#seriously go look it up and watch it for yourself right now if you’re curious

[golvio]

I absolutely LOVE how they reworked the Stranger’s route and design! It’s so much better than anything we saw in the demo! The themes of that chapter cohere so beautifully, and the Princess’ final design is so wonderfully nightmarish that I infinitely prefer it to even the first Stranger design. Abby and Tony really outdid themselves here, I can tell Nichole had a lot of fun doing the voicework for this chapter, and kudos to the sound mixer who handled Johnny’s lines for the part where everything starts happening all at once!

[fan-fantasies]

Fake It

Please comment and reblog! I’d appreciate it!

A/N: I apologize for my absence but life is roundhouse kicking my ass right now. But I’m super excited about this piece!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: smut! Dom!eddie, spitting, name calling (both sweet and dirty- slut), unprotected sex, daddy kink!, creampie, mentions of porn

“Maybe it’s me; maybe I’m broken,” you sighed to Robin. She simply rolled her eyes as she continued to sort through the return stack.

“It’s not you- guys just suck,” she said.

“Hey!” Steve yelled from the back.

“Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop then!” You yelled back.

“Maybe you guys should just speak louder!”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna kill him,” you mumbled. “Seriously, Robin- is it to much to ask for a guy to make me feel good? He doesn’t even have to make me cum, just make me feel something!”

“Eh-hem.” The sudden clearing of a throat made you jump as you whipped around to see a flustered Eddie Munson standing awkwardly at the counter.

“Shit!”

“Munson! What’s up, man?” Steve said with a smile, emerging from the back.

“N-not a whole lot. Looking to see if you got any new releases in,” he said, his eyes not leaving you the whole time.

“(Y/N) definitely hasn’t,” Robin mumbled. You threw an empty case at her which she easily dodged.

“Um, yeah, let me check the back. I think I did see some new titles.”

Steve wandered to the back, leaving you flustered in front of Eddie. He stared at his shoes and rocked back and forth, not really sure what to say to you.

“I think I’m gonna go help Steve,” Robin said before heading off. You tried to catch her attention and tell her no but she purposely didn’t look back at you.

She was the only one that knew about your crush on the metalhead, although she claimed it was obvious by the way you became a flustered mess any time he was around. Despite him being one of the kindest people you had ever met, you were always too scared to make a move. So that’s why you settled for less than mediocre dates with far less than mediocre guys.

“So, uh, any plans for the weekend?” You asked, trying to break the horrible tension.

“Just gonna hang out and watch some movies,” Eddie answered.

“Right, right. Of course,” you mumbled, mentally facepalming yourself.

“Why do you ask?” He asked.

“Just curious! I think I’m gonna go see what’s taking those two idiots so long.”

Before Eddie could say anything else, you booked it to the back. You crashed into Robin and Steve who were listening behind the curtain that closed off the back room from the counter.

“What the fuck is taking you guys so long?” You whispered.

“We we’re having too much fun listening to you crash and burn out there,” Steve snickered. “I’m sure if you asked him to hang out, he would say yes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You have Robin a death glare but she threw up her hands.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, it’s just really obvious,” Steve chuckled. “Here, bring him this.”

Steve shoved you back out there with the tape in your hands.

“Did they get lost or something?” Eddie asked with a small smile.

“Pretty hard to find things when they have their heads shoved up each other’s asses,” you said loud enough for them to hear.

Eddie let out a loud laugh and it made your heart jump up your throat. He looked down at the tape in your hand and reached for it.

“For me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You rang him out and handed him the tape. “I’ll see you around.”

“I’m counting on it,” he smiled.

—

“Why are the guys around here so boring?” You asked to no one in particular.

“I’m not boring!” Steve scoffed.

“Yeah okay,” you laughed. “What’s the most adventurous things you’ve done in bed?”

“Well…I… I’ve used a scarf?”

“A scarf?” You repeated.

“Were you cold?” Robin asked.

“No, I wasn’t cold! We used it as a blindfold,” he said sheepishly.

“I highly doubt you’ve blindfolded a girl,” you challenged.

“I never said she was the one blindfolded,” he said with a smirk.

“Harrington!” Robin gasped. Steve wiggled his eyebrows as you fake gagged.

“I can be a…what’s the new term kids are using these days…oh right, I can be daddy.” Steve tried to purr but failed miserably.

“You give off more of a mommy vibe,” you said. “You and your scarf of mystery.”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly kinky, Steve. Grandparents are using blindfolds these days,” Robin added.

“Yeah, why do you think they like knitting so much?” The three of you jumped when you heard the voice interrupt. Eddie stood there with a very amused expression on his devilishly handsome face.

“That’s gross,” Steve scowled.

“Thought it was kinky?” You laughed. Steve rolled his eyes before turning back to Eddie.

“(Y/N), here, was just saying how all the guys around here are boring in bed. Care to weigh in?”

“Steve!” You smacked his arm. “That’s not exactly appropriate to ask a customer.”

“A customer? Ouch. And here I was thinking we were friends,” Eddie said, holding his hand to his chest.

“We are friends,” you mumbled, rather embarrassed.

“Good,” Eddie beamed. He slid his return across the desk. “And I can promise you that not all the guys in this town are boring.”

Eddie sent you a wink before heading back out the door. Your jaw dropped as his words spun in your head. Robin ever so gently closed your mouth for you.

“Didn’t want you to catch any flies,” she chuckled.

“I bet he’s never used a scarf,” Steve grumbled angrily. “Maybe I should take up knitting.”

—

The next time you saw Eddie was at a small get together that Steve and Robin threw together last minute. You weren’t expecting him to be there but he was a part of the group now so you didn’t know why you didn’t think of it.

You sat in the kitchen with Nancy and Robin, lamenting about your recent and pitiful sexual conquests.

“Two dates, two duds- I literally have the worst luck!” You sighed. “I mean, is it too much to ask for a guy to eat me out and spit in my mouth?”

Nancy’s eyes widened as she looked behind you. You froze in your spot, not wanting to turn around.

“H-hey, Eddie,” Robin tried to smile awkwardly. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath. Why was it always him?

“Hey, ladies,” he coughed. “Mind if I grab a drink?”

“Go for it,” Nancy said.

Eddie moved around you and reached across you to the drinks you were sat in front of. His eyes dropped down to your lips for a split second before moving back up to your eyes.

“Hi, (y/n),” he said loud enough for only you to hear. You swore you saw a smirk on his lips but your mind went into overdrive and you had to focus solely on breathing and not passing out.

“Earth to (y/n)? Can you move so we can grab a drink?” Dustin yelled from behind Eddie.

“I got it, man,” Eddie said, reaching across you again. His body was pressed to your side as he poured a couple drinks for his friends. His scent invaded your senses as you felt the heat from his body blanket your own. You didn’t realize your fluttered closed until he cleared his throat. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered.

“You sure? I could bring you home if you’re not feeling well,” he offered.

“No! I’m good, I swear.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled. He gave you one last look-over before he finally retreated to the other room and you thought Nancy and Robin were going to double over in laughter.

“You know…Eddie might just be the solution to your little problem. He’s probably a freak in more places than just the streets,” Robin said with a wink.

“You’re insane!”

“She’s right! He’s totally into you and everyone knows you’re head over heels for him-“

“What do you mean everyone knows?” You shrieked.

“I’m just saying, you don’t exactly hide it well,” Nancy said. You rolled your eyes at your ridiculous friends and went back to sipping your drink.

You couldn’t get the image of Eddie out of your head for the rest of the night. By the time you got home, you were a mess, and not the kind you wanted to be. You settled into your bed for a long night of frustrating attempts to seek a release, one that never came.

—

“It has to be me; I’m definitely broken. If I can’t even fuck myself how can I expect anyone else to?” You sighed to Robin on the other end of the phone.

“Sounds like there’s something blocking that part of your brain. It’s probably that fact that you’re lusting over a certain metalhead whom you refuse to make a move on,” she said. You groaned and threw yourself back on your bed.

“He doesn’t want me,” you told her.

“You never know until you ask.”

“Yeah well I’m never gonna ask so just drop it. Please?” You pleaded.

“…fine…I’m gonna bring a care package over to your place later and we can hang out and take your mind off of things, okay?” She said.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you later.”

You hung up with your friend and stared at your ceiling. You needed to figure something out soon or you were going to combust.

Hours passed and you almost forgot Robin’s promise to stop over. You were in nothing but an oversized tshirt and your panties, not shy in front of your lifelong friend. When you heard the doorbell ring, you thought nothing of it as you bounded down the stairs toward the front door.

“Rob- oh my god!” You froze as you saw someone who was definitely not Robin Buckley standing outside your door. “Eddie?”

“Sorry…I thought Robin told you I was coming?”

You looked at the bag in his hands, filled with some of your favorite items, and everything started to click.

“I’m gonna kill her,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing! Thanks so much for bringing this for her, you really didn’t have to go through all the trouble.”

You tried to grab the bag from his hand and close the door but his grip was tight and his stance unwavering.

“She also told me I have to stay here and make sure you relax sooo do you mind if I come in, sweetheart?” He asked, already pushing past you and into your house.

“Sure?”

“Folks aren’t home yet?” He asked, taking a look around. You stood dumbfounded in your doorway, his question snapping you back to reality.

“They’re out of town visiting friends for the week,” you answered. You closed the door behind you and went to grab the bag but he stopped you.

“Not so fast, beautiful. I need to quality check the items first.”

You didn’t think anything of it until Eddie started to pull out a wide array of items-

a box of your favorite candy, some lotion, a scarf. You were confused by the selection but nothing mortified you more than what Eddie pulled out next.

“Talk dirty to me, parts one and two,” Eddie said with a huge smile.

“Oh my god!” You snatched the pornos out of his hands and threw them back in the bag.

“Damn, when Robin said you needed to relax, I guess she wasn’t kidding,” he laughed.

“Okay, I’m thoroughly embarrassed and ready to crawl under a rock so you can go now,” you said, trying to pull him toward the door by his arm. He pulled you back flush against his chest.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. That’s no way to treat a house guest, now is it?” The deep rumble of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“N-no,” you whispered.

“No what?”

“No…sir?”

“Good girl,” he smiled. He backed you against the wall, your heart beating a mile a minute. “Do you want me to help you relax?”

“Yes, sir,” you said without even having to think.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said with a faint smile on your lips. You trusted Eddie more than you trusted most people and you knew he would take care of you.

He grabbed the bag and led you to your bedroom. You were nervous, not because it was Eddie, but because part of you really did believe you were broken and you didn’t want to be a disappointment to Eddie.

Eddie must’ve sensed your nerves because he turned to you and grabbed both your hands, looking you in the eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know? We can just hang out o-or I can just leave…”

“No! No, don’t go. I’m just in my head a little, that’s all,” you sighed. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to it.

“I’ve got you; please don’t worry,” he said. You simply nodded before letting him grab the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head. His eyes scanned your bare torso with nothing but adoration in his eyes. He left your panties on as he laid you down on your bed. You heard the bag rustle and the scent of lavender soon filled your nose.

“Just try and relax, baby,” he said softly. He rubbed the lotion together in his hands to warm it up before gentle squeezing your shoulders and running his hands down your back. He worked your tense muscles under his calloused hands, making you melt almost instantly.

The lower his hands went, the tighter the coil went in your stomach, just begging for release. He worked on your thighs, squeezing your ass in the process. His hands lingered on your ass for a minute before they slid back up to your shoulders.

You wriggled your hips uncomfortably, preferring he would’ve shown your aching pussy some much needed attention.

Eddie got impatient with your moving so he straddled your waist and pinned your hips down with his.

“Just try and enjoy this, sweetheart,” he said.

“I’d enjoy something else a lot more,” you groaned. He hit a particularly tense spot and you moaned as he massaged the knot. You felt him shift, pressing more into your ass. You let breathy whimpers fall from your lips as he started to grind his hips against you.

“Eddie, please,” you whined.

“Please, what, baby? Ask daddy nicely,” he said. The way he said that with no shame, completely confident and in control, made your mouth go dry. He stopped the movement of his hips- “I won’t ask again.”

“P-please touch me, daddy,” you begged.

“I am touching you, love,” he chuckled.

“No, I want you to fuck me!”

He moved back and slapped your ass, making you yelp.

“Watch the attitude before I fuck it out of you,” he warned.

“If you can,” you mumbled under your breath. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back.

“What was that?” He growled in your ear.

“I don’t think you can fuck me that hard, daddy,” you challenged. He let out a dark chuckle.

“Of course you’re a fucking brat,” he laughed. “I should’ve guessed. Maybe that’s why no other little boys in this town could satisfy you. You needed a man to know how to handle you, baby. Is that it?”

His other hand snaked it’s way into your panties; he was delighted to find out just how wet you already were for him.

“Yes, please. I need you!”

“There’s your manners; what a good girl.”

“Mm, yes. I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl,” you mumbled incoherently as he started to rub slow circles on your clit.

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a smug smirk.

You were trying to grind against his hand, trying to get more stimulation but he wasn’t having it. You were flipped onto your back and panties were ripped from your body, exposing your slick pussy to Eddie. He reached over to the bag and grabbed the scarf that you were suspecting Steve had something to do with.

“Since you have a problem with holding still-“ he grabbed your wrists and tied them with the scarf, putting them over your head. “Don’t. Move.”

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered.

Eddie crawled down so he was eye level with your pussy and it was hard not to move with anticipation. You needed him to touch you, to do anything, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to dive in and eat your pussy like a starving man.

“Eddie!” You shrieked. Your hands flew down to his hair and he immediately stopped.

“This is your one warning, babe,” he said as he threw your hands back up.

He turned his attention back to your clit, giving it kitten licks with his tongue. He would tease it at your entrance, only to return to your sensitive bundle of nerves. He was quickly bringing you to the brink of an orgasm, faster than you’ve ever gotten yourself there.

“Fuck, please. Please make me cum,” you whined. “Use your fingers.”

“You’re in no place to be making demands, princess,” he chuckled, his chin glistening. “The only thing going inside you tonight is my cock.”

His words alone were enough to build a fire in your stomach. He gripped your hips and pulled you flush with his face and you were certain he wasn’t even breathing. He ravaged his pussy with his tongue. Your head was swimming but you tried your best not to move, terrified he would stop and wouldn’t let you come. What a cruel punishment that would be- the only man to ever even bring you close to an orgasm only to take it away because you disobeyed.

The closer you came to the edge, the louder you chanted his name. He focused solely on your clit, providing enough pressure to finally push you over the edge. Your body convulsed as a powerful orgasm crashed over you. He didn’t let you go however, continuing to lap at your pussy as you came.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he crawled over your body and you expected him to kiss you but he didn’t. Instead, he tapped your jaw and said, “open.”

Your eyes widened more than your mouth when he spit directly onto your tongue. He didn’t even have to ask you to swallow, just smiled with pride as you did.

“Somebody listens,” you said with a smirk.

“Of course. How else am I gonna please my girl?” He asked. Your brain short circuited when he called you that but you played it cool.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you sighed happily.

“Did you think I was done with you yet? I told you, the only thing inside you tonight is gonna be my cock. So if it’s okay with you, I’d like to feel just how well you take my cock,” he said with a devilish grin.

“Do I get to lose the scarf?” You asked.

“Only because you were such a good girl for daddy.”

He untied you and threw it to the side of the bed. He finally took off his shirt and jeans, leaving him in his underwear. You could see the outline of his cock straining against the fabric and it made your mouth water.

You reached toward the hem of his underwear and he let you take them off. You ran your fingers along his length, as if memorizing every detail.

You leaned forward and he stopped you. Your heart nearly stopped, thinking you did something wrong.

“I just can’t wait to feel your pussy, baby. That’s all,” he reassured you.

“Please, daddy? I just wanna taste you.”

“Are you questioning me? You take what daddy gives you and then you thank him.”

He lined up with your entrance, gathering your slick on his head.

“Daddy thinks quite highly of himself,” you teased.

“God, maybe I should fuck your mouth just to shut you up,” he growled.

“You won’t,” you challenged further.

Without warning, he slammed balls deep into you.

“You’re right. I won’t. Greedy little sluts don’t get what they want. You’re gonna get used however I want. I’m gonna fuck your pussy until you can’t even think of walking. You’re gonna milk my cock until I fill you with my cum.”

You were left breathless at his relentless thrusts but still managed to croak out a moan when he said that.

“Oh you like that, dirty girl? Of course you do. Letting me fuck you raw. You’re gonna let me cum so deep inside you, yeah?” His head fell into the crook of your neck as you raked his back with your nails.

“Daddy, I’m so close. Can I cum? Please, daddy, let me cum,” you cried. Literal tears formed in your eyes as you felt the coil tighten in your stomach once more.

“Shit, what a good girl. Fuck, didn’t even have to tell you to ask permission,” he grunted. “Cum, sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.”

The tears flowed freely as your vision went white and all you could hear was static for a second before returning to reality. Eddie fucked you through your orgasm- trying so hard to keep his rhythm while close to cumming himself.

