#his face of pure terror when he sees her

[mysweetobsessions]

Love Quinn on You, season 4 part 2

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Got Jealous Of His Twin Brother”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, slight Yuuji x Reader but we all know who you’re really here for, Sukuna is down bad, narration is mostly from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.80k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna is a fucking geinus.

His plan is full proof. His brothers put him in charge of buying the tickets for some stupid ass movie Yuuji wants to go see, and you always write your work schedule down on the calendar taped to the fridge. Sure, yeah, maybe he had to call out sick for today because this was the only day that Choso had work and you didn’t, but now he knows that his plan will fall perfectly into place. Yuuji is already at the apartment, you’ll come downstairs eventually, and Yuuji will invite you to come to the movie in Choso’s place, making it look like a total coincidence and definitely not something he’s been meticulously planning all week.

Could he have just, I don’t know, asked you to go on a date with him? Of course not, that’s fucking ridiculous. This makes so much more sense.

I mean, you absolutely loved The Human Centipede, definitely weren’t covering your eyes in terror and disgust when he showed it to you, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll just adore Human Earthworm. Hah! What a fuckin’ joke, you’ll be dragging Sukuna out of the theatre within five minutes and begging him to take you out somewhere else without his annoying twin brother.

It’s perfect.

Him and Yuuji are lounging on opposite ends of the couch while Yuuji is going on and on about an Elden Ring boss he can’t beat. Sukuna has his boots propped up on the coffee table and his arms resting behind his head as he half listens to his brother, and more so keeps an ear out for your footsteps upstairs.

“I was gonna try and beat her without summons but she’s kicking my ass, how many tries did it take you?”

“One.”

“Ugh!” Yuuji flops backwards on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and shoving it over his face, his defeated whines muffled through the plush cotton, “She’s so impossible!”

Footsteps, finally. As you walk into the living room Yuuji uncovers his face, and you stop dead in your tracks, pointing at him, and then his brother, back and forth a few times before rubbing your eyes.

“Holy shit, there’s two of you?”

Oh yeah, I never mentioned my family huh?

Sukuna just gives you a smug smirk, “Three, but the emo one couldn’t make it.”

Yuuji perks up, jolting upright on the couch and giving you a bright smile, “Hi! I’m the normal one!”

You pull a chair out from the kitchen table, plopping yourself down into the wooden seat, “I think I’m gonna faint.”

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Sukuna is… a fucking idiot.

He knew his brother had a bubbly personality and could get along with literally anyone, but how was he supposed to know that you two would hit it off so well? Yuuji is pulling out all the stops, holding the door open for you, offering to pay for your popcorn, god it’s like he’s trying to get on Sukuna’s nerves.

Granted, it’s not like Sukuna told him that he likes you, but I mean for fucks sake that’s his twin brother! Shouldn’t he have some sort of sixth sense for this kind of thing?

That pink haired fucker has you wrapped around his little finger, you’re looking at him with googly eyes and cheesing like it’s fucking picture day. Ridiculous. Why don’t you ever smile like that for him? He’s funny!

I’m never letting him in the apartment again.

The three of you walk up to the top row of the nearly empty theater, Sukuna making sure to sit right between you and Yuuji. Previews are rolling on the screen as Sukuna is trying his damndest to hide the scowl on his face, his large arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the way the large screen reflects different colors into your eyes. He didn’t really think this far ahead, he’s got you next to him at the movies but… what now? He’s mentally kicking himself enough as it is for not considering his overly charismatic brother, and now he’s realizing that he doesn’t even know what his own intentions are.

Did he just want to take you somewhere? Is he trying to sleep with you? Does he want to be… romantic with you?

God, what has he become? He’s supposed to be the tough fucking scary guy and he’s not only getting shown up by his nerdy brother, but also getting nervous at the thought of making a move on you.

Yuuji flings popcorn in your direction, making you squeal out a giggle as it gently lands in your hair. Sukuna groans, hardly paying attention as he’s deep in thought, running his finger through your hair and flicking the popcorn away. He’s so consumed in his own head that he completely misses the blush that tints your cheeks at his tender touch.

Should I have even bothered with this? I feel like staying at the house would’ve been better at this point.

A piece of popcorn flies into his eye.

“Ugh,” This is so stupid, Sukuna rubs his eyelid with his thumb, “Watch it, brat.”

Yuuji tosses his hands up defensively and you giggle again, leaning over the armrest and placing your pointer finger on Sukuna’s cheek, tilting his face to turn towards you. Have your eyes always been that bright?

“Ooh, bullseye.” He can feel your breath fanning on his face, you’re so close, but just as abruptly as you leaned in, you lean back into your seat. God, he wants more than anything to tell you to come back, but the words wouldn’t be able to escape his lips if he tried. Unfortunately, all he manages to do is glare down at you and make you shift awkwardly under his gaze, mumbling out a quick apology.

Fuck. I think I scared them.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

From what you’ve been able to gather, this movie is weird. Is it horror or romance? You’ve been having trouble paying attention, far too distracted by Yuuji leaning over the very annoyed looking Sukuna to excitedly whisper tidbits about the movie to you. But every time you look over to Yuuji your eyes can’t help but wander to Sukuna’s profile, the flashing lights of the large screen illuminating his tattooed skin, his bottom lip tutting out to blow the loose strand of his pink hair resting on his brow out of his eyes-

Ah dammit, I’m doing it again.

You’re so confused. Sukuna has been giving you mixed signals all night, sweetly running his fingers through your hair one moment, then glowering at you like he wants you dead the next. He’s so unpredictable, and you’ve been so distracted by him all evening that you’ve hardly been able to pay any attention to poor Yuuji, giving him bright smiles and fake laughs while your mind is completely consumed with Sukuna.

He’s been so grumpy the entire evening, you’ve been feeling like he’s… disappointed? Is he mad his other brother couldn’t come? Is he mad that you took the emo one’s place? Would he rather somebody else have gone to the movie with him? It was Yuuji’s idea for you to tag along, so it’s safe to assume that if Sukuna wanted you here he would have just invited you, right?

But then every now and again his eyes flicker to you, watching. Why is he looking at you like that? With his gaze so uncharacteristically soft, scanning your face like he’s searching for something, from the corner of your eye you can catch him looking at your lips.

Is there something on my face?

You’re ripped from your thoughts as a blood curdling scream erupts from the speakers, making you jump in your seat. You catch the tiniest glimpse of a smirk creeping on the corner of Sukuna’s lips as he sits like a rock, completely unbothered as per usual. You gently kick his foot under the seat, and he presses his large boot onto the top of your sneaker, pinning your shoe under his and keeping your foot locked in place under the sole of his steel toe boot.

You cross your arms over your chest, letting out a frustrated huff at him that only makes his grin grow wider, his face still pointed towards the large screen as he flashes his canines at you. He props his elbow on the armrest between you, resting his chin on the ball of his palm as he peers down at you with a smug grin.

“You ready to get out of here yet?”

Cocky fucker, I swear he gets off on making me mad.

“No.” You snap back defensively.

Unbeknownst to you, his question was not rhetorical. But you’re in it now, determined to sit through this entire movie even if it kills you. You’re bothering him enough just by being here, the last thing you want to do is make him feel like he needs to leave.

His smirk shifts into a grimace as he taps his boot on top of your shoe. You slide your sneaker away but he loops his calf around yours and pulls your leg towards him, gently kicking your foot. If you didn’t know better you’d almost think he was… trying to play footsies with you? You’re not really sure what he’s trying to do, all you know is that he’s still leaning on the armrest between you and probably unintentionally pulling you closer by your leg.

Your arm brushes against his as you try to maneuver your elbow onto the armrest, quietly muttering to him “You’re hogging up all the space.”

He leans down slightly to whisper in your ear, “Tragic. Use the other one.”

You nudge his forearm with your elbow, “Just move your arm.”

He lets out a quiet “Tch” and raises his arm to rest over the back of your seat instead, “This better, brat?”

You nod your head as a blush creeps onto your cheeks, luckily hidden by the darkness in the room. When you relax back into your chair you can feel his arm pressing into the back of your neck and his fingers lightly graze against your shoulder. It feels… kinda comforting, you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lean into his touch and your heart starts to pound at the thought.

You don’t dare to look at Sukuna, deciding to quietly enjoy the moment. Which is a real shame, because if you did look at him there’s a chance you’d catch the way he’s gnawing on his bottom lip with a face that looks almost as flustered as your own.

He might be enjoying this more than you are, and he might even be thinking that having to sit through this movie might not be so bad after all.

A/N: POV you and Sukuna are two idiots who are into each other but neither of you have the balls to do something about it. Also writing Sukuna’s POV for the narration was SO FUN!!! We love our delusional king who sees you god forbid smile at another person and immediately assumes you’re in love with them Dividers by @adornedwithlight

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[chelseeebe]

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

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eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[chuluoyi]

found you

- gojo satoru x reader

in a world in which he isn't the strongest and you're the high school's sweetheart, fate brought you to him once again

genre/warnings: reincarnation au, fluff/comfort

notes: a sequel to everything, but not anything

general masterlist

Everyone knows you. You hold most of the popular guys' hearts in your hand and either break them unknowingly or innocently, and despite that, they still don't have it in them to hate you.

And of course, the school's clown, Gojo Satoru, knows you too. He knows you by name and face, but never had the chance to really talk to you directly.

Why? First, he just simply didn't bother, and second, because there was already another girl plaguing him—the girl of his dreams.

And he didn't mean it figuratively... there's indeed a girl haunting him every once in a while in his dreams. A girl whose face was always obscured from his mind, whom he couldn't picture outside the realm of his slumber. Most of the time it was a happy dream, enough to bring a smile to his face every time he woke up.

But sometimes, it was the most disturbing nightmare.

There would be blood, the girl's empty eyes and still body, and him screaming out at her to not die. But then he couldn't do anything—or even see her open her eyes—as he fell into an abyss and awakened in pure terror.

Satoru was convinced someone held this massive grudge on him for pranking them that they resorted to curse him with voodoo or something. Why else would he keep having these dreams about the very same girl? It was clearly a work of something greater.

You were just not interested in romance. At least not with the guys who were after you up until now.

Or perhaps, because there was this guy in your dreams that captivated you so much that you chose to ditch those real guys for him. This imaginary person.

You were going insane. You were sure of it.

When you explained your affliction to your best friend Riko, she shot you a very bombastic side eye but tried to get you to describe the boy in your dreams regardless.

"He..." you faltered. His face was always blurry in your mind's eye. There were little things that you were sure of. "He has a really cute grin? Crinkling eyes? Like he just likes to smile?"

"Y/N, did you hear yourself?" Riko asked you incredulously. "Are you sure it isn't one of the guys in your anime shows? I'm telling you, watching them too much makes you delusional."

And so your girl talk with her ended up with her pushing you to try this hit dating app that guarantees you to go on at least one date due to its many fascinating features. You tried it on sheer whim and didn't even use your real name. You had been swiping right and left, before suddenly stopped when you saw whose profile popped up in your screen.

Gojo Satoru.

He was in your grade, and he was hard to miss. The school's biggest troublemaker who held the highest record of being sent to the disciplinary room. You never got to talk to him, and before today you were sure you wouldn't even look at him twice. So he plays these things too?

Your type definitely wasn't delinquents or attention-seekers. But why is it that the more you gaze at his profile picture—of him with this widest grin and that funny round glasses—the more you are intrigued?

In the end, you swiped right.

Just because he didn't bother to be in a serious relationship or had a girl who held onto him in his dreams, it didn't mean that he was shying away from real life girls. Satoru, as much of a headbanger as he was, was popular. Some girls were into him and he didn't exactly let his chances to fool around pass.

Girls with questionable virtues though. Suguru, whose popularity was as much as him just in the right way, would always say that his tastes were bad. Shoko would straight up mock him as a wimp, for not having the courage to go after the right girl, such as you.

And so when on one of his boring days that he played with a dating app he found a profile who swiped him right with a picture that was you but a name that wasn't, he was taken by surprise and twice as curious.

For one, he knew it was you. And hey, you were interested in him?

Satoru took up on that offer. Taking advantage of it as now he had the chance.

The two of you exchanged messages in the dating app. He'd tell you his thoughts or crack funny jokes, and you'd reply with these many laughing emojis and stickers.

Until one day, when your conversation went like this...

you: really? but girls must be lining up for you and you could've had your pick from them gojo: nah most of ‘em all boring you: what a red flag. after a while surely you'll find me boring too gojo: you? haha no. boring people don't do things you do you: ...what do you mean?

You and him had this texting thing going on for more than a month already, but you still weren't aware that he knew that it was you.

gojo: you're y/n

And he figured that it was time to go face-to-face. Because he wanted to get to know you beyond this phone screen because who knows what more you faked other than your name?

After he busted you not so gently, he demanded that you'd go on a date with him. You could only lament—you couldn't say that you hadn't seen this coming, with how poor your disguise was. Then again, did you even intend on hiding from him in the first place? Now that you thought about it, no. You were quite alright even when he knew who you were.

On the said day, just right after school ended, he went to the agreed place to take out out to a famous cafe in Shibuya. Only to find a guy from basketball team bowing his head before you.

"I really like you!" the guy declared with sincerity and steadfastly. He was tall, quite famous too. By all means, the two of you would've made a fine pair.

Satoru just frowned. Suddenly he didn't like the sight before him. This wasn't the first time he saw someone confessing their feelings for you—you were famous for that. And anyway, the two of you were just friends even though you've been texting for a long time now. He shouldn’t be upset.

"Ah," you let out a small sigh, your face lit with realization. Your voice was soft to Satoru's ears. Too soft. It resembled something someone had told him a long, long time ago.

"Don't ever leave me, okay?" "Of course."

That voice held the same softness as you did just now.

"I'm sorry," you proceeded to say, giving a look of sympathy to your admirer. "I'm very flattered, and I thank you for that. But I have no room for—"

"Y/N-chan!" Satoru didn't know where this immense impulse came from, he just went with it and it terribly spooked you. You jumped and whipped your head at him, eyes widened in total surprise.

But he merely sauntered towards you, only with his winning grin and nothing else, until he was right next to you, staring down the basketball guy with so much mirth in his blue eyes.

"Hello to you." Satoru addressed him, then put his arms on your shoulder, ignoring how you immediately stiffened. "Too bad, today she is going with me."

You couldn't believe what he just said and before you could rectify anything, the guy who just confessed to you bolted away in humiliation. You immediately untangled yourself from his arms, ready to be cross.

Or at least until you stared straight to his cerulean blue eyes.

And he too, saw his reflections in your orbs.

Suddenly everything didn't matter. You were lost into his eyes as he did yours. As the lines of dream and reality twisted and turned.

Suddenly, Satoru could put a face to the girl he'd been seeing on his nightly wonders. Her smile. Your smile.

And you could see the boy who loved you to death in him. The one who took your heart with him, and agreed to go with you for the second time.

All it took was gazing into these eyes of yours to make the connection. Everything seems right. So right.

As if the two of you are destined for this very moment. As if you’re given everything to understand why you should meet him now.

I found you.

As sudden as it came flowing to your brain—all these images that overlapped with your dreams—it ended. You came back to reality.

“You’re insufferable,” you hissed at Satoru, pushing away the fog in your mind.

“Am I?” a shit-eating grin formed at his glossy lips. “But it’s true, you’re on a date with me today.”

And so you went to your very first date. Satoru was every bit the same as the guy who messaged you on that dating app. He was outspoken, effortlessly funny, but still, a bit annoying here and there.

It was strange how comfortable you got around him, even though it was practically your first interaction.

Soon the number of dates increased. Two, three, four—and so on. Soon, everyone knows. Riko questioned you if you were sure to pick him out of all fishes you could’ve picked. In a way, you weren’t sure. It depends on this question: what are you to him anyway?

Meanwhile, on Satoru’s side, everyone either cheered for or envied him. Suguru patted him on his back, thinking he finally got the right senses. And he found himself to like you very much. He couldn’t go a day without thinking what you were doing or messing with you. You were kind, cute and pretty, and as he said it himself, he likes pretty things.

So it came as a surprise when you blurted out that burning question, sounding so unsure and overall out of your character, whereas you should already know how he put his heart on his sleeves for you to grab.

“Are you messing with me?” he gawked. But when he saw hurt crossed on your face, he was thrown into panic. “No—I mean…”

He exhaled sharply. He wasn’t used to this confessing thing at all because usually he didn’t need it.

“I really like you, okay? You do know that I like you, at the very least?”

With that, your relief was visibly palpable, like a sun that went out of its hiding. The hopeful gleam in your eyes—Gods, Satoru wanted to protect that forever.

“With that being said…” he wanted to look cool, he didn’t want to mess this up. And so he extended his hand to you, opening his palm.

“Would you go out with me?”

It was probably the first time you saw him so sincere. He was playful, flippant and overall just a menace, but when he asked you this, he looked as if he brought out his heart for you to see.

When you breathed out a “Yes”, and intertwined your fingers in his, he was over the moon, smothering you with kisses.

From that point onwards, your romance book was brimming with moments that sparkled, ranging from the sweet to the passionate. Each experience with him felt like a first, yet there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if you had known him somewhere from a long time ago.

Those dreams of you and him from somewhere at another time brought the two of you together once again. With their purpose fulfilled, you no longer had to traverse the realm of dreams to be with the boy who had always provided you comfort with his presence. Likewise, he was no longer haunted by the recurring vision of you fading away before his eyes.

Because now, you and Gojo Satoru have a new life. A life where both of you can find happiness together.

[atlabeth]

(not so) simple pt 4 - anthony bridgerton

masterlist

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn’t.

a/n: SO. UM. once again this took fucking forever to come out which is kind of insane when you think about it because i've had 7000 words of this chapter written for like 4 months. truly wild. 2 babies have been born in the time that it's taken me to write this mini series but anyways there’s a lot happening here, shoutout to anthony for finally getting some more pov parts, the fun thing about your mc being out of commission for a while is that you have no choice but to write for the other characters. equality we love to see it. anyways most of it is angst, but it’ll all be wrapped up with a little regency romance bow i promise

wc: 7.6k

warning(s): aftermath of the end of last chapter which is angst. stab wound, talks of death, mentions of edmund's death, quite a bit of crying, anthony bridgerton's inner angst, miss worthing makes poor decisions. not a happy chapter but WHAT CAN YOU DO

“What were you thinking?” Violet demanded.

