.

Posts that are not serious links or hot lady polls:

Of course, this week we celebrated the Ides of March. (Happy birthday to... Chocolate Guy Amaury Guichon??) Featuring:

Southern Mark Antony

If Mark Antony was Gen Z

“Oh not you as well, Brutus!”

Also, happy birthday this fine St. Patrick’s Day to Hozier, who was on the Wiggles once, and has a new EP coming out this Friday. Please join me in not being the least bit normal about it. 

The bredlik that the Fairy vs. Walrus debate needed

“Started tone matching my Iraqi corner store guy,” bless everyone involved

A fanfic summary that will hit you like a brick to the face

“Intrigue, Ink, and Drama Grip the Fountain Pen Community”

The Arthur Conan Doyle approach to fic comments

The Kate Middleton Mysteries (”The extent to which this is not Philip Marlowe’s problem is unbelievable”)

Noted power couple/chaos elementals Merchant Ivory

Help improving color in your art

Doggust 2023: the art of Jonathan Wesslund  

Video

Honestly the best part of “I’m Just Ken” at the Oscars for me is Margot Robbie fighting for her life not to laugh

This domino project is honestly really upsetting to me, lmao (THE TIME IT MUST HAVE TAKEN!!)

Death: the bees told her

Puma chirps

A seal’s relaxing ice bath

The sacred texts

The reason we celebrate the Ides of March on Tumblr

Happy birthday to the Old as Balls gifset

A cat’s dating profile

Personal tag of the week

pixel art, because there are some incredible artists on here.

#weekend links #odds and ends #linkspam #special tags for: #holocaust denial #jk rowling #book burning

[strawberryfairi]

Hello girl!! I love the stuff you write, it’s so immersing and fun to read,

To start off, how about JJK men and where they’d take you on a first date! Maybe also if they fumble or not? Or something along the lines of that if you’d like!

Note🧚🏾‍♀️: Omg hey🙋🏾‍♀️ that is so so sweet, thank you so much🥹!! I really appreciate that 'cause sometimes I be like dang, is my writing ass🧍🏾‍♀️🤡💀?? Lol but anywaaaayssssss...I decided to go and try the short fic kind of route for these so they'll be on the longer side, therefore I'm gonna make it a multipart thing! (P.S. Lmk also if the short fic version gave as opposed to the just straight bullet point thoughts)

JJK + First Date Headcanons

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

CHOSO KAMO ʚ🌹ɞ

Choso, being new to the dating world and not having really anyone to go to for advice on this particular field, chooses what he believes is the smart way to go....to the internet. There's so many articles, Youtube videos, and even movies that discuss the topic of "The Perfect First Date". The options are overwhelming, yet there's one idea that really catches his eye.

It's a Saturday, just hitting around twelve in the afternoon, and Choso is right on time just as he said he'd be. He's at your door, dressed in a black- fairly loose fitted- button up top, with acid wash black ripped jeans. His hair is in his signature style, the two spiky buns that you absolutely adore on him. You could smell the subtle hint of cologne on him, a very earthy and mellow fragrance that seemed to match his overall personality well. It was highly attractive.

He looks so nervous, and honestly, a huge part of you was relieved as you were shaking in your own boots as well.

"H-hey" He stammers cutely, "You ready to go?"

A sweet smile etches it's way across your glossy lips, "Yeah, I'm ready!"

He extends his right arm, allowing for you to link yours with him as he takes you to his car out front of your place. "You look beautiful by the way;...as always." He compliments with a faint dusty pink hue across his pale cheeks.

"Thank you. You look great as well; as always." You chuckle lightly, feeling your own cheeks heat up right along with him.

The drive isn't too long, and you figure out exactly where he's taking you as he pulls up to a beautiful looking arboretum parking lot, in the outskirts of Tokyo. You let out a soft gasp, heart warming at his choice in date destination.

"Oh wow, Choso this looks so beautiful already!" You beam excitedly, staring out the window in a rather childlike way as he puts the car in car.

"I'm glad you think so. I was so nervous you wouldn't like it." He admits with a timid chuckle. He gets out of the car, then comes around to give you a hand as you step out. You watch as he goes to the back seat, taking out a large blanket along with a basket that you hadn't even noticed. As if his idea couldn't get any sweeter. You feel your heart swell with warmth, watching as a happy, wide smile plasters itself across his adorable face.

"Ok..." Choso nods, grabbing your hand gently and leading you past the tall, black metal gates.

He chose such a perfect time of year as well, mid spring, when all the flowers have bloomed and the trees are full of lively colored leaves. The scent of all the flowers fill the air, being carried around by the soft breeze. You spot plum blossoms, cherry blossoms, camellias, and even lavender. Choso practically follows you around like a lost puppy, taking in all your explanations of each flower and how you love their shape and color. Even he can't help but squat down and gently touch some of their soft petals.

Finally, the pair of you reach the main event of the whole arboretum, a small stream with a beautiful, traditional looking red bridge in the center of a field. Beautiful lines of cherry blossom trees surround the area, and patches of flowers grow along the bank of the stream.

Choso sets the blanket down while you smoothen it out along the grass, and place the basket filled with foods he hopes you'll like down. The two of you talk, getting to know each other better while enjoying both the scenery, and overall, each other's company. You're already so enamored by Choso solely due to the amount of effort he's put into the first date alone.