“Ohh fuck!” A few more thrusts and he was emptying into you, spreading a warmth throughout your entire body.

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak out of you, down your shaking thighs, and onto your now ruined bed sheets.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked, wiping the tears from your face.

“Yeah, sorry. That was just…I’m speechless. Phenomenal doesn’t even begin to describe it,” you said.

“You mean it?” He asked. His overconfident facade melted away and it made your heart swell.

“Eddie, that was everything I could’ve asked for and more.” You placed a gentle hand on his face and he leaned into your touch.

“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” he chuckled.

“Did you want to?”

“I would like to kiss you every day if I got the chance,” he admitted.

“I think that could be arranged,” you said before pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“You’re gonna have to learn to obey your daddy then,” he told you.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” you laughed.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. That just means I get to punish you and fuck you ten times harder.”

“That better be a promise, not a threat.”

“God, you’re perfect.” He kissed you again and pulled you on top of his chest. “Get plenty of rest, sweet girl. Tomorrow we’re having a whole date day to make up for this unceremonious rendezvous.”

“We can return the scarf to Steve,” you chuckled.

“And you can thank Robin for setting this up.”

“Yeah…I should thank her…right after I kill her for embarrassing me so much.”

“It worked out, didn’t it?” He retorted.

“I guess it did,” you said with a smile. “Now that I know you can make me cum, I’m never letting you go.”

“I’ll make you cum every goddamn day if it means I get to keep you.”

———————

Taglist: @mellomadness @munsaniac @thebookbakery @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @rafecameronswhore @dootys @tiredwritersworld @lily-sinclair-2006 @dylanobriens-love @moonbeampillgoth @lady-hellfire-1985 @lagataprrr @whore-of-many-hot-men @crimsonsabbath @moldy-khunt @wheaty-melon

Sorry if I missed anyone! I was trying to rush!

[princessbrunette]

you’d never been in trouble in your life.

scolded, sure. told off for staring? almost daily. but only now had you ended up in the sheriffs office, wound up in more trouble than intended all for being curious. you’d been wandering around the obx, off in your own world— your favourite lonesome activity. the pogues had been off on some mission that pope hadn’t allowed you on, so naturally you found your own fun, frolicking through the forest to find cool looking mushrooms and plants. you didn’t mean to end up on a kooks property. you also didn’t mean to set off their alarms.

you play with the lone leaf you had shoved into your pocket before the owner of the land had called the cops on you and had you taken in. you were fine, you had got in the police car yourself and didn’t resist in the slightest— but you were a little afraid. the leaf you’d plucked from the ground brings you comfort as you sit on the cold office seat swinging your legs. then, you hear the commotion before you see it.

pope had been called upon your request to collect you, and bounding in wildly by his side was jj, yanking his red cap off his head to cuss the place down.

“control your dog, heyward.” the female officer sneers as they arrive in the main area where you were in holding. pope locks eyes with you and bounds over, wide eyed.

“what happened here?” he stresses, brow creased in exasperation. you blink, looking around with a shrug still twiddling with the stem of the plant you’d plucked.

“all you gotta do is sign her out. dont need any commotion. owner of the land said he wouldn’t press charges for tresspassin’ with your written word that you’d stay off his property.” shoupe rolls his shoulders, clearly over the whole ordeal too. you could tell deep down he thought it was ridiculous, but he was dedicated to putting on a front and doing his job.

“she got arrested for walking on some grass? shoupe, you know that’s not right.” pope steps forward in emphasis, and immediately two officers stand beside the man in charge protectively, causing pope to sigh and slow his movements.

“the owners recently had a break in. stole about five thousand worth in jewellery, and a couple hundred in cash. when they caught her snoopin’ around on the land they suspected she could maybe have been the burglar.”

jj’s eyes practically bulge out of his head, ducking his head in disbelief. “her?” he deadpans, arriving at your side to grasp your shoulders. “this lil’ girl. you think she was responsible for a damn heist? y’all must have lost your minds i swear to—” the blonde raises his voice and pope shakes his head dejectedly, holding up his hand.

“jj, chill.”

he scoffs, taking a lap— leaving you with your boyfriend and the sheriff.

“now no one’s pointin’ fingers here. i don’t believe this young lady is capable of such a crime either. but they called it in, and i had to check it out. she’s all good to go.” shoupe stares the two of you down, and you shuffle towards pope, watching him as he lets out another disgruntled sigh, crossing his thick arm over himself to itch his opposing shoulder which made his bicep bulge, attracting your wide eyes again for a moment.

“yeah.” is all he says, hastily signing away the papers, keeping his glare on the officer. “this is some bullshit and you know it. we good to go?” he asks seriously and shoupe silently nods, allowing the boy to guide you away from the station — maybank already taken off to the car.

outside, heyward stops infront of you and you blink up at him with knitted brows, unsure if he was mad at you.

“did they hurt you in there?” his voice is gravelly, more serious than you’re used to. it takes you a moment to shake your head.

“uh-uh. i got in the police car by myself.” you note and his own brows furrow, placing two coarse hands on your arms.

“you need to be careful when i’m not around. okay? i know you like to explore, right it’s your thing — but just… you need to watch out for these cops. you saw what they did to john b a while back, what they accused him off. they are dirty. do you hear what im saying?” his voice is gentle, but his expression is urgent— not letting go of you. it’s only then you let the tears pool in your eyes, not quite understanding the severity of what could have possibly happened until then.

“i’m sorry.” your lip wobbles and his hands rise to cup your cheeks instead, thumb pressing to your bottom lip as if to stop it from shaking.

“don’t be. it’s those asshole cops who should be sorry. look, there’s nothing to be scared of sweetheart. i’m here. jj would’a burned that place to the ground if they laid a hand on you. but… i just don’t want you to get into trouble and wind up like me. yeah?”

you nod, and he pulls you to his chest, your hands clutching onto the loose muscle tank he wore as he holds you. “i’m sensing you need some food. do i sense correctly?” you hear the smile in his voice, and everything feels okay again.

“mhm.”

“cool. cars this way, let’s get you some fries, bambie.”

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 16 || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: ig major character death but that’s kind of a technicality, vampire biting, blood drinking, vampire biting, fangwarming??? lmfao, fluff, what i hope is a plot twist lol wc: 5.1k

The passage behind the thrones leads to a corridor not far from Taehyung’s wing. It’s close to the section of rooms that are meant to be yours now. Yours, for your new life as an Infracti. For your new life as the King’s sperasa, until you become Queen.

You’d agreed that doing the ritual in your wing would be best, so that they won’t have to transport you - newly turned, probably unconscious - through the palace.

You are afraid.

You let yourself feel it, don’t deny yourself the right to float in the crawling sensation of terror clawing its way up from your stomach. Taehyung’s hand in yours can’t dispel it. Your pride in him and your love for him, mighty as they are, can’t dispel it.

You’ve become accustomed to fear in your time here. You press on.

In your main room, still unfamiliar to you, Taehyung holds you close, one hand on the back of your head and the other around your waist. You let him hold you, close your eyes.

“Brave,” he whispers.

“I don’t feel very brave,” you admit quietly.

A knock on the door comes and the Queen enters, followed by Jimin. Behind him is Seokjin of Score, and Namjoon. Taehyung arranged all of this once you and Dr. Kim had explained what would be needed.

Namjoon finds you and approaches, face solemn.

“You ready?” he asks quietly as you look over the written countercurse together.

“Have to be,” you say. “Are you?”

He nods. “We can do this,” he asserts.

“And then you get to go home,” you say.

He nods, looking up at you from the parchment. “I’m going as soon as we can confirm it worked,” he tells you, a bit of apology in his tone. Like he’s sorry he isn’t staying with you - even though there’s no way he could.

“Good,” you say, meaning it. “Tell your grandfather… Thank you for everything. And… Thank you, too. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“It was an honor,” he says, quietly, then adds, “I’m grateful, too.”

You feel yourself choking up, and you will it away. You need to be clear-headed, professional. There isn’t room for this - not now. You’ll have to be sad later. Still, you tell him, “I hope I can come see you both soon. I’ll try - as soon as I’m able to be around humans.”

He smiles sadly. “Don’t come until you’re sure you won’t eat us.”

“I promise,” you say, smiling a little. 

He regards you seriously again. Behind him, Taehyung seems to be organizing the items you’d asked for, going over the directions again. Namjoon says, “This might be goodbye for a while, huh?”

“If the countercurse works,” you agree.

You both seem to hover on the precipice of a hug goodbye. In the end, he gives you a final clap on the shoulder, and then the plan is lurching into motion around you.

The Queen has the things you need - the metronome, a jar of ashes.

You set the metronome to a slow rate, and then usher everyone into place in the open space of the room. Then, you sprinkle the ashes in a perfect circle around the group, locking you in with the magic. No one speaks. They just watch you work, ranging from curious to subdued.

When the circle is perfect, you pull out the parchment with the countercurse and explain one last time.

“This is the point, right here,” you say, pointing and showing the paper around the group of Infracti, “when Namjoon will take over the incantation. The ashes will keep the magic close-by, but you need to close the circle as quickly as possible or we’ll lose the connection.”

“We’ve got it,” Seokjin assures you, steady. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you say, pulse thundering. You wish there was anything you could do to stall. You wish there was a blanket you could pull over your head. You wish there was someone from the future who could come tell you that everything would work out, that things would go as you intend.

“If anything goes wrong,” you add, “break contact as fast as you can, and break the circle of ashes to let the magic out. The quicker the better.”

It is the Queen - though, she is not that anymore, now that her son has been crowned - who lays a cool hand on your arm.

“Nothing will go wrong,” she tells you evenly. “We are all here beside you.”

You nod, wordless.

“I’m going to start, then,” you say, but you have to clear your throat once to make it audible.

You mutter a spell you’d looked up just for this, and your parchment obeys the command, hovering mid-air between you and Namjoon, supported by nothing. Namjoon stands to your right and the Queen to your left, and you press your palms to theirs. With everyone in place, you make a perfect circle, with Taehyung straight across.

“Breathe with the beat of the metronome,” you instruct. “Inhale… exhale…”

You breathe in time with everyone around you until you feel your magic rise up, flowing out to mingle with theirs. It takes some time before you feel ready to start the incantations; with Taehyung all the way across the circle it takes a few minutes before you feel his magical signature touch yours through the flow of everyone else’s. But it is unmistakable when he does, the warmth and belonging that accompany the sensation couldn’t be from anyone else.

When you feel like your magic and his are secure, thoroughly immersed with each other, you begin the incantation. You speak slowly and carefully, feeling the familiar sensation of the curse beginning to untangle. You keep your eyes on the page, try not to get distracted by the others.

There is no room for error - you can’t die twice.

There is no snag this time, no pull behind your navel that tells you the curse is fighting back. When you say your last line, you take your hands from those next to you and step into the circle.

Across from you, Taehyung steps forward too.

Around you, the remaining four step closer and fill the gaps you’d left behind, their hands meeting to close a small circle around you and Taehyung. Namjoon’s deep voice picks up the incantation where you left off. He’s borrowing, pulling magic from the Queen and from Jimin, who flank him.

You meet Taehyung’s eyes. Your heart is in your throat. There is so much you want to say to him. That you love him. That you trust him. That he’s worth this sacrifice.

You can’t speak, though, not during the incantation. Instead, you step close to him, breathe him in, and let him envelop you.

He wraps his arms around you, just as he had before everyone else had entered your rooms. He would have to hold tight, he’d warned you, to keep you from moving too much when your body began to instinctively fight him. And then, after, to hold you up when your legs inevitably give out.

He’d also warned you it would hurt.

You are afraid. 

You are afraid, but Taehyung is cradling you between his arms like you are precious, so you take a breath and nod.

Taehyung leans down and nuzzles the spot on your neck that he tends to favor. You stifle your cry when his fangs puncture you, letting out a mangled groan of agony through gritted teeth. You’re glad for his inhuman hold around your back, because your knees do go weak for a moment before you will them back into compliance.

There is no pulling sensation, and no welcome rush of venom. Instead, Taehyung’s hands tighten around you like a warning and then the location of his bite goes white hot.

You hear yourself scream.

The heat spreads, up your neck, down your chest. Your eyes roll back, your throat rasps as your scream continues. Your legs give out, useless beneath you. 

You feel yourself start to fight, hands clawing at Taehyung’s sides, body beginning to twist and tug. Taehyung’s hold is true, and you get nowhere. Your lungs burn and your scream dies to a whimper before starting anew after you drag in a breath.

Everything is on fire - from head to toe you are aflame. Your muscles strain to aching as your body tries and tries to wrench itself away from the pain.

Darkness creeps in the edge of your unfocused vision as you kick fruitlessly at Taehyung’s immoveable legs. You hear yourself gasping out sobs between shrieks of pain. You can see less and less, the black swirling at the edges of your vision taking over by the second.

Before the darkness closes in on you, you will yourself to focus, choke down the next scream that crawls up your throat.

You want to see him. You want to see him before you die. 

Your eyes fight to find him against the blurriness, and you blink away tears. His mouth is wet with your blood and his cheeks are wet with tears, but when he sees you looking at him, he presses his forehead to yours, and his hands on your back unclench and soothe up and down instead.

There he is, you think. My King. My love. And then you let the darkness come.

—

Taehyung looks around the meeting room, then closes his eyes and rubs a hand down his face.

His cabinet, a mix of his father’s people and some of his own, wait him out.

“Three weeks,” he repeats hollowly.

The Infracti he directs that at nods. “Yes, Maiesti. The council needs time to deliberate. This is, as you know, a bit unprecedented.”

Taehyung purses his lips. It’s true; never before has a King - or former King, technically - been put to trial. Dethroned, murdered, cast away - yes. But not like this - a trial, a ruling of guilt, a council deliberating on what sentence he should serve. A sentencing that could take nearly a month, apparently.

“Very well,” Taehyung frowns. “And what of the other trials?”

An uneasy look passes through the room.

Taehyung sighs. “I asked for this myself,” he points out. “You don’t need to be afraid to talk to me about it.”

A woman at the table inclines her head in deference to her king. “Your trial has been scheduled the week after your father’s sentencing. We thought we ought to give you time to help your sperasa recover.”

That’s where Taehyung would rather be right now, in your dark rooms with you, and everyone in his cabinet knows it.

“Thoughtful,” he murmurs, because it is, because it’s not his cabinet’s fault that he murdered innocent humans while under the power of the curse, not their fault that he wants to answer for it.

“Hoseok and I will be fully prepared to represent your defense by then,” a dark-haired Infracti seated near Jin tells him. “I’m confident in our outcome.”

They move on to discuss the third trial - Seokjin’s father, the leader of the Scores. Seokjin listens politely, but the tips of his ears go red until the topic changes. 

Taehyung ticks the trials off in his head, all three, ducks in a row.

“Let’s meet in four days’ time,” Taehyung suggests, glancing around to see if anyone objects. “The trials were my first order of business, but we have a lot of work to do restructuring things around here.”

Everyone at the table nods, and once Taehyung gives a few cabinet members specific directions for tasks to handle in the next week, they disperse.

“Off to see your feral beast?” Jimin teases, as he and Taehyung follow the trickle of people out into the corridor.

Taehyung can’t help but grin, big and boxy. “I like her like this. I’ll almost be sad when she settles down again.”

Jimin laughs at this. “It’s only been a week since you turned her. You have at least another week or two before she calms down.”

Taehyung’s expression slides into a grimace. “Hopefully I’ll still be around once she’s settled and not rotting in the palace prison.”

Jimin’s face goes unreadably blank. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he says, suddenly somber and quiet. “You’re the King. You could call it off - no one could say anything.”

Taehyung shakes his head. “I need to.”

Jimin purses his full lips at him, but doesn’t retort. Taehyung thinks that Jimin understands, even if he doesn’t like it.

“Yoongi will defend you well,” he says finally. “I’m sure the sentencing will be light.”

“I want the sentencing to be fair,” Taehyung says petulantly. “That’s the whole point.”

“It will be,” Jimin argues. “You were cursed. No one is going to hold that against you.”

Taehyung twists his mouth but doesn’t address this. They’ve been walking as they talk, and they near the doors that lead to your rooms. They’re heavily guarded - Taehyung counts seven Infracti but he knows there are more - mostly to keep you inside.

Jimin tells him goodbye, and the guards move to let him enter. He’s careful to slip through the crack in the doors quickly; the guards are careful to be ready, just in case you get through.

Your rooms are dark, the lamps all unlit, the heavy curtains closed and drowning out any sunlight that might filter through. Normally, Taehyung might expect you to have a fire crackling in the hearth, but part of turning includes several days of unbearable heat, and he’s not sure you’re past that yet.

You come out of nowhere, slamming into him from the shadows to his left, and Taehyung lets himself get knocked to the ground, landing squarely on his ass.

“Ouch,” he says, pouting at you.