Anthony could barely hear his mother over the sound of the blood pounding in his ears, the pure terror gripping his heart. He’d no idea how to respond to her. He doubted she would like to hear that he, indeed, was very much not thinking. 

And he was certainly not thinking much now, what with you on the brink of death with their doctor and his apprentice the only thing there to stop you. He could be of no help to you, bent half over in his chair, head in his hands, the image of you collapsing burned into his mind. 

“Anthony Bridgerton, answer me.” Violet stood over him, her face flushed and eyes filled with anger and fear. “What were you thinking, bringing Miss Worthing out into the city?” 

“I cannot deal with your questions right now, Mother!” he snapped, something letting loose inside of him. Anthony would have been ashamed had he any sense. “My future wife is in that room fighting for her life, and it is because I was not able to protect her. I am hardly able to form words at the moment, Mother, so please—” Anthony’s voice broke, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Please just be quiet.” 

It took a bit of nerve to be such an ass in front of his very own mother, but Anthony apparently had plenty of nerve at the moment. After you collapsed, he’d done the only thing he could think of in the moment and brought you back to Bridgerton House—it was closer than your residence, and if their physician had been able to keep his mother alive through eight pregnancies, then surely he could bring you back. 

Now, though, he was not so sure. Every other option seemed to be plaguing his mind, for your blood still stained his hands and his clothing and Anthony didn’t know if he would ever be able to get it off. 

His father died in his arms from something so small as a bee, and yet you had been stabbed. How were you meant to come back from that?

The door suddenly slammed open, and when Anthony glanced up, his insides twisted. 

“Where is she?” Eloise demanded. Her windblown hair matched the wild look in her eyes, and the flush of her cheeks and haggard breathing told him everything. She was meant to be promenading with Penelope Featherington—her speed on foot was admirable. 

“With our physician,” Violet responded. She seemed more subdued now, and though Anthony knew he would apologize profusely later, he could not find it in himself now. He could hardly find anything in himself apart from panic.

“With our physician—” She turned on Anthony, her gloved hands clenched into fists. “What in God’s name happened, Anthony?”

He allowed himself a moment to breathe before he responded. “She was stabbed.”

“Stabbed?” Eloise cried. “She was with you! How could she have been stabbed?”

“I was not with her when it happened—”

She scoffed. “That is a likely fucking story.”

“Eloise,” Violet said, “language.”

“I do not care about my language,” Eloise spat, gesturing wildly with her hands. “My best friend has been stabbed— I will say whatever I please!”

And then, as if to just add fuel to their fire, Benedict rushed in. Anthony held back a slightly unhinged laugh and shook his head. You were dying and they were out here arguing. 

“I’ve made sure this hallway is off limits like you said, Mother.” Benedict looked just as shaken as the rest of them, and in a strange way Anthony was grateful. You’d grown closer to his family than he’d known. “Your lady’s maid is outside the door alongside a footman ensuring privacy, and your driver is on route to the Worthing residence to alert her parents. They’ve all been sworn to secrecy—no one will be disturbed, least of all Miss Worthing.”

“Thank you, Benedict.” Violet sighed, and she collapsed into an armchair. “At least one of us is in order.”

Benedict sat down on the sofa, his words coming out in a mumble. “I am hardly in order.”

The fire seemed to have died down in Eloise, for however temporary a time, and she settled down next to Benedict. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her.

“She’ll be okay,” Eloise whispered, “right?”

No one answered for a moment. At last, Anthony looked up, his hands clasped in front of him.

“Yes,” he rasped, hoping with everything in him that his words would be true. “She will be okay.”

He would not have been able to live with any other outcome, not when it was his fault in the first place that you were in this position. 

Anthony didn’t know what he should have done, but he should have done something. He should have brought you to your senses and suggested a promenade in the park instead. He should have called on you at your estate, safe and sound in your drawing room. He should have been arm in arm with you, his heart steadily melting as you smiled and laughed and made him aware of all things good in the world. 

He could not lose you. Not when he still had so much to tell you, so many words left unsaid. 

Not when you didn’t know he loved you. 

“I’m sorry, Anthony.” He looked up at the sound of Eloise’s voice—though she did not look at him and her arms were still crossed, the sincerity of it was not lost on him. “I know it was not your fault.” 

His chest tightened. It was his fault. 

“You clearly care about her,” she said. “It is not fair to pin this on you.” 

“Sometimes we hurt the people we care about,” he said, his voice hollow. 

“Sometimes,” she agreed. “But not this time.” 

His eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Eloise had been at odds with him for nearly this entire season because of their ruse. Though she knew of its falsity, she still chastised him for taking up time that could have been spent with her, still rolled her eyes when he announced his leave to go see you, still questioned why he had to go after her best friend. 

But Eloise was driven by her emotions, no matter how red hot or icy cold they may have been. At this moment, her concern for you outweighed anything, and she recognized the same in him. 

So Anthony nodded. Once, twice, hardly moving but a clear acknowledgment. He glanced at his mother and brother, both unfocused with glassy eyes. His mother’s were red-rimmed, and she held a handkerchief tightly in one hand. The guilt hidden from earlier struck. 

He silently thanked their governess for keeping Gregory and Hyacinth occupied, thanked that Francesca was on an outing of her own. The last thing he needed was for his littlest siblings to find out that the woman they believed to soon be their sister was one misstep away from death. And thank God for Colin’s decision to spend the day with Mondrich—one of his younger brothers in the heat of the moment was enough. 

Anthony let out a shuddering sigh, screwing his eyes shut for a moment before he ran a hand through his hair then planted his palms on his knees. He could hardly sit still but he hadn’t the slightest idea of how to get his nervous energy out. 

All he could think of was you. Of how the last word you spoke was his name. Of your dried blood on his hands, staining his clothing where he had held you. Anthony barely kept you from hitting the ground when you collapsed, and he nearly did the same once he reached his residence. 

Yelling at any servant in the proximity to call for the physician, unaware of his mother trying to calm him until she shook him by the shoulders, having to literally be forced out of the room by the physician’s assistant once they arrived because he refused to leave your side.  

It all felt like a blur, and yet he remembered it perfectly. It all played on repeat in his mind no matter how much he tried to block it out. 

The door slammed open this time, and when Anthony looked up, he felt as if he could wither away.

“Where is my daughter?” Cecilia Worthing demanded, her husband trailing after her. She was all out of sorts, with an even wilder look in her eyes and a deathly grip on her skirts. Mr. Worthing’s expression made his heart sink, with his haunted eyes and taut lips. 

“I am so sorry, Cecilia,” Violet rasped, and she crossed the room and enveloped her in her arms. It took a moment for your mother to respond, but she returned the hug as a sob escaped her. 

“Your footman said she had been injured,” your father said levelly, though his voice shook ever so slightly. “How?”

“She was stabbed,” Anthony spoke up, forcing himself to look at your parents. “Some zealot in the city. I brought her here as quick as I could.”

“The city—” your father started.

“Stabbed?” your mother interrupted, halfway into hysterics. “How?”

“We got caught up in the midst of a riot,” he said quietly. “We were separated, and I assume it happened then.”

Mrs. Worthing let out another sob as she pulled her husband into her arms, and though he kept a semblance of solemnity as he whispered to his wife and held her close, Anthony could see the fear in his eyes. 

How could he possibly offer reassurance? It felt different, staring at the desperation of your parents. The horrific realization that they might leave a family of two, might have to bury their only child. 

His stomach twisted and Anthony’s head fell into his hands again. He couldn’t. 

Eventually, Philip helped his wife onto the couch, and she remained curled into his side. No one said a word—how could they?

Apart from whispered reassurances between your parents and even shorter conversations between Benedict and Eloise, their saddened group continued in silence for the better part of an hour. No one spoke louder than a whisper, no one rose and left—they just sat together in their fear, hoping and praying that the inevitable could be denied. 

Until the door creaked open and each of their heads snapped towards the noise. Anthony shot up at the first glimpse of their physician’s assistant. 

“What news?” he asked immediately. The tension in the room had grown to be near palpably thick. 

“The surgery went well,” the assistant said, and all the air dissipated from Anthony’s chest. “Miss Worthing lives. The doctor is ensuring a final few things, but provided our treatment is followed, we believe she will recover fully.”

Anthony fell back against the couch with a breathless laugh, and Mrs. Worthing sank against her husband, wrecked by thankful sobs. Eloise’s smile was enough to brighten the whole room, Benedict’s relief just as obvious. Violet just let out an exhausted sigh, her hand pressed to her heart. 

“Thank you,” your father said. “Can we see her?” 

“Miss Worthing is resting,” he said. “You will not be able to speak to—” 

“We do not care,” your father asserted. “I need to see that my daughter is still alive.” 

The physician’s assistant nodded after a moment, and the tension lessened in his shoulders. He helped your mother up, their hands clasped tightly together, and Mrs. Worthing looked at Anthony. You truly had your mother’s eyes. 

“Will you come with us, my lord?” she asked. 

“Oh, I—” 

“You are family,” she said softly. “You’ve a right to join us.”

Emotion swelled in Anthony’s chest, and it took a moment for words to come to him. 

“Of course,” he finally said, inclining his head. “And it is just Anthony between us. Please.” 

The slightest smile spread across her lips as she nodded, and they all stood up together. Anthony took her offered arm and they started down the hallway together, your father on her other side. 

How strange it was to be arm in arm with your mother. She thought the man beside her would be her future son-in-law, when he was truly nothing but a liar. 

No, he thought, not wholly a liar. Not anymore. Because they believed that Anthony was to be your husband. And if there was anything this had proven to him, it was that he wanted nothing more than for it to be true.

Anthony just had to figure out a way to tell you. How strange that it would be the most difficult part of this ruse. 

Violet’s maid and the footman stepped aside when they arrived and the assistant opened the door. Anthony followed your parents in, and his heart nearly stopped upon seeing you.

Your mother’s eyes filled with tears as she approached your bedside, and, after a nod from the doctor, brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear and laid the back of her hand against your forehead. 

“She’s burning up,” she whispered. 

“It is typical after surgery,” the doctor said. “With any luck, she will sweat it out. I will monitor her throughout.” 

Your mother nodded, a shaky sigh escaping her, and she took your hand. 

“I am so sorry, darling,” she whispered. “I am so sorry I was not there for you.” She brought your intertwined hands up and lightly kissed the back of your hand. “I love you more than anything. Please, come back to us soon.” 

Your father joined her, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I do not know if you can hear us,” he said, voice slightly shaky, “but we are here for you. We will be here when you awaken, and every moment onwards.” 

Mrs. Worthing looked back at Anthony, inclining her head towards you. Anthony swallowed his doubt as he moved forward, but the breath was stolen from him when he could fully see you. 

Your eyes were closed. Your chest rose and fell just so, hardly noticeable, thin linens provided by the doctor rested over you, and sweat beaded on your brow. Alongside the discoloration of your skin, you looked… 

You looked as if you were dead. 

And Anthony knew that you were not—for God’s sake, you were breathing—but all he could think about, all he could see, was his father, all those years ago, dying in front of him while he could not do a single thing to stop it. And he felt that same helplessness with you; just standing there, watching, unable to do anything but hope. 

“We are here for you,” he whispered. “...I am here for you. No matter what, I am here for you. Just know that, if nothing else.” 

Your mother’s watery smile made him look to the doctor for fear of the same emotions eliciting even further in him. 

“When will she wake?” Anthony asked. His voice sounded almost foreign to him. 

“In a few hours, with any luck,” the doctor said. “At the very most, it will be the end of the day.” 

“We will gladly host her until she is able enough,” Anthony said, looking at your parents. “And we have plenty of spare rooms for you to choose from if you wish to remain by her side during those days.” 

“Thank you, Anthony.” Your mother placed her hands on his shoulders, though she had to look up at him, and she smiled. “You make her so happy. It will be my greatest pleasure to officially welcome you into our family.” 

Anthony’s throat bobbed. God above, he hoped that was the truth. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. “She… she means a great deal to me.” 

“You’re a good man, Bridgerton,” your father said. “I’m thankful my daughter will end up with someone like you.” 

“Your approval means the world,” he said, and he found he meant it wholly. 

The doctor cleared his throat. “It would be best for her visitors to be limited as of now. The parents can stay, but…” 

Anthony nodded, smoothing his lapels. “Of course.” 

“We will alert you of anything,” your mother said. Anthony nodded again, and he allowed himself one more moment to look at you before he left. 

You were alright. You would be alright. That was all that mattered. 

Still, when he found himself alone in the hallway, finally able to breathe again, he still had that weight on his shoulders. 

A revelation such as the one he’d had should have been a blessing, a relief. A man in love was meant to be a happy one. But a man in love did not usually find his feelings in the midst of season-long ruse whilst his beloved fought on her deathbed.  

Anthony blew out a loose sigh, shaking his head as he continued through the halls. Being on his own, he found, was worse than sitting in silence with his family. He was trying to think of something to say, trying to gather his emotions and push them aside so he could be the man of the house as he was meant to be, but when he reached the room from before he was only met with Eloise. 

She looked up from the floor, and he noticed the puffiness of her eyes, her slightly blotchy skin. His heart sank yet again. 

“Benedict helped Mother to bed,” she explained, her throat bobbing. “All of this exhausted her. I’ve no idea where he is now.” 

Anthony nodded, his mind still wandering. “Ah.” 

“How is she?” Eloise asked, her brows knit in concern. 

“As well as she can be.” Anthony sighed. “She has a fever, but she’s resting. Her parents are with her and the doctor is watching over her. He said she should awaken before the end of the day.” 

The furrow softened as she smiled. It was good to see her smile. “Good. That— that’s good. I’m glad.” 

“And how are you, Eloise?” Anthony asked, folding his arms. 

“As well as I can be,” she responded wryly. Anthony’s lips twitched in a momentary smile, but she leaned against the couch and let out a sigh of her own. “This all certainly ended in the best way it could have.” 

“The best way would have been for it to have never happened,” he said. “I should have prevented it—I was meant to keep her safe.” 

“Brother,” she said wearily, “I already told you that you cannot blame yourself.” 

“And I’ve never been one for listening to you,” he said dryly, “have I?” 

Eloise huffed a laugh and shook her head. “I am not a fool, Anthony. I know what is happening between you two.” 

Anthony frowned. “Eloise—”

“You love her,” she said bluntly. “Do you not?” 

He tried to say something, but no words would follow. He could only stare at his sister and her nerve, resulting in a small smile from her. 

“You are not that talented an actor, brother,” she said. “It is easier for me to believe the two of you are truly in love than that you could actually trick me in such a way.” 

He blinked. “You believe she loves me?” 

Eloise laughed, turning her head slightly. “I do,” she said. “And seeing as you are not denying it, I believe that means you love her.” 

Anthony bit the inside of his cheek. So the two of you could fool the entirety of the ton for over half the season, but apparently not Eloise. How typical. 

He walked over and took a seat on the couch next to his sister, leaving a bit of space between them. He took a deep breath before he spoke. 

“I do.” He glanced at her. “I love her.” 

Saying it aloud—admitting the truth of feelings he’d been fighting for so long—brought him an unexpected lightness. One other person knew both truths: that they had been lying about their love, and that Anthony had been lying about his lies. 

It would have been laughable had he not been so unsure of everything else. 

It took Eloise a moment to say anything back. For a while, she merely looked at him, unreadable depths in her eyes. He didn’t think he would ever be able to fully decipher his sister. 

“I know my blessing means very little in the scheme of things,” she finally said. “But know that if this does come into fruition… I will support you two. Every step of the way.” 

The smile that spread across Anthony’s lips was brighter than anything he’d experienced today, and he inclined his head. “Truly?” 

“Yes, truly,” Eloise said, a smile of her own growing though she tried to hide it as she glanced away. “It is not a big deal. Do not make it out to be one. There are far worse men that she could end up with.” 

“Alright,” he said, unabashed in his joy. For such a solemn day, Eloise had turned his mood around. 

“And I will also keep your secret,” she said breezily, “again, so do not worry about that.” 

“You say it does not mean much,” Anthony said, “but you are wrong. Your support means more to me than you know.” 

She shifted, seemingly bolstered ever so slightly by his praise. “...I’m glad.” 

He smiled as he stood back up, smoothing out the wrinkles in his outfit. Anthony grimaced as his hands came into view. He was in dire need of a bath and some new clothes. He could not deal with your blood on him for much longer. 

“I must be going,” Anthony said. “I need to clean up. And,” he sighed, “ensure that none of this has spread to the rest of the ton.” 

Eloise hummed, and Anthony was nearly at the door when she spoke up again. 

“...Thank you. For being here for me.” 

His expression softened as he glanced back at her. “I will always be here for you.” 

Her lips curved just so. Anthony had never been so thankful to no longer be at odds with one of his siblings. 

-

Your head hurt. 

That was the first thing you could truly understand as your eyes slowly cracked open, squinting while you came to. You blinked a multitude of times, trying to regain your bearings and relieve the dryness of your eyes. 

It took another moment for them to adjust to the darkness—the curtains were closed, but no light filtered through. How long had you been asleep? 

You grimaced as you shifted ever so slightly, a dull but constant ache in your chest leaving you stiff, but there was a weight of a hand in yours. You glanced over and recognized your mother, asleep but still grasping your hand. 

You smiled. She came for you after all. 

But as you tried to shift further in the bed, you groaned, a sharp column of pain shooting through you. Your mother’s eyes shot open, her body starting from instinct, but it took a moment for her to truly realize it all. 

“Nice of you to wake up,” you said wryly. 

“You—” tears sprung in her eyes, and her lips spread in a grateful grin— “You must be alright if your first words are to antagonize your mother.” 