So far, he never comes across like you're a burden or that it's some kind of obligation to take you out on a date, and you really appreciate that attitude from him.

He's made his intentions very clear with you, and this first date is just the icing on the cake. Inwardly, unbeknownst to either of you, you both wish this date would never end.

────────────────────────────

A/N❥: Choso does NOT fumble the first date bag whatsoever in my book! He's just too much of a sweetheart for that; he gon' do his RESEARCH🧐🔬 okaaaay!!!! But fr though, this was very fun to write! I really like this idea of doing date headcanons in this kind of short fic form, thank you so much for the ask🙆🏾‍♀️

#choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso jjk #choso headcanons #strawberryfairi🧚🏾‍♀️ #jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic #choso x reader

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

Hi 🍋

I know you're busy with your rewatch but I was wondering cause I miss your rec lists: do you have a rec list for fics that heavily feature the 126's different religions? Them celebrating different holidays or discussing stuff or such?

Would love to see such a list, I feel like the fandom should have a general list where these fics are featured 💙

Hi anon!! Thank you so much for this lovely ask! Perfect timing, actually, because the fic I’m writing now, which I’ve affectionately been calling Eid Fic, centers around Marjan’s relationship with her faith and her family. It will heavily feature Marjan & TK discussing their own faiths, and sharing memories of holidays, fasting and family. And also how they grow together over the years and form their own found family.

I’m sorry my rec lists have fallen to the side lately! You are not the only person who’s asked me about them, and I promise they’re coming back! I’ve just been feeling a little overwhelmed lately (can you just be whelmed?). But I love any excuse to rec some of the amazing fics in this fandom. And this theme in particular is really exciting to me because we don’t have nearly enough of it! I have scoured by memory and my bookmarks for you, and here’s what I’ve found. Unsurprisingly, it mostly focuses on Carlos and TK’s faiths.

Disclaimer: this is by no means a comprehensive list, it is just what I remembered and what I found. If you know of other fics that feature religion, especially other characters, please reply/reblog with the links!

Carlos - Catholicism

The Line I'd Walk (For You) by TearsThisSideofHeaven Carlos lights a candle and says a prayer to St. Florian, the patron saint of firefighters when TK returns to work after being shot. TK asks him where he goes, so Carlos brings him to church one morning.

What is Sown, What is Grown by @never-blooms Carlos character study, beautiful glimpse into Carlos’s experience growing up Tejano and how his family shaped him.

I Swear I Love You (Te Juro Que Te Amo) by @never-blooms Nochebuena fic!! Beth gives us a really beautiful look at Nochebuena, which is the Christmas Eve holiday in Latinx cultures! This fic is full of everything you would expect from a good Nochebuena party: family, nosy siblings and aunties, chisme, delicious food and so much music.

to build a home by @freneticfloetry Carlos Begins, this fic follows Carlos from childhood through present day. Courtney gives us a lot of beautiful insight into Carlos’s background and culture, and there is some exploration of religious aspects especially in the last chapter.

And if you will allow a couple from me 🤭

I'm Not A Fortress, But I Will Try To Protect You TK & Marjan get together for pie after Marj breaks up with Salim and before TK goes back to Carlos. Marjan voices her fear of disappointing her parents with the news of the breakup, and TK offers to be there for her when she makes the phone call. Marjan also gives TK some perspective on what it was probably like for Carlos growing up in a conservative religious home.

The Greatest Gift I’ve Found, The Sweetest Thing I’ve Known My Nochebuena fic!! It’s got some holiday traditions and a lot of family love.

TK - Judaism

knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door by rakketyrivertam Five prayers TK sang for other people, and one he sang for himself

a case of cruel to be kind by @maxbegone This is a really lovely AU based on the movie About Time. The plot is that TK discovers he can travel back in time to events in his past, and that he inherited the gift from Gwyn. But at the heart of the story is a really beautiful examination of Gwyn and TK’s relationship. This includes a look at some traditional Jewish funeral and grieving practices, through the eyes of TK after Gwyn’s passing.

The last day of Hanukkah by @ladytessa74 A very sweet little Hanukkah fic set in Tessa’s Elijah verse, in the future where Tarlos has a four-year-old named Elijah. This story gives us a glimpse of Hanukkah in the Strand-Reyes house, the little traditions and the food.

Looking at it now, it all seems so simple by @liminalmemories21 Enzo and Jonah come to town, set between seasons 3 & 4 (though S4 kinda makes it an AU now 😖). Explores TK’s relationship with his faith through Carlos’s eyes, they celebrate Hanukkah and have a Shabbos dinner, and there are a few conversations about what parts of their own cultures and religions they want to bring into the family they’re forming, and how they want to raise any future kids.

Rosa Mundi by fiddlersgreen TK, Carlos and Owen go to New York for Gwyneth's funeral. I must admit it’s been a minute since I read this, but this author gives a really lovely perspective of what Gwyn’s funeral might have been like with the Jewish traditions and customs.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #911 lone star religious fic #tarlos fic #tarlos fic rec #911 lone star fic rec #ask #thanks anon!!!

[sattlersquarry]

lavender (steve harrington x fem!reader)

part two of the bloom series. series masterlist

Summary: You invite a new friend along for a wedding cake tasting. (garden center!steve x wedding planner!reader)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: language, mentions of divorced parents, the reader's mother is Jacqueline.

lavender: devotion, love, serenity

🪻🪻🪻

You’re spending your time in Hawkins living in a shed.