Straddling him, rearing back so he can see the column of your throat working in the darkness, you curl back your upper lip, bare your brand-new fangs at him and snarl, the sound snapping and cutting.

He grins. He loves you like this. It makes him feel proud.

“What is it you need, my Queen?” he teases.

Your scowl at him, fangs hanging over your lower lip; you haven’t mastered putting them away yet, and Taehyung thinks it’s the damn cutest thing in the world.

“Drink,” you say, a demand.

“Are you thirsty?” he coos. Your scowl deepens. He knows your consciousness is cloudy right now, a haze of thirst and want and heat obscuring your finer thinking. But you’re in there, behind the haze, and each day a bit more of you shines through.

“Drink,” you insist again, petulantly.

He wishes he could take you hunting - deer, maybe even a bear. He’d loved to see you in action - he has no doubt you’d be a formidable predator, and it sends a thrill through him. But it would be too dangerous; if they happened across a human, you’d have no control. Not yet.

Maybe someday.

Instead, Taehyung flips you without warning, laying his body heavy over yours. You begin thrashing immediately, snarls rolling through you like seismic activity, but he’s stronger and he manages to hold you in place.

He gives a sharp whistle and your doors open. Your thrashing intensifies as you see an escape route, but the guards who wheel in two carts are quick, and soon enough the doors are shut again. Taehyung lets you up, and you skitter to the door, hands working at the knobs. They don’t budge.

You whirl around, looking at him furiously.

“Look,” he says happily, unphased by your anger, “they brought you drinks!”

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, you peer at the carts. There are a few items of blood-food, but unsurprisingly you pass them over. There are carafes of dark liquid, and if you wanted you could just drink. But Taehyung knows what your body is craving - just blood won’t be enough to sate you. Your fangs are tingling, itching to pierce, itching for warmth. You won’t feel better until that need is met, too.

The bags, just big enough to be cradled between two hands, are simply called Prey - a little joke by their inventor, none other than Jimin. They were created for newly-turned Infracti, meant to satisfy both needs at once. The pouch is not real skin, though it feels close enough. The blood inside is real.

You hold one between your hands, claws digging in like it might escape, and bring it to your mouth, piercing the pouch and beginning to drink. You let out a happy little sigh, and Taehyung comes to wrap his arms around you from behind.

“There,” he soothes. “Drink all you need. You’ll feel better.”

You work through three pouches before you stop, dropping the deflated Prey onto the cart it came from and turning to Taehyung with wide eyes, and the cutest fang-adorned pout.

“What is it, my love?” he murmurs, brushing a hand over the top of your head soothingly. “Don’t you feel better now that you’ve had some to drink?”

You nod, then reconsider, frowning and shaking your head.

“What’s not better?” he asks, moving to pull you into a standing cuddle.

Your frown deepens and you raise a hand and rub at your mouth, fingers sliding along your protruding fangs with a squeak.

“They hurt?” he asks sympathetically.

“Bite,” you mumble around your pout.

“Alright,” he tells you. “Let’s get comfortable.”

You loop your arms around his neck, and he takes a second to smile into your hair, holding you close. He likes you like this, too driven by your needs to be proud. He likes that you need him, that you want him, that the part of your brain that might make you pretend otherwise, or at least act like it’s less, is currently silenced by your bloodlust.

He lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you deeper into your wing, seeking out your bedroom. The blankets are rumpled, half-thrown on the ground, like you’d tried to sleep but had eventually kicked the blankets off and gotten up to pace, instead.

That’s probably exactly what happened.

He settles back against the pillows and you straddle him, arms still around his neck. You bury your face against his chest and whine.

“I know,” he tells you, rubbing a hand up your back. You hiss at the contact, pulling away from where you’d been hiding your face.

“Hurts,” you complain.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, trying to touch more gently. He knows your muscles are sore, skin hot to the touch as your body adjusts. “You can bite if you need to bite.”

“You sure?” you ask, and Taehyung notes that it’s one of your first multi-word utterances. A sign that you’re making progress, coming out of the fog a little.

“I’m sure,” he tells you.

You nose at his neck, and he strokes lightly down your back until you find a spot you like.

It’s only a sting when you pierce the skin of his shoulder, over his deltoid, for which he’s thankful. You don’t drink - sangru can’t be ingested - but leave your sore, sensitive fangs buried in his flesh. You wrap yourself around him even tighter, settling in and closing your eyes as you feel relief for the first time all day.

Taehyung tries hard to hold still so he doesn’t knock you loose. He’s glad he can do this for you, help ease your way. 

He still finds it incomprehensible that you’d give up your human life for him. He holds still, and he whispers to you that it’ll get better soon, that Potato misses you, that he loves you.

After a while, he feels your breathing even out. He shifts gently, wincing as your fangs slip from his shoulder, the wounds starting to ooze tar-black sangru. Unbothered, he moves you gently into a more comfortable sleeping position, smiling when you hum in your sleep. Then, even though he’s slept all night ever since the curse was undone, he closes his eyes and lets himself drift away with you in his arms.

—

You lay still when you awaken, slowly taking inventory of each thing that hurts. Your head isn’t pounding - that’s a first, since the night Taehyung had turned you. You flex your fingers, roll your shoulders, stretch your legs towards the end of the bed. Things are stiff, but not painful the way they’d be the last few times you’d woken.

You rise gingerly, making your way to the windows, drawing back the curtains and filling the room with light. You blink against it, letting your eyes adjust.

You’re in your own rooms, your new wing in the palace. You wander from room to room absently, trying to familiarize yourself. You feel a little lost, a little out of place. You hadn’t inhabited these rooms for long before turning, and now you’ve been out of it for so long that you don’t even know what day it is.

You’re standing in the middle of the main room - with couches and an unlit hearth, just like Taehyung’s wing - staring absently at nothing when one of your tall doors cracks open.

You almost sag with relief when you see Satuel peek her head inside.

“Hi,” you breathe, deflating.

“You’re up,” she says, sounding a bit surprised. “It’s harder to keep track of you now that I can’t hear your heartbeat from outside.”

This makes you smile. “What day is it?”

She tells you as she comes inside, and you start counting on your fingers. Almost three weeks to the day since you’d performed Taehyung’s countercurse.

“Can I get you anything, Maiesti?” she asks.

You feel your face heat. “You shouldn’t call me that,” you say, a bit aghast. Your voice is rough from disuse. “I’m only Prince Taehyung’s sperasa.”

“You will be Queen soon enough,” she says in that cool, even way of hers. “What can I bring for you?”

You hesitate. “I’m very thirsty,” you admit.

She gives you a quick bow and retreats, and you sink into a chair, a bit dazed. Now that you’re noticed it, the thirst is powerful, and you find it hard to think about anything else.

Satuel doesn’t leave you suffering for long. She returns with a cart full of options - pitchers, Prey, and various pastries that must be blood-food.

You choose the pouches, the Prey, since they relieve both the thirst and the tingling need to bite. Though, you notice absently, the tingling isn’t so bad today.

While you drink, Satuel catches you up on what you’ve missed - the former King’s guilty verdict, Seokjin’s father’s trial underway, Taehyung’s own trial impending. Word that Namjoon made it back, that he’s doing fine settling back into his old life. That Taehyung has been here every day, helping you adjust, in between meetings with his new cabinet.

“Maiesti will be pleased to see you feeling more like yourself,” she notes.

“Do you think he’ll be long?” you ask, a bit wistfully.

Satuel gives you a knowing smile. “I think if I tell him you’re awake - really awake - he’ll leave his cabinet mid-meeting to come dote on you.”

You flush.

“Should I inform him?” Satuel asks, almost teasingly.

You wonder if, somehow, she has ended up as your friend.

You hesitate. “Could I… go see him? I’d really like a walk.”

You clean up before you go, and you’re pleased to find that you remember your way through the palace from these new rooms. It’s startling to walk down the corridor - your gait is awkward, your legs wanting to go faster than your brain thinks they can. But, of course, your brain is wrong - it needs time to catch up to what your body can do now.

You pause at the door of Taehyung’s meeting room, listening.

“I just think,” Seokjin is saying, somewhat hotly, “that there needs to be some weighting to the representation. The great houses should have more say than the lesser houses. We’re the ones here doing the work, we’re the ones here solving problems. The lesser houses can have a representative, but court families should have more.”

“I disagree,” someone else says, their tone carefully polite. “Beginning this new venture with an imbalance of power will only invite trouble. The lesser houses will be resentful from the beginning. It could brew into conflict. We don’t want to replace one monarch with a group of monarchs. Your Majesty, you wanted equality across Infracticus - that means you must start with equal.”

“You both make valid points,” Taehyung muses. “How do we decide? Should we vote?”

You step into the room. A few cabinet members look up, eyes widening. Another does a double take, at first deeming you unimportant and then looking again when they register who you are.

Taehyung lets out a noise like a laugh, a smile breaking across his face. “My love!” he cries. “You’re well?”

“I know my name today,” you tell him. “So that’s something, right?”

He starts to push his chair back, but you raise a hand to stop him. He halts mid-motion, clearly confused.

“What if you appointed representation by breaking up the land instead of by house?” you suggest, jumping uninvited into the conversation you’d interrupted. “I’ve seen it done that way above - it works, more or less. Then it doesn’t boil down to do the Runes get one or two, it would simply be that the Runes living in a designated area have the same representative as anyone else who lives there, too.”

Taehyung’s smile, if possible, triples in size. He finishes standing, pushing his chair away. He points at Seokjin mirthfully. “Discuss this suggestion in my absence,” he commands. “My Queen requires my attention now.”

Out in the hall, he sweeps you into a hug, swinging you in a circle. You laugh, slapping half-heartedly at him until he sets you down.

“You,” he says, “are the bravest, smartest, most beautiful Queen Infracticus has ever seen.”

“I’m not Queen yet,” you point out.

“We’ll start planning today,” he says, and then falters. “That is… if you want. I didn’t mean to rush you. I just got excited.”

You can’t help but smile, slipping a hand into his. “No,” you say shyly. “I do… want. Should we wait, though - for after your trial?”

He sobers. “Yoongi thinks it’ll be over in a day,” he says quietly, not meeting your gaze now. You squeeze his hand, reminding him that he’s not alone in this. “The Elders will testify that I was cursed… Namjoon is willing to testify as well… some of my guards, who kept me in my rooms…”

“I could, too,” you offer.

He nods, but it doesn’t seem like he’s saying yes. “If it comes to that,” he hedges. “But, like I said, Yoongi doesn’t think it’ll be much of a case. I’ll be relieved when it’s over, either way.” He shoots you a conspiratorial look. “And then, yes, we can start planning our events.”

“Events?” you echo.

“Wedding,” he ticks off on his fingers. “And then we’ll have to have a coronation for you.”

“I’d rather do it all in one go,” you admit. “I don’t like being the center of attention.”

He smiles indulgently at you. “You’ll get used to it,” he says. “If it helps, from now on, it will never just be you in the center, at least not alone. Wherever you go, you’ll always have me.”

And it does. It does help.

—

“Come on!” Taehyung’s voice is boyish, downright gleeful, as you struggle to keep up with his long legs.

“Where are we going?” you call to him, but your voice is lost by a strong ocean breeze, the sound carried away and drowned beneath the cries of the gulls and the crashing of waves.

In truth, you’re going slow on purpose, trying to savor this: the ocean you get to live beside, Taehyung laughing and carefree in a way you’ve never seen before, a sense that you belong right here.

It’s hard to wrap your brain around the truth that you don’t need to savor it, don’t need to make it last - you’ll have more time here than you can imagine.

Then, you recognize the stone steps he’s bounding down. He’s taking you to his stables.

“Potato missed me too much?” you tease, finally catching up. He grins at you in response.

Inside the stable, he tugs you past Potato’s stall, giving her a quick pat on the nose as he goes.

“Ta-da!” he crows, leaning over the wooden door to the stall, peering down into the space below. You follow his gaze and gasp, hands flying to your face.

“Taehyung!” you shriek. “No way!”

“You’ll scare her!” he chides, but he’s laughing, reaching to unlatch the door so you can properly meet the baby amarisca that stands in the stall. Her coat is royal blue, her hooves navy, and her eyes as black as Taehyung’s.

You sit on the ground and let her come to you, trying hard not to squeal and scare her even though you’re absolutely vibrating with excitement.

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” you all but sob, so happy you’re almost incoherent.

“You need to name her,” he points out, sitting down next to you, hay and dirt be damned.

“Noodle,” you say immediately. “Her name is Regency’s Noodle. Taehyung, oh my god!”

You almost lose it again when she presses her nose into your hand, and Taehyung beams, his smile as bright as the sun.

You’ve come a long way in your transition. You can go almost the whole day without drinking, mostly needing one end-of-day “meal” (four or five Prey pouches) to get you through. You’re more steady on your feet, practicing zipping around lightning-quick the way you’ve seen others do. And your magic is stronger, too. You’ve been thinking of asking Taehyung if there’s a more formal way you can train in magic, once things are settled.

There’s a lot still to come. Your wedding, your coronation. And though the cabinet has been hard at work, King Taehyung has yet to announce that he plans to dissolve the monarchy and create a more democratic system in its place. Neither of you - none of the cabinet members - expect the news to go over smoothly.

Whatever happens, you’ll face it together. It helps that Seokjin is so involved, practically Taehyung’s second-in-command.

“When she’s big enough,” Taehyung promises you, “we’ll race to my island. We’ll travel to the ends of Infracticus together - I’ll make sure you see it all. We’ll ride together and see all the places you grew up reading about.”

“And then what?” you ask, half-teasing. You have an eternity to fill, after all.

“Whatever you want,” he promises. “We’ll do whatever you want, My Queen.”

And he slides his hand into yours, where it fits like it belongs.

—

Taehyung’s hand is in yours when he meets with you and the Infracti who will defend him at the trial, Yoongi and Hoseok of Cleave. 

“I was… going to keep this to myself,” he admits, shoulders rounded with shame. “But I need to know that I truly answered for what I did. And I can’t do that if you only know part of the truth.”

Yoongi looks at you, like you might have some answers. You do not. 

Taehyung wilts just slightly more. He glances sideways at you. “My love,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Maiesti,” Yoongi says, voice low with warning. He trails off. 

Taehyung fiddles with the rings on his fingers, unable to look anyone in the eye. “The whole truth,” he says, so quiet that you and Yoongi both lean closer to hear him, “is that the curse… it wasn’t what I intended - something went wrong -”

“What happened, Taehyung?” you ask, knowing it when you see him start to spiral into half-thoughts. 

He braces himself, and then tells you both what happened five nights before you’d arrived.

Before you came to Infracticus, Taehyung had spent an entire night in the deepest archives the palace held. He had thrummed with energy and desperation, as if stopping his father’s actions faster could also undo them. As if finding a solution quickly could absolve him, earn forgiveness.

He’d slapped a palm over the page when he found what he was looking for, after hours of searching, reading for so long that his eyes watered and begged to close.

A curse. A curse that would end his immortality, give him a human lifespan.

“If I die young, without an heir,” he had argued with absolutely no one, his voice echoing in the empty, stone room, “then the crown cannot pass on. After my father, it goes to no one.”

It didn’t solve the problem now, he knew. It meant Sunjae would continue to rule unchecked. But someday. Someday, Taehyung would die, and then Sunjae would die, and then the crown would be free.

He’d rest easier knowing that even if every plan he thought up eventually failed, at least Sunjae would be the last. Taehyung would spend however many years he got trying to stop him, and if nothing worked then at least he could die knowing that after Sunjae, it would end. The monarchy would cease to exist. Something better could rise from its ashes. It had to.

He had stood and pulled the book closer to the edge of the table so he could see it clearly and began borrowing, pulling magic from the world around him. He’d end his immortality, he’d kill his immortal self. For his people. For Infracticus.

“I am Taehyung of Rune, Prince of Infracticus,” he had told the empty room. He would bring his father down. He would end his house’s rule. “But perhaps I can be of Ruin, too.”

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thank you so much for being here!! i hope you enjoyed this crazy world as much as i did. may scuttlebug tae live on forever in our hearts :')

[ichxraaa]

the little things ft. nanase haruka

⤷ sometimes haru can´t help but wonder f you wud be better with someone else, someone... less boring.

⊱♥︎ is the free! fandom as dead as a ghost town? probably, do i care? not at all, i have been watching the last season and this little thing came up, i have many feelings about haruka nanase.

Haruka wouldn’t necessarily call himself boring, but if put side by side with his friends he could. He doesn’t have Asahi’s boldness, or Nagisa’s bubbliness, or Kisumi’s way of making anyone feel welcome, much less Rin’s ease to break the ice stating that even while having a girl’s name he is a boy, and of course he is far from having Makoto’s wit to start a conversation with any topic. 

And after the first awkward stage of your relationship breaks, the one from the first 3 months give or take he begins to worry about it in a way he simply didn’t care about before. 