“I am still here,” you said. You didn’t want to tell her you didn’t think you would make it. That you thought your fate was sealed when you pulled your hand away to nothing but blood. 

“That you are,” she said breathily. “Are you alright, though? How do you feel? Does it hurt?” 

“I believe I am alright,” you responded, “I feel… tired. And my chest aches.” 

“The doctor said that would be expected,” she murmured. “What do you remember?” 

“...That depends,” you said. “What do you know?” 

Your mother gave you a look as she said your full name. “This is not the time for games.” 

Your cheeks heated and you averted your eyes. “I was in the city with Anthony. I was stabbed after a riot broke out. That is all I remember.” 

“Lord Bridgerton is the reason you are alive,” your mother said. “He brought you back to Bridgerton House, and their doctor saved your life.” 

Somehow it was possible for your face to burn even more. You dragged Anthony out to that meeting, and you repaid him by making him drag your near lifeless body all the way back to his estate. 

You were the worst fake fiancee a man could have. 

You felt your eyes begin to fill with tears and you rapidly blinked them away. 

“Where is he?” you asked quietly. “Where is Anth— Lord Bridgerton?” 

Your mother gave you a knowing look. “It is alright to call him by his name, darling. It is quite clear how much he cares for you.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You could not do this. “Where is he?” 

“He is with his family,” she said. “You caused everyone quite a fright.” 

“I can imagine,” you said hollowly. 

“Would you like to see him?” she asked. “Because I am sure he—” 

“No.” The haste with which you sat up drew out another wince. “No— I…” 

You closed your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip. You could not do this. 

Your mother said your name softly. “What is it?” 

You opened your eyes, ignoring the wetness around them as you looked at her. “Anthony and I cannot marry.” 

She blinked. It looked as if it took a moment for your words to sink in. “What?” 

“We cannot marry,” you repeated. “We— we never could marry. Our courtship is a ruse.” 

Your mother blinked again, this time wholly taken aback. “What?” 

“It is a ruse,” you repeated, more forcefully. “I wanted to escape the baron, and Anthony wanted to escape a thousand desperate debutantes. I proposed a mock courtship between us, and he accepted.” 

Her brows furrowed deeper than ever before, as if she still couldn’t fully believe it. “You lied to me.” 

“To everyone,” you said. You hadn’t a clue what had gotten into you, tearing apart a story carefully crafted throughout nearly the entire season, but something burned inside of you. You couldn’t keep going with this—you couldn’t keep stringing Anthony along, not when your feelings were far more real than they had any right to be. 

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would you do such a thing?” 

“Because I did not want to marry,” you repeated. “The baron is nothing more than a lecher, and the thought of any sort of marriage to him disgusted me, but you and Father refused to listen to me. The only way to get out of it was for you to believe I had caught the affections of someone better. Anthony Bridgerton’s word was certainly better than mine in the eyes of the ton.” 

Your mother stared at the floor for much longer than you anticipated, and you could not tear your eyes away from her. 

“Mother,” you said quietly, “say something. Please.” 

“I do not quite know what to say.” She finally looked at you, and your throat bobbed. “All of our plans have hinged on this marriage for the entirety of the season. What am I to tell your father?” 

“Do not tell him,” you begged. “Please. It is enough that you know— I could not handle the shame if he were to as well.” 

“I do not keep secrets as well as you,” your mother snapped. “Marrying into the Bridgerton family would have saved us, both in riches and name. Even your dowry would have gone to use for something of your choosing.” She shook her head, clasping her hands together.  “And now you have almost died and we will have to control this and I just—” 

“I will marry Lord Cardew,” you interrupted. 

That ceased her arguments quite quickly. “What?” 

“I will marry Lord Cardew,” you repeated. “He has both riches and name.” 

Your mother frowned as she gripped your hands tighter. “You despise him. You got yourself into this entire mess in order to avoid him—you’ve said so yourself.” 

“What choice do I have?” you asked desperately. “His name is enough to weather the scandal I’ve created. His money will secure a life for you and Father, and he has a fine pedigree. It is the only way to save the Worthing name.” 

“Have you not considered the very man who has been courting you this season?” Your mother gestured with her hand. “Look where you are, darling! Lord Bridgerton has offered up his estate to us so we can be near you as you heal. Your courtship may have started as a ruse, but the man clearly feels something for you!” 

“We have become very good friends over the course of the season,” you said, “and I am thankful for it. But I cannot taint the Bridgerton name further.” 

“Dearest—”

“It is necessary,” you interrupted, but your quick movement brought on a sharp thread of pain in your chest and you winced. 

“Do not push yourself,” your mother whispered, and you nodded. 

“It is necessary,” you repeated, though slower. “My rebellion was just… naivete. I will not be the reason for our family’s ruin borne from my own stubbornness. I will secure our legacy, I will secure my future—I will marry Lord Cardew, and… and I will finally stop trying to resist my fate.” 

Your mother stared at you, and you stared back. “You said it yourself—our family’s well being hinges on my marrying into wealth. What sane man would consider me after what I’ve done?” 

She continued to look at you long and hard, her expression one of unreadable depths. “You are sure?” 

No, you wanted to say. You had never been less sure of anything in your life. But you could see no other choice. So you nodded. 

Your mother glanced away from you with a sigh, eyes searching the room for a moment before she nodded as well. “...Alright. If that is what you wish, your father and I will contact him once you are recovered.” 

“Mother—” 

“That is non-negotiable,” she said, and she smiled at you. “You may be blossoming into a true lady, but you are still my daughter. And I will not allow my daughter to do anything until she is fully healed.” 

You nodded. “Alright.” 

“I am sure that it goes without saying that you are never going to be allowed out of our sight until you are married and settled?” your mother said, and though it caused a sharp pain in your chest, you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I assumed just as much, Mother.” 

-

Dearest Reader,

It is a fact well known throughout Mayfair that the social season requires the full attention of every single person, frantic mamas and bored bachelors alike. It is a game of wits unlike any other, and this season has proven no different. The middle of our merriment marks many of the most eligible debutantes as engaged — this author pays special attention to the season’s diamond, Lady Adelaida Kennington, who has found her happy ending with the young Earl Pembroke.

Though congratulations may be due to another lady of the ton, one of the simple yet highly discussed Worthing family — as it seems, Miss Worthing has tossed aside the much desired Viscount Bridgerton for the hand of the Baron Jonathan Cardew. One can only be left to wonder what Lord Bridgerton must have done to go from an obviously incoming proposal back to his rakish ways in little more than a night, but it most certainly has to do with Miss Worthing’s recent disappearance from society. Word has passed around of her frequent visits to the lesser parts of London, engaging in activity that can only be described as scandalous. Perhaps it was not the fault of the viscount indeed—Miss Worthing may have finally pushed Lord Bridgerton to his limits. 

No matter the reason for the ending of the courtship, this author must extend her thanks to the pairing for providing such material for my pen. It is not every day a nobody in the ton manages to bring down two families at once. Perhaps Miss Worthing deserves congratulations for conducting this fantastical feat all on her own. If it was outrage she was searching for, she has certainly earned it. 

Yours Truly, 

Lady Whistledown 

You huffed a sigh and threw the leaflet across the room, letting your head fall back against the wooden headboard. It was one thing for Lady Whistledown to criticize you, it was another thing entirely for her to bring your family and the Bridgertons into it. You deserved everything that came towards you for what you had done, but your parents, the Bridgertons, Anthony— they were not a part of any of it. 

Especially when all your father had done was visit the Cardew estate to have a conversation with the man, see if he was open to the possibility of a marriage with you. Nothing was at all set in stone, but the way Whistledown told it, you were already steps from the chapel with a ring on your finger. 

So now, as if it weren’t enough that you were bed bound until your physician deemed you recovered for regular activity, as if it weren’t enough that you were likely set to be married by the end of the season, as if it weren’t enough that you were constantly denying Anthony’s requests to visit you, every single one of your idiotic mistakes was revealed to the ton through a woman too cowardly to write without a pseudonym. 

If you ever found Lady Whistledown, you thought bitterly, you would strangle her. 

The silence in your room was broken by the door opening, and when you looked up you were greeted with Julia’s face. The usual smile she bore when around you was not there, but before you could ask she answered your unspoken question. 

“I apologise for the interruption, my lady, but you have a visitor. He insisted on seeing you.” 

A small part of you knew who it was even before she stepped aside, but when Anthony Bridgerton walked into your room your breath still hitched the tiniest bit. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked immediately, holding back a grimace as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 

“I had to see you,” Anthony said. 

“And you chose to do so by invading my privacy.” 

“I have not heard a single word directly from you nor your pen since the accident,” he said, his voice not without a slight barb. But underneath it all, an uncommon hurt festered inside of him. You could not see it, exactly, but you could sense it. “Forgive me for wanting to confirm with my own eyes that you were still alive.” 

“I will remain here as a chaperone,” Julia said, closing the door behind her. “You may talk as freely as you please — I will not repeat a single word.” Anthony nodded and pulled the stool away from the vanity so he could be closer to you, then sat down. 

Despite Julia’s reassurance, neither of you spoke a word. The silence began to weigh heavily, the tension growing so thick it could be cut with a knife. For so long you had been rejecting Anthony’s requested meetings, not wanting to see him after what you had done. You feared for how he would react, both to your complete ignorance of him after your nearly fatal injury and your acceptance of Lord Cardew’s courtship. 

You left Bridgerton House without a word mere hours after your ill-fated decision despite the protests of your parents—you could not stay there for another moment under Anthony’s good graces, not when you had doomed any possible future with him. You did not deserve a single millimeter of Bridgerton good will. 

You stared down at the covers you laid under, fidgeting with your hands in your lap as you focused on everything except your visitor. You could not bring yourself to meet Anthony’s gaze, though you’d felt his own on you for the past five minutes. 

“Is it true?” 

You finally looked up at his sudden question, meeting the intensity of those dark brown eyes you’d lost yourself in so many times. “Is what true?” 

“Your marriage to Jonathan Cardew,” he said stiffly. “Is it true?” 

Just as quickly, you glanced away. It was near impossible to even be in the same room as the viscount since you had made the decision, even more so to think of the reason why it was that way. So instead, you just nodded. 

“Yes. If all works out, we are to be wed at the end of the season.” 

“Why?” Anthony leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees as his hands clenched into loose fists. “You openly despise the man—you asked me to court you to avoid him. Why in the name of all things rational would you willingly enter a marriage with him?” 

“He will provide for me,” you said. “He has money, he has land, and he is a respectable member of society. He has already been content with the possibility of marriage once, and his name is enough to weather the scandal I have created. It is the smartest choice available.”

“And what of us?” He had an almost wild look in his eyes, and the worst desire took root in you to root your fingers in his hair and ease the troubles you’d caused him. “We have spent the near entirety of the season becoming closer, and you are willing to just throw it all away for a man like Cardew?” 

“I could not trap you in a marriage you do not want,” you insisted. “You deserve more than a woman you share no love for, Anthony, and to be married to the woman who made a fool of your entire family. Lord Cardew is the only option.”

“Even if all of that is true, that does not mean it is a smart choice!” he exclaimed. “He is not a safe man to be around! If he has been pursuing you so strongly and only backed off because of my influence, what do you think will happen when you are his legal wife with no sort of protection?” 

You swallowed thickly at his words. “He is not that sort of man, Anthony. He may be… horrid, and a complete egoist, but it will be a life of comfort. And that is the life that I need.” 

Anthony laughed breathlessly, completely devoid of mirth as he frowned. “You cannot be serious. I have been by your side for an entire season of feminist rants and marriage complaints, half of which revolved around Cardew himself, and now you are telling me that you are just— just alright with this sort of compliance?” 

“Nearly dying because of my own idiotic choices has forced me to reexamine my life,” you said plainly. “If I had been even the slightest bit unlucky, I would have perished on those streets, and what would I have had to show for myself? A rebellion that I was only able to take part in because of the privilege I so often fought against?” 

“You have made a difference,” Anthony insisted. “You provided for women that no one has the gall to look out for. You’ve spoken out for your own rights, you’ve stood up for your own interests rather than sit around and take what you have been given.”

“I have been fighting against a life that so many less fortunate than myself would kill for,” you said. “I believed death to be a better fate than being forced to marry a man I did not love, but when I was on death’s door, I realized how foolish I was— how utterly selfish.” 

“You are not selfish,” Anthony said, but you shook your head. 

“I am. Unbelievably so.” You huffed a mirthless laugh as you looked at him. “My parents did not love each other when they married, but they were friends. They could tolerate the other’s presence, and neither of them were fortunate enough to be able to care about anything else. They have grown to love each other in their own way, of course, and they are in a better situation now, but they could not have known it would turn out that way. They did what they had to for the sake of their families and themselves, and it is time I do the same.” 

“Love matches are rare,” you murmured. “And even if I were granted the opportunity… I would not deserve it.”

Anthony shook his head. “Do not say that.” 

“It is the truth,” you said, letting out yet another humorless laugh. “I have been horrible to my mother when all she has ever wanted is a better life for me than she had. I have fought her for every step of the way for no other reason than my hubris and the dim belief that I deserved different than everyone else simply because I wanted it, no matter what the greater good was. How can that not be selfish, Anthony?” 

“You do not have to do this,” he insisted. “You said you dreamed of unmarried life! You told me your fantasies of escaping from society, of living on your own and depending on no one but yourself. You are willing to give all of that up, just like that?”

“I was a fool for ever doing so!” you exclaimed. “Anthony, this world is hard enough on its own for married women — what do you think will become of my family if I do not marry? What do you think will become of me?”

“But you are strong.” Anthony leaned forward, his brow knit in determination. “You are strong, and intelligent, and fully capable of managing on your own. Spinster brand be damned, if it is what you wish, you will flourish completely!”

“Will I?” you questioned, and you gestured at yourself. “I am bound to this room of my own doing because I refused to see the truth of the world around me. I was young and naive to believe I could achieve anything of the sort I dreamed of without consequences, and I will be naive no longer.”

“If you insist on marrying, at least find somebody else,” Anthony begged. “You will be miserable for the rest of your life if you marry Jonathan Cardew.” 

“I cannot afford to marry for love, my lord,” you said simply, “and even if I could find a man who loved me, I could never love them back. I would not force anyone into a marriage they did not want, not when…” You trailed off, the words catching in your throat.

You shook your head, choking them down. “It is not important.”

“Please do not marry him,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I beg of you.” 

“Then who should I marry?” you asked, almost brazenly. “Who should I marry, if not him? I am certainly not one for options.”

You did not know what you wanted Anthony to say. To marry him? That he felt the same for you as you did for him? That, while you were indeed a fool for falling for him, he was one as well. That he would not leave you, not now, nor ever. 

But instead he just stared at you with those dark brown eyes that even now could make you melt, a million emotions brewing inside of them yet none of them being given an outlet. 

“I do not know,” he murmured, and your heart sank. “But I beg of you, do not let it be him.”

“It is not your decision to make,” you said quietly. “Soon I will be engaged to Lord Cardew, and I will be out of your life.”

There was an underlying desperation in Anthony’s eyes as he looked at you now, that storm of emotions thundering inside of him begging to be expressed. “I do not want you out of my life.”

The words felt like poison leaving your lips. “You do not have a choice.” 

Before Anthony could protest any further, you stood up and looked over at your lady’s maid. “Please escort Lord Bridgerton outside. I wish to be alone.” 

“My lady, are you—” 

“Julia,” you said, your voice strained, “please.” 

She nodded and she gestured for Anthony towards the door, but he did not move a centimeter.

Anthony said your name with such pain that you could not even stand to look at him, the inside of your lip drawn so tightly between your teeth that you could taste blood all in the effort to prevent tears from emerging.

“Do not make this harder than it has to be,” you whispered. “I beg of you, Anthony.”

“Lord Bridgerton,” Julia said quietly, “please obey my lady’s wishes.”

He stared at you with desperation before he finally nodded and walked out the door, Julia closing it behind him. 

You screwed your eyes shut as you dug the heels of your palms into your forehead, letting out a frustrated sob as your hands dropped back down. The pinpricks of tears were already starting, and while you were thankful you were alone, you already longed for Anthony’s presence. 

You wished, more than ever, that things could be how they used to be. You wished you’d never even made this ridiculous deal with him—then you would not be in such pain, yearning for a man you could never have while the reputation of you and your family was destroyed and your life fell to pieces around you. You could not do a single thing about it, and you could not blame a single soul for it other than yourself. 

You’d never felt so useless.

-

taglist, only bc this series has been going on since i still had a taglist lmao. pls dont ask to be added because i do not do tag lists anymore!! follow me or rb the masterlist or something idk @ifilwtmfc @readers-post @fangirling-galore @funkydinosaurs @baby-i-am-fireproof @mess-is-my-aesthetic @likeballet @mdkfh @brezzybfan @magical-spit @lafy-taffy @miss-celestial-being @mercurysrhapsody @evilsailorsenshi @mainstreambitchlife @aangsupremacy @chloepluto1306 @lostaudfound @panhoeofmanyfandoms @blhemmings @my-acrylic-heart @seninjakitey @vlodi @arianagrandes-things @preciousbabypeter @youraliendaddo @stupidlittlebei @illuminwtesz @eringaitskill @otheliesstuff @users09 @chloepluto1306 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @m-rae23 @the-horror-and-the-wild-simp @diemdurantia @theyoungestchild0w0 @mschievousx @alwaysreading1019 @ibelieveindragons141 @pretzywetzy

[1800-fight-me]

Love your writing :) Could you please do a story where reader/Aemonds wife gets captured and taken on a ship

Before Aemond of course comes to rescue his love

The Rogue Prince

Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Rating: M (Mature - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, implied smut

Word count: About 3.5k

Synopsis: Aemond Targaryen is loyal to his family and house above all, but what happens when his wife is captured and in mortal peril?