Okay, it’s not a shed. It’s a standalone garage that’s been repurposed into a small apartment. It’s on Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper’s new property, a beautiful cottage-like home on the edge of town.

Your mother, Jacqueline, lived in Hawkins many years ago, before she moved to the Indianapolis for college, and then the suburban town of Eagleton to settle down with your father and start a family. A family that was just the three of you, and then two after the divorce.

Once a scorned woman, your mother is now something of a powerhouse. She owns Eagleton Events, an event-planning firm that specializes in weddings, birthdays, bar/bat mitzvahs, and the occasional wake. Despite being in immense high demand this wedding season, she pawned the big-city weddings off on her employees to work Joyce’s wedding instead, dragging you along with her as her newest employee-slash-apprentice-slash-lackey.

As the great Jacqueline’s lackey, you’re currently threading twinkly lights through a trellis in the Hopper-Byers backyard. The wedding is coming up fast, because Joyce and Jim don’t want to wait a moment longer. Apparently, this has been a long time coming.

It has something to do with the fact that the groom-to-be was presumed dead for almost a year, only to return to Hawkins like nothing happened, spewing some story about amnesia after the mall fire and wandering aimlessly across state lines, until his memories returned, and he made his way back home.

The story seems fishy to you. Hell, a lot about Hawkins is fishy to you. In addition to Chief Jim Hopper’s miraculous return home, the town boasts a history of disappearances, deaths, chemical leaks, fires, serial killings, and deadly earthquakes.

That’s why you don’t mind working overtime to rush this backyard wedding out in a month. The faster you can get out of here, the better.

Except… you can’t stop thinking about Steve H. from the Garden Center. You feel pathetic, truly, fawning over a stranger like a schoolgirl with a crush. But every time your mother sends you on a wedding-related errand, you hope she’ll send you back for more flowers.

The lilies have been planted behind the trellis you’re currently decorating. Your mother is hopeful they’ll fully bloom closer to the wedding day. But if they don’t, and you’re forced to see Steve and buy some more, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“Great work, sweetie!” your mother calls, speedwalking over with Joyce in tow. “That trellis is just divine!”

“Divine” is strong. It’s lights on plastic, but okay.

“Thanks,” you say. “What else do you need me to do today?”

Flowers, flowers, please ask me to get more flowers—

“Joyce, Jim, and I need to meet with the caterer,” your mother says. “You need to go to the bakery and do the cake tasting.”

“Don’t you want to be there for that?” you ask, turning to Joyce with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, no, we trust you,” Joyce says. “Hop just asked for no carrot cake.”

“Got it, get a carrot cake,” you joke. Joyce chuckles. Your mother does not.

“Be at the bakery in two hours,” your mother says. “Oh, and if you have time beforehand, swing by the Garden Center and pick up the water feature I put on reserve. It should be called ‘River Rock Bonanza.’”

You get to the Garden Center in record time. It’s almost embarrassing.

Steve is watering a rosebush when you walk over.

“Hey, Steve,” you say. Your voice cracks, and you cringe. You clear your throat and add, “How’s it going?”

Steve’s face splits into one of those dazzling grins, and you feel lightheaded.

“Hey, you! Here for more lilies? We have some new white ones if you need them.”

“Not right now. I’m actually here to pick up a fountain, or something, that my mom ordered.”

“Oh, sure. The River Rock Bonanza. I’ll get it for you. Follow me!”

You do. You’d follow Steve anywhere if he asked.

He leads you to the customer service kiosk and pulls a gigantic white box from underneath the countertop. Your eyes bug out of your head.

“Holy shit,” you say. “She didn’t tell me I was hauling the Tiber River for her.”

“I’ll get a cart for you,” Steve says, plopping the box on the counter and disappearing for a moment. When he returns, you pay for the much-too-large water feature. He loads it in the cart and helps you push it to your car.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than lug stuff around for me.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Steve says. He glances at his watch. “My shift ends in, like, two minutes. And Karen Wheeler walked in right after you, and I’d much rather help you than her.”

“Who’s Karen Wheeler?” you ask as the two of you put the fountain in the trunk.

“My ex-girlfriend’s mom,” Steve says, voice a little sheepish. You tamp down your excitement at ex.

You suddenly have the desire to do something courageous yet insane.

“Are you doing anything after your shift?” you blurt out, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes despite your nerves.

Steve’s eyes widen.

“Oh, just getting a bite to eat,” he says. His voice shakes a little when he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “What are you up to?”

“Getting a bite to eat too,” you say. “Well, sampling cakes for the wedding. Would you…would you want to join me?”

The apples of Steve’s cheeks flush red. You fear you’ve embarrassed or offended him, but he smiles and says, “That sounds fun. Let me clock out and I’ll meet you back here?”

You nod, and he beams before dashing back into the garden center.

On the drive over to the bakery, Steve asks, “So, have you done a lot of cake tastings?”

“A few,” you say, tapping your hands on the steering wheel. “I graduated from community college this past spring, and I’ve been working with my mom since then. I don’t really know what I want to do with my life, but this is better than working at Macy’s.”

Steve chuckles.

“I get that,” he says. “My job before this was Family Video. Those fluorescent lights drain all the life out of you.”

“How’d you get your current job? You a big outdoorsman?”

“Well…no. But Robin loves gardening, and she’s my best friend, and she never applies for a job unless I apply too.”