He finds it odd, new. The past year he has been so confused and then hesitant to take your friendship from just that to a relationship that he never really thought how things would be once you were together. 

And it’s been bothering ever since he accidentally heard a conversation you had with a friend last week when he went to pick you up from the library. 

“…But seriously, what do you two even talk about?” She laughs, and you laugh with her. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say more than three words together”.

“You just haven’t been lucky then, but don’t worry about me, Haru is plenty interesting even when he is quiet”.

And your answer eases him, and yet he can’t help but be bugged about it in an intrusive way that shows up even when he is trying to eat. 

Right now you’re lying next to him. Your feet are on his lap and his are next to your hips. Sitting on opposing sides of the couch you’re both reading. He can see you’re really focused by the way your brows have furrowed. 

Is this really what you’d like to be doing right now? It is Friday night and even if he has practice tomorrow morning, you don’t. 

“Do you wanna do something else tonight?”

“Mmm?” Your eyes lift from the page with a curious look headed his way. There’s always something in the way you look at him, so openly and intensely yet kind and soft that has him nearly blushing.

“I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go out or something…”

You smile, hand reaching for his calves and softly massaging the hard muscle. “Not really, do you want to go out?”.

“Not really”.

You laugh and put your book down on the floor while snuggling into the armrest. He inadvertently moves to give you room to accommodate yourself.

“Do you wanna watch a bad movie and order take out?” You ask.

Haru smiles, softly and  nearly missable from the untrained eye. 

Sometimes Haru worries you’re gonna get bored of him, he frequently quotes his grandma as a source of wisdom, he eats nearly the same stuff every day and he is obsessed with water. 

If only he knew those same particularities are such a big part of why you fell in love so quickly, why you went to bed dreaming of the day where you would be bold enough to tell him how you felt. Except he had beat you to it.

Sometimes he worries you’re gonna get bored of him, but fortunately right now his biggest concern is what kind of mackerel dish he’s gonna get for dinner.

[itskattkm]

The air in my lungs

Chapter 8

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A stroke of fate changes you and leads you into the arms of Cairo Sweet. Will she be your downfall or save you?

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, Grief, Injuries, Smoking, Trauma, anxiety, sexual content, student x teacher mentioned, harm, blackmailing, bad grammar

A/N: for my Cairo lovers. I’m sorry for not updating so long. Much is planned and the fic will be long! I wanted this chapter to be longer but since a few asked for new updates her it is my dears🧡 I’m having some days off now and hope to get some new chapters done. Have fun.

Masterlist | previous chapter | Next chapter

The pressure of the dash was massaging your back when you sat in the whirlpool with closed eyes and your head leaned back resting on the edge. When you entered the pool house you didn’t saw the whirlpool immediately, only when Cairo showed it to you. It was actually right beside the pool, in a corner and covered by many of plants. “You like plants and the color green right?” You asked. They were so beautiful and you wished you would now what they all were called.

Cairo was right by your side and watched you inspecting the plants “I do… I also like bugs, beetles and spiders” you laughed and sighed looking at her “spiders?” Cairo nodded and shrugged her shoulders saying “yeah…”. You grinned wide and shook your head. This made Cairo curious “are you afraid of spiders?” She asked teasing. You looked serious at her but your eyes were still showing the joy you felt “I hate them… but somehow they love me. I could call myself spider man… or well spider woman” this made Cairo laugh.

You sat up and turned towards her “I’m serious! They follow me everywhere and I find them in the craziest places without even trying. It’s like an instinct. I look into a direction? Boom there’s a spider… the house is empty? My bedroom is their hotspot… even my car. I once jumped out of my car while trying to drive, because of a spider”

Cairos eyes widened and she tried to hold her laugh back “seriously?” You smirked and nodded “I was about to shift the gear to start driving. But a spider was sitting on the gear lever and then I just jumped out… making the car choke off” Cairo looked at you speechless wich made yourself giggle when you leaned back beside her.

“I already found three different spiders on those leafs” you said and pointed out with your finger into one direction. Cairo furrowed her brows and turned to look into that direction. And there she was. A Yellow garden ball weaver spider. Cairo was impressed. “Well… I love them” she said teasing and looked at you. You grinned “so my instinct maybe brought me right into your arms then? Or your attracted by my presence like the spiders”

She smiled wide and watched the spider crawling away “but why do you like them? And what’s about the color green? I see it everywhere. I know you have a green bag pack… headphones but this mansion? It’s like you’re living that color out…” you said curious and looked softly at her.

“Well green stands for things like harmony, stability, hope and nature in general… It always makes me feel relaxed and calm. Green is a color that is often underestimated. A lot of people always go for the colors red and blue when it comes to things like logos or colors of clothes. But green is a color that people don't think about much, and I like that. It's a nice and relaxing color. It just makes me feel so calm when I see it now. It's just that simple!"

Y/n nodded and said in a calm tone “it really is underestimated. Did you know that our human eyes see 50% green, blue 25% and red 25%?”

This made Cairo smile and chuckle slight. She nodded and appreciated the fact that you showed interest and tried to have a conversation about her interests.

“And the spiders?” You asked again while putting your hand on her thigh.

“They make me feel safe. They make me feel like I can relate to them. When people see spiders.. they are always scared and they always try to kill them or stay away from them. But when I see a spider I feel like I can trust it. Because I am the same way. I am a mysterious type of creature that people want to destroy." You looked at her with pure admiration and smiled about that comparison.

“I won’t kill you… I promise” you said a bit joking while moving your thumb in circles on her knee. The corners of her mouth quirked up, leaning in slowly “I really appreciate that”. Turning towards each other. The warmth of the water making your body feel so relaxed and comfortable in the moment.

Cairos body came closer and closer, you could feel her presence getting intensive. Her eyes were switching between your eyes and lips till they just remained at your lips. You were moistening your lips unintentionally, felling the heat coming from her body when she sat down in your lap. Her hands moving slowly and smooth on your shoulders just to hold your neck. Stunned. that was your reaction to that. You couldn’t even react properly cause in the next moment you felt Cairo pulling your hair so you would lean your head back, you did and her lips met yours. Fierce she made you almost gasp for air with the amount of passion she was using. It didn’t took her long to explore your mouth with her tongue and a soft moan escaped you.

Your hands rested on her hips. Pulling her closer, feeling a pulsing between your legs. Your body’s merged and you could smell the scent of vanilla, coffee and burned wood wich hit your nerves.

Lips found their place on Cairos pulse. You inhaled deeply, brushing her cold and soft skin with them. You were trembling. Her scent making you fall into a haze where nothing else mattered anymore. Just her.

Cairo felt your wet lips on her pulse, a shiver went down her spine, making her grind on your lap slowly. Breathing heavy you felt like something was missing. She reached out for your jaw and held it tight in her hand. You could see a flicker in her dark eyes, showing you the lust she was feeling. You felt so intimidated by her that you almost felt dysfunctional.

Still holding your jaw in her hand, she kissed you hard. Her saliva moistening both your lips before she bit into your lower lip. Quite sounds were leaving you, making you feel like you could explode by every touch. Her hand moving down your chest, going their way through your breast and resting on your stomach. She was caressing your body, moving herself as close to you as possible while her hips kept moving into your lap.

Your face was still held by her with the other hand. It was interesting how she was taking out all the air of your lungs but also managed to keep you breathing. Cairo was holding the band of your underwear and pulled slight on it wich made you twitch. She smiled seductive, feeling good about the fact how she made you react. “Relax…” she whispered into your ear before placing her lips onto your pulse, feeling your heart rate going up. Your head fell into the back of your neck and Cairo began to move her lips along your throat.

Soon both your bikinis were lying on the floor somewhere near the whirlpool. Cairos body rocking into your thigh while her hand began to explore you in a more private place. You were breathing heavy, feeling so much pleasure that your mind couldn’t handle it. It kept shutting down just to come back with a need of more.

“Cairo…” you whispered heavy when she bit slight into your neck. Satisfied Cairo licked along your pulse before penetrating you with the full length of her two fingers. It made you tremble slightly, you felt your walls get tight around her fingers wich made it hard for you to stay quiet. “I Wanne hear you say my name…” she whispered luring and moved her fingers slowly out “again…” they moved back in “and again” then she angled her fingers which made you moan.

She smirked satisfied and gave your lips a light bite before going deeper wich made your jaw turn stiff and you only manage to say her name with a breaking voice. Cairos grin turned wider and she kissed you hard, her tongue getting lost in your mouth before she whispered teasing “what? Can’t you handle me?”. Your head fell back again and a brief “fuck…” escaped the back of your throat. Cairo making you curse already. Then her movements became faster and you could feel her eyes watching every reaction she could get from you while placing open mouth kisses along your jaw and neck. Tasting your skin with her tongue.

Like this wasn’t already killing you, she kept grinding on your tight. You couldn’t really feel her wetness due the water but you felt her clit moving over your skin again and again which made you even more turned on.

“You’re killing… me…my dear” you panted which made her smile almost evil before she moved her fingers even deeper. Her knuckles touching your cunt. You arched your back, craving for more. Cairo felt you getting tighter around her fingers, she began to move in a slow pace now, turning her fingers while doing so. You felt your clit throbbing, getting so tight it was almost too much. Sitting up you pulled your hand around Cairos neck kissing her deeper almost in a starving way. You were breathing heavy like you were taking a long run. Your heart was pumping so much blood through your body you felt like you couldn’t breathe. That’s what she made you feel like. You moistened your lips brushing them over the skin you could reach above the water. The effect Cairo Sweet had on you was crashing down on you like hard rain. No matter how hard you tried to keep your defenses up, keep those feelings deep inside of you away and hidden… she managed to get them all out. You had no control. One moment you felt nervous and shy, the next you forgot about it all and became a pool of desire and longing. This woman was your weakness and you were sure she could bring out things of you… you wouldn’t recognize yourself.

[ruhorih4ra]

Hi (⁠•⁠ө⁠•⁠)⁠♡

This chapter contains a little bit of smut but not really, I mean it's suggestive but nothing more than that.

I hope you remember chapter one because that's exactly where we are now hehe.

Get out of my way 🌈

“No, my Lord, you’re not.” Mephistopheles was quick to put distance in between, urging you to Diavolo’s side. You didn’t miss the subtle hint to watch the folder in your hands. “Hey, Mephisto wait!” You offered resistance to the demon’s strength to no avail, he pushed Lord Diavolo and you out of his office. That was so unusually bold that you couldn’t give faith to your own eyes, even the prince lost his stern expression.

Mephistopheles was flustered, he felt completely embarrassed without fully knowing why, you two weren’t doing anything wrong, in fact, you were just talking. Was it the possibility that Diavolo had heard his pathetic confession? It must be. He refused to believe that all this shame was because he had seen your soul, and for a moment he had wanted to keep it, not to own it but to protect it.

Did he push Lord Diavolo out of his office? The poor demon sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. At least you had agreed to help him.

You never said you’d help him. Mephistopheles vile demon who took advantage of the special bonding moment you were having. Now, walking hand in hand with the next ruler of the Devildom, you wondered why demons had to be so bossy. “Lord Diavolo.”

“Call me Diavolo, please. I won’t acknowledge you otherwise.” The prince spoke, his voice hadn’t returned to his usual playful tone. “Where are we going?” The curious glances of the other students were nothing discreet and it was starting to get annoying but Diavolo couldn’t care less. “To my office, of course. You want to talk to me about that proposal, right? Mephisto told me you would meet me but I got impatient.”

As soon as you entered his office, he offered you a chair, the one in front of his desk. Just an hour ago you’d been sleeping and now you were facing a very passive-aggressive lord of the Devildom. You took a seat and discreetly tried to look inside the folder. “Very well, Mc. What is it that you desire?” That choice of words made you laugh, same laugh that died when you saw Diavolo’s seriousness. “I- uhm. I uh, I want something… something very fair and… necessary.” Diavolo’s hand approached you with an open palm. “Let me see it, please.”

You handed him the folder, hoping that whatever was inside was something reasonable. “Here, lord Diavolo.” A quick glance into the prince’s cold eyes made you swallow and correct yourself. “I mean my lor- No! My Diav- uh no, ah here, Diavolo.”

Diavolo had to suppress the laughter and warmth that arose inside of him. He didn’t want to act as if he was angry, but if he needs to use his status to have a chance for forgiveness, well, he will. He opened the folder and this time his emotions couldn’t be suppressed.

A face of pure surprise blossomed. “You want to nominate Mephisto to be president of the Newspaper Club again?” Lord Diavolo asked with a mix of amusement and disbelief, he wasn’t naive, he knew his friend was taking advantage of the poor human who was too kind to refuse. What he didn’t expect was for you to be completely unaware of the former president’s intentions.

“Fuck you Mephisto, you pedantic demon better watch out because I will hunt you down.” A series of similar threats swam in your mind. A remarkable contrast to the smile you showed on the outside. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”

“You don’t have to do this, Mc. Mephisto won’t harm you, I wouldn’t let him. You can always count on-” Diavolo had to stop mid-sentence, you were looking at him as if he had betrayed you, he hadn’t forgotten that first time your eyes called him a “liar” and now they were practically screaming at him to shut up. “First of all, Mephisto would never harm me and that’s not because of you but because he is an amazingly kind demon.” You remembered how he offered his help even though he didn’t know what was going on, how worried he was when you burned your hands, and how thoughtful he had been to ask Simeon for an ointment beforehand, sure, that could certainly be normal and decent behavior but what about those times you woke up on his sofa covered with a blanket while he worked. “Secondly, I’m doing this because I want to.” That was a lie, but now that Diavolo had somehow offended Mephisto, you were angry.

“Because I have been working with him and he has been nothing but efficient, kind and diligent.” You stood up, saying all the good qualities you had observed, using exaggerated theatrics. “Would it be so impossible? You always do what you want! Why can’t you just accept this?” Lord Diavolo could feel an unpleasant feeling in his stomach, the seed of jealousy blooming quickly under the light of your affection towards yet another demon that wasn’t him.

“He made those disrespectful stickers of Lucifer and I.” He tried to sound severe even though he couldn’t get mad at Mephisto for such a harmless prank. “You love them! You always use them!” you replied. Diavolo really like those stickers, he enjoys Lucifer’s reaction every time he uses them. His face must have betrayed him because the eyes of the human in front of him shone triumphantly.

He was losing his tough guy facade, once that you saw the first cracks it was over for him. “Please Diavolo, please! I won’t ask anything else!” You walked towards him but before you could move any further he was already standing, fixing his coat. “I should talk with Lucifer first.”

“I’m sure he won’t be angry if you take this decision on your own, Diavolo.” You took his arm with an innocent, pleading face that even the most naive demon could recognize. Diavolo recognized it for sure but found it too adorable to get mad. “Well, we may have different perceptions of our dear, prideful friend.” Diavolo smiled.

You looked at Diavolo, and a single question appeared in your mind “Why was he so impatient to see me?” There was a time when you thought that the prince holds you dear, but that was before Sc. Why did Mephisto think sending you was a good idea when Diavolo clearly only think of you as a responsibility. Maybe what he wanted was for you to persuade the brothers and show their support until neither Lucifer nor the prince could reject it.

That was the only explanation because how could the prince ever see you with different eyes? A ruler and his subject, the one subject he had to protect to ensure the future of his dream.

“Come on, Mc. Don’t put that face.” Diavolo cupped your face, his hand softly caressed your cheek. “Is this really so important to you?” The room was silent, nothing but the soft creaking of the fireplace. You nodded and started pouting unintentionally. “But if you don’t want to, I understand. I’ll tell Mephisto that you’ll reconsider it later.” You said, removing the demon’s hand from your face. “You should discuss this with him.”

“Of course, I understand.” Diavolo felt his heart clenching, you looked so devastated that he was making a real effort to maintain his negative. “Please, don’t leave yet, can I offer you one of Barbato’s desserts?”

“I must decline your invitation, it wouldn’t be considerate of me to keep Mephistopheles waiting.” You turned around, leaving the prince speechless with your sudden harsh tone. “Wait, Mc. If you’re busy now, would you accompany me tomorrow?” Diavolo’s facade was completely gone, his voice adopted a desperate tone.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I have time.” You opened the door but it was immediately closed again by Diavolo’s hand. “Not even for the prince of the Devildom himself?” You heard him too close to your ear, but you didn’t turn around. “The prince of the Devildom should take care of his kingdom instead of wasting time drinking tea with me.”

A few moments of uncertainty passed before he murmured. “You are in the devildom, you’re part of it and it’s my responsibil-” you turned around and pushed him away. “Stop! Would you please stop calling me a responsibility? I don’t want to be one!” you pushed him away again, this time born out of anger. “Do I bother you!? You don’t need to call me, you don’t need to endure my talks. I’m certainly not asking for it! I can be the exchange student you want without these tedious meetings!” To Diavolo, you had always been a mystery, unpredictable above all the things he could use to describe you. This reaction of yours is unusual but he could see where your anger is coming from and he felt like a fool for not seeing it sooner.