Author’s note: Thank you for this request! I hope you enjoy it!! Protective and possessive Aemond owns me... also I started writing this before I knew the plot of season two so the timeline of this fic doesn't make much sense but let's just pretend it does, okay? lol

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Here's the link to my Aemond Masterlist if you want to check out my other stories! Also my requests are open, please send me some more!!

There was commotion in King’s Landing. Chaos. Terror. 

You were not within the safety of the Red Keep as you normally were, as you should be. 

There was so much screaming you couldn’t think straight. 

Alicent grabbed your hand, her other hand in Helena's and pulled you both forward. 

The crowd pushed and heaved and you yelled as your hand slipped from your mother in law’s. 

Pure terror shot down your spine as the push of the crowd led you away from them, away from your family by marriage, away from the King’s Guards, away from safety. 

You were lost in a sea of limbs and panic, your screams completely unheard over the cacophony of scared sounds. 

You couldn’t even determine the source of the commotion, you didn’t see it, only the after effect as you were now pushed down the streets of the city. 

Water dripped down your cheeks, and when you looked up, the sky was clear. You continued to run with the crowd, in order to avoid being knocked over and trampled. 

You lifted a hand to your face, and realized you were crying. 

Another hand grabbed yours, and you gasped in relief, as you were harshly pulled to the side and into an alley. 

Your gasping breaths slowed as the crowd no longer threatened to crush you. 

You clenched your jaw and steeled your resolve as you realized the person who pulled you to safety was a stranger with a predatory gleam in his eyes. 

You lifted your chin and yanked your hand out of his. 

“Thank you for the assistance, kind sir, but I must get going. My family is expecting me,” you said firmly. 

A hateful chuckle came from the darkness behind you. 

You whirled around and saw two malicious looking men, behind them in the darkness there were two young women sitting on the ground with their hands and legs bound and gags in their mouths. There was fear unlike any you’d ever known in their eyes. 

That same fear now dripped down your spine, but you couldn’t give into it, instead you steeled your spine. 

“How much do you think we can get for this one?” The shorter man sneered. 

You thought of how your husband spoke to his enemies and tried to emulate that same haughty tone as you looked down your nose at them.

“I am a Targaryen. Return-“

”But you don’t got silver hair,” one of the men blurted out. 

You wrinkled your nose, ever the royal, and said, “I am the wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen. Return me to the Red Keep safely and I will make it certain you are rewarded for your goodwill.” 

The men’s smiles grew greedy. 

“Imagine how much we can get in ransom,” the one behind you muttered. 

“That would be an incredibly stupid course of action. The Prince is a viciously protective man and would surely kill any who attempt to kidnap me. He once broke a man’s arm for grabbing me in the halls of the Red Keep. Another time he broke a man’s nose for looking at me too long. It is in your best interest to leave me be,” you said sternly. 

The shorter one had the sense to look scared, but the bigger one, the scarier one, looked only overconfident. 

“The One Eyed Prince is not in King’s Landing, is he? I hear he is far away tending to the ongoing war within his house,” he said as he narrowed his eyes at you. 

You gulped. 

“He rides the largest dragon in the world, it would be a quick thing for him to be here to incinerate you all,” you said, your confident tone wavering slightly. 

“He’s not here now,” the one behind you said, and before you could look back at him there was pain as something hit you in the side of the head and the world turned black as you fell. 

You were floating on a sea of fire, the motion of the waves of flame rocking you back and forth, the gentleness bringing you a sense of peace and reassurance you had not felt since your husband mounted his dragon and flew off to war. 

The sky cracked open and rain poured as lightning flashed. But the flames you swam in remained strong, boosted you up, and as a bolt of lightning flashed towards you in slow motion, you held your hand up and the waves of fire surrounded you, protecting you from danger.

As you resurfaced you pointed your finger at the thundercloud and the fire shot like an arrow and decimated it. 

Someone shook your shoulder and as you woke, your body still rocked back and forth with waves, only furthering your disorientation as you found yourself  somewhere completely foreign. 

“Aemond?” You mumbled as nausea threatened to overcome you. 

“Princess,” a female voice said and you cracked your eyes open to find yourself in a fully wooden room with two women. They both laid on the floor in the tiny room, same as you. 

“Where am I?” You asked bewildered. Your head pounded and as you reached your hand and touched the side of it, you felt a tender bruise and hissed in pain. 

“Princess, don’t you remember? We were captured,” the other woman said. 

It all came rushing back to you and you pressed your lips together to avoid vomiting. 

“Y-yes, where are we?” 

“Somewhere in the middle of the sea,” the younger woman said quietly, her tone distraught. 

You were on a ship, shoved in a small room, surely in the hull, that had been transformed into a temporary dungeon you discovered as you stood, losing your balance for a moment, and attempted to open the locked door. 

“We already tried that,” the one with the dark hair said. 

You sighed. “Of course you did.” 

“How long have we been in here?” You asked, panic filling your chest. 

“My guess is a day and a half,” the younger woman said. 

You sank to your knees and allowed the tears to fill your eyes as the despair hit. 

You later learned that the names of the women you were trapped with were Marrion and Eliza. They were both as terrified as you, but managed to learn as much as they could about the men who held you, which they relayed to you in hushed tones for fear of the guard outside the door overhearing. 

“Is it true that your husband will come to rescue you?” Eliza asked hopefully. 

You pressed your lips together. “Yes, but who knows how long it will take him to learn of my capture, to find me?” 

Both the women looked down in dismay. 

You knew that Aemond would abandon his war, his family, his life for you. You knew he would fight, would bleed, would die for you. Such was his love and devotion to his wife, but his family knew that as well, and a small voice in the back of your head worried and warned you that perhaps his scheming grandsire would prevent word of your predicament to be sent to your husband. 

You wondered if you prayed to Vhagar if she would hear it and lead your husband to you, she was practically a goddess of war in her own right. You didn’t believe in any of the other gods your husband and his family worshiped.

“We need to make our own plan in the meantime,” you said firmly and they nodded. 

You lifted your skirt and pulled out the sapphire embedded dagger strapped to your thigh that your husband gifted you on your name day. 

Your companions had watched the men’s patterns before you awoke, and you based your plan off that. Listening to your husband and offering him support taught you a decent amount about strategy, and hours of training with him had taught you self defense skills as well, and it was time to put both to use, this time with you having the element of surprise, not the horrible men who stole you. 

The next day, when the guard unlocked and opened the door that kept your prisoner, you were prepared to charm and simper, but the man smiled at you in a way that made your stomach sink, and threw a dress at you. 

“The captain demands your presence, you have ten minutes to ready yourself,” he said with another lingering look before turning and slamming the door shut again. The lock was loud as it was clicked back into place. 

“Well that makes things a bit easier,” you said and both women laughed in shock with you before they helped you make yourself look more presentable. 

As you made your way towards the captain’s office, the pirates aboard the ship stared and sneered. You blinked against the brightness of the sun as it glittered over the blue sea. There was no sight of land that you could see, nothing but depthless ocean, no option for escape but a watery grave. 

Your hopes of an easy getaway were dashed, you had no idea how long you would be forced to remain on this ship until it reached land and you could enact your strategy for release. 

There was also no sight of Vhagar, no dragon roar in the winds, no dashing husband with a sword in hand, no one to save you. 

Your heart sunk to your stomach. 

The captain grinned at you, and you held in your grimace as you followed him into the room he led you to. 

There was a table in the center of the room, food laden upon it, and your stomach growled in protest. 

He chuckled at the sound, “Please, eat as much as you desire.” 

He sat across the table from you and you waited until he filled his plate and took a few bites, before you tore into the food before you, uncaring of being ladylike due to the feeling of starvation. 

“I hear you are a princess,” the man said and you looked up at him as you used your napkin to wipe your mouth. 

“Your men stole me from my wedded family,” you said. 

“The Targaryens,” he said. 

You nodded, unable to withhold your glare. 

“They’re not my men, in case you are interested, just men who sell me goods that make me gold,” he drawled and you resisted the urge to slap him. 

“I am not an item to be bartered and sold, I am the wife of Aemond Targaryen and you will release me safely or my dragon will burn you and your entire operation to the ground,” you said, softly but with passion. 

He had the gall to laugh at you. 

You gritted your teeth and attempted to quell your temper, but your fiery temperament was difficult to leash, it was what attracted your husband to you in the first place. 

“You’re a hateful bastard,” you spat. 

He laughed again, “Guilty as charged. Princess, when we reach our destination across the sea, your husband’s family will be contacted and ransom will be posted. My crew and I will get our money and you will be returned home.”

You glared, wishing your look could kill. Your hand inched up your leg, grazing the sheathed dagger hidden under your skirts that hadn’t been found and confiscated during your capture. 

Pirates began screaming and then there was an earth shattering roar. 

You smirked. 

He pulled out his sword and pointed it at you and rested the tip against your throat. 

“You will die for this,” you purred. 

“Stay put,” he said as he then stood and walked past you to the door. 

As he opened the door, there was the most glorious sight to behold. Vaghar cast a shadow over the ship large enough it was nearly dark as night. Aemond’s silver hair shined as he climbed down a rope from her saddle and landed on the ship, his sword out and began slaughtering. 

“Targaryen,” the captain yelled as he stepped out and stood on the bannister, looking down as your husband cut down his men. 

You stood and quietly slipped your dagger from its sheath as you crept behind the captain. 

“Where is my wife?” Aemond bellowed. 

Heat filled you in response to his presence, his rage. 

The captain opened his mouth to respond when a blade pierced the back of his neck, pushed through, and broke through on the other side of his throat, before the dagger was withdrawn. Red splattered as he choked on his own blood, the only sounds of his surprise. 

He turned around to look at his attacker and you gave him a feral grin. 

“I told you that you and your entire ship would burn,” you said sweetly before you pushed him over the railing, ignoring the sound and sight of his crippled body on the wood as you looked up at your Aemond. 

The fighting had indeed paused as all were shocked by the death of the captain. 

“I am here,” you said, blood spattered and filled with relief. 

Aemond released a sigh of relief and gave you a feral grin. 

“Come to me,” he said as his sword clashed with another, the men regaining their wits and attempting to kill him once more. 

Everything in you wanted to yield to his command, to run to him, to be in his arms, but you had one more task to complete. 

“In a minute,” you called out as you took off running back towards the cell you were kept in. As you looked back, you saw the confused quizzical look he threw at you as he continued to stab and end the lives of the men who stole you from him. 

You raced down the hallway, having memorized the way, and saw the guard as he unlocked and opened the door where your companions were kept. 

You stabbed him in the back, and ripped your dagger out, so when he turned around in surprise, you stabbed him again in the heart. 

You yanked your dagger from him as you looked at the women, and yelled, “Follow me!” 

You ran back from the belly of the ship to the safety of your dragon. But as soon as you were out in the open and saw him again, you realized he was in trouble. 

He was the most skilled fighter, but he was overwhelmed by numbers. You threw your dagger at a man about to stab him in the back, and it found its home in the enemy's forehead.

You then picked up a sword off a deceased body and attempted to fight, but the sword was quickly knocked from your hands.  

Your foe held his sword to your throat and you huffed in frustration. 

Marrion and Eliza hid behind you, and at least eight men stood between you and Aemond. 

“Enough,” the man who held your life in his hands yelled. 

The fighting stopped and Aemond’s gaze met yours across the ship. Fire gleamed in his eye, blood coated his hands, splattered across his clothing, his handsome face, his silver hair. He was a god of vengeance, your protector, the bearer of your heart and soul. 

“Return my wife to me,” he snarled. 

“We outnumber you, yield,” the man closest to him said through gritted teeth. 

“I do believe you are forgetting something,” Aemond said with a smirk and Vhagar roared loud enough to rock the boat. 

You huffed a laugh. 

The men took a step back from your husband, shaking in their boots. 

Aemond held his hand out to you, you looked back to the man who threatened you, and with a sigh he lowered his sword from your throat. You ran into Aemond’s embrace, he pulled you close with one arm even as he continued to hold his sword up against the men. 

The other two women followed you, and hid behind the two of you. 

“My love,” he murmured, “Climb aboard Vhagar and lead your companions to do the same. I will be there momentarily.”

You pressed a kiss to his blood smattered cheek and did as he ordered. You climbed the rope that led you to Vhagar’s saddle, and as you got settled, you assisted the others in doing the same. 

Aemond continued his stand off with the men who remained. When one jumped forward, attempting to attack, he unleashed himself. 

The opponents were no match for your dragon, despite their numbers, and Aemond slayed as many as he could, before grabbing onto the rope. 

With words in High Valyrian dripping from his tongue, he ordered his dragon to fly, taking him higher and away from the men who attempted to take you from him. 

Only moments passed, and then he yelled, “Dracarys.” 

Liquid fire encompassed the pirate ship and it burned just as you predicted it would. 

You watched the ship, the men on it, burn to ashes before sinking into the ocean as Aemond climbed atop Vhagar’s saddle and situated himself behind you, wrapping his arms around you, the other two women behind him. 

“Let’s go home, my love,” he said in your ear, gently and reassuring. 

You nodded, sinking into his embrace, and only tearing your eyes from the wreckage when it sunk beneath the watery depths. 

The return to King’s Landing was quick, and trusted guards returned the women with you safely to their homes, but not before you offered them jobs in the Red Keep, which they tearfully accepted. Descriptions were given of the men that sold you to the pirates, and you knew they would be dead by nightfall. f

Then, your husband led you to the small council chambers, you walked in feeling bashful, but he strutted in, led you to sit as he stood behind you, one hand on the back of your chair the other on your shoulder. 

“Aemond!” His mother exclaimed. 

He ignored her and instead glared at his grandsire. 

“Why was I not properly informed that my wife had been stolen,” he growled. 

“You left your post,” Otto replied. 

“I don’t give a shit about my post. My wife was in danger. Days went by, days that she was no longer in your protection as you had promised,” he said, his voice raised. 

“Aemond, we were doing everything we could to get her back,” Alicent attempted to soothe. 

“Not enough,” Aemond said through gritted teeth. 

“It was a calculated decision to not inform you, the hope was that we would have her back safety before you discovered that she was ever gone-“

”You calculated wrong.” Aemond said, his voice low and dark, the promise of violence so strong that you looked back at him and placed your hand atop his own. 

“Aemond, I am fine, I am safe,” you reassured. 

He glanced down at you, the words seeming to smooth some of the jagged panic inside him.

“And we are so grateful that you are,” Alicent replied. 

Aemond looked back up. 

“We need you to return, you and Vhagar are essential-“ 

“Fuck that,” Aemond said as he tugged on your hand, pulling you up out of your chair and by his side as he turned to leave. 

“Aemond!” Alicent protested. 

“My wife will stay by my side,” Aemond announced as you both exited the room. 

”My love?” You asked, breathless as he walked swiftly through the halls of the Red Keep, keeping you with him. 

“I will return to the war efforts on the morrow and you will come with me, do you understand? I cannot breathe when you are not near me. I cannot breathe when you are not safely in my arms. I cannot- “ 

“Aemond, look at me,” you said gently as you placed your hand on the side of his face. 

You had pulled him to a stop right in front of your chambers, they had gone unused since you wed him as he had immediately moved you into his own. 

His breathing was ragged, panic still threatening to pull him under. 

“You saved me. I am here. And I will stay by your side always, if that is what you desire,” you said softly but passionately. 

His lips crashed into yours. 

His grip was tight as he pulled you against the hard planes of his body. 

Your heart soared as his passion threatened to consume you. The waves of his fiery passion threatened to pull you under as his tongue tangled with yours and he moved, leading you to step back until your back hit the door and he pressed you against it. His hands roved from gripping your hips, one grazing the underside of your breast, the other caressing the side of your throat. 

He pulled his lips from yours long enough to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out, “Always?” 

“Always,” you promised as you pulled his lips back to yours. 

His hand reached the handle of the door behind you, and he guided you into the room. He spent the night proving his devotion to you, imprinting himself on and inside your body, giving you pleasure of unparalleled heights. 

And the next morning, your dragon kept his promise of always, and brought you with him, holding you tight and close on Vhagar’s back as he returned to wage war against his foes. 

[liketolovexx]

heyyy, can i request good old enemies to lovers with so much angst but ends with fluff with sirius??? maybe they used to be friends before and Sirius just suddenly turned cold? and the reader was giving the same energy and all they do is bicker and one time the reader just burst out about how siri is being a prick and then it ends with confession?? it's very long 😭😭im sorry

Hey guys!!! Sorry I’m going through requests VERRRRY slowly atm but please feel free to leave requests in my inbox for me to get round to <3 love u all so much

Also, I included reader seeing Regulus as a little brother figure and looking after him, because I can’t not :-( sorry if it puts u off the fic!!

(CW: LOTS of angst, child abuse from walburga, sad Sirius, sad Regulus, Sirius being cold and cruel to cope with loss, basically the reader being the black brother’s best friend, ends with fluff<3)

“I used to love you.” ~S.O.B

{you were from a pure blood family, best friends with Sirius Black. You comforted him through his mother’s cruelty, and fell in love along the way. Until Sirius ran away, leaving you to protect his little brother from harm out of the love you still held. Now, when you see him in school, you give him a reciprocated glare. But why does he hate you?}

“Sirius, come here!” Came the harsh, threatening voice of Walburga Black, she sounded angry, really angry, and you watched Sirius tense, looking up from the book you were reading together. His eyes were wide, face whiter than usual, holding much more terror than a little boy should ever have to endure. You put a hand on his shoulder, warming him in this cold house. “Hey, it’s fine. Whatever happens, you can come back up to me after. I’ll take care of you.” You told him. You may have been only children at the time, but the way Sirius nodded and his silver eyes softened and glittered with tears, you knew you had a certain way with him.