“That’s sweet,” you say. “A little codependent, but sweet.”

Steve laughs again. You love the sound. You want to bottle it up and listen to it all day long.

“That’s us, all right,” he says. You expect him to say more, maybe about how he and Robin met, but he stays quiet.

At a red light, you glance over at him. His eyes are glazed over and his brow his furrowed, like he’s lost in his own head.

“You okay?” you ask.

He snaps out of it, looking up at you and plastering on a smile.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says. “Just got distracted for a second. What were you saying?”

“Uh, I just wanted to give you some pointers,” you say, diverting the conversation back to your destination. “At the cake tasting, take no more than two bites of each sample. If you eat too much, you’ll be too full to sample everything. Oh, and be sure to try both the cake and frosting.”

“Whoa,” Steve says. “This is serious business.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say. You park in front of the bakery and turn to fully face him. “Think about it. You could go to the most beautiful wedding of all time, but if the cake is dry, it’s the one thing that you’ll remember.”

You half-expect Steve to make fun of you for being so particular about this. Truthfully, it’s not that big a deal to you, but it is to your mother, so you want to do your best.

Steve doesn’t laugh, however. He’s the picture of earnestness when he says, “That totally makes sense.”

You could get lost in his hazel eyes. But you force yourself to focus on the task at hand: cake tasting.

And you taste a lot. Michelle, the bakery owner, brings out a tray of too many delicious samples: vanilla, chocolate, marble, red velvet, lemon, confetti, rose water, blackberry and lavender, and more.

“Holy shit,” Steve says, ignoring your advice and going back to the blackberry and lavender cake for a second, third, and fourth bite. “This is fucking delicious.”

“It is really good,” you say, sampling a bit more yourself. “I think I want to make love to this buttercream frosting.”

“Make love to it,” Steve says. “Marry it. Have six children with it. The whole shebang.”

“Whoa,” you tease. “You’re moving pretty fast. You just met this buttercream today!”

“When you know, you know!” Steve says. He gestures with his fork and accidentally flicks blackberry jam into your lap when he adds, “True love doesn’t wait.”

You feel increasingly warm from head to toe.

Stop, you think. You’re reading too much into this. He’s just going along with the joke.

To avoid looking like a flustered mess, you shovel more cake into your mouth.

You and Steve both decide on the blackberry and lavender cake. You go up to the counter to place the order with Michelle and get a sample for Jim and Joyce.

Steve watches you chat with Michelle, feeling warm himself. He really, really likes you. He doesn’t know you all that well, but he wants to. He knows you’re only in town for the summer, but he’d drive five hundred miles to see you if you asked.

Is he pathetic? Maybe. Does he care? Not particularly, no.

“You two are just adorable.”

Steve startles a little at the sound of someone talking to him. An older woman holding a bright pink bakery box stands by his chair and beams.

“Oh!” Steve says. “Uh, you mean me and…”

He gestures at you, and the woman grins wider.

“The way you look at her warms my heart,” she says. She nods in the direction of the half-eaten cake samples still on your table. “Congratulations on your wedding.”

Steve’s eyes bug out of his head.

“Uh, wait, we’re not…”

The woman shuffles off before he can clarify that you two are most definitely not an engaged couple.

He hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel when you walk back over with a to-go box of your own.

“Ready to go?” you ask.

Steve nods and follows you out. He rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans and starts speaking at the same time as you.

“Do you want—”

“Hey, can you—”

“You go first!” you say with an awkward laugh.

“Right,” Steve says. “Um, so I left my car at the garden center, so can you drop me off there?”

Your face falls.

“Oh, of course.”

“But also!” Steve says, panicking a little that he’s hurt your feelings, “I had a great time. I know you’re busy with the wedding, but can I take you on a real date sometime?”

“You sure I can compete with the buttercream for your affections?” you say with a smirk, waving the to-go box in the air.

“I like your chances,” Steve says softly. And he does.

Your stomach flips at his sudden earnestness. “I’d love to go on a date with you,” you say shyly. And you would.

🪻🪻🪻

a/n TAGGING THE LOVELY PEOPLE WHO HELPED BRING GARDEN CENTER STEVE TO LIFE, along with others who enjoyed part one! :) thank you for your lovely comments, they mean the world to me!

@quinnkeerys @spicysix @keerysquinn @sunshinesteviee @inkluvs @stevebabey @0vix0 @lame0o @ghostlyfleur @starry-eyed-steve @hollandweather @lurkingprincess

#st fic: bloom #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic

[cuddlebugsirius]

Finally getting back to writing ✍️

#Jess says hi #wolfstar fanfiction #fic: atelier bloom st #fic: ontogenesis

[hlficlibrary]

- HL Fic Library's Winter Fic Rec -

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

❄️ In A Twinkling by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {Explicit, 89k}

Louis’ Nan just wants him to be happy, to settle down with a nice boy, and bring him around for Christmas.

Louis is too busy with his career to bother about relationships, but in an attempt to appease his Nan, he sends her photoshopped pictures of him and his pretend boyfriend, Harry. The fact that the man in the pictures is none other than Harry Styles, world famous Gucci model—and recurrent star of Louis’ fantasies—is irrelevant. It’s not like their paths will ever cross…

So it comes as somewhat of a surprise when Louis returns home for Christmas and walks into his Nan’s sitting room only to find the real-life Harry Styles happily chatting away with the grey-haired ladies of his Nan’s Crochet Circle.