“You know that is my role as the future king but I could never find you unpleasant, I would never consider you a nuisance.” His voice was tender. “Do you find me tedious, Mc?” he asked, closing the distance between the two again. “Because if you do, and don’t tell Barbatos I said this, I wouldn’t mind if you take me as a responsibility, as long as you take me.” The prince caged you against the door, his eyes never leaving yours. “Will you, Mc?”

Was it you or the room was hotter than before? And what was that? Was it music? A soft ballad played in the background. “Diavolo?” You stuttered, avoiding his eyes and finding that his office had suddenly become darker, slightly illuminated by a few candles. “Yes, Mc?” He was getting dangerously close, his sweet scent seemed to fill the room.

“Is this your doing?” The question never left your mouth because it wasn’t important, you had to get out of that place as soon as possible before things got out of control.

“Reject this document so I can leave.” You answered but your voice faltered, the closeness with the demon was inviting. Diavolo smiled, softly tracing circles on your neck with his fingertips. “Is that what you want?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice anymore. He took the folder and walked towards the desk. “Will you leave if I reject it?” He took off his coat and loosened his tie before searching for the seal. “I will.” You said. He found the wooden seal, it shone with the little flame of the nearest candle. You moved closer, immediately winning the attention of Diavolo, who seemed mesmerized. “But if you accept it, I could stay.”

Diavolo stopped with the seal millimeters away from the paper, how the tables have turned, now demons are tempted by humans. The music was low compared to the beating of your heart, in that dark office Diavolo’s eyes looked like another pair of candles and how alluring they were. Your heart skipped a beat when he sealed the paper, disappointment quickly covered you completely when you understood what that meant.

You turned around with more anger than disappointment ready to leave. However, he caught up with you instantly and you felt the pressure of his chest on your back and an arm holding your hips while he showed you the paper, speaking in your right ear. “I can excuse almost anything from you, Mc. I can accept your continuous rejection of my invitations. I can overlook your abuse of power and shameless bribery.” He laughed, his breath gave you goosebumps. “I can even ignore my own butler hiding things from me in favor of you.” You tensed, knowing what those words meant. “But to think you would run away from me to comfort another demon? I don’t know if I can allow that.” He held in his hand the proposition sealed with a big, colorful “APPROVED”.

“So, you’ll stay here, right?” He forced you to turn around, caging you against the wall and leaning closer until your forehead touched his. Who does he think he is? Being the prince of the devildom doesn’t give him the right to do as he pleases. Oh, he started kissing you. His eyes were closed and his hair was messy, but he looked charming. But let’s not forget that he called you a responsibility! One of his hands traveled to your back, making a path from the first to the last vertebra. Well, everyone makes mistakes. Besides, he IS the next ruler of the Devildom, he needs to be responsible, it’s just his work really. But he made Mephisto feel replaced and Mephisto is your friend! Diavolo lifted you with both arms, squeezing your thighs. He didn’t break the kiss, sighs slipping between kisses as he put you on his desk. Well, maybe Mephisto wasn’t that much of a friend. Let’s be real, you had been talking for what? A month? BUT! HE’S HELPING YOU!

Diavolo started kissing your neck, standing between your legs and keeping your hands glued to the wooden surface as he pressed your bodies together. Yes, Mephisto was helping you, but he also wanted something in exchange, and you had been working really hard, so a little treat won’t do you any harm. Yo can give in, just a little.

“You called me a liar.” Diavolo’s voice was desperate as he kissed every inch of your body. “Your eyes were so cold.” As desperate as he sounded, his words contained pain too, the kind of grief you can’t hide. You kissed him on the lips, one hand in his hair while the other clung to his back. “Mc, tell me that you didn’t mean it.”

*Munch munch* “I didn’t mea...” *Nom, nom, nom.* “Shhhh!! This is getting good, shut up!!”

“I didn’t mean…”

What?

You broke the kiss, trying to regain clarity, looking first at Diavolo, who looked at you with so much adoration that you almost got caught up again. Almost. “What did you say?”

“Tell me you didn’t mean it?” “No, not that, after that.” He shook his head and kissed your chin. “I didn’t say anything, dearest.” “AwWw! How romantic!” You moved so fast that Lord Diavolo found himself kissing empty space. “Mc?”

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room came from the Little D. of Gluttony, who was eating popcorn out of a carnival vase. “What’s wrong dear? Don’t keep the prince waiting!” Sticking out of the hat, two pointed horns shone with neon pink light that reminded you of Asmodeus. Slowly, you connected the dots until realization came like a bucket of cold water.

The Little. D of Lust appeared because you… “NO! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” you pushed Diavolo aside, he didn’t put up any resistance but his face changed from curious to worried in no time. “This is unfair! You shouldn’t be here!” you screamed to the Little D.’s

The Little D. of Lust snapped his fingers and the office turned back to normal. The light was on instead of the darkness and candles from before. The place smelled like books, paper and leather, nothing close to the perfume of flowers and music that filled the room just few moments ago. “What are you talking about, Mc?” Diavolo grabbed your arm, squeezing harder when you didn’t respond.

His eyes looked at the place where you had been screaming, even so, he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Diavolo, stop!” Your hand pushed his face, breaking his concentration and also his grip. “This was a mistake.” You said before leaving.

And that’s the beginning of the end, that’s how everything happened and the reason why you are here now, sitting at a table surrounded by 6 little demons.

“Ah! How nostalgic, we were so little then!” The Little D. of Envy sighed, wiping a non-existent tear. “Yes, you were little.” You looked at Sc again, something about her seemed different, she looked nervous. “I’m tired, do you think I should take a little nap?” If anyone had listened to you, they would have said you sounded defeated. Shameless laughter of the demons around you reached your ears, one by one changed their forms to resemble the brothers. “Sure, human. We will take good care of you.” You just nodded, slowly laying your head on the table. “Close your eyes, Mc.” You heard Lucifer’s voice. “Of course.” You obeyed.

Next chapt? (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Taglist: @yuumaofc @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @exrellian @kaiserkisser @cutestpatoootie @fandumshippr @frenchmess23yo @reject-queen

[futbol16]

All For You  • England Lionesses

Requests: Possible pt 2 to Who’s Loss?? That fic brought me to your page and I absolutely loved it. 

Could we possibly get a pt 2 to see how they get reader to turn her emotions back on and possible apology from everyone who was mean to reader in the first half??

Is there coming a second part to 'Who's loss?', and then the aftermath from the readers brothers death, funeral, etc? And if reader will forgive the team?I thought it was an amazing story

Part 1 Who’s Loss

Word count: 3,9k

Two of the three days the team has after the semi-finals and before the final, are two incredibly long and depressing days for you.

That night after the match you took off towards the hospital, still clad in your England kit and leaving your teammates staring after you as you dashed out of the changing room. Your parents stood above your brother crying into each other’s shoulder when you entered the hospital room, fresh tears acting as a waterfall as they flowed down your cheeks. The shattering wails that bounced off the walls of the corridor had every nurse stopping in their tracks, their own hearts breaking at the sounds. 

Though the pain in your eyes doesn’t vanish, any emotion you had is drained from you once you tire yourself out. You remain emotionless as your family is talked through the cremation process, you know it’s what your brother would have wanted. He has tried to talk to you all about it before but you immediately shut him up in denial of the possibility of losing him. 

You wanted to do what he thought was right for him and you’re thankful to the morticians, as weird as that sounds, when they promise to cremate him as soon as possible.

When you get back to the part of the hotel where the England team is staying in it’s already three in the morning. The ear piercing scream you almost let out when you came face to face with Sarina in the dark hallway of the second floor, would have surely woken up half of Australia. With a hand on your chest you try to get your breathing back to regular as the coach patiently waits, concern written all across her face as she rests a hand on your back.

“Hey coach” you breathe out, scratching your eyebrow. You know you don’t have to explain where you were, why you were late for curfew because she had been the one to get you a driver for the hospital. However, you are much more curious as to why she was up at this hour.

“Are you alright darling?” she speaks with a warmth in her words, one that makes you feel safe and cared for as you nod. 

You know you’re lying, hell, she knows that you’re obviously not telling the truth but there’s an unspoken mutual agreement that she wouldn’t ask too much about it. 

“Look Y/N, I understand if you’d like a few days off to grieve and if it’s what you would need- I think it might be healthier for you to miss the final” 

Once again your breath gets caught in your throat as you press your lips together. You appreciated her want to help and caring so much for her players, recognizing them as humans rather than just employees. And you’re seriously considering locking yourself in your room for the next two weeks and letting yourself get consumed by the agonizing pain of your brother’s passing.

 But you’ve worked too hard to get to this point, those are the words of your brother, something he’d always say when you felt like giving up and you lived by those words. Why quit now when you’ve worked for this your entire life? 

Playing in the world cup and winning it had been a dream of yours that your brother shared, his passion bigger for your sports career than his own career and you weren’t going to bail on him now, not when you already missed his last moments.

“Thank you coach but I’ll be okay to play, I want to play in the final” you tell her in determination and she watches you for a moment, waiting for a sign of hesitation as she herself also contemplates whether that would be a good idea. 

“Okay then, I believe in you” she rubs your shoulder as you thank her, lips pulled into a straight line as her expression turns into one of sympathy. “I’m really sorry about your brother, I know how much he meant to you” 

You nod again and Sarina is rather taken aback by the stoic look you’re wearing, almost as if you’ve totally forgotten about the emotional rollercoaster of a day you’ve had and the loss of your big brother. She doesn’t pry though as she lets you go with a final ‘get some rest, you can miss first practice tomorrow’.

 You collapse onto your bed in exhaustion, not bothering to move the blanket from under you or changing out of the hoodie and England shorts you’ve still got on. You didn’t care. 

The next day the first time the girls see you is at lunch but you refuse to look any of them in the eye, their words from last evening running through your mind. Your feet carry you to a free spot at one of the tables and you sit down quietly, jaw clenching when you hear someone clearing their throat next to you. 

You had no intention to speak to anyone, much less the people who showed their lack of belief in you. 

“Y/N, listen-” Leah starts only to stop when you clear your own throat and aggressively start cutting the piece of meat on your plate. 

“I’m really sor-” you stab the food with your fork and Lucy and Millie exchange looks over the table.

“About yesterday, I shouldn’t have- I mean we shouldn’t have treated you like that” she finally gets it out and she waits for a response from you.

Only you don’t give one as you raise the fork to your mouth and chew on the plain meat in silence. She sighs softly from next to you and she meets Keira’s worried looks. 

The way you stared into the abyss and slowly chewed on the little food you’ve gotten for yourself was beyond agitating and caused distress for many of your teammates.

“Please eat more than just that” Keira pleads carefully with you and you stop in your chewing for a second. Just as they think you’ll give some kind of reaction, maybe a verbal response, you go back to chewing in silence and their heads drop in defeat.

“Y/N, please” sounds Millie’s voice and you almost meet her eyes but a hand on your back makes you turn to Leah who instantly retracts her hand as you send her a glare. Without another thought you stand up from the table and take your tray over to the wrack and leave the area. 

The blonde stares at the door that closes behind you, her expression laced with sorrow. The girls at the table exhale in unison as they rub at their foreheads, Lucy muttering a ‘fuck’.

“This is all my fault” Leah mumbles helplessly as her eyes well up but Georgia shakes her head.

“No, I’ve said such bad things to her yesterday too. God I was so mean” the young girl admits guiltily.

“Me too”-s are heard throughout the cafeteria and Leah blinks up at the ceiling.

“What do we do?” Lotte’s question is directed at the blonde, Leah knew you best. Perhaps it was why her words hurt more than the others’ even when you knew she just wanted to win. Leah shakes her head though and closes her eyes for a moment.

“I have no idea.” 

Your afternoon gym session with the team is completed in silence on your part as the cold expression remains plastered on your face. You ignore your friends who all try to talk to you, to apologize to you but you pay them no attention as you simply walk past them and continue your workout. 

Mary and Ellie plan to corner you after training but the two goalkeepers find themselves staring at open space near the equipment you were using just a moment ago. 

No one is able to reach you and they’ve got no idea where you’ve disappeared to. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Rachel all but demands as she and the team burst into Sarina’s meeting with the assistant coaches and technical team. Her annoyed expression morphs into understanding as she lowers her hand from the board she’s been pointing at.

“She left girls, she’ll be back before dinner” she informs them calmly and looks at them expectantly, waiting for them to leave. She knows better than to assume her team would be fine with that little information.

“Where? Why?” 

“She has places to be and I suggest you all let her grieve and leave her be. I am rather disappointed in the lack of support you’ve shown to a teammate, a friend of yours regardless of your lack of knowledge about why she was performing poorly in those first 47 minutes.” she sighs in thought and the girls lower their heads. 

“She is okay, as okay as someone can be after what her family and brother have been through. I also want you girls to resolve the rift this has caused in the team dynamics, we can not be going into a world cup final with a team that’s falling apart.” she finishes sternly but the team knows she’s right if they want to win and make things right with you.

It’s late into the evening when you get back to the hotel. You’ve spent your whole afternoon with your family and saying goodbye to your brother. You scattered his ashes in the ocean with a promise whispered into the air as you watched the waves carry him farther from you and closer to his paradise where he would be happy and free of cancer.

Cancer, what a bitch.

After the team’s talk with Sarina the girls got a pretty good idea of what you have been doing after training and this time they don’t bother you, they understand that you don’t want to speak with them. 

If you would have been paying attention at dinner or would have looked up, you would’ve been met with the brooding looks of your friends. But you don’t look up, you shut them out, you don’t hear them and to be honest, you look like a robot as you impassively sit in your seat. 

The next day passes by in a blur as you focus most of your attention on practice and perfecting the on-pitch team chemistry and running through set pieces. In those hours on the football fields, in the gym and team meetings you allow yourself to forget all about your brother’s death. You force yourself to turn that side off, the side of you that wants to break down at just the thought of family and wants to run into your best friend’s arms where you know you’ll feel safe and comforted.

 But you can’t do that either, not when you still felt so betrayed. 

That day the girls try everything to show their care for you in different ways. Whether it’s Alessia and Tooney getting a small smile out of you with their jokes, a smile which you try to hide and act like you haven’t been listening to their conversation. Or it’s Lucy and Beth looking out for you at every corner, an arm passed around your shoulder -when you actually let them- as they babble on about whatever. 

But in those moments you feel like you’re back to your old self, the Y/N before that game against Germany, the Y/N before her favorite person left her all alone. 

You start being more open to the girls again, masking it as being annoyed by their constant nagging about eating more and the countless apologies you’ve heard in the span of just 72 hours. But it’s working and the team is feeling victorious when you actually make eye contact with Keira during breakfast on matchday -1.

Friday is more relaxed despite the pressure of the final that would happen the next day and you’ve got less practice than before, Sarina wanting everyone to be in top shape for tomorrow. 

You’ve got a team bonding during dinner which gradually ends with everyone making a speech. Sarina starts by thanking the team for their efforts and expressing her excitement and determination to win the world cup. The coach is followed by Leah then Lucy, Millie and Mary.

“..and really I’d just like to tell you all how much this team and this country means to me, we’re winning tomorrow!” Mary finishes with a shout and the room erupts in cheers and claps, clearly everyone was hyped about the final. 

You slowly wander over to the ‘stage’ the team has set up, thinking about just what you were going to say. 

“Erm-” you clear your throat nervously, scratching at your neck as you meet Sarina’s eyes who nods encouragingly. “I want to start by saying this has always been a dream for me, not just playing in such a big tournament, but getting to represent England.”

 Leah’s lips quirk up as she remembers the joy you both felt when you were called up at the age of 17. The blonde was studying next to you at your dining table when you got the call and she was the first one to congratulate you, her happy screeching followed by your brother’s as they both pulled you into a bone crushing hug, jumping up and down.

“It is an honor to be here, truly, and to play with such amazing players, some who were my role models growing up.” your eyes linger on Lucy and Jill, who had come to visit the team before their game. “I’d like to thank you girls for all the support, care and love I’ve received throughout the years and the unconditional belief you have in me” you breathe in deeply.

 Despite the words that were harshly screamed in your face during the game against Germany and the betrayal you felt, your team was a second family to you and the ill-feeling you felt towards them the last two days wouldn’t change that.

“I have no doubt in my mind that we’re going to come out victorious tomorrow, we’ve come far and we’re here for a reason” you look over the team with a determined look, the passionate, football obsessed player side of you showing.

“We’ve come farther than last time and we’re here for that trophy. Remember, the English are never done and au revoir to the French tomorrow!” You pump your fist into the air as the girls cheer loudly, your words boosting their confidence in winning the world cup. 

You walk back to your seat, this time doing so with a smile on your face as you watch the reactions of your teammates and friends, the looks in their eyes expressing the love they have for you. 

After the hour long dinner which had turned into three hours, you exit the dining area with a content look on your face as you make your way back towards your room. A hand grasps your arm and you’re pulled back with a yelp. 