Alone in Sirius’s room, you played with your hands, shoulders stiff as you listened to the mother scream ruthlessly at her son, trying not to picture the broken, guilty, vacant expression you knew would be adorning Sirius’s tear-stained face. You couldn’t hear Sirius’s responses to Walburga’s yelling, you knew he froze up when he was scared, so he’d be mumbling in response. “I DONT CARE IF YOUR FRIEND IS UPSTAIRS. YOU ARE A DISGRACE ALREADY!” She yelled. You had to cover your ears when gut-wrenching cries and wails started to echo up the stairs. Walburga was using the crucio curse on her son. Again.

~~~

Soon, the screams ceased and Sirius rushed up the stairs and into his room where you still sat. He slammed the door desperately, and crumbled to the floor beneath it, shaking like a leaf and loud sobs starting to make his small back heave. You leaped off of his bed and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his back, but he flinched away from you with a sharp, choked gasp. That was when the first crack painfully sliced its way through your heart. To see your best friend weak and bawling on the floor of his bedroom, scared of even you, was an agonising feeling. Eventually, Sirius realised you wouldn’t hurt him, and wiggled into your lap, crying quieter now. His head found its way into your neck as he cried, and you could feel his wet tears snaking down your skin.

“Sirius, I’m here.” You whispered into his disheveled black curls. At that, you felt his body weaken in your lap. Before you knew it, he was asleep ontop of you, your arms wrapped around him. He stirred, turning slightly, slipping down your body so his head lay comfortably on your chest, and your face scrunched in both pity and guilt. A puddle of thick crimson blood stuck his hair to his pale forehead. You hated yourself for not being able to stop his mother from hurting him. Watching his body rise and fall with each peaceful breath he took as he slept, you spat on your sleeve and wiped the blood away, earning a harsh twitch and broken whimper from the raven-haired boy. He deserved nothing but peace.

With Sirius draped over your body like a snow-white blanket, hair splayed over you like he’d claimed you as his own bed, the door creaked open. You tensed, holding Sirius tighter, ready to give anything to protect him if Walburga showed in the door, but instead, a small frame appeared. Regulus. “Oh, Regulus.. did the shouting scare you?” You ask softly. The boy nods. He’s the spitting image of his big brother. “Is Siri okay?” He murmurs, rubbing his eye. You nod. “C’mere.”

Regulus tucks himself into the crook of your arm, head laying on the flesh of your shoulder. With big eyes mirroring Sirius’s, he peers up at his brother. “Heard mama shouting at him. He breaked something, I think.” Regulus explains shyly. “Mh. Your mother isn’t kind to Sirius. She isn’t kind to you either.” You say, more to yourself than him. He still nods in agreement. You stroke Sirius’s hair as he shifts in his sleep. “I’ll get you both out one day. And… and me and Sirius can get married. And you can be the best man-“ you describe your fantasy to the small boy, who has a wonderful smile creasing his little face, eagerly listening to each and every detail of the life he hoped to one day live.

~~~

You were now both in hogwarts. Over the years, Sirius had become rebellious, learning to fight back to his mother, but this always resulted in the crucio curse, which resulted in him collapsing in your arms. You were, admittedly, all he had. You and his little brother, who he’d noticed following the path of his parents. He hated the fact that regulus was so obedient to their inane beliefs. He hated it. It was only you who could calm his rushing mind.

It took only one night for everything to change. You weren’t over at his house, so he was alone, and he had a particularly bad row with his mother. After using the crucio curse on the boy until his thin limbs were tangled and trembling on the ground, his jet black curls tangled and his bitten-raw lip quaking like a child’s. While he was in this state, his mother mocked him. All he wanted was to be in the safety of your arms right now. He knew that although you came from a pure-blood family, you were not evil. You were good. You were like him, but braver. Kinder.

That night, Sirius knew he couldn’t live in this house anymore. He packed a bag full of clothes, essentials, and was unable to resist taking Regulus’s old teddy bear, an old shirt of yours and a necklace that was matching with you. He tied up his dark hair and slipped on his leather jacket. He’d grown out his hair because his parents didn’t approve of it: he wore the jacket simply because his parents didn’t like the 70s-rocker look. He’d do anything to escape those sleek black suits, hair styled tidily, silver and jewels everywhere he looked. In this house, he was nothing but a decoration, so he vowed to make his appearance undesirable to his parents. But, you always thought it suited him. While he crept silently down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the fancy patterned carpet, he heard a creak. His heart stopped. Fuck, he thought. Its mum. I’m never getting out. Oh, god, I’m never getting out.

“Siri?”

A small voice asked. It was Regulus. Sirius spun around where he stood to see an unruly mop of black curls matching his, framing a pale, soft face that didn’t at all suit the bitter yet elegant brutality of his family. “Reg.” was all Sirius could squeak.

“…you’re leaving aren’t you?”

“…yeah.”

“Oh.”

Regulus looked at his feet. He looked back up at his older brother.

“I’ll be by myself, Sirius.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. He fought back the tears.

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I love you.”

Regulus’s daintily perfect face crumpled. “You can’t go, Siri, I don’t-.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone. Not with them.” Sirius opened his arms. His little brother crashed into them like he’d disappear if he wasn’t fast. “I’m sorry, reg. I love you, but I can’t stay.” He murmured. Regulus was now sobbing into his shoulder. Sirius felt like the worst person on earth. He needed to get to James’s house before his mother woke up. “Regulus, I have to go.” He told him, petting the back of his head. Regulus suddenly pushed his brother back. Sirius recognised this; the anger that reg was displaying. When he was the same age, when he felt vulnerable, he disguised it with anger. He still did. “F-fine. Go. I don’t need you.” Regulus spat, his glistening silver eyes betraying him. “You’re… you’re really… really mean, Sirius, you know that?” He tried to hiss, but it turned out as a cracked whimper. Sirius felt his heart shatter in his chest. Stinging tears dripped down his cheeks.

“I love you, Regulus.”

“…”

Regulus walked to his room.

~~~

Sixth year.

Sirius had decided that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. With him leaving home, being a blood traitor, he knew he’d only cause you trouble. He couldn’t bare the thought of it. Little did he know he’d be doing just that.

When break had ended, you’d gone to greet your best friend. “Sirius! I’m sorry I didn’t see you much over the holiday, god, how’s regulus? Are you-“ your shoulders clashed together as he continued walking. much to your confusion, he walked straight past you with the icy glare of his father. “…Sirius?” You tried again, catching up with him and grabbing onto his shoulder. The physical contact from the person he loved most hurt like the touch of searing iron, and he flinched away. “Fuck off! Can’t you just.. just fucking go away?” He growled. His silver eyes were a stormy grey, he hated himself more as he watched your face fall. “What..?” You breathed, looking so heartbroken. He hated himself for making you hurt as well as his little brother.

He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.

Trying to soothe the ache in his chest, he rushed past you. He left you standing in the ruins of what he had torn down.

From then on, everything changed.

~~~

Sirius Black was not your best friend anymore. He was cold and unresponsive, shooting you murderous glares whenever you saw him. He’d make offensive comments at you when he came close enough to communicate with you, and it confused you immensely. What happened to the boy who came to you for comfort? Who cried in your arms and begged you to keep him safe and warm? What happened to your boy? Your best friend? Only god knows.

You didn’t even know Sirius had run away until your parents informed you that you couldn’t go around to the Black’s house anymore. This had sparked a heated argument. “What? He ran away? He didn’t tell me!” You’d exclaimed. “Yes. To the Potter’s house, we hear. Walburga has burned his picture off of the tapestry, and-“

“Wait, what? I can’t go round anymore? What about Regulus?”

“No. Walburga doesn’t allow guests to see her children anymore.”

“What? No, no, no, I need to see Reg. come on, Dad, he needs me!”

Long story short, your argument was to no avail. You couldn’t see Regulus. You couldn’t protect him from his parent’s wrath like you had his brother. Alike Sirius, you spent some of your nights lying awake thinking about Regulus, alone and cold in that hellish house, and most of your night thinking about Sirius, and what you did to make him despise you so.

Soon enough, You and Regulus had fixed your relationship, and many nights you’d find yourself singing the youngest Black brother to sleep. You could comfort him from within the walls of hogwarts where his mother couldn’t hurt him. Even when Sirius hated you, you cared for his brother like he was your own.

~~~

At first, you’d tried to coax Sirius into talking to you. You’d stood with tight lips while he insulted you, and listened to his hateful, meaningless rants. You noticed how his friends, James, Peter and Remus, stopped egging him on when it came to you, and started nudging him or trying to distract him, as if he’d say something he’d regret. But you’d come to think that Sirius black was remorseless.

You weren’t sure why he’d switched up on you, become so mean. You did, however, decide that you would be just as harsh right back to him. You knew you could never bring yourself to hate him. He owned your heart, whether you liked it or not. You learned to hate that you couldn’t help that.

It had soon been a year. One torturous year of finding your spells book torn to shreds, looking at dark eyes that you once knew so well only to see an unrecognisable boy. The smirk that once brought warmth to your chest now opened a bottomless pit in your stomach. With each day, you ached more and more. So did he. Sirius loathed himself indescribably. He knew that if he told you, even after the torture he’d subjected you to, you’d kiss his forehead like old times and tell him it was okay. Tell him that he was good, and he’d never be like his parents, and that you were there for him. You were an amazing person, and he was horrible. But he couldn’t drop his facade now.

You were just trying to study when a voice you’d come to find agitating and grating permeated the silence of the library. “Ooh, little blood supremacist… what you studying? Dare I say dark magic?” Rolling your eyes, you slammed the textbook shut. “shut up, Black. You came from quite the same roots.” “Maybe: but I was brave enough to get out. I was good enough to get out.” He retorted with a grimace. Looking up to meet his cold gaze, you noted that his creased white shirt was unbuttoned, his crimson and gold tie hanging loose over his shoulders, only curls pinned up carelessly with his wand. A dangerous hairstyle, for sure.

“Would you give it a break? I was the reason you didn’t go crazy in that house.”

“I did go crazy in that house.”

“Yeah, I can fucking tell.” You said with a scoff. He pulled away your notebook. “So, have you got the dark mark yet? Godric knows you’ll be ecstatic-“ “why are you such a dick, Sirius?!” You yell hoarsely, jumping to your feet. His eyebrows furrowed at your outburst. Slightly, his eyes softened at the sight of your glassy ones, brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, lips parted. “You’re.. you’re a fucking prick. I never did anything to you.” Turning away to hide your face which had turned pink as it did when you were about to cry, You started upstairs to your dormitory.

~~~

knock, knock, knock.

Someone rapped on your dorm’s door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock.

Someone was incredibly impatient. You used the palm of your hand to dry your eyes slightly and sniffled. “What? Who is it?” You croaked. A voice answered, “please can I come in?” You frowned. This time, it was a voice you knew. You recognised it, broken and weak, pained, yet honey-smooth all the same. That was your Sirius. Your heart hurt again knowing you’d never have him back, not fully. You fully believed this was another of his cruel pranks.

“Come in.” You mumbled.

As Sirius muttered your name, you felt you were transported back to your childhood. When you’d play and read together. Laugh and smile. “What do you want, Black.” When you said that, his lip twitched, face scrunching slightly. He looked as if the words physically pained him. With that expression painted on his face, he looked just like he did as a child. Except now, his hair was longer, his face more angular, more beautiful. “Don’t call me that. Please.” He begged, voice cracking with emotion. You looked up at him with a waning expression of anger. “Why not? You have been awful to me, I will call you what I choose.” You say. He whimpers pitifully.

He shuts the door behind him. You hear him mumble something. “What did you say, Black?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your body is tense. Everything is silent. You have one question.

“Why were you so angry with me when you left?”

He hesitated, before answering as raw and truthful as he can. “Because I was stupid. I knew nothing but that I loved you. And I hated myself, and I couldn’t hurt you any further.”

“What? Hurt me? Hurt me how?”

“I burdened you all those years, with my weeping and pathetic pleas for comfort after my mother hurt me. When I could only feel safe shrouded in your warmth. I needed you. And I need you now. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

Nothing felt real. You reached a hand out, and Sirius lowered himself so that his cheek rested in your palm. It was cold.

“You’re cold.” You stated blankly.

“I’m fine.” He protested.

You pulled him into your bed. Seconds later, you stretched out your arms. With a sob of relief, Sirius fell into your embrace. He cried silently into your neck for a while, reminiscent of the time you helped him as a kid, except this time you were both much bigger. You pet his hair affectionately, a tear sliding from your eye. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so in love with you. You don’t even need to love me back. I just… need this.” He said, voice muffled as he presses his face into your shoulder.

“…I never stopped loving you.” You admit, pulling him in closer.

~~~

You both spoke through the night, smiling and laughing and talking, telling secrets and jokes and all of the inbetween. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the lamp in your dorm. He was so beautiful anywhere. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sounding lovesick and dazed. You laughed softly. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are. But that doesn’t matter to me.” You kiss his forehead, before pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. “You are good.” He practically melts into you.

Sirius falls asleep safe in the crook of your arm, and you fall asleep with one arm under him and the other around his waist, with the peace of mind that you can protect him always, now. Your boy. Your Siri.

You looked down at him, running your fingers through the roots of his hair. He moans lowly in satisfaction, practically purring as he presses himself against you. “Now we can get married: with Reggie as the best man, just like we dreamed. With a pretty house and a four-poster bed.” You said, a sweet, hopeful smile gracing your lips.

“Mmmh.” Sirius groaned sleepily. “As long as we can christen that bed.” He added, eyes still closed, with that stupid Sirius Black smirk on his face. You scoff, hugging him closer, before falling asleep yourself.

~~~

(Please don’t copy or share any of my writing anywhere else!!)

[yumeboshi]

Happy 100!! I’d love to see the nostalgic starfruit sundae :0

❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、 @cakeboxie .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡．．

𐙚NOSTALGIC STARFRUIT SUNDAE：almost makes you feel younger。

𐙚 dish desc。．when you two were younger, he crushed on you even back then。

．。𝜗𝜚 labels。pure starry sweet fluff finally, a little non canon in aven, teen setting/late teens in aven’s, bittersweet

．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。sunday and aven

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY

。before becoming what he is right now, he was a sweet and probably shy boy who, during your first meeting, could not utter a single word and unintentionally let Robin do all the talk 。he will feel so foreign, poor him; he has never felt such an influx of emotions. he’d stammer over his words, forgetting everything about what his family taught him about ‘etiquette’ and will always end up looking stupid because he really can’t do anything around you. 。“sunday, are you listening?” “….ah, yes. sorry, I was distracted. um, please continue.” 。i definitely see him stalking you, just like in a cute way. when you’re out doing your own business or hanging out in golden hour, he’d just stare at you from afar- probably from his estate’s window like some deprived owl, completely entranced by you- the way you smile, the way you laugh at someone’s jokes- the way your hair ripples with the wind like soothing waves— was he daydreaming again? 。it gets so bad. he’s obsessed, daydreaming, even robin knows her brother’s head is in the clouds. the dreammaster hereby then prohibited him from seeing you, because you were getting in his plans to educate him since all he’d ever talk about was you. you were his new priority- he doesn’t even care about the order anymore; making the dreammaster grumble about when he’d raised such a lovesick boy. 。but gopher wood did not foresee that the young boy would do anything daring at all, like rebuking his orders.

STARLIGHT is near and you’re already hiding under the Oak Family’s residential area where you’re probably not supposed to be inside one of the back garden’s bushes, patiently waiting for your romeo to come.

How could you refuse? He was the loveliest, the sweetest and the most handsome boy you ever met, albeit not meeting a lot of kids your age. His wings too, were so fluffy and so cozy to lean into. Your little heart could comprehend these foreign feelings as a crush.

And there he was- your young prince, quickly stepping out of the window that’s barely open, tipping to the floor like a dove that’s free from its cage. Every step he takes is already elegant and authoritative, it reminds you that you are not his class, and you should not be here.

When your face peeks out of the bushes, his expression immediately lights up as if someone had brought all the stars from the sky to his face, he immediately runs to you and laughs breathlessly. “You’re here.”

”Shhh!” You frown and put your small hand to his mouth. He looks around at that- his wings tickling your nose, and he shrugs- “—I don’t see anyone nearby.”

“But the scary old man might be—“ you break off, and your heart skips a beat when you hear footsteps. Without thinking, you quickly hug sunday and pull him into the bush out of terror.

A second has passed. Two; or three, maybe. You lose track of time because of his loud heartbeat thudding against your own. You were not sure if it was out of fright or out of this complex feeling neither one of you were knowledged in.

You snap out of it quickly, because it made your head spin as if a swarm of butterflies were invading it. The dreammaster was gone, but neither one of you were moving an inch.

It feels time has stopped. Maybe you are wishing it did, because you know all too well that this would become a fleeting memory.

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE

。one day, after facing a similar massacre in your own planet, you are thrown into captive under a shady man. 。you are not alone, but you are more annoyed by the fact that your cellmate is an avgin. you are pretty sure your parents had told you countless stories about their wicked ways. 。kakavasha, on the other hand, is enamored by you. the way you snap back at your captor, the way you are defiant- even in such stakes. it enchanted him. it even inspired him. 。when he’s still a little kid, he’d follow you around like a little puppy despite your annoyance. 。but when you grow a little older- maybe around your teens, he hits his growth spurt, and he grows almost unrecognizable- yes, those tantalizingly beautiful eyes of his stay the same; but he just becomes so.. manly. masculine, almost mature- it’s hard to believe the quiet and puppy-like boy grew up to be such a fair.. man. 。but one thing that did not change a bit with him was the way his usually bored and dead stare would light up when he sees you. he teases you a lot, he likes to practice his tricks on you, simply because it’s endearing how you snarl in frustration at his antics. 。you are his personal pair of sky blue shades. you changed the way he saw the world forever- looking at you, he could think that the world might not be that cruel, if it doesn’t take you away.

ALTHOUGH his long awaited freedom has arrived- to the hands of an unknown woman who calls herself jade, he felt as if his world was crumbling again, all too familiar to what he felt when he was younger.

What about you? You have no clue about his release. He’d sworn to you he’d stay with you forever whether you liked it or not- he still remembers how you snorted and dismissed it with a light blush across your cheeks, scoffing that all the avgins were liars anyway- he’d laughed and told you he wouldn’t ever lie to you, ever, which earned him a glare and an embarrassed slap.