Featuring Niall and Liam as Louis’ childhood friends, Harry as the painfully perfect man of Louis’ dreams, Zayn as Harry’s very protective best mate, Louis’ Nan as a well-meaning matchmaker, and Louis as a guy who thinks he’s happy with his life, until a certain someone shows him what he’s been missing.

❄️ the impossible now by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci {Mature, 64k}

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

❄️ Yet in Thy Dark Streets Shineth by @juliusschmidt {Mature, 57k}

Louis’ life has become the very thing he’s always dreaded: routine. His job is steady, his bills are paid, his friends are preoccupied, his siblings are mostly old enough not to need him, and his mom keeps pestering him about attending church. Apparently, the new minister pulls rainbows and unicorns out of his robes.

Advent arrives three months into Harry’s first call as associate pastor at St. Andrews. Life is… not perfect. He’s still figuring out how do his job and the holidays bring a whole bundle of extra stress. On top of which, he has no friends or family nearby with whom he can decompress. Louis Tomlinson shows up to worship in the nick of time.

❄️ like cranberries on a winter evening by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou {General, 47k}

Louis hates Christmas. With good reason, too. And no, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

When research for his next novel leads Louis to the website of a quirky little hotel in Northumberland, there is exactly one room available for the two weeks that Louis really wants to get away from his family.

Will the fairy lights, kind smiles, homemade pastries, and genuine friendships awaiting him in Harry Styles’ hotel be enough to cause Louis a change of heart?

❄️ Ideal: An Advent Fic by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox {Mature, 40k}

All Louis wanted was some god-damned time to write his novel. He didn’t expect to move his and Liam’s entire production of a Christmas variety show to a small inn in Vermont just before the holidays. He didn’t expect to save Niall’s inn. He didn’t expect Liam to fall in love. He definitely didn’t expect to fall in love himself. And he certainly didn’t expect it all to feel so much like a Christmas movie.

Oh hell. There’s a lot of things Louis didn’t expect.

A White Christmas au, complete with drama, fluff, choreographed dance numbers, and idiotic boys falling in love. Just your typical Christmas fun.

❄️ The Happiest Season by @sadaveniren {Explicit, 37k}

“You’re going to spend Christmas -and your birthday- with his homophobic WASP parents? That’s gonna be hell.”

Louis closed his eyes in frustration. “It was either that or be apart and I don’t think that’s gonna be good for either of us this year, you know?”

A fic loosely based on Happiest Season but make it ... different

❄️ All Your Mates Are Here by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {Teen&Up, 36k}

"The pack is... It's folding, Harry."

Like every werewolf does when they get to a new town, Harry joined one of the many local packs when he started university. Now, three years into his program, he's hit with the news that his pack is giving up, going their separate ways. In the wake of the holidays, the three single wolves from the Majestic pack are pointed in the direction of a new pack to join; one that's got struggles of its own.

A new pack, a new house, and two new roommates with personal space issues... Plus exams, of course.

❄️ From the Start by @allwaswell16 {Explicit, 32k}

Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

❄️ One Minute to Midnight by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {Explicit, 29k}

Louis Tomlinson is at the height of his game in Boston's financial scene. He's got the instinct, and he's got the guts to take calculated risks that make everyone around him a lot of money. Everything is going well until the day after he gets promoted when he wakes up forty years older than his actual age.

Two years later he's adapted to his new life as a retiree, but he's lonely and desperate for company closer to his real age during the rigorous holiday party season. He gets some questionable advice from Niall and turns to the Seeking Arrangement app where he finds Harry Styles, a local actor he's been a fan of since they had an undergraduate class together. But what happens when a few dates here and there isn't enough?

❄️ all the lights are full of colour by @infinitelymint {Explicit, 26k}

So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan.

Or, Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.

❄️ Yours In Fractions by @kingsofeverything {Explicit, 23k}

Louis and Harry are strangers who, because of a mix up, share their mutual friend's apartment and bed over the holidays.

❄️ Three French Hems by @100percentsassy , gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews {Mature, 20k}

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

❄️ Take Your Time 'verse by @laynefaire {Explicit, 20k}

When Harry finds himself in the middle of a messy break-up with no place to live, Louis offers a spare room in his flat. Unbeknownst to Harry, Louis has been infatuated for years. Over the objections of their friends, who know the truth, Harry accepts. Can Louis survive Harry moving into his home…and closer to his heart? Will Harry see what's right in front of him?

❄️ You'll Be Home For Christmas by @2tiedships2 {Not Rated, 15k}

“Honesty, Lou, just ask Harry for help.”

Louis remained silent as he continued to scowl at the Christmas calendar Niall had hung on their refrigerator.

“And be nice to my calendar filled with holiday cheer,” Niall instructed. “You’re going to burn a fucking hole in it from the way you’re glaring at the innocent thing. It’s not the calendar’s fault that your heat is starting so close to Christmas.”

❄️ Naughty or Nice by noellehenry / @noellehenrymain {Teen&Up, 10k}

Louis never intended for his boss, the very attractive Harry Styles, to find out he has a temporary, additional job as a Christmas Elf at Harrods Department Store. When he gets a request to show up in his elf costume at Mr. Styles' office, after office hours, Louis' mind goes wild...