You whip around to come face to face with Leah who’s eyes widen and she raises her hands in innocence. You drop your arms when you realize there’s no actual threat and you look at your best friend expectantly, waiting for her to reveal why she’s just manhandled you. The anxious look in Leah’s eyes lets you know what she’s here for and your own eyes soften.

“Y/N/N, I’m really really sorry about what I’ve said during the game against Germany-”

“It’s okay Leah, you’re captain and I wasn’t playing well in a very important match.” you assure her with a pat to her shoulder and she looks at the action in confusion. You never only patted her but now she felt so far from you despite being physically close. You’re not upset with her anymore, but a part of you still felt a sense of resentment.

“No, it’s not okay and I should not have reacted that way, especially as captain” she drops her shoulders and you stare at her as she gathers her thoughts.

“I shouldn’t have treated you like that and I’m so very sorry. If there’s any way I can make it up to you? I just really want my Y/N back.” she confesses tearfully and you can feel your own eyes welling up. 

The beat of silence that follows her question makes Leah rethink everything she’s just said, wondering if the two of you were ever going to be friends again.

“You can make it up to me by winning tomorrow” a wide grin spreads across both your faces as Leah laughs lightly, wiping at her eyes in relief. “But seriously, I forgive you Lee” you bring her into a hug and you melt into the safety of her warmth. Leah closes her eyes as she embraces the moment before she feels her mouth going dry again.

“I’m so sorry about your brother” she mumbles out, her voice laced with empathy and you nod into her shoulder as you blink back the tears that gather in your eyes. 

“I know, me too” her hand moves up and down as she rubs your back wanting to provide as much comfort as she could. 

“He’s very proud of you though, I know that much” she tells you sincerely and you hold on tighter. A moment later you release each other from the death grip you’ve had on her and Leah’s eyes sparkle in thought.

“How about being co-captains?” your eyes almost pop out of their sockets at the suggestion.

“W-what?”

“I’m serious” Leah shrugs “You deserve captaincy” 

“Thank you” you choke out but Leah shakes her head at that.

“You’ve only got yourself to thank Y/N/N, you’re an amazing player and I’m happy I get to play alongside you.” 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as England and France take the field and the anthems are sung passionately by the teams and the people in the stadium. You chew on your gum nervously as kick off happens at exactly 12:00.

Your belief in the girls is strong and their belief in you is even stronger and with all of your focus only on the game and the promise you made to your big brother, England start off strong. 

32 minutes into the game when you receive the ball from Nikita you don’t rush as you scan the area. With your long possession of the ball three French players move in on you and with the freed up space you make the pass to Chloe who toes the ball over the goal line. The cheering of the fans deafens you for a second as the two of you run towards each other in celebration, soon joined by the rest of the team. 

England’s lead lasts far longer than the French would like but they manage to equalize in the 55th minute. Despite the conceded goal team spirits are still high and determined looks are exchanged amongst your team. 

The fight for the ball is close to deadly, harsh shoves from both sides, trash talking players and tackles. England have had many close chances on goal but Pauline pushes the ball away before any of the shots could get closer to the goal post. Frustration is evident on everyone’s faces but as you look up into the stands and spot someone, you know you’ve got to give it your all. 

With frustration comes aggression and when Georgia is fouled in the 78th minute, England knows this is their chance to take the lead again. The young brunette breathes in deeply as she analyzes the goalkeeper’s movements. When the whistle is blown she knows exactly where she wants her shot to go and she strikes it perfectly. 

The fans watch in awe as it passes under the goalkeeper who dived, the ball staying centered. It’s an amazing goal to help your team and Georgia knows as she pounces on the team.

In minute 93, due to added injury time, Leah and Alex are caging in Delphine Cascarin. The player moves towards the penalty area and as she loses control of the ball Leah is quick to nudge it out of the French player’s reach. Lucy rolls it over to her other foot as the opposition advances and she sends it through Renard’s legs and over to you. With both teams piled on your side of the pitch you make a quick move and cut through the rest of the players.

 You know this is your moment, you know it’s your chance to live up to your promise and you know you’ve got to get this, for him. 

No French player can match your speed as you dive down the length of the field, controlling the ball as you sprint with the flow of the light breeze that passes through the stadium.

You can feel his presence, encouraging you to take on the goalkeeper as you reach the penalty box. The goalkeeper has stepped off her line wanting to stop you from getting closer and you move right, herself following.

 There’s a split second where you both think she’s gotten the ball from you but then you fake left and she trips in her haste of scrambling towards where she thought she’d be met with the ball. Without much effort you send the ball into the top right corner of the goal, close enough to the area that there was no way you could’ve missed. 

Your celebration means many things as you hold up three fingers on your left hand and one on your right. It’s showing the scoresheet, 3-1 to England, it’s also the copy of your jersey number, a rather interesting number 31. But most importantly, it had been your brother’s favorite number, a unique lucky number. It was in honor of him that you had it as your jersey number too.

 Your gaze remains on the sky as your teammates pile on top of you, screaming and shaking each other in ecstasy and you let the tears slip from your eyes.

“That was for you big bro, all for you” your whisper is inaudible, you can’t even hear yourself over the crowd in the stadium and your own teammates as you smile at the sky. 

Relief washes over you as you turn to your teammates and jump on them, holding onto Leah’s shoulders later when you’re given the trophy. England win the World Cup for the first time since 1966, all the doings of you and your team. 

That’s right, they were your team, they were your teammates, your family. They were your everything and you know your brother is smiling down at you proudly as the girls pass the trophy around.

[captainpulisic]

i hate accidents! - c. pulisic

happy 25th birthday to my number one boy. again, this is for my girlies who go against gender norms and can’t cook!

gif credits to owner , wc: 1.8 k

flour. sugar. eggs. milk. butter. flour. sugar. eggs. milk. butter, you kept repeating the ingredients to yourself, making sure you had enough of each one. flour. sugar. eggs. milk. butter. oh- and cocoa powder. don’t forget the cocoa powder.

“oh, y/n.” your best friend leaned against her refrigerator, looking at you with weary eyes. she half heartedly gestured at the mess of ingredients you had laid across her kitchen counters. “why are you even doing this?”

her roomate chimed in from the next room where she was watching some movie, “yeah, we know cooking isn’t exactly your expertise.”

of course, they knew. everyone knew. you were self aware, you knew it better than anyone else. but this wasn’t cooking. it was baking. it was baking a birthday cake for christian so maybe this would prove easier than cooking?

you were going to bake it with love and whatever other bullshit people said, so this had to come out right, right?

“you know what you should do?” your friend was suddenly very serious. she took a step closer to you and fake whispered, “go get a store-bought cake that comes all prettily decorated. you just put it on a plate at home, put some candles and ta-da! it’s a beautiful homemade cake you made.”

you deadpanned, “are you being serious right now?”

“of course,” she waved you off. “i’ve done it plenty of times, people always fall for it.”

taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and point towards the door. “get out.”

“but this is my kitchen!” she half laughs, half protest.

“I know, I know,” you shake your head as you push her out of the room. giving her one last grateful smile as you shut the door, “and I really do appreciate you letting me borrow it but I seriously need to focus on this.”

yes, you had to find refuge in a different kitchen, no longer allowed in your own. after another cooking disaster, christian and yourself (mostly him) decided it was best to keep your time in the kitchen to a minimum.

“there’s only so many pots in the country,” he had teased as he tried scraping off the char. what? no one had told you making pancakes could be so hard!

it worked better for you, anyway. away from his prying eyes, you’d had free reign to practice all week long. you’re sure he’s grown suspicious of why you left every day for a few hours and came back smelling like you’d bathed in a tub of vanilla extract (you had spilled some on your clothes too many times to count). just yesterday, he had stopped you in the hallway and wiped some flour from your hair. when you saw him give you a curious glance, you leaned in to kiss him and led him straight to your bedroom. predictably, no questions had been asked after that.

with his strict diet and tough self discipline, christian didn’t indulge in sweets as often as would like. he stuck through rigorous training and healthy eating habits expected of him. his birthday cake was one of the few times of the year he let himself enjoy a sugary overload. therefore, you knew you couldn’t fuck this up for him. you had spent weeks scouring the internet for recipes and consulting with his mom on baking tips.

since his birthday fell on a monday this year, you’d planned to go out and celebrate with friends on the weekend. today was reserved for just the both of you. while he had a few hours of training, you were going to take advantage of the time to overcome the impossible and successfully bake an edible cake.

well, I have to start at some point, you chewed on your cheek. triple checking you had all the correct ingredients and measuring cups, your nerves got the best of you as you figured it was time to start.

you had settled on a simple chocolate cake- well the recipe seemed simple enough- and knowing of christians love for chocolate. hell bent on succeeding, you followed the instructions exactly as they were written and measured everything to the exact tablespoon.

all was going smoothly until it was time to add the designated two cups of sugar into the growing mixture. you hadn’t noticed you’d used up all your sugar during your trial runs. the recipe said not to stop stirring the batter, in fear that it would mess up the consistency. thus, you absentmindedly ventured into the cupboards in search of any sugar.

keeping your attention on stirring the batter, you reached for the unlabeled container of white grains?

aha! sugar!

once the batter was finished, you slathered the pan with butter and stuck it in the oven. moving onto making the chocolate buttercream frosting, you sprinkled more sugar from the container into it.

all too soon, the oven beeped and you rushed to take it out. surprisingly, it looked soft and spongy and like an actual, real cake. now more excited than ever, you covered it in the chocolate icing, trying to make it look as pretty as you could.

(the self restraint you had to not dip your finger into the bowl should be studied, truly.)

after thank yous and goodbyes and congratulations that you created something edible were said, you rushed back home in hopes of beating christian. making sure the house was still empty, you carefully take the cake out of the container and arrange it prettily on the counter. sticking a few candles into it, all there is left to do is wait for the birthday boy to come home.

soon enough, you hear the front door open and his footsteps advancing. he’s always had the knack of looking for you, of easily finding you. before you know it, his hands are on your hips and you feel soft lip brushes on your neck. it’s barely a mummer, “hey, you.”

“hey, birthday boy.” you turn around to face him. you cup his face, as he looks down at you fondly. his lovesick smile mirrors yours. it’s useless finding the urge to kiss him silly, thus you satiate yourself. rising to your tiptoes, your hands find themselves combing through his hair as your lips meet his. pulling away after a few moments, you can’t help but laugh when you see him try to follow you. you settle with leaving a trail of kisses all over his face and working your way down to his neck.

hearing him let out a content sigh, you find yourself settling your arms around his waist. mumbling into the crook of his neck, “you’re old.”

when he pouts and argues that he’s young, you retaliate and insist he’s reached grandpa status. this causes him to prove to you how young he is, by chasing you throughout the house. passing hallways and turning corners, the chase leads you both to the kitchen. where low and behold, a pretty chocolate cake sits with candles sticking out of it.

“oh,” upon seeing it, christian stops dead in his tracks. marveling at it, you see his eyes light up and he has the biggest grin on his face. stepping closer to inspect it, “is it from that new place down the street?”

that ‘new place’ was a bakery that had just opened up a few weeks ago. it’s a cozy, picture-perfect bakery that had cakes and pastries lined up along their windows. it’s the type of place where you’d have been able to get a professionally-made chocolate cake guaranteed to taste heavenly.

“uh, no.” you gave him a sheepish grin. feeling very shy, you’re beginning to regret even doing this. you’d been so happy about not fucking up the baking, you hadn’t considered how, maybe, christian would want a big, 5 star cake. you were just so proud of what you’d done! you hate to admit it but you had put love and all that bullshit into it. but, maybe, he did want a cake from an actual bakery. cheeks warming, “I actually made it.”

“y/n,” he whispers. it shouldn’t be physically possible but his smile got even bigger. he looked so handsome. reaching for your hands, he pulls you into his arms. looking down at you with the softest gaze, “you made this? for me?”

all you can do is nod. nerves overtaking your system, “I did, it might not even be that good, i’m sorry it’s not that pretty-”

he shuts you up when he leaves a kiss on each cheek and a few more on your forehead and nose. cupping your face, his thumb begins to stroke your cheek. you feel slightly silly over how fast you lean into his touch.

“oh baby, ‘m so proud of you.” his voice is too soft, and the look he’s giving you isn’t helping. your knees feel like jelly. he’s leaving kisses all over your face now, whispering ‘thank yous’ in between. “this is the best thing you could’ve done for me, thank you, my pretty girl.”

feeling the worry lift from your shoulders, you sigh in relief. solemnly nodding, “I was really careful, so it should taste decent.”

“I bet it’ll taste as great as it looks,” he dips down to leave a kiss on the corner of your mouth. that's when you see that particular glint in his eye. he goes in for another kiss, a deeper one. when he pulls away, the bastard bites your lip. there’s a teasing smile, “but I know it won't taste as sweet as you do.”

later that night, after dinner and gifts and intimate celebrating, you find yourselves seated at the counter.

yes, maybe it tasted like cardboard and the icing had a salty taste instead of sweet one (was the unlabeled container full of salt or sugar? you’re not that sure anymore.)

yes, maybe you both tried swallowing it and smiling through the torture your tastebuds were going through.

yes, maybe you lightly slapped his chest when he told you he felt bad for you guys’ future children. they’re going to think we hate them, he wheezed throughout the laughter.

yes, maybe you both were in hysterics over this bizarre situation and went out to buy a real, edible cake from the nearby bakery. and back home, when you lit a candle on it, you scolded him when he told you what he had wished for. he scooped some icing onto his index finger and smeared it on your cheek. then kissed the other, unaffected cheek. “for every year, to be exactly like this one. I want a salty cake for the rest of my life if it means you’re here.”

“hey!” you pouted. getting some icing yourself, you dragged it across his nose and curved it down to his upper lip. “the wishes don’t come true if you tell people, you know.”

he pondered this for a second, “well I was going to wish for you to get some cooking lessons but who would bake me a salty cake, huh?”

“haha,” you deadpan. leaving another kiss on his cheek, “you think you’re such a comedian, grandpa.”

i personally love a good birthday sheet cake from the grocery store. feedback is greatly appreciated, thank you!

[justmywriting1313]

Hi! I came to see if there were any updates about Stupid ( absolutely no rush I just love your writing and crave more ♥️) but I saw you said we can send in requests for promts so can I get 56, 72, and 90 with neteyam please? Just absolute fluff of him loving his his perfect mate

God you’re so precious – 56

You’re being cute and sweet. It’s making me want to kiss you – 72

You’re my baby, and i’ll be damned if anyone tries to say otherwise – 90

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and soft Nete, Unedited cause I am a lazy bish... anyway enjoy and PLEASE PLEASE request more... it helps the creative juices and all that shabang

Neteyam has many titles he holds. Some that he took on willingly and others that were pushed upon him. From being the oldest son of Toruk Makto to the strongest warrior in his clan. From being the future olo'ekytan to being a protector for his reckless siblings. However, if you were to ask him what his favourite title would be...

The one he takes most seriously... His answer would always be – being your mate. It was what gave all the other roles in Neteyam's life meaning. For being Toruk Makto's eldest son meant nothing if he could not make you proud. Being the best warrior meant nothing if he could not protect you from all the horrors of the world. For future olo'ekytan meant nothing if you weren't his Tsahik...

Your mate, his proudest title yet... And it is exactly why everyone knows, this clan or the next, that in the morning hours of the day when the little ones of the clan still sleep, and the sun has just begin to light the forest casting soft rays of light through the tree branches, to not go looking for their olo'ekytan.

For those few hours, before the world became a whirlwind of responsibilities that Neteyam has to hold, he holds the one thing he wants to; you. It's where he finds himself right now. His eyes lidded and lovesick as he looks up at your giggling face.

He lay on his back, with his knees bent and feet on the ground. The soft grass tickling his azure skin as he trailed his hands up your sides, basking in your laughter. You sat with your legs on either side of Neteyam's waist as you twitched at the tickling sensation of his hands, whining and trying to lean back. Neteyam could only chuckle at your soft noises, before pulling you back upright with a firm grip of your waist. He lightly pinched your side as mock punishment for thinking you could get away. He would always pull you back to him. He watched you scrunch up your nose as you complained,

"Neteyammm... stop that it's ticklish..." your body shuddering as Neteyam's hands reached the bottom of your breasts. His thumbs going back and forth over your soft curves. He let his hands drift as he pretended to ponder the answer before teasing you back,

"Hmmm let me think about it... nope" you huffed in response. Neteyams hands ran over the curve of your breasts before coming to hold your shoulders. His hands softly massaging the skin there before they drifted over your collarbones.

"And why not?" Your own hands coming to rest on the smooth planes of his chest as you steadied yourself on Neteyam.

"Because..." An idea slowly formed in your head as your small curious hands looked for Neteyams on your body.