He tried to deny it. He wanted to say no. He couldn’t leave you here, no. you were his wild card, the one chip he would never, ever gamble on; because he cherished you over himself. you are the one thing he’d never risk— his only love, you have his whole world, you’re like a diamond key to his closed and broken heart.

But life was truly cruel, because he knew right now that it was his last chance to break free from the burdens of his past. His heartache will perhaps be soothed a little, after leaving those memories behind. But it means he will have to leave you behind as well.

Although his heart screamed no, that he was your one and only and he had to stay with you, his rationality whispered a different tale- echoing the woman’s promises of freedom.

And here he was, selfishly walking to the cell that held all of himself. You were there, barely awake, looking up at the sky that is too beautiful for the words he is about to say to you.

He takes in your ethereal figure underneath the twilight, your eyes are the cosmos itself, reflecting the moon inside them. He always took pride in his eyes, but nothing could be more beautiful than yours. he’d fallen in love with them the first time you two met. they are almost deceptively exquisite enough to make someone like him lose his rationale.

He is about to say something but your finger presses against his lips- you don’t turn to look at him; your eyes are fixed somewhere afar. “I know,” you say quietly.

So you knew? He hid his surprise. He had thought he did a good job acting it up. He shakes his head with a laugh- of course. This was you. You knew his every expression, the faintest of creases on his face, you could see right through him.

“Then I suppose I don’t have to entertain you with any cheesy goodbyes. Do you wish to say any more words?” He asks with his playful smile, albeit he knows you know he’s trying his best not to break down.

You hesitate, and then hold his hand gently. “Take care, kakavasha.”

At that, he could not take it anymore. He leans forward to kiss you, for the last time, and he tastes like memories. He tastes like your annoyance, your laughs, your cries, you feel like you are experiencing your childhood all over again like a broken record. Something bitter graces your mouth and you realize it is his tears.

“Always trying to act tough, just don’t do that in the outside world.” You laugh into the kiss, and you feel him smile against your lips. He tilts his head away, glancing somewhere else to mask how vulnerable he is- but you stop him, you look into his eyes that are far too distinct- they are seas of magenta, wavering each time he blinks to conceal any tears.

As his lips part from yours, he feels himself slowly dissipate. Kakavasha was no more.

[pretty-blkgirl]

It’s probably a stupid idea but imagine your at a Stray Kids concert, and your front row with your friends. Chan comes close to the edge on stage near you and winks to you. You think nothing of it because like he does that to everyone. But at the end of the concert he slips you a piece of paper with 1 single sentence. “After the concert, go to Hotel Grande and go to room B6.” You decide to go bc why not and you expect maybe Chan there or something but all of them are there, and they all are really horny. They always talk about wanting to date someone who knows nothing about stray kids but what if Stays are the ones who turn them on. Fem reader

Say Yes [Part One]

//fem!reader x 0t8!Skz//

Synopsis: You get slipped a note from your favorite idol to meet him at his hotel room, but he’s not the only one there