❄️ and marshmallows by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite {Explicit, 10k}

Louis Tomlinson’s ass was wet. Well the whole back of him was wet, but it was really, really seeping through the thin jeggings that he swore to Lottie were jeans. In this moment, though, lying spread eagle in the snow bank that was his front yard he admitted that they were indeed some kind of useless fabric that wasn’t denim.

“Ummm.” The voice was deep, hesitant and came from the little walk leading up to Louis’ house. Fucking fantastic. Someone to witness his misery. “Are you alright?”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut hoping that the person would just go away.

The one where Harry has a personal attachment to Louis' house, and Louis can't stop picturing the beautiful stranger dancing in his kitchen.

❄️ you've set my soul to dreaming by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed {Teen&Up, 9k}

At first, when Harry wakes up on Christmas Morning with a warm body in his bed he wonders if he pulled someone last night. He’d met some friends at the pub, none of them really having anyone to spend Christmas Eve with, and he knows he might’ve had a few drinks to numb the loneliness for a while, but he didn’t think he got that drunk that he’d ended up pulling someone and forgetting all about it.

Or: Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

❄️ Nothin' I Would Rather Do by @lululawrence {Mature, 9k}

“Louis,” Anne said sternly. “You know I have no problem with you working overtime if you need to, but I can’t have you running yourself ragged. At this rate you won’t have the energy or stamina to make it to the party yourself!”

“I’ll be fine, Anne. I swear.”

Her bright eyes sparkled as her smile turned a bit more coy and Louis knew immediately what was coming next.

“I hope so, because you know, my son will be in town and coming to the party.”

Louis froze. In all the months of her talking about her son and saying they should meet, she never once mentioned that he would be coming to the Christmas party. Well, fuck.

or...the one where Anne is determined to set Louis up with her son, but he's perfectly happy with the random sexting "relationship" he has running with the random he met at a bar several months back.

❄️ 12 Days of Kissmas by @haztobegood {Not Rated, 8k}

A collection of 12 Christmas ficlets, each one sealed with a kiss

❄️ so c'mon c'mon (and dance with me baby) by theweightofmywords / @rockstarlouis {Not Rated, 3k}

Louis and Harry meet at a corporate holiday party, drink copious amounts of champagne, dance like fools, steal rich people's food, and possibly, just maybe, fall in love.

#ficrec #hlsource #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghome #tracksintheam #yourlarrysource #trackinghappily #1dsource #theweightofmywords #haztobegood #allwaswell16 #lululawrence #kingsofeverything #jacarandabloom #wearethesame #noellehenry #briamaria #2tiedships2 #laynefaire #100percentsassy #gloriaandrews #infinitelymint #quickedween #ladylondonderry #sadaveniren #asphodelknox #juliusschmidt #stylinsoncity

[drarryglobesficrecs]

Post War - drarry fic recs

Kiss the Joy (Until the Sun Rise) by ICMezzo(37k)

The Room of Requirement was severely damaged in the war, but not so much that it could not provide for one lost student and another young hero—especially when they needed each other most of all.

Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch(43k)

The problem with living with another insomniac is, eventually, they find out you’re one, too. When Harry and Draco return for their eighth year, they think they’ll see very little of each other. Then McGonagall assigns them to room together. And the castle starts breaking. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

Nice Things by aideomai(22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Hurricane by phrynne(121k)

Eleven years after the War, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are both still haunted, working themselves to death on the job. But nothing is killing them more than seven years denying their mutual, unrelenting and painful attraction.

Crimson Neon by xanthippe74(20k)

Winter, 1999. Harry thought going to New York would help him get his head on straight, but all he has to show for it are sore feet and a fridge full of takeaway containers. And now he’s homesick on top of everything else. It doesn’t help that his mysterious neighbour in 2C keeps cooking dishes that remind Harry of home and all the people he lost or left behind.

Under the weather by P_pato_roldnart, shushu_yaoi_lj(14k)

Harry Potter arrives on a Friday afternoon.

The sun is shining outside, and the Hogwarts grounds are covered in purple and white crocuses; the first yellow daffodils peeking timidly from behind the trees.

Spring is beautiful this year, Draco thinks, and yet, there’s a dark grey cloud, rumbling ominously and leaving a big puddle right in the middle of the staffroom.

The cloud appears to be right above Harry Potter’s head.

As the World Moves On by InTheShadows(8k)

When Draco falls into a coma after the Battle of Hogwarts, he is admitted to St Mungo's and forgotten. He has no cards, no flowers, no visitors, nothing. Nothing, that is, until Harry stumbles across his room one day. (And then keeps coming back.)

Nyctophilia by prolonged_autumn(107k)

Everyone's back for 8th year, and Harry and his friends seem determined to spend their last year in school running around at night, hyped up on coffee and alcohol and Honeydukes candy, doing all the childish things they didn't have the chance to do before. Draco watches as he's always watched: from afar, quiet and bitter and hopelessly in love. That is, until Pansy decides she's had quite enough of it.

The Sleeping Beauty Curse by who_la_hoop(152k)

When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he . . .?

the in-betweens by derekmaliknurse(42k)

A tale of inter-house unity, Dirty Dancing, the various charms of certain Gryffindors and the Slytherins who fall for them, and Celestina Warbeck, in which Harry James Potter shares a room with one Draco Malfoy and despite seven years of past seething hatred, has the time of his life.

when evil blooms by thedoomofvalyria(83k)

Harry wanted a normal 8th year, but the mysterious and beautiful flowers growing around the castle have other ideas. They're up to something. And so is Draco Malfoy.