"Because what?" You slowly pulled his hands of you, intertwining your fingers as you did so, smiling at the difference in the size. Both your hands playing in the air as Neteyam replied,

"Because its making you all cute and sweet which in return is making me want to kiss you..." You leaned your face forward at his soft words and just as Neteyam craned his neck forward, excited about his well deserving kiss. You tightened both legs on either side of his waist, pinning him with your full weight as your pinned his hands on either side of his head. Neteyam's eyes widened as he tried in vain to move his torso. Above him your hair swayed to one side, your giggles taking over the clearing as you cheered in victory,

"There! your wandering hands can't make a mess of me now" You sealed the words with a quick kiss to his cheek. And although Neteyam preened under even the softest of affections from you, he lay in shock at the fact that his delicate mate had thought she could pin him down. He let you enjoy your little victory for a minute, his face relaxing at the giggles that were still decorating the air. He took in your glee as he firmly planted his own feet on the ground...

And in the next minute he was flipping you two over. He hardly used any strength, his own body weight more than enough to reverse your positions. He pinned your hands on either side of your head, as he now straddled your waist, keeping most of his weight on his knees. He watched you try in vain to push him off but it was an exercise in futility. You huffed loudly, your cheeks puffing out, your hair splayed out around you like a halo. This time Neteyam laughed a full bellied laugh at your unhappy expression,

"Not fair Neteeee..." But Neteyam cared not for your whining. All he could see was the soft plush of your lips as your big eyes looked up at him in mock anger. Your freckled skin, something he hoped your future children would take after, glowing. Neteyam finally leaned in, fiercely pressing his own lips to yours. What started of as firm kiss turned into something soft and tender as he let go of your hands. Instead he cupped your cheeks lightly pulling you up with him before you both separated. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at your smiling mate before you groaned. Neteyam didn't even need his hands to make a mess of you. All he had to do was smile like he was doing right now. You squeezed your eyes shut, hands coming to cover your blushing face but Neteyam simply laughed once more as he made himself comfortable on top of your body. His head coming to rest in the junction of your neck and shoulder as he pressed loose kisses to your skin,

"Eywa you are too precious..." he muttered "You are my jewel... my lovely little star and i'll be damned if anyone ever says otherwise..." The final words were said with a fierce look in his eyes as he pulled away to look at you and make sure you understood. You just softly smiled at your warrior... Your mate,

"Your mate Neteyam... Always"

Enjoy <3

[izurou]

⋆ .˚ 𖤐 — ft. SUNA RINTAROU ⋮ contains: f! reader. super brief masturbation. oral sex. pet names. reader sucks his fingers :c

making rintarou watch as you touch yourself.

ballsy move? yeah but—with high risk comes high reward, right? he was supposed to get pissed off, mumble something about you not being a good girl, and then fuck you into oblivion—ultimately teaching you a lesson, or whatever.

but he doesn’t do any of that. you were so tunnel visioned on your fantasy potentially coming to life—you didn’t even consider any other potential outcome. well, in your defense, you wouldn’t have seen this one coming either way.

it was all going to plan. you pushed him into your chair—the one that sits in front of your desk, opposite your bed. he didn’t resist, not at all. he simply leaned back, watching with curious eyes as you scooted back onto the mattress, propping your head up with a couple pillows.

prancing around the house all evening in nothing but his oversized shirt was bad enough—now you’re laying there, slowly pulling the fabric up your figure and revealing your white lace panties. he can see right through the sheer material, and his cock pulses in his sweatpants—but he doesn’t act on it, he just stares.

you run your fingertips up and down the center of the fabric a few times, letting him revel in the way your pretty pussy devours the lace before lifting your hips and discarding them altogether.

this is when your master plan all went to shit.

you spread your glistening cunt, showing him just how wet you are. you dip two fingers in, pumping them in and out a before circling back over your clit—all while letting whines of his name spill past your lips.

“fuck.”

huh? that low, breathy grunt didn’t come from you. stilling your movements, you open your eyes and—you’re met with quite the sight.

rintarou—head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, chest heaving as he strokes his thick cock. he runs a thumb over his leaky tip, involuntarily bucking his hips upwards. he’s enjoying this?

“c’mon,” he breathes out, focusing his gaze back onto your cunt—where your fingers have come to a complete stop. “keep going, baby.”

seriously? how does he expect you to focus on anything other than him right now? still, you try, lazily sinking your fingers back into your needy pussy. the knot in your tummy tightens—and not because you’re about to cum, but because watching him fist his cock is making you physically ache for more.

“rin i—need you, please,” you babble, turning onto your side and clamping your thighs shut around your hand.

how adorable. he hasn’t even touched you yet and you’re already begging.

“c’mere,” he pants, pulling his sweats the rest of the way down his legs and kicking them off to the side. he spreads his thighs, watching as you shuffle over to him.

his eyes flicker between you and the floor—his silent way of telling you to get on your knees. yes, you wanted to be taught a lesson, but this is just torture.

he cups your jaw as you settle between his legs, slipping his thumb into your mouth. using his free hand, he tugs at his cock—and you can feel the heat rushing to your cunt.

somehow you are being forced to watch—from mere inches away—as he touches himself. not that you can complain. he’s a true masterpiece after all—thin silver chain glinting with each rise and fall of his chest, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, cock twitching just from the sight of you on your knees. he will be the death of you.

“fuck, look at you,” he groans, popping his thumb out and switching it for his index and middle fingers. he pumps them in and out of your mouth, adoring the way your spit starts to bubble at the corners of your lips. “so pretty, baby.”

you moan, and the vibrations travel through his fingers and straight to his cock. he’d keep you like this forever if he could, but his self control is diminishing by the second.

he removes his fingers, momentarily fixating on the string of saliva that keeps you connected for a few extra seconds before taking hold of his cock. you open your mouth and stick your tongue out—and right then and there, rintarou decides he’s going to marry you someday.

“you’re perfect,” he slurs, shuddering as he taps the tip of his cock against your tongue. he rests a hand on the back of your head and lifts his hips, pushing himself into your mouth.

you bob your head—staring up at him through your pretty eyelashes as you swirl your tongue all around. he’s trying not to push your head down too much, but that only results in him bucking up into you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. he’s so close, he wants to cum so bad—but he’s not a monster.

he pulls his cock out of your mouth—ignoring your look of pure confusion and leaning down to press a wet, sloppy kiss to your lips.

“rin?” you mumble, peering up at him with that lovestruck look. could you be any more beautiful?

“what?” he grins, leaning back against the chair and motioning with his finger for you to follow. you straddle his lap, and immediately he finds purchase on your hips—squeezing and kneading at the plush skin. his hands travel up, pushing his shirt up over your breasts in the process.

“you think i’d cum without you?” he whispers, rolling one of your nipples between the pads of his fingers and kitten licking at the other. “after you were such a good girl for me?”

a good girl? that’s exactly the opposite of what you were trying to be—did he know? was this whole thing deliberate on his end? asshole.

this impending, hard earned reward better be the best of your damn life.

[writtenontheport]

Just a Night at Portland Row

(pt.1) (pt.2)

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Literal romcom, These people are silly, Everyone’s so sillycore here, teary confessions, someone accidentally confesses, nothing dramatic happens he’s just silly, Childhood friends to lovers, Lockwood is kinda stupid (affectionate), no smut or suggestive content, Lockwood and co and reader friendship, whether or not what Lockwood says at the end actually happens is up to you!!

Notes: I have quite a few issues with this one, and I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but I think it’s one of the better ways I could go about it. I also put all the flowers meanings at the bottom, so if you were curious I did in fact plan the flower meanings (I am a nerd). This finale has gone through about 20 revisions on the first day alone, so if anything seems jarringly out of place, I am so sorry 😭 I was all over the place with my ideas.

Summary: Just before supper time, you and Lockwood have a heart to heart, and it starts as it always has: with flowers, with tears, and a little funny thing called love.

word count: 2.4k+

“George,” Lockwood says seriously. It’s the first time George has ever seen him so serious about something that isn’t Lucy or him dying and it shocks him how quick he is to steel himself for whatever it is. “I need you to get Lucy to bring them down here, if you can, please.”

Now, ‘them’ is obviously referring to you, who’s laughing away upstairs with Lucy so loud they can hear it ring through the vents. If this wasn’t something George has genuinely been excited for, he would have smacked Lockwood upside the head for using that terrifying tone. “Don’t say it like that, prick. Thought someone was dying there.”

Lockwood grins at him from where he’s messing with the bouquet stood up on the table. The paper wrapping hasn’t been removed, courtesy of the empty vase and that water would most likely melt it; ribbon still intact. They stand, not quite fully in bloom (which is the best way to buy flowers, because otherwise they wilt right away) but just on the precipice of it. It’s packed with other, smaller additions, but at the heart of it, well. Maybe Lockwood did know something about the language of flowers.

“How’d you even pick them out?” George asks instead, watching Lockwood’s grin wobble.

“I made friends with the shopkeeper. He wouldn’t tell me what any of them meant, but he said they were good flowers— like the carnations. One of them though… these white ones here, just felt familiar somehow.” He kept messing about with the bouquet, meddling with any loose leaf or bud. “Can you please go get them? I want them to be able to see the flowers before they wilt.”

George does swat Lockwood for that, but he goes upstairs to get you. You and Lucy have moved to her room on George’s urging (he made Lockwood wait outside before coming in to make sure you didn’t know) and were lying in her bed on your stomachs, reading and sharing books. Lucy’s the first to look up at him, raising a brow as she nudges you.

“George? Everything ok?” You ask, propping yourself up to sit criss cross on the mattress. “Has Anthony come back yet?”

“He has,” he says simply, “He says he needs you in the kitchen. Lucy should stay since she must be tired from the case yesterday.”

From behind you, Lucy has a moment of realization that has her tucking her lips to hide a smile. Quietly, she puts a hand up to her forehead in a salute to George.

“You should go check,” she says, “Who knows what kind of trouble he might be in.”

“A lot of trouble,” George adds, nodding slightly along. You narrow your eyes in suspicion, but you get up off the bed.

“I’ll save your place!” She calls just as you’re headed down. George walks 2 steps behind you to hide his expression before he can school it, feeling giddy with nerves that aren’t even his to have. He wonders how Lockwood’s doing, stopping just at his bedroom door.

You turn back, asking “You aren’t coming?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He rocks gently on his feet and pulls his hands behind his back, reassuring you with a calm nod. “Off you go, Lockwood’s probably burnt himself making tea by now or something.”

“I’d hope not…” you mumble, each step down like a crescendo in the world’s most suspenseful piece of music— every floorboard creak like the lead instrument and your heartbeat acting a steady base. On a sheet you’re sure it looks hideous, but it levels out when you open the door and Lockwood’s waiting there by the counter, looking like he’s straight off a magazine. The silence creeps in, but the piece rises to new heights as the sound of everything— the floorboards, the vents— suddenly dulls out.

You step into the kitchen, and let the door shut behind you.

There is your Anthony, standing there in the middle of the kitchen with a bouquet full of dazzling pink tulips, red roses, and spots of white jasmine flowers. There is Anthony, the boy you’ve known and loved for years— looking at you like he always does: like you’re the whole world and sky and everything he wakes up for.

Neither of you speak for a good minute, but it’s not without trying. Lockwood spends that pregnant pause fumbling for words, before—

“I love you,” He says.

The words come rushing out his lips, hurried and desperate. It shocks you how simply he puts it, like a sudden rest in the notes that takes you by surprise. He looks surprised too; horrified, really, that he’s just blurted that out. He swallows thickly, steeling his expression into something determined.

“I—“ you pause, the words caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears. You think you tear up, but you can’t really tell when the whole world narrows down to Anthony Lockwood across from you in the kitchen of Portland Row, professing his love in the spur of the moment. You grow warm with affection, taking a step closer to him as the music of your singing heart drowns out everything but his words.

He takes a deep breath, his face pale with fear as he swallows and says quietly,, “Today, when I went down to the shops to get you these flowers, I met the really old man tending to them. Don’t look at me like that, he was really old, alright?”

“Anthony,” you scold quietly, tutting at him as you wrap your hands around his.

He bites the inside of his cheek before he keeps going. “Anyways he isn’t the point— I brought him up because he made me realise that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I never gave telling you a shot. He lived loving someone else until they died— even after they did, and if… if there was a chance I could have that with you, I wanted to take it. I can’t promise you that I’ll be alive for as long as you will be, but I can promise you that I will love you for everyday I live and breathe if you let me.”

“Anthony,” you start, breathlessly. You take his face in your hands and he puts the bouquet down to cover your hands with his. He looks so scared like this, fragile like glass in your hands and pale with nerves.

“I can’t promise you forever,” He says solemnly, “But I can promise you my heart for as long as it beats.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, and will yourself not to kiss him. Years down to minutes— minutes to seconds. The silence hangs like a winding note. You glance back quickly at the bouquet, picking out one of the jasmine flowers before sliding it behind his ear and resting your hands on his face.

“Do you remember the first flower I gave you?” You ask just as quietly. He shakes his head, cheeks rubbing against the skin of your palms. “We were… quite young at the time, and I must have been mad, because I stole it from the neighbour’s garden. Yes, the grumpy one, you remember her. Well, I ran straight over from all the way from home with this crumpled little thing in hand— stop giggling. I’m telling you an important story— and you lit up like a light. Cheeky little thing you were, finding a way to give it back to me when I got scolded the same day for stealing and I was awful sore about the whole thing.”

“You looked all sad,” He cut in, voice hoarse in a mumble, “It made me happy, so I wanted it to make you happy too.”

You laugh, just as breathless, “And it worked, Anthony. It’s still one of my favourite flowers. Did you know that? They were the first flowers I read up on when I learned flowers could have meanings.”

“What’d you find?” He asks, the nerves fading into a hopefulness that fills his eyes with stars. It’s helplessly endearing where you see them shine, nearly nose to nose with how close you’re holding him.

You hum and close your eyes, pushing your forehead against his. “We gave each other white jasmine flowers, that day. A lot of people say they mean purity or innocence, but the one that stuck out to me was that people say it meant “everlasting love” too. When I look back on it now, it must’ve been fate.”

“Cause I always loved you and you probably realised that with how stupid I get about you?”He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

You chuckle quietly, just as helplessly lost, “Not quite. I didn’t even think there was a chance you could love me back, though that does make everything a bit easier… because I’ve always loved you, Anthony.”

Like a child on Christmas day, Lockwood’s eyes grow wide; he’s helpless to the grin that splits his face. “Really?”

“I’m no liar, Anthony, and certainly not about this,” you laugh, unable to help yourself as you tip back and rest your nose lightly against his.

“No like— you mean it?” He asks, voice cracking with hope as he searches your face, “You love me? You love me?”

You’re helplessly endeared, helplessly in love and helplessly lost to it, so you just whisper back with a grin as wide, “Yes, Anthony. I love you.”

What little space between you both is gone in a second when he pushes his lips against yours. It’s a desperate thing, all relief and comfort and love pouring out. At some point, you’re both smiling too wide and too much for it to be anything more than just pushing your lips against each other’s and you pull away with a wet laugh.

He grins wider, and you didn’t think it was possible but he manages it. “I’m so glad, because if I had to go back to the shopkeeper with a terrible story about how I got rejected by the love of my life—“

You giggle and swat at his arm, wrapping your arms around him, “Of course that’s what you worry about. This is all a publicity stunt, yeah? To boost your ego.”

“Of course,” he says, with no weight to the words as he sniffs and blinks away the last of his tears, “Though that just means we should make it a bigger stunt and get married. I’ll even invite Kipps just to rub it in his face.”

You hum, helplessly amused, when the door slams open and George shamelessly walks in with at first his usual deadpan, then a pleased expression. From behind George, Lucy is brimming with happiness, smiling cheek to cheek.

“Gross,” George says, simply and without malice. He steps around you and Lockwood, patting you both on the back sincerely and pulling out pots and pans. It occurs to you a little late that he’s starting on supper. “Took you both a while to actually confess. Mental, the two of you.”

“It was cute,” Lucy says kindly, taking you from Lockwood (he does pout lightly, but she just sticks her tongue out at him) hugging you dear. “George just means that we’re both very happy you two finally got together. He was starting to go bald actually from pulling his hair out too much, look at his hairline—“

“You can’t even pretend like you weren’t too, Lucy.” George sends her a glare as she separates from you. Lockwood quickly fills the space at your side again and all but wraps himself around you. Lucy pats him on the back with a congratulatory smile.

“You can’t go bald before my wedding, George, that’d just ruin it,” you say, clicking your tongue as you reach over (not without struggling over Lockwood) and pat his curls into place. The pot nearly slips out of his hands while Lucy’s eyes grow big as saucers.

“Wedding?!?” They ask simultaneously. Lockwood giggles into your neck, the cheeky bastard.

“This one here,” you gesture at Lockwood with a look, “said we should get married since this whole thing is a publicity stunt or whatnot. Said he might even invite that Kipps bloke he hates.”

“That is the lamest proposal I have ever heard,” Lucy immediately cuts in, the most disappointed scowl pointed at Lockwood’s head.