Genre: smut/suggestive, crack, fluff

Warnings: sexual situations, reader uses she/her pronouns

A/N: thank you @seoyeonleexoxo for the requestttt 🫶🏾

~~~~|~~~~

It was your first Stray Kids concert. Two straight years of saving up every spare dollar you had and camping out on Twitter for ticket sales finally paid off. Not only did you secure your tickets, but you and your friends got the front row- something you dreamed about since you started becoming a fan of Stray Kids.

You were beyond excited to see every member, but your bias -Bang Chan- was the one you were dreaming about. You know how he likes to flirt with stays, and you being in the front row meant you had a good chance at being noticed.

Hyunjin asked for stays to wear blue to the show, so you chose a solid baby blue romper that showed off every curve that you had. Your hair was out in wild, big curls and you chose simple silver jewelry.

The concert started with “Hall of Fame,” and you wasted no time in screaming your head off when the boys came into view.

The entire thing felt like a dream, and you got light-headed whenever a member got close to you. Sometime during Cheese, Chan came to your section to wave at Stays. You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt as you waved aggressively at him. He saw you and wasn’t shy about the quick once-over he gave you, then he winked before moving on to interact with other fans.

Your knees felt wobbly, and you could feel the way your friends stared at you after that interaction.

“Did he just wink at you?” Mia, the friend you’ve known since childhood asked.

“I think so,” you say, “Or maybe it was someone behind me?”

You turn around to see a good chunk of people looking right back at you. Some are envious and some curious, but all confirm the fact that Bang Chan just winked at you.

“He wants you girl” Tianna, your best friend since middle school, teases. You can’t help but roll your eyes once the boys go backstage to change. The lights in the stadium come on as you look to the screens to see the Stay games starting.

The first game has stays copy the boys' poses, you and your friends laugh as flustered fans appear on screen. Soon enough, the next game starts, a game where stays must do the choreography to random Skz songs.

This is the part of the concert you weren’t looking forward to, so you duck your head and try to stay clear of any cameramen. Some people scream and wave their arms to be put on screen, and you can only hope they get picked as the laughing staff goes to pick out people.

After three people dance to Gods Menu, Maniac, and Thunderous, you start to relax and enjoy the game. The last song, S-Class, comes up and you and your friends dance along to the practice video shown. After they show the video, you find yourself on screen smiling before pure terror graces your face.

You can’t even hear what the members are saying to you before your friends urge you to dance.

Did you do the choreography correctly? No. Were your friends dying laughing the entire time? Yes.

“Good job” You hear Han’s unmistakable voice say, “You’re so cool”

“And pretty” Felix’s deep voice continues before your face is replaced with the regular Skz logo

“Oooooh” Tianna teases, “You’re cool AND pretty? I’m jealous”

“You got three members fighting over you” Mia exclaims

“Hush” You stress, feeling glares on you, “It’s just fan service”

Tianna rolls her eyes, “Usually fan service involves all the fans”

The lights in the place dim, signaling the group is about to come back on stage. The glares you feel cease as the people around you start to scream their heads off

“Not all the time” you manage to say before the show continues.

In all honesty, you had a great time at the concert. The boys came over to your section a lot, especially Chan.

You didn’t want to believe he was making eye contact with you, and only you. However, it was hard to ignore the obvious looks he kept throwing your way. After a while, you began to count the amount of times his eyes found you in the audience; 25 times.

In a room full of thousands of people, how did he manage to look at you so many times? All your most delusional fantasies came to mind, thoughts that reminded you of when you first started to become a fan.

Cute thoughts of walking down the aisle with a member, some cute dates, and even a passing thought of a family. Just niche little things that crossed your mind as you fell more and more in love with the group.

Then there were the not-too-wholesome thoughts, the ones where you’re usually crying and begging to reach your release after hours upon hours of edging. These thoughts kept you up at night and usually involved more than one member.

You suddenly felt so dirty. Thinking about your idols in such a way while they throw kisses at the fans on the stage in front of you. You barely notice the lights come on and people start to leave the venue.

“That was so good” Tianna gushed, looking at you with a playful expression on her face. You knew the walk back to your hotel would be filled with your friends only reaffirming your delusions.

“I’m jealous y/n. I’d love to have Bang Chan eye-fucking me all night long” Mia said, making your face heat up.

You three walked out of the building and joined a crowd of fans waiting for the boys’ cars to leave the stadium.

“What if Chan comes out of the car and confesses his love for you?” Tianna teases

Mia giggles hysterically as the two continue with their joking, not paying attention as you’re flagged down by what looks to be a security guard.

“Is he asking me to come over there?” You ask your friends, making them stop and look at the staff.

“Looks like it” Tianna shrugs, “I think he was the security guard over by our section. Maybe you dropped something?”

You nod and jog over to the guard, looking back at your friends just to make sure they’re keeping an eye on you.

“Hello,” You say politely, “Can I help you?”

“You dropped this,” The guard says, handing you a mini quokka plushie that you’re only now noticing isn’t in your jacket pocket.

“Thank you so much!” You say, taking the plushie and beginning to walk off, that is until he grabs your attention again.

“I was asked to give this to you as well,” He says, handing you a rather thick envelope, “Put it in your pocket”

Before you can question it, he bows and walks off to where the other staff stands.

With your brain on autopilot, you stuff the envelope in your pocket and go back to your friends.

Mia wastes no time in asking what happened, and you tell them he gave you back your stuffed animal.

For whatever reason, you fail to mention the envelope in your pocket, and you silently celebrate when Tianna suddenly exclaims her stomach hurts and she wants to go back to the hotel.

The walk back is short, and you’re grateful that you all invested in your rooms.

The first thing you do is take out the envelope and open it. You see two folded pieces of paper.

One of them is a picture, one of the group that you’ve never seen before. It’s signed, and you instinctively look on the back and is surprised to see a message

“Go to the Hotel Grande, second floor, room B6, knock 4 times."

Already taken aback, you look at the other piece of paper to find an NDA.

“Oh my God” you whisper, quickly pulling out your phone to search the directions of the hotel. Only a 10-minute drive.

“This could be a trick,” You think out loud, “What if I get hurt?”

The rational side of you is urging you to think about the consequences of showing up to a random hotel, but the wild and unpredictable side of you quickly orders yourself an Uber and touches up your makeup.

[swxxtsxcchxrine]

Hi idk if you're taking asks but if you are can you please write Miguel with a pregnant wife?

Thank you in advance!!

i'm so sorry i'm replying to your asks so late, ive been soooo busy bro like im so fucked cuz i might be in legal trouble but like life happens innit.

anywaysssss, this ask is soooo cute omdss

after the birth of your daughter, Miguel has been obsessed with the idea of you being pregnant. him finding out that you were pregnant with another child had him jumping for joy. the man wouldn't let you lift a finger even if it was to change the TV channel. "princesa, make sure you take care of mommy for me, ok?" he says, giving his daughter a fat kiss across the cheek. your due date was soon approaching and the house was bare of groceries. "daddy, where do babies come from?" the 5 year old ask curiously. "ok, that's enough, daddy needs to go shopping," you said, picking up your child and telling Miguel to pick his jaw up off the floor. "come on bubba, lets go bake an apple pie," you waddled to the kitchen.

2 hours of chasing your daughter around with flour flew by, and before you knew it, your husband was home with several bags full of shopping. hearing the persistent screams of terror and her squeals of joy had Miguel standing on edge. he opened the door to the kitchen to find a horror scene. flour, milk eggs and butter was splayed all across the kitchen. the pie dough had just been made and was sitting haphazardly in the pie pot in the middle of the island. both you and your daughter froze, both exchanging looks of concern.

"i left you too alone, for 2 hours. and i come home to this mess you created. how could you do this to me. how could you have this much fun without me?" Miguel feigned hurt. "i can't believe-" he was cut off by a big fat splat on his face and the tale tell sounds of a high pitched giggle. a mixture of eggs and flour was dripping down his stern face. "oh, you are so getting it now," he sneers as his daughter squeals and runs around the kitchen. the sounds of her small feet slapping against the tiled floors.

his daughter cowed against a wall. realising she had nowhere so go, her shrieks increased in pitch. "now i've got you were i want," Miguel chuckles lowly. "now i've got you where i want," you exclaim raising your hands to dump half a bag of flour on his big head. you can't help it as you let out a loud laugh. Miguel sighed in defeat, smiling as he watched his two girls in pure joy. your bulbous belly had you waddling up the stairs with your daughter to go and wash her up before bed as it was getting late and there were eggs in her hair. Miguel had agreed to clean the kitchen and after some argument - since you were the one to mess it up - Miguel briefly shut you up and told you wash up and get ready for bed because tomorrow you guys had to go shopping for the baby and see if Miles was available to babysit your daughter when you went in labour.

your daughter was sound asleep and you'd just finish your skincare routine by the time Miguel came out of the shower. his towel hung low, just below his v-line. his abs glistening in your low bedroom light. his hair dripped down his neck. "you ready for bed, baby?" he asked, coming up behind you to put your butt-length braids into your bright pink bonnet matching with your pjs. he walked over to your shared bed, as you followed soon after. "she most definitely takes after you," you chuckle, facing your husband. "don't even. you and i know damn well she takes after you," he snaps. "well either way, she's honestly the best thing to have happened to us. and now we have another thing coming," you sigh rubbing your belly. "i wonder who he'll take over," Miguel says.

[jemiswumbo]

she’s out of her mind

luke castellan x daughter of hades!reader

anon prompt: Hey babes! I saw your post about wanting prompts and I was wondering you could write Luke Castellan x Daughter of Hades! Reader where it's like sunshine (Luke) x grumpy (Reader) trope?

authors note: hello i am back with a small drabble for the cute prompt above! i got drunk off of applebees dollaritas and wrote this in 15mins so do with that information what you will. hope you enjoy! :)

title is from she’s out of her mind by blink-182. lyrics are a lil fitting.

warnings: none? i think? it’s just fluff, i think. sort of.

“Wake up, sunshine.”

You groaned low and deep, releasing a guttural sound full of pure agony. Rolling over on your (extremely warm, cozy, sleep inducing) bed, you came face to face with your boyfriend, Luke Castellan, who was currently opening up the curtains in your cabin.

Being the only child of Hades at the camp, the entire cabin was sparse and empty, save for the corner you called home. There was a bed with black sheets and blanket, a side table full of the few memorabilia you had to your name, and a dresser beside that which held your extensive collection of black clothing. The walls resembled the inner workings of a cavern; slick rock prodded with small bones and beautiful jewels encapsulated the bedroom areas. Sconces held lit torches burning bright with turquoise Greek fire.

Your favourite part of the cabin, though, was the specially-crafted blackout curtains that were typically drawn tight over the windows. Not even a sliver of light could penetrate the thick, black, velvet drapes. That was, until, your idiot boyfriend took it upon himself to draw them open. The harsh blades of sunlight violated your eyes, illiciting your pained groan. You hated it when people interrupted your sleep.

“Luke,” You whined, shoving your face into your pillow, hoping to evade the blinding light. “Let me sleep, please, for the love of the gods.”

“Fuck the gods,” Luke said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice without needing to see his (cute, devilishly handsome) face. “Anyways, it’s 9am! You’ve slept in long enough and I wanna have breakfast with you and your pretty face.” Luke flopped down on the bed beside you and flipped your body back over with ease, in a foolish attempt to force you into the world of the living.

Typical for a child of Death, you kept your eyes squeezed shut and pounded the bedsheet with your fist. “I will literally, genuinely, actually murder you without hesitation if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”

“That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend.” Luke said, pressed a small kiss to your nose. You swatted him away with anger.

Any other (normal, rational, smart) kid at camp would’ve soiled their pants and fled in terror from such a threat uttered by the one and only daughter of Hades. You were capable of a simple killing — you were graciously bestowed the gift of sucking out the souls of mortals with a mere flick of the wrist — and so it was only logical to fear such a ghastly claim. Luke, however, had realized early on in your Camp days that you were full of shit and would never hurt a fly. He took an opportunity to befriend you and you’d been dating for a few years now. You were (truly, madly, deeply) in love with him and yes, despite your immense hatred for morning sunlight, you would never actually hurt him.

“Come on,” he prodded again, cuddling up beside you and tapping your forehead mischievously. You mustered the courage to crack open one eye (barely) and saw him grinning down at you. “Wake up, baby. Let’s get breakfast and then spend the day at the docks. We can swim and sun bathe and have a picnic—“

“Gods, you’re ambitious today,” you grumbled, rolling back over to face the opposite direction of Luke (and, the open windows), allowing him to grab your waist and pull you up against his chest. “I hate being in the sun. You know this.”

“Yeah, but I like to try new things with you,” Luke said, peppering a few kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck, squeezing his taut arm around your torso. “And I’m dying to see you in a bikini.”

“Perv,” you mumbled, but deep down you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, causing a crimson blush to bloom over your chest. “Give me another hour to sleep.”

“No,” Luke said, and now it was his turn to groan impatiently. “Please, now, for me? I love you and want to spend time with you.”

“I hate you and want you to leave me alone,” you replied, pulling your fluffy duvet back up over your shoulders. “Bed time.”

“Beach time,” Luke decided. He sat up slightly and ripped the blankets entirely off your form, exposing your body to the cold air of the morning.

You shrieked. “Luke, you asshole—“

Luke jumped out of the bed, smiling wide. He gathered up all the blankets up into his arms, much to your dismay, and held them away from you. You only wore shorts and a tank top to sleep last night, and the chill in the room froze you right to your bones. Luke bundled up the bedding into a ball and fired it across the room. “There, now you’re acclimated.”

“You’re dumb as hell.”

“You are a grouchy, sleepy demon who needs breakfast and vitamin D.”

“Ugh!” You exploded, finally shoving yourself out of bed in a fit of exasperation. Luke had the audacity to applaud you. “Okay, there, I’m up!”

“So proud of you, my sleeping beauty,” Luke remarked. He crossed the room to you and placed a tender kiss to your lips, making sure to nip at your pouty bottom lip.

“Sorry for being rude,” You murmured, after having kissed him back. “I love you. I just don’t love being woken up.”

“I know,” Luke said with a grin. “I actually think you’re cute when your grumpy, so I do it on purpose to bug you.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the small smirk from appearing on your cheeks. “Whatever. You promised breakfast and I’m starving, so let’s go.”

Luke mimicked your playful eyeroll. He took your hand, leading you out the door and towards the dining pavilion.

note 2: hi hi! if you read this and enjoyed it and maybe want to read more from me, i would super appreciate prompts and requests sent to my inbox! can’t guarantee i’ll write them all but i will for sure try my best! thanks for reading! :)

[sanemislittledemon]

Teaching you a lesson

what happens when Sanemi overhears a group of demon slayers talking bad about you and after he goes to find you. He has to teach you to love yourself.

Sanemi X plus size reader

MDNI

Warnings : NSFW, body image issues, bullying, body shaming, extreme dirty talk, Sanemis foul mouth, mild breeding kink

Sanemi was coming but from a long day from training, the sun was setting in the distance making the light glow from this sweat soaked skin, accentuating his scar ridden body. His ears perked up with he heard his girlfriends name from the group of younger demon slayers when he was turning a corner, Sanemi quickly moved back as to not be noticed ’ who the fuck was talking about my girl? ‘ he asked clearly irritated

“ did you see that girl that hangs around lord Sanemi? “ one of them said “ yeah! Why would a hashira hang around a girl like that when he could have anyone he wanted “ another scoffs “ she’s so fucking big! Like a cow, I bet he’s just with her because he pities her “ one says causing the group to laugh and make vulgar hand gestures. Sanemi feels the veins in his forehead pop and his body ran cold then fiery hot. Before he knew what he was doing he was already behind the three younger slayers “ the hell did you just say? “ he asked his voice like cold death making the three jump “ l-lord Sanemi when did you get back from your training ? “ the first asked

Sanemi grabbed him up by his uniform shirt “ come again you little brat “ he spat angrily before continuing “ if I heard what I think I did you brats are dead meat “ all of the slayers wore a face of pure terror “ lord Sanemi I-I don’t know what you thought you heard but I-I “ the second one started but was cut of before he could finish by the pissed off hashira “ DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME YOU PISSANT “ he yelled at the other slayers before shooting all three a look that made their blood run cold “ I’ll kill you three right here “ he says voice low “ Shinazugawa? “ a voice came from behind the group making Sanemi shoot his head around ready to fight but his eyes fell on two fellow hashira the other that said his name, a hashira a short man with choppy black hair and a snake around his neck. one of his eyes blue and the other yellow, bandage wrapped around his mouth and wearing a black and white striped hoari. The other hashira a women with pink hair tipped with green, a uniform top similar to his own and green striped socks “ the hell are you two doing here? “ Sanemi asks “ we could be asking you the same thing Shinazugawa, what are you doing to these three? “ Obanai the serpent hashira asks making Sanemi turn his hand back to the three one hand still fisted in one of their uniforms “ teaching these idiots a lesson “ he growls before snapping his hand back to the hashira “ they dared to badmouth my woman “ he finished

“ you mean Y/N ? “ Mitsuri the love hashira asks

Obanai sighs “ Shinazugawa, I know you’re angry but we can’t afford to lose anymore demon slayers “ he walks to Sanemis side followed by Mitsuri “ what did they say about Y/N? She’s so cute! Who would badmouth her! “ she squeals in her normal obsessive manner while blushing ear to ear. Sanemi feels his grip tighten “ I don’t want to repeat it but I think you can guess “ he replies darkly making the serpent hashira nod in understanding but the love hashira is still confused “ I don’t get it “ she whispers to Obanai making the man sigh “ we’ll talk later “

“ p-please lord Sanemi, we didn’t mean anything by it “ the third person says clearly scared,

The man in question snaps his head back, his dark eyes got impossibly darker “ these two just saved your sorry life’s, but if I hear anything again “ he cut himself off before dropping the slayer on the ground, taking his wooden sword and breaking it while swinging at the three demon slayers, knocking them out. “ Shinazuawa you didn’t have to do that “ Obanai says to the man, who throws the broken hilt down before replying “ next time I’ll destroy them “

Mitsuri was still concerned “ Shinazuawa, what ever those people said please don’t let it make you love Y/N any less “ she said with a burning passion in her eyes, typical for the love hashira. Sanemi looks down at the three with a sadness flashing in his eyes “ that would never happen “ he replies with a low voice before running in the direction of the wind estate. Sanemi ran faster than he probably should have catching the attention of passing demon slayers with the look of confusion on their faces but he didn’t care the only thing he cared about in that moment was getting to his princess. The only person that brought him joy besides his little brother genya of course.

He should have seen it, the way the other lower ranking demon slayers were treating her. Sanemi finally put the pieces together in his head about why she never wanted to do things out in public with him or the other hashira. He storms into the wind estate with a fiery rage but it’s not directed at his sweet and beautiful girlfriend but at those damned no names and himself for letting her suffer in silence like this. She was been hurt by these other demon slayers and he was too stuck up his own ass to see it. Sanemi runs through the wind estate looking desperately for her until he found their bedroom, he pulls the door open to discover Y/N standing in front of their full length mirror, staring at her mostly naked form with tear stained cheeks. She notices him quickly “ Sanemi what are you doing home?! “ she yelled at the man as she’s trying to cover her body with her discarded uniform. Sanemis eyes bloodshot with anger as his eyes rake over her rounded figure barely covered by the uniform she’s holding to her skin, the scene before him rips a growl from his chest.

The man slams the door shut before storming over to her, his towering figure making Y/N’s breath stop for a moment. She jumps when Sanemi puts his hands on her hips, gripping them tightly while he pulls her to their bed “ sit “ he commands letting go of her and walking back to the mirror picking it up to move it in front of them. Sanemi glances back to her “ if you take your eyes off this mirror you will be punished, understood? “ he asks in a calming manner that made a shiver go down her spine but Y/N nods in response.

Sanemi then drops to his knees, pushing her to lean back on the bed, he starts to kiss slowly up her thighs “ beautiful “ he mumbles into her skin. The man leaves marks as he moves closer to her heat, slowly kissing and licking. Y/N is forced to watch herself in the mirror as the man paints her skin in purple marks and whispers praise into her rounded thighs before making his way to her stomach “ fuck baby so soft “ he groans

“ I’m going to mark every part of your perfect fucking body “

Sanemi bites into your skin making his way up to her breasts leaving marks around them but making sure never to touch her sensitive buds. Kisses his way to her neck leaving a mark there that has Y/N shaking “ S-Sanemi please” she moans out weakly. The man finally pulls back looking down at the art he’s made of her body, marks littering her skin “ fuck baby “ he moans slowly moving his eyes across her fucked out body. Sanemi then backs away completely and she watched through the mirror has he moves in behind her moving her body so she’s laying against his chest forcing her legs to spread with his own exposing her core to them both. Her eyes move over her body taking in all of the marks the man left on her skin from her plush thighs to full hips and stomach to her breasts. “ embarrassing “ she whispers earning a swift smack on the thigh “ I will not allow you to insult something that is mine “ he replies then moves his hand down her body. His eyes dropping between her legs

Her core glistening “ your slutty fucking body is too honest “ he laughs as he drags his finger tips up her core. Sanemis eyes lock with hers through the mirror while he continues rubbing up and down her core without ever touching her clit “ P-Please Sanemi “ she begs while bucking her hips into his hand making him stop. The man brings his fingers to her lips and roughly pushes them inside “ you are going to take what the fuck I give you, understood “ he growls and uses his other arm to smack her plush thigh. Sanemi pulls he’s fingers free bringing them down to her breast circling one of her hard buds ripping a moan from her throat that makes his cock throb against her back. Sanemi grinds into her “ you fucking feel how hard you make me? “ he moans into her neck

Sanemi keeps grinding his hips into her as he removes his hand from her breast, bringing it back down to her core. She’s panting against him, shivers rack her body as he rubs her gently before letting his fingers find her entrance circling it teasing making a whimper come out of her lips and her legs to shake. He grabs her face with his other hand making her look down at his fingers through the mirror as he puts two fingers inside making her moan loudly.

“ fuck yourself on my fingers like a good girl “

Y/N let’s out a sigh as she works her hips against Sanemis hand, feeling his long rough fingers go deep inside her core. “ fuck baby I’ve barely touched you and you’re this wet? “ Sanemi moans locking his eyes with hers. His eyes dark and possessive “ I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock “ he says taking the lead and fucking his fingers into her faster making embarrassing noises fill the room. Hand rubbing her clit as he fucked his fingers into her curling them at just the right moment hitting her weak spot, making her throw her hand back against his shoulder “ what did I tell you “ he growled before forcing her head back into place. Eyes opened looking at how the flush from her face stretched down to her chest, eyes focused on how her chest heaves and her stomach clenches from the pleasure Sanemis fingers were giving her. Suddenly the man spreads them inside of her opening her up slightly, stretching her for something bigger, the thought has her drooling “ look at this pretty fucking cunt “ he growls in her ear his hot breath ghosting over her neck making her shiver in his arms.

“ going to cum for me? “ Sanemi asks as he fucks his fingers in her deeply making the woman whine unable to answer. Sanemi smirks and curls his fingers hitting her sweet spot “ then watch yourself release all over my hand “ he commanded and with that her stomach tightened as pleasure overtook her, they both watched as liquid spilled over his hand and the mirror leaving her panting in his arms. Y/N slowly moved her eyes up to meet his only to see the shock and arousal reflected there. “ fuck baby I didn’t know you had that in you “ he marveled as he pulled his fingers free moving them up to his mouth, she watched as he took them in and sucked all of her essence off of them.

Sanemis eyes shot back to hers clearly aware of what this was doing to his girl, he smirked “ don’t worry baby I’m not done yet “ he moved his legs so she could move, Sanemi guided her to the floor on his knees, the man made a show of slowly removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. He pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring free, it’s big with a thick vein running up the underside of it her mouth waters as pre-cum beads at the tip.

Smirking Sanemi says “ go on you know you want it “ before he guides it to her waiting mouth, circling it before pushing the tip in. Y/Ns closed her mouth around it and sucks ripping a moan from the man above her, Sanemi tastes salty from training but that just makes her core throb with need. Y/N tries to take him deeper into her throat what she can’t fit she uses her hand, jacking him off in time with her mouth, paying extra attention to the vein on the underside of his cock making the man groan loudly and rub his hand through her hair just the way she likes it.

“ fuck that’s enough baby “ he says pulling her off his cock and into his lap, kissing her deeply and rubbing his tip against her slit. He nips her bottom lip gently before grabbing her hips tightly and filling her up completely with his cock making her scream before both pleasure and slight pain from his size. Sanemi wastes go time in fucking deeply into her so deep she swears she can feel his tip kiss her cervix.

“ so fucking tight “ he moans into her mouth as he grips her hips harder and forcing her down on his cock while fucking his hips up into her making her whole body shake. Sanemi releases her mouth opting to lick at her breasts sucking more marks into them before taking a bud in his mouth licking and sucking on it hard while he sets a punishing pace with his thrusts. She feels her stomach tighten with pleasure as he abuses her sweet spot “ that’s it baby take my fucking cock “ he groans licking her hard bud making her scream

“ louder! Make all of them hear how good I make this pussy feel “ he moans into her skin

At his words she feels pleasure shoot up her spine as she cums around his cock at this Sanemi fucks into her harder before cumming inside feeling her with his warmth. But before she was able to catch her breath Sanemi flips her over onto her knees, pushing into her again making her scream with the overwhelming pleasure. The man sets a punishing pace making sure she takes every inch of him as he reaches forward to grab her hair in his fist pulling her face off the bed so he can hear her beautiful moans.

Sanemi leans forward to bite at her neck “ have you learnt your lesson? “ he asks with a growl in his throat

“ w-what lesson? “ she asked breathlessly

Sanemi bites her neck harder making her whimper “ listening to options from assholes that don’t matter “ he says between thrusts “ i better not ever see you thinking negative about something that’s mine again, understood? “ he asks as he smacks her rounded asscheek