The July Tree by oknowkiss(51k)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

OR: It’s Eighth Year, and Harry Potter has detention. What else is new? Well, since you asked: Greenhouse Four and the Tree of Life, for a start, and then there’s the new shared Eighth Year common room, and Harry’s sexuality, and these pesky dreams he keeps having about a blond man pushing him into things…

#draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x harry #drarry #drarry fic #drarry squad #harry x draco #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfic rec #drarry fanfic recommendation #drarry fanfiction #drarry fandom #drarry fic rec #draco lucius malfoy #harry draco #harry/draco #harry james potter #hpdm #post war #fic rec #read the tags before reading the fic #ily y'all

[thegoldencontracts]

Octopus-Lover

You know what? I know it's not very popular here, but here's a jeiazu fic. 1.1k words. If you like this ship, PLEASE lmk I've seen literally one other active person on tumblr who likes this ship please please please it's literally my otpp agjhgjerkgad

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

Jade had always enjoyed eating octopus. Azul knew that. The man also ate octopus in front of him for the sake of watching him squirm, but Azul had long grown used to that.

And yet, suddenly, he couldn't help but feel so- flustered whenever Jade ate octopus. It was irrational, he knew that. But that didn't stop his mind from running.

What if he was in the position of the octopus being eaten? Would Jade look upon him with such excitement, such longing?

Perhaps it was due to their newfound relationship. On second thought, that was definitely the reason. Now that the concept of kissing was on the table, Azul couldn't help but be enamored by it. Like a maiden in love. How foolish.

There he was sitting across from Jade in the VIP room, desperately attempting to suppress the blush threatening to bloom across his face while Jade was busy drooling over a fried tentacle he'd received from Floyd.

"That perfect, solidly crispy exterior," Jade said, turning over the fried tentacle. "And then, the moment one takes a bite, the soft, delightfully squishy interior is revealed."

That sounded exactly like some odd commentary Jade would make about his personality! How exactly did the man expect Azul to retain his composure?

"I-If you're going to spend all day talking about the delectable nature of fried octopus, at least have the decency to do it away from me." Azul cursed himself for stuttering. 

Jade laughed.

"You seem more cross than usual about my favorite food, Azul," he said. "Perhaps you're jealous of the fried tentacle? No need for that, I assure you."

How was the theory that Azul was jealous of food less mortifying than the truth?

"Of course not," Azul said with a roll of his eyes.

He had to get back to work, to focus, but he couldn't. Here he was, his work ethic incapacitated by none other than a tentacle.

Jade seemed to be taking notice.

"Really, though," he asked. " What seems to be causing your troubles?"

Azul sighed, looking intently at the contract sitting before him. It was so fascinating, really.

"Nothing."

It was clipped, stern, in a way that said 'Drop this conversation at once.'

But Jade, of course, didn't heed the warning. He never did. He hadn't when it was Azul threatening to ink him if he didn't leave, and he certainly wouldn't now. Because Jade had a penchant for worming his way through Azul's defenses, for ensuring that those warnings were never acted upon. Because Jade was irritatingly obstinate.

Oh, how Azul loved him. 

"It doesn't appear to be nothing," Jade said. "Judging from the flush of your cheeks, in fact, it appears to be quite the issue."

Azul shook his head. As stubborn as Jade was, Azul's will was unbreakable.

After a few seconds of staring at him with increasing irritation, Jade looked away with a sigh.

"Fine then. Do as you please," he said.

And that was that. Until only a few seconds later, when Jade took a bite of the tentacle, and Azul let out a low, keening screech.

Mortification was an understatement for what he felt when Jade turned to look upon him in incredulity.

"I take it my plausible deniability's run out?" Azul said with an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Your 'plausible deniability' ran out quite some time ago," Jade said with a grin. "Do continue, though. It's rather amusing, witnessing you squirm around like a little guppy."

Azul didn't doubt that for one second. After a few seconds, however, Jade's expression seemed to soften. Had he somehow found out the reason for Azul's discomfort?

"Is this tentacle a makeshift voodoo doll of you?" Never mind. "Did I just take a bite into one of your organs?"

That was so clearly wrong Azul genuinely couldn't tell whether it was a joke.  

Still, he shook his head.

"That really isn't the reason for my discomfort," he said with a sigh. 

"I know,"  Jade said. "I merely jest. For now, it seems like your troubles will forever be a mystery."

Another bite into the tentacle, and this time, Azul managed to suppress the yelp that wished to escape him. 

Jade shuffled with his pockets, pulling out his phone. Azul gulped. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

He wasn't letting Jade take a picture of his humiliation. Not today. He hastily planted his gaze upon his contracts, shifting the brim of his hat to conceal the red of his cheeks.

"Hmph," Azul couldn't see, but he knew Jade was feigning a pout. "Must you be a killjoy?"

Azul scowled, though he didn't dare look at Jade.

"It's much preferable to indulging you," he said with a huff.

"And yet, you indulged me in my attempted confession, did you not?"

Azul would never forget the way Jade looked while tripping over his words, struggling just to say an 'I love you'. It was adorable, really.

The sound of chomping finally wore down his self-control.

"You and the tentacle are in close quarters, are you not?" he said. "Perhaps- you-"

He couldn't quite bring himself to finish his sentence. Jade seemed to understand, however. Azul was thankful for that.