That sends her over the edge cumming for the third time as he quickly follows filling her to the brim with his warmth. The couple stays like this while they catch their breath, panting and covered in sweat. Sanemi was the first to move, slowing pulling out of her letting the woman fall onto her stomach beneath him. Sanemi sits up running a hand through his sweaty hair “ fuck I went overboard “ he says

He moves her over to her back taking in her fucked out face and the flush that runs down her neck “ are you okay baby? “ he asks Y/N doesn’t trust her voice so she just nods he smiles down at his beautiful girl as he rubs his hand across her cheek “ how did I ever get go lucky? “ he asks making the woman blush

“ come on let’s cuddle before bathing “ he says before moving off the bed putting the mirror back in place and picking up Y/N and putting her back on the pillows, she normally would protest but her body wouldn’t let her put up a fight with the hashira. He moves in beside her cuddling her to his chest “ we may have a brat in a few months “ he comments making her blink up at him before the realization hit but to tired to yell at him so she decided to ignore him making a mental note to stop by the butterfly estate in a few weeks before letting sleep take her, Sanemi smiles “ I wont let anyone hurt either of you “ he promises

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hi!!!!! Your writings are amazing! I wanted to ask if you would be willing to write a story based off of this last raw.

When Damian saved Rhea from Doms jump trick I thought it was super sweet and got an idea.

Could you possibly write something where Y/N is jumped back stage by Jd Mcdumbass but The terror twins catch them in the process and while Damian chases him off Rhea comforts you and helps tend to the slight injuries, then Damian comes back to also comfort.

(Platonic)

damian priest x reader x rhea ripley (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

don’t touch what’s mine

you were the last og member of the judgment day and after the disaster that happened at summerslam, you stood with rhea and damian. they were your family and you didn’t want to leave them behind.

now it was you, rhea and damian against the rest of the team, and liv. words couldn’t explain how much you despised liv morgan, she wanted to be that girl but in your eyes she was just a failure.

so, when rhea told you to stay backstage because she didn’t want you to risk getting injured, you were reluctant but you did as she said.

you were nervously watching rhea destroying on the mic both live and dom, smiling at her confidence and wishing you could be like her. you’ve always admired her, her strength and her big personality, she taught you to be the person you are today and all you’ve accomplished in the past was much thanks to her.

the whole liv and dom segment was pure chaos, both trying to say the most stupid things just to upset rhea.

you laughed when damian appeared behind them. he was pissed as much as rhea was and he had every right to start his attack on dom.

but in less than a few minutes it erupted into complete anarchy. damian starting him match against carlito early and of course - winning. but the judgment day, or at least “the budget day”, how you liked to call them, couldn’t stand to see carlito lose so they began their attack on damian.

rhea came to the rescue, scaring everyone away. but your heart skipped a beat when you saw how easily finn sacrificed jd to save his own face.

“it’s not gonna work out for you finn” you whispered, softly smiling at the screen in front of you.

and while rhea and damian were happily celebrating inside the ring, you left the changing room to wait for them backstage.

your eyes met finn who was visibly upset, and maybe a little embarrassed for how his team just lost. you couldn’t help to smile and think how stupid he was to choose the wrong part of the team but your happiness didn’t last long enough because you fell on the floor when you heard liv attacking you from behind.

“should have stayed in the changing room where mom and dad want to hide you” she smirked before leaving with dom.

she didn’t hurt you that much but when a hand grabbed your hair from behind, yanking your neck even more on the ground, in that moment, you felt pain.

“you choose the wrong people to have on your side” jd smirked while he was still grabbing your hair “you should have listened to finn back at summerslam” he kept saying but you couldn’t really understand what he was saying as you were focus on your pain, his hand lifting you off the ground by your hair, your scalp was probably turning red from the strength he put into it “we could have been your new team y/n but you chose the wrong people” he laughed.

“i still have no idea why you are a part of this group, all you do is suck” he replied back, no fear of what he could have done with you as you were feeling pain from your scalp to your neck and into your shoulders.

you couldn’t see his eyes as he was manhandling you from behind but you could feel his body going rigid, getting even angrier.

“you’re all talk y/n” he said moving his hand from your head to your neck, making you yelp from the pain but you weren’t going to give up “if they care so much about you, why aren’t they here uh? if they love you so much, why are you here all alone? where are they?” he laughed into your ear, forcing his hand on your neck.

“right here dumbass” you heard damian’s voice and jd’s held on your neck got limp, as if he was scared of what damian might have done to him.

before he could get away with it, rhea attacked him from behind, making him fall on the ground “don’t fucking touch what’s mine ever again" she spat out, making him shiver.

damian grabbed him from the neck, just like how he had grabbed you earlier while rhea went to check up on you.

“let’s go mcdumb” damian called him making you chuckle. rhea took you to the changing room while damian continued his attack on jd “mom didn’t teach you that you shouldn’t hit a girl?” now jd was scared because he knew damian was bigger and stronger than him “but you touched my girl…someone who was a friend of yours before you turned your back on her too and i won’t allow you to hurt her again, clear?” he screamed in his face, making him shiver.

dom, liv, finn and carlito where nowhere to be seen so jd was all alone with priest until someone heart the screams from the corridor.

“was i clear?” damian screamed again, holding him up from his neck and making him fighting for his life.

“priest let him go” punk screamed watching the scene.

“i’m not letting him go before he apologises to y/n! he fucking hurt her! let me repeat this again dumbass, you touch her one more time and you and your little team are fucking dead, clear?” damian shouted, waiting for jd to nod his head before letting him go “coward” he whispered before reaching for the changing room where rhea took you.

punk took one last look at jd, sensing how scared he was “better not to mess up with the judgment day, and especially with y/n…just an advice from an old man” he smirked before leaving.

in the meantime you were checking yourself in the mirror while rhea grabbed some ice for you.

“it’s gonna turn purple” she whispered gently laying the ice on your skin.

“yeah…”

“y/n, what were you doing outside of the changing room?” she wasn’t mad, she couldn’t get mad at you, you were like a sister to her but she constantly worried for you and seeing you being attacked by jd made her blood boil.

“i wanted to welcomed you after damian’s win…i wasn’t expecting them to being so mean…” you whispered.

rhea’s heart melted when she heard that you risked it all just for them “angel…that’s so sweet of you but don’t put your health at risk again because of us okay?” she softly smiled at you.

“but…”

“no buts please…one thing is you going outside because you have a match, one thing is you risking your own safety because of them, and i don’t wanna risk it, please…”

you knew you couldn’t say no when she asked so nicely so you nodded.

damian joined you two back in the room and he brought something cold to drink for you “it should help…” he smiled “are you okay mariposa?”

“yeah…it’s just…it’s gonna hurt for a while…”

“your neck?” damian asked.

“my head, my neck, my shoulders…everything, i still have to get used to them being against us you know” you chuckled, wiping some tears from your face “but i’m glad you’re still here…it sucks getting affectionate to someone just to see them go” you didn’t want to cry, especially after seeing them winning on stage.

damian’s face soften at your words. he knew how important was the judgment day for you so he understood how much you’ve been suffering the past two weeks “we ain’t going nowhere mariposa and that’s a promise…”

“we will always be here y/n…we ain’t leaving you sweetheart” rhea smiled making you laugh “and it’s okay to feel betrayed, we feel it too, but please don’t keep everything inside okay? if you need to talk about it or to cry, we are here for you…”

you were glad rhea and damian were still by your side.

“okay…it just…i wished they weren’t so dumb to throw everything away but it will pass…thanks for being here” you wiped more tears away but your hand was gently replaced with damian’s one.

he was gently stroking your cheek “i promise you that we’ll never leave, but as rhea said, if something bothers you, let it out okay?”

“i will, i promise…but next monday i wanna kick jd’s ass with you guys, please…it will make me feel better”

“oh don’t use this method on me love” rhea joked, knowing she couldn’t say no when you said that something was making you feel good “but we will let you on stage with us, right damian?”

“absolutely, and i will help you kick his ass” he laughed.

“can we go back to the hotel room now? i feel like i need a hot shower and at least ten hours of sleep” you asked making them chuckle.

“let’s go princess…i’ll help ya to put some lotion of your neck and shoulders after you’re all clean…” rhea smiled.

“yes please…i feel like my whole body is on fire right now…” you said, your hand moving to massage your neck.

“we will take care of you i promise” damian smiled “and then i’ll take care of jd dumb fucking ass” he whispered only for rhea to hear.

you didn’t know what to expect but while you were in the shower, relaxing yourself, you heard some noises coming from the corridor.

you heard jd screaming apologies for you, making you laugh. knowing that rhea and damian were behind all of this, you relaxed a little more, knowing that no matter what happened, you would always have each other’s backs.

[ornii]

Hello, how are you doing?

I was wondering if you would write a story with Enid x Wednesday x M!reader where the reader is a vortex, like from the Sandman series/comic, and after his and Wednesday's first date he goes to sleep and has a smutty dream before accidentally travels into Wednesday dream. Wednesday's dream was the reader eating her out with her wearing a blindfold while Enid is in the corner rubbing herself.

Due to his confusion and hornyness, the reader accidently travels to Enid's dream. Enid was dreaming that she was being double penetrated by both Y/n and Wednesday with a strap on. Seeing this caused the reader to accidentally break the barrier between their dreams so they all saw what the other was dreaming. This caused them all to wake up and the reader to go over to their shared room to apologize. However, when he arrived and explained what happened, they reached an agreement to make the others dreams a reality. After a full night of sex, the reader and Wednesday are spooning Enid and agree to let her into the relationship.

Take your time and sorry if this is too much.

Night Terrors, Indeed. (18+)

A Vortex, dreaming being beyond comprehension and understanding. Admittedly you attempted to sleep after your first date with Wednesday, turns out explaining to her the demons that the vortex attracts. Haunting a dream together was a first good date, which lead to an.. interesting night.

Lying in your bed your mind begins to fade into mist. Everything slowly solidifying into a bedroom, an old castle on the coast of England, you sat up and felt an unease about your body, as if you were.. sick. “H..hello?” You spoke into the dimly lit room, a few candles, a fireplace illuminated the front of the bed, candles along certain walls and frames. You could make out a door opening to your left and a figure calmly stepping out of it, Wednesday. She didn’t have a Nevermore uniform on her, it was a thin black lace nightgown, Carrying a single candle she approached.

“Mi querido..” her deep black eyes peered into yours, and she gently placed the candle on the bed rest and leaned into your face.

“You’ve had a long and strenuous battle… allow me to relive you.”

“Wednesday I…” her finger slowly pressed against your lips as she gently crawled into the bed and straddled you. Her cold pale plan gently pressed against your chest, this dream felt so.. real, you wanted it to be real, and her left hand slowly began to train down your abdomen, her fingers softly drag along your skin and the sensation felt so pure. But before you could feel he grasp it, your eyes awoke to the Hellway of Wednesday and Enids dorm. You were standing up, and a look of surprise was on your face. “Am I… no.. dreams must be interlocking.” You thought to yourself and walked along the hall. Nearing the door, you heard a gentle moan behind the door. Curiosity and arousal fill your mind and you twists the door knob and peer into the bedroom, and your eyes went to the right side to Wednesdays side and to the origin of the sounds.

Her hands were bound by handcuffs, though a rail of her bedframe, her eyes bound by a wrapping and her bottom lip was bitten, as she was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down her neck to her back, bare chest with supple breasts softly shaking as her shaky moans echo though the room, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her, this was definitely Wednesday’s dream. You watched a pair of very familiar hands move upward and grip her waist, it was yours. You saw yourself right between her legs, using your tongue to lap against her walls and the warmth of your breath brush against her flesh. Her legs instinctively wrap around your neck, inching closer to an orgasm, the soft whimpers of Enid catch your ear and you lean in a bit further, your eyes caught Enid, her legs gently rubbing together as one hand was in between and the other gently massaging her own breast, her eyes so crazily focused on watching Wednesday and the dream version of you being so… intimate. You closed the door swiftly and tried to press those thoughts out of your mind, and turned left, and blinked somehow you were back at the same door, as if the world itself moved to be fixated on your eyes. You reached and gripped the handle again and opened the door, this time the positions changed, you watched yourself lie on Enid’s Bed, her on top, palms gripping your shoulders as she rides the dream version of you, Wednesday was also behind her, her arm grasping her neck as she was also behind Enid, using a strap on she also decided to plunder the Werewolf’s body. Enid was in bliss, a mix of pleasure and wolf like mating she was enjoying herself a lot more than most. And admittedly you wanted to put yourself in the mix, you gripped the handle harder, biting your lip you felt the arousal build up and take over, you closed the door once more, but hard, and with that slam you woke up from your invasion of dreams. Sweating and with a very abrupt form of morning wood. You took a deep breath to compose yourself. Sitting up you exhaled and felt a deep feeling, and you had to alleviate it.

Gently knocking on Wednesday’s door, you waited, it was a bit of shuffling and you watched it open to Wednesday in a gown, and Enid looked a bit, awkward. “Can I.. come in?” You asked, and Wednesday stepped back to let you in. You saw Enid in her bed, curled up slightly, not able to make eye contact with you. Wednesday stood in the room, a bit uncomfortable herself. You had a very good idea of why they looked like that.

“So… I’m sorry about, all of that.” You spoke up first, and Wednesday took a breath. “You upset Enid.” Wednesday frowned, she wasn’t angry about her dream being taken advantage of, she was upset that Enid was upset.

“Enid… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.” You bit your lip to try not to say something dumb. Enid finally looked up at you, cute puppy dog eyes, “It’s okay.. I know you didn’t mean to.. I just, didn’t want you to see what I was—“

“Fantasizing?” Wednesday finished, “Yours was no better, you like me watching?” Enid replies, Wednesday for the first time was actually embarrassed. “Well.. no, your infectious personality just corrupted my dream.” Wednesday lies, but gets an idea. She turns to you, and looks you up and down.

“I have a way of you to repay us… help us make our dreams a reality.” She said, which piqued the interest of Enid. She walked over to Wednesday, a bit conflicted but when she met Wednesdays gaze, she accepted and also turned to you.

“I mean.. it’s only fair.” She said hiding a sly grin, and you were obviously stuck between a rock and.. two very hard places. You sighed and gently gripped your shirt. “Well.. we can all at least enjoy it.

And Enjoy you did.

Dawn began to crack though the glass windows and hit your eyes, they flickered opened and you looked to the roof off the room, Wednesday was already awake, just not particularly motivated in moving. Snuggled up with your left arm she tilted her head near yours.

“I half expected you to die during it, Enid gets insatiable during the mating season.” Wednesdays palm gently pressed against the center of your chest, feeling your heartbeat. “I’m… actually glad you’re alive.”

“Well of course, would he too much work getting rid of my body.” You said jokingly, you couldn’t see it, but she smiled slightly. “That too… but I’d be upset we might not be able to continue this… Polyamorous relationship more.”

“It’s not because I’m really good at working my tongue, is it?” You moved your hand down her backside. Wednesday bit her lip to avoid admitting that her moans were louder than she’d like to admit. “Your performance was.. sufficient.” Wednesday said, “Well I’m sure Enid loved yours, although you were a pain in her ass.” You smirked, looking at the roof.

“Was that an attempt at a joke?” She said.

“Yeah, funny wasn’t it?” You asked, moments pass, silence, until Wednesday uttered;

“No.”

[wandering-winchesters]

A Moment too Late

Summary: A hunt goes wrong, leaving you seriously injured and Dean grappling with guilt. But through it all, the bond you share only grows stronger as you both fight through the pain and recovery together. Word Count: 1,515

Masterlist

The night was eerily quiet, the kind of stillness that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You moved through the abandoned warehouse with caution, your senses on high alert as you searched for the creature that had been terrorizing the small town. The shadows seemed to shift and move with a life of their own, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched.

Dean was supposed to be with you, but he had been delayed, caught up in another part of the investigation. You had insisted you could handle it on your own, that you didn’t need backup for this one, but now, as the tension in the air thickened, you were starting to regret that decision.

You gripped your weapon tightly, your heartbeat echoing in your ears as you edged deeper into the warehouse. The creature—a wendigo, if your research was correct—was smart, cunning, and deadly. You knew you had to be careful, but there was a sense of urgency driving you forward. You needed to finish this before it could hurt anyone else.

As you turned a corner, the smell hit you—rotting flesh and decay. It was close, too close. You stepped carefully, your eyes scanning the darkened space for any sign of movement. But before you could react, the creature lunged out of the shadows, its grotesque form moving with terrifying speed.

You fired off a shot, but the bullet barely slowed it down. The wendigo was on you in seconds, its claws slashing through the air. You dodged the first swipe, but the second caught you across the abdomen, the pain searing through your body like fire.

You gasped, stumbling back as you tried to regain your footing, but the creature wasn’t done. It knocked the weapon from your hand, sending it skittering across the floor. Panic surged through you as you realized how vulnerable you were—your weapon out of reach, the pain making it hard to think, hard to move.

Just as the wendigo reared back to strike again, you heard it—a roar of fury that cut through the chaos like a knife.

“Get away from her!”

Dean.

He charged into the warehouse, his face a mask of pure rage as he fired off several rounds into the creature. The wendigo screeched, its focus shifting from you to the new threat. But even as it turned to face Dean, you could see the weariness in its movements—it was injured, slowing down. Dean’s bullets had hit their mark.

But it wasn’t enough to stop it.

Dean kept firing, driving the creature back, but the wendigo was relentless, determined to take at least one of you down with it. It lunged at Dean, and he barely had time to dodge, the claws grazing his arm as he moved to put himself between you and the monster.

“Stay back, Y/N!” Dean shouted, his voice laced with desperation as he continued to fire. “I’ve got this!”

But you couldn’t stay back. Not when Dean was risking his life to protect you. Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you pushed yourself up, ignoring the pain that radiated from your wound. You had to help him. You couldn’t let the wendigo take him down.

You spotted your weapon lying a few feet away and lunged for it, your fingers closing around the familiar grip. The wendigo had Dean pinned against a stack of crates, its claws inches from his throat, but you had a clear shot.

You took it.

The silver bullet struck the creature in the chest, and it let out a deafening screech as it staggered back, clutching at the wound. Dean wasted no time—he grabbed his own weapon and fired the final shot, hitting the wendigo squarely in the head.

The creature fell to the ground with a heavy thud, its body dissolving into ash before your eyes. The threat was over, but the adrenaline that had been keeping you going finally ran out. You collapsed to your knees, your vision blurring as the pain and exhaustion caught up with you.

“Y/N!” Dean was at your side in an instant, his hands steadying you as he gently lowered you to the ground. “Y/N, stay with me. You’re going to be okay, just stay with me.”

You tried to focus on his voice, but everything was slipping away, the world growing darker around the edges. The last thing you saw before you lost consciousness was Dean’s face, his eyes filled with fear and desperation.

When you woke, it was to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the soft hum of machines. You were in a hospital bed, the bright lights overhead making you squint as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Your body ached all over, a dull, throbbing pain that made it hard to move.

“Y/N?”

Dean’s voice, filled with relief, drew your attention. He was sitting in a chair beside your bed, his hand gently holding yours. His face was haggard, dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, but the worry in his expression melted away as soon as he saw you were awake.

“Hey,” you croaked, your voice raspy and weak. “Did we get it?”

Dean let out a breath he’d been holding, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, we got it. Thanks to you.”

You tried to smile back, but the effort was too much, and you winced as a sharp pain shot through your side. Dean’s expression immediately shifted to one of concern, and he gently squeezed your hand.

“Don’t push yourself,” he said softly. “You were hurt pretty bad. The doctors said you’ll need time to heal, but you’re going to be okay.”

You nodded, the reality of the situation sinking in. You were alive, but it had been close—too close. “Dean, I’m sorry… I should’ve waited for you.”

Dean shook his head, his grip on your hand tightening. “Don’t apologize, Y/N. You did what you had to do, and you saved my ass back there. I just… I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. I should’ve been there to protect you.”

You could see the guilt in his eyes, the weight of it pressing down on him. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have known what would happen, but the pain was too overwhelming, making it hard to think straight.

“Just rest,” Dean said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, you need to focus on getting better.”

The days that followed were a blur of pain, medication, and restless sleep. The wound was deep, the recovery slow and grueling. Every movement hurt, and there were times when the frustration and helplessness threatened to overwhelm you.

But Dean was there, every step of the way. He refused to leave your side, helping you with everything from sitting up in bed to changing your bandages. He was patient, even when you weren’t—always there to offer a comforting word or a steady hand when you needed it most.

On the worst days, when the pain was unbearable and the road to recovery seemed too long, Dean would sit beside you, his presence a constant source of comfort. He would talk to you, telling stories from past hunts, or just sit in silence, his hand resting on yours, reminding you that you weren’t alone.

“You’re going to get through this, Y/N,” he would say, his voice full of quiet determination. “You’re the strongest person I know, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”

And slowly, day by day, you started to heal. The pain lessened, the wound began to close, and you found yourself regaining your strength. It was a slow process, but with Dean by your side, you felt like you could face anything.

One evening, as you sat on the couch in the motel room, finally able to move around without too much pain, you looked over at Dean, who was sitting beside you, his eyes tired but filled with relief.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude. “For everything.”

Dean looked at you, his expression softening. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. We’re a team. I’ve got your back, and you’ve got mine. That’s how it works.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the physical pain. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Dean smiled, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “You’ll never have to find out,” he said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And as you leaned into his touch, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you could face them—because with Dean by your side, you were never alone.

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @jc-winchester @hobby27 @mishreem

[moonkkives]

- ( NEWSFLASH! )

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader, charles leclerc x platonic fem!reader, driver!reader

summary: charles can’t tell what’s worse, having to deal with ferrari or having to see his two best friends pinning on each other.

warning: fluffy!, charles wingman this time <3, mentions of banging someone’s head against a metal door <3

word count: 635

them: sundress, zoo culture

author's note: daniel back in the grid? hello? <3 also can we please talk about how f1 official social media is ignoring nyck like he’s the plague?

also, send any requests/ideas for this story if you have any! these are my babies right here 😭

max had hit a new low, charles noticed.

like, he was never one to effectively hide his feelings for his teammate; but this was starting to become a problem.

in part for his well-being, because, to be honest, if he looked at max’s lovesick eyes filling you every move when you weren’t looking he was going to throw up.

both metaphorically and physically.

but also, it was slowly but surely starting to affect his racing career — you just worked too well together. way too well.

it was one thing that red bull being an absolute rocket ship. it was another, however, when your connection to your teammate so deep that it was a huge task to be able to get past both of you on track.

you move in synchrony all of the time, easily switching between defending and attacking

your dynamic was pure magic, as david croft had mentioned many times in the past.

you were both aware, because, how could you not? terrorizing the rest of the gird had become your whole personality.

“better luck next time charles, hopefully!” “yeah, that ferrari is certainly— some thing else.”

pierre always laughed at charles’ face after.

and charles always pinched your arm in revenge.

but honestly, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy for you. he couldn’t think of anyone else more deserving to be in a top team at the moment.

similar to max, charles and you also went way back. only that you became best friends from the get go.

so, you can imagine how much charles has suffered for the past million years watching both of you blindly pin on each other.

you might we’re talented, but you sure are oblivious as fuck.

fast forward to today, he felt lando fake a gag right beside him as they were walking towards their cars to get ready for the pre-race driver’s parade.

“are you seeing that?” lando asked, “disgusting.”

charles chuckled, eyes setting on the pair that had undoubtedly catched the eyes of many people on track.

you were both walking ahead of the group, side by side and in your little own world. max was laughing at something you had said.

it probably wasn’t even that funny, but charles wasn’t going to go there.

max responded to your comment, making you let out a chuckle and softly push his arm. but a smile on his face, he took the chance and confidently wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

he heard lando let out a low teasing “ooh”.

they both watched as you trailed your fingers down his back, before wrapping it around his waist.

this time lando let out a surprised laugh, “ooh—“ he started, “that was cheeky.”

charles laughed, slapping his arm “mate, you’re being too loud!”

lando ignored him, eyes glued to both of your figures as you walked side by side, arms in arms. “she’s getting confident! did you see that little—“ he said, imitating your previous hand movement down max’s back “little thing. baby’s gonna get her man!”

he could now hear albon’s laugh coming from behind them, having now caught up on the gossip. albon pushed lando from behind.

charles shushed them both, however, his eyes were gleaming with amusement. “can you guys be any more obvious!”

lando groaned, “oh, come on! someone has to tell them!”

“absolutely not.” charles refuted, just like he had since day one, “they’ll figure it out themselves.

albon raised a brow at him, “how are you so sure?” he asked, now walking beside him and lando

charles chuckled, “because,” he started. “if they don’t, i’ll bang my head against a metal door.”

with his eyes still on you, charles couldn’t help but smile at the ways your arms were wrapped around each other, heads angling to meet in the middle and footsteps synchronized.

you were going to figure it out, charles thought, you had to. . . right?