"The way I savor the tentacle makes you imagine intimacy between us, does it not?"

Azul's face heated up even further. How was that possible?

"Y-You don't have to be so blunt about it," he mumbled. "But- yes. I suppose one could call that the root of my troubles."

Jade chuckled.

"Really, now?" he said. "How adorable."

"Quiet."

Jade didn't listen, of course.

"No, no, really," he said. "To think, you'd be so easily-"

Azul couldn't take it anymore. He yanked Jade across the table by the tie, crashing their lips together. 

It was greedy, because that was who Azul was - a territorial, greedy man, and that was one aspect of himself he had no shame about. At that moment, if asked, he'd shout it for all to hear. Jade was his. His mate. 

The adrenaline of a kiss really wasn't to be underestimated, it seemed.

By the time he finally pulled away, satisfied, Jade's face was flushed. His was, too, if the warmth of his cheeks was any indicative.

"T-That was," Jade paused to catch his breath. "Quite the experience, to say the least."

Azul couldn't help but grin. Finding ways to break through Jade's composure would never get old, it seemed.

"It seems you can't take what you dish out," he said with a snicker.

"D-Do be quiet."

Azul laughed. To think, their roles had reversed in such a short span of time. It was something Azul loved to no end.

In fact, for all his talk about Azul maintaining his interest, Jade too would forever be fascinating.

#jade x azul #azul x jade #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto x jade leech #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #twst azul #twst jade #twst fanfic #azul #jade #Seriously if you like this ship COME TO ME PLEASE I WILL DO ANYTHING #Ive seen azurido and jamiazu (great ships I ship em too as an avid multishipper so so hate) but no jeiazu #please please

[neondiamond]

🌸 Recently Read Fics - April 2023 🌸

These are all the amazing fics I read over the past month (from shortest to longest). Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show the authors your appreciation if you read any of these! 🤍

🌸 Rainy Days, New Adventures by @greenblueish (1k, G)

After a bad day, Louis decides to take a walk in the park where he meets a special man with a special little companion.

🌸 His and Hers by @hellolovers13 (1k, T)

It's just a blanket, it shouldn't make Harry freak out like this.

🌸 Do You See What I See by @allwaswell16 (2k, T)

Harry may or may not be rescuing stray animals as an excuse to see the very hot local veterinarian.

🌸 Changing Weather (For Worse or For Better) by @haztobegood (3k, M)

Five times it's raining and one time it stops.

🌸 Just a little taste by @lunarheslwt (3k, G)

Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one. Louis offers him unwavering love, acceptance and the one thing he needs but is reluctant to ask for; permission to bite for the sake of comfort and safety seeking.

🌸 Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup (4k, G)

Where you have a tattoo of the first thought your soulmate has when they see you.

🌸 There’s More Than Meets The Eye by @faithinwalls369 (4k, NR)

Loving from afar left room for wonder, absent embarrassment and an eradication of stuttering. Falling at one's feet, metaphorically or physically is thrown into the mix, when Niall and Liam play cupid’s arrow, throwing a blindfolded Harry and Louis together. Chemistry isn’t Niall’s chosen subject, but when sparks fly, it’s something he should consider.

🌸 some time to borrow by @sun-lt (8k, T)

In which Louis breaks his arm, Harry buys a car, and they do what they can with the time they have.

🌸 Station 28 by @justahappycloud (10k, G)

Some people meet by accident. Two unassuming worlds that weren’t supposed to even graze each other clash, and in an unexpected twist of destiny, they fuse into one. It’s destructive. It’s life changing. It’s, unequivocally, a complete and utter mess.

Darling, you are my favourite accident by far.

🌸 Keep Driving by @dedtobeginwith (11k, M)

Louis works as a driver contracted through the local cancer institute. All of his clients are associated with the hospital—mostly patients and their families heading home. One rainy afternoon, he picks up Harry.

🌸 Somebody’s Got Your Trainers On (It’s You) by @greenblueish (28k, E)

The one where, after two years, paediatrician Harry returns to Silver Street Hospital and with it to paediatric nurse Louis' life.

🌸 saw some things on the other side by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (61k, M)

When Louis moves into the mansion he’s inherited from his great grandfather, he has a plan that consists of three things. One, he’s going to finish writing the next novel in his series. Two, he’s finally going to get over his ex-fiancé. And three, while battling writer’s block and having to resist the urge to kill off the main character in his books – the hot detective based on his ex-fiancé – he’s going to restore the mansion to its former glory.

Unfortunately, Louis’ plan doesn’t take into account the fact that instead of writing murder mysteries, he will find himself in one.

🌸 another friday night by @wabadabadaba (73k, M)

Louis Tomlinson thought signing to BMG would mean he would be free to make his own choices.

He should have known better.

Tasked with getting a public girlfriend, Louis decides to try his hand at finding the right woman himself. From the moment he met Lennon Adair he felt a connection with her but he had no idea how deep that connection would go.

🌸 And What If I Were You by @jacaranda-bloom (109k, E)

For Louis, will losing his sight give him the clarity to realise what is right in front of him?

For Harry, will losing the love of his life give him the strength to finally open his heart?

And can they find their way back, before they lose each other forever?

A story of love. A story of loss. A story of fighting for each other, no matter the odds.

#monthly recs #fic rec #28th appreciation #tracksintheam #trackinghome #trackinghappily #hlcreators