“I’ve got to agree. You could absolutely do better than that, Lockwood. Also, Quill Kipps? Do you want to have start a fight at your wedding?” George asks, his back turned to everyone. You pull away from Lockwood to pick up the flowers, but not without him frowning as you do. He stops frowning as soon as you smile at him, though, before he turns his attention to Lucy and George when they both pretend to gag.

“I gave them flowers, a really sentimental bunch I think, then I had a good speech,” He says to Lucy first, who raises a brow at him.

He turns to George next. “I need to rub it in his face that he’s probably miserable and forever alone.”

“I thought it was gonna be a publicity stunt, not a revenge plot,” You mutter, clicking your tongue.

“I’m not letting you have a lame wedding, Lockwood, because that means they—“ she points to you “— will have a lame wedding and I will not let that happen.”

“But you’d let me have a lame wedding if it was just mine?” His face is scrunched in offence as he ‘discreetly’ wraps himself around you again.

“Yes,” Lucy and George say simultaneously.

“I’d marry you at a lame wedding.” You play with his hair where you can reach it, pressing a kiss to his forehead where he’s dumped it again on your shoulder. Lucy and George gag, Lockwood beams so bright you’d think he won the lottery that night.

They manage to convince you that it’s too dark out to leave (it was past curfew, the sun had set already) so you spend the night recounting everything you can with them until the stars had gone to sleep and the sun started rising.

The next day, he brings down the bouquet of carnations you’d first given him, and you mix both the bouquets into one. A year later, Portland Row becomes home to not only to the people living in it, but a garden full of flowers blooming with love, laughter, and a lot of hard work. White Jasmine flowers bloom on the veranda and a house of three becomes home to four.

A/N: Finally finished this series!! Whew, that was… hmm!! And just because I couldn’t add it to the story without it getting clunky, have these idk, headcanons? fun facts?:

Reader tells Lockwood all about the flowers after, and informs him about why the Jasmine flowers were so familiar

The grumpy neighbour reader stole the white jasmine flowers from was actually the old man gardener’s wife

Lockwood goes back to tell the old man, and they have a laugh about the whole thing

It is so hard to get one straight meaning for a flower, but if you dig enough you can find flowers that mean so many cute things:

Red carnations mean deep love and affection

Pink tulips mean caring and affection

White Jasmine flowers can mean many things but for this story I went with: Eternal love, persevering love, and new beginnings

Everyone knows red roses, but I also like to think Lockwood’s bouquet had thornless red roses because they mean love at first sight

Yes he one upped the reader even without knowing what all the flowers mean because he’s a competitive little freak (affectionate) and I love him

This series has been very dear to me, and I am especially thankful to @tangledinlove <3 Thank you for your kind reblogs, I hope you know I read them and always look forward to seeing how you find each part in the series even if I don’t respond to them <33333

Also @milesmorals asked me to tag her too!!

[villainessprefect]

~Tell It to My Heart~

title: Be prepared for sensational news

Prompt #10: Confessing to a friend that you’re in love with them and they overhear it.

Leona x gn!reader

Read on AO3

"You know, you've been pretty distracted today," Ruggie points out. He gulps down some water as he uses the shadows of the bleachers as protection from the sun. It's not hot, but after practicing Spelldrive for a couple of hours? It feels like the sun is beating against his skin. "If this is how you're going to be in the next tournament I hope you fix your staring habit by then."

You finish taking a drink of your own water. You're careful not to down it all in one go. Leaving the field for a refill usually gets you a scowl from the captain. Not that you mind, but you'd prefer to remain on his good side whenever possible. It helped that you would bring him an extra for him too.

"I'm not distracted," you huff. "And I'm not staring at anyone!"

Ruggie gives you an unimpressed look.

"And I'm filthy rich," he says sarcastically. "If you're going to defend yourself, you can think of a better excuse. At least say you're not staring at Leona and, I dunno, Jack instead. That's more believable." He lets out his iconic chuckle after speaking.

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you turn your head away from him. The last thing you want to do is give away your feelings. Although if Ruggie had pointed them out, perhaps they were obvious enough for others too? You didn't want to think about how obvious it would be to Leona.

Your lack of response causes Ruggie's eyes to narrow. The way you hide and avoid his gaze. He noticed your soft spot on Leona, but he always assumed that you were imitating him. Who wouldn't want to get in the good graces of a prince? But perhaps your intentions were far more...pure.

"Man, you're acting like you got a crush on him or something."

At this moment, you're glad that you weren't drinking water or else you would have choked on it by now. Even without the excuse of choking on water, you still can't find it in you to defend yourself against his playful remark.

Ruggie's eyes go wide and the hyena pulls back.

"N-No way?! Seriously?! I was just kidding! How could you even like someone like him?!"

"Ruggie!" You shout, finally finding your voice. You reach over to try and cover his mouth so nothing else can escape from his lips. But the hyena is quick. He sees your moves coming a mile away and easily dodges your feeble attempt at shutting him up with a simple dodge.

"I-It's not like...I mean..." You sigh, giving up. "Okay, so maybe I do sort of like Leona..."

"The sad part about this is I don't know whether to laugh or cry about this new info..." He sighs. Laughing is easier because it's almost funny to him that someone could like that lazy lion. On the other hand, he feels a little sorry for you. You really had to like him out of all the lions out there, huh?

You let out a whine and cover your face with your hands. So much for keeping this a secret. Things were going so well too! At least, you thought so. Maybe you should skip out on the next practice to perfect your totally not staring but staring techniques.

Ruggie takes a moment as he watches your reaction. Despite what he said, he can't help but be a little curious. Besides, he has something that could be used against you now. He might as well run with what he's got, right? It wouldn't hurt to dig a little deeper.

"So, tell me..." He slides beside you while hiding his grin. "Why do you like him?"

Unluckily for him, you know how he is.

"You really want me to tell you so you can have more dirt on me?" You ask while removing your hands from your face. You catch his face falling, an act he's done so perfectly before you nearly believe the news saddens him.

"I just wanna be a good friend, ya know? Hear all your woes..." Then that grin appears on his face and you can already hear the laughter escaping from him. "And it would really suck if Leona just suddenly heard how the little freshman has a thing for him."

"If I buy you lunch for a week will you keep this a secret?"

"Hmm. How about two weeks?"

"A week and a half."

"Deal!" He chuckles. "Now, where were we?"

You eye him for a moment, wondering if you should spill your guts to him. Despite him using this as leverage against you, you doubt he really would go to Leona. Besides, it's not like you had anyone else to speak to about your crush. It wouldn't hurt to gush just a little bit.

"Alright, alright..." You take in a breath. "Well, I think he's nice."

Ruggie holds back a snicker.

You're regretting this already.

"Not in an obvious way!" You cry out. "Even I know that. But I guess he's nice in a more subtle way? He's considerate, you know. He looks out for me- and you too! He's just...doing it in his own way."

"You know that he only helps me out cuz I help him out. There isn't anything free between us," he points out. "But I guess he does let me use his money from time to time."

"It's something, right? I know he has an attitude too, but that's part of his charm! Ruggie, don't laugh or I'm going to throw a disc at you when we get back on the field!" Your threat doesn't stop him from laughing. All he does is hide that smile behind his hands. "He's smart and well versed in...well, a lot of things! I mentioned something about some obscure flora once and he corrected me on my mistake." You let out a dreamy sigh. "And when he gets serious? Oh, he's so cool! He really does have the strength to back up all his talk and he knows it. I know it's a rare sight, but he totally shows that side more often in Spelldrive. It's one of the reasons why I joined."

Your happiness evaporates and you sigh.

"But I guess it's kinda silly for someone like me to like a prince. Leona wouldn't even dare to look at me."

"Uhh...hey," Ruggie tries to call for your attention. Unfortunately, you're preoccupied with your rambling.

"I'd probably be better off as food for him rather than a mate. Or maybe a pillow, I wouldn't mind that."

"You have some interesting thought process, herbivore."

The sudden, deeper voice makes you jump. With a quick turn, you find none other than the second prince himself, Leona. He stands tall, arms crossed and green eyes boring into your soul. You gulp.

"L-Leona! What are you doing here?" You let out a nervous laugh. You can feel your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and fear. Here he is giving you all his attention, but...how much did he hear?

"I was looking for two slackers who were taking too long on their break." His gaze quickly glances over to the hyena before they shift back to you. "And here I find you both, talking behind my back."

"I wouldn't exactly call it talking," Ruggie chuckles.

"Shut it!" You hiss.

"You shouldn't make assumptions about what I would do, herbivore." Leona takes a step forward, gripping your chin in between his fingers. His hold isn't rough, but enough to keep you in place. Your eyes meet with his and you swear that the pounding in your chest is growing louder with every second passing. "Unless you prefer me to take your words into consideration and devour you whole," he says with a grin.

"H-How...much did you hear?" You squeak.

"Who knows." He shrugs. You have a feeling he heard more than just your last comment. "Ruggie, get back to practice. Let the others know I have business to attend to."

"You got it," he says with a nod. Although he turns to you before running off. "Don't forget, I'm still getting my lunch from you!" As he disappears back onto the field, you hear his laughter ring out in your head.

"You shouldn't have made that deal with him."

Okay. That proves it. He totally heard everything. Instinct says to deny it, but the hyena's words play back in your mind. If you can't make up a plausible lie, why bother telling one? Especially to someone who could read you with just a glance.

"It's fine. I don't mind," you mumble. His grip lessens on your chin, yet you don't move. "I, uhh...Leona."

His ears twitch when you say his name. He watches you squirm in his grasp. Trying to escape from the very one your heart sought out. Herbivores could truly prove themselves to be interesting, couldn't they?

"If you're going to talk, do it with pride."

Leona releases his hold on you, but not for long. Before you can register your freedom, the lion is already lifting you up with ease. He practically tosses you over his shoulder, keeping you steady before leaving the stadium. He ignores your squeaks and protests to be put down, only wearing a prideful smile.

"We can discuss what you said privately in my room. I want to hear how nice I really am from you."

[daisynik7]

Hi!! First of all, i love how you write♡ and i'm here to request some fem!reader x Eren where the reader tells him "i love you" many times. Context: both of them are friends and she isn't too much into alcohol, so, when she drinks a bit during a personal party, she tells him that when they are alone for a moment, don't caring if he likes her in that way, she just smile and tells him again and again

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

cw: alcohol consumption, friends-to-lovers, fluff, all characters are in their mid-twenties

Author’s Note: You are so sweet, thank you so much for the kind words and the cute request! I love writing fluff for Eren, so I hope you like this one! Divider by @/saradika.

Everyone knows you’re a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. One shot you can handle just fine. Two is pushing the limits. At three, your friends, have to keep you close by in case you go running off somewhere, causing trouble. And four is the stuff of legends that you rarely ever get to, except that one time that people still talk about to this day. 

Tonight, you reach three shots, and by the time the liquor hits your tongue and burns down your throat, you know it’s a mistake. That’s because tonight, you decide to confess to your best friend Eren that you’re madly in love with him. How does the saying go? Loose lips sink ships? Well, this ship is heading towards the abyss with no chance at resurfacing. It’s do or die, and alcohol has decided your fate.

After Jean blows out the candles on his birthday cake, the music starts back up again, the bass reverberating through the speakers. You grab Eren’s hand, pulling him towards the dancefloor, aka the living room. He’s got an amused expression on his face, watching you shimmy back and forth towards him. Occasionally, he’ll offer his hand to twirl you. That’s one thing you love about Eren: how easy it is to be with him. It’s effortless. Like all the stars aligning to create the perfect little moment, no matter where you are. You spin for him one more time, pausing to wrap your arms around his neck, peering up at him, mouthing the words, “I love you.”

He laughs, giving you a curious look. “What?” he yells out, the music blaring. 

Leaning closer, you cup the shell of his ear to say, “I love you.”

He grins, giving you a playful boop on the nose. “You’re drunk.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed at the failed attempt. While Eren can be completely in tune with you for the most part, sometimes he’s terribly oblivious. Which is why you’re still friends and nothing more, despite everyone claiming the two of you are basically married. Soulmates, even. Is he too scared to cross that line from friendship to lovers? Or is it worse; does he not feel the same way? 

You try a few more times during the party, whispering the words to him in the kitchen while he hands you a cup of water to sober up. He smirks, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re funny. Now chug it.” You say it to him when you’re outside on the balcony, watching the cityscape from the twentieth floor of Jean’s apartment, bright lights illuminating the night sky in the distance. He shakes his head, clicking his tongue at you. “You seriously can’t handle your liquor.” To him, it’s a joke. And you can’t tell if you’re offended or relieved. But that doesn’t stop you from trying. 

Fed up with each failed attempt, you decide to kick it up a notch. You reach for a shot glass, pouring yourself the fourth shot of the night. It’s dangerous, but desperate times call for drastic measures, right? You down it in one go, feeling powerful, maybe a little unhinged. 

And, of course, this backfires on you. Because at this point, Sasha and Mikasa rope you into a game of strip poker, and you keep removing articles of clothing even though you’re not the losing hand. It’s when you’re down to your bra that Eren pauses the game to take you home, resulting in a round of boos from the crowd. 

He drives you back to your apartment, patient as ever as you chant the same words to him. I love you, I love you. I love you, Eren. He continues to chuckle at you, totally unaware that you really mean it. 

Back home, he forces another cup of water on you, watching you with a pleasant grin on his face. He always looks at you like this, like you’re precious to him. In your bedroom, you manage to change into your pajamas and tuck yourself under the covers, the booze starting to wear off. There’s a soft knock on the door before he enters, wearing his own sweats. He’s staying the night, as usual. It’s a routine on the weekends; you go out to party or hang out with friends, and he crashes on your couch. But tonight is different. You want it to be different from here on out.

He sits beside you at the edge of the bed, laughing, tugging lightly at the tag sticking out from your collar. “Your shirt’s on backwards, doofus.”

“Hey! You’re the doofus,” you snap. “You weren’t even listening to what I was trying to tell you tonight.”

“What are you talking about? The love thing? I heard it the first time. I love you too, okay?”

“No, Eren,” you say, firmly. “I love you. Like, love love. I’m in love with you,” The words slip out of your mouth easily, as if they’ve been at the tip of your tongue for the longest time, waiting for release. 

He stares at you, jaw hanging open with shock and realization, eventually stammering, “You-you’re in love with me?”

You roll your eyes, shaking his shoulders, his head bobbling back and forth. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole night!” 

“You told me you love me, not that you’re in love with me!” 

“What’s the difference?”

He doesn’t respond right away, staring at the tag still sticking out from your shirt. Eventually, he murmurs, “I don’t know what to say.” Clearly he’s rattled by your confession. Part of you wishes you hadn’t said anything at all, afraid of rejection. It’s too late now to take it all back. Is it ruined forever? You knew that fourth shot was a disaster waiting to happen.

You swallow hard, brain still a little hazy from the buzz. “Look, I’m sorry it came out like this, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I understand if you don’t feel the same way; I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

“That’s the thing, though. I do feel the same way.”

It’s your turn to be surprised. “What?”

He leans towards you, holding your hand in his, smiling. “I’m in love with you, too. I love you.”

And maybe it’s the shock of it all, or the booze landing it’s final blow, but his precious face canoodling yours is the last thing you remember before you pass out on the pillows, into the most poorly timed slumber.

When you wake up, it’s morning, and you’ve got a throbbing headache. Despite the obvious hangover, your memory is still intact, sitting up quickly to inspect your surroundings. It’s then that you notice Eren’s hand entwined with yours, sleeping soundly beside you. You lay back down, facing him, scooting closer until your noses are touching. Slowly, his eyes open, a sleepy grin spread across his face. “I just had the craziest dream.”

“Yeah? About what?” you ask, playing along.

“I dreamt that you were in love with me. And I was the happiest man in the world.”

“Well,” you start, squeezing his hand tighter. “Sorry to break it to you, but that wasn’t a dream.”

His smile widens. “Really?”

“Really,” you answer, brushing your lips over his. 

He kisses you back, whispering, “Then I truly am the happiest man in the world.”

[fandomwriterstuff]

Lost in Time (Part 1)

Noah Diaz x Reader (maybe fem reader, but not too explicitly fem)

Rated T: Fluff, Angst, Kissing

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: I don't know shit about Transformers and I don't know shit about NYC but I'm enthusiastic

What the hell am I doing?

If they wanted the technical answer, you would say to any onlookers that you were a struggling college student working in the science lab for extra money to supplement your barista wages.

If they wanted the real answer, you would tell them that you’d snuck into the science lab after they rejected your work application to see what was going on, found a bunch of shady suits sniffing around after hours, and got involved with the government.

That was why you found yourself at six on a Monday morning in the lab wearing a fancy stretchy black uniform that eerily resembled a Natasha Romanoff cosplay. (May she rest in peace, you never recovered after watching Black Widow). 

Because of course, after the suits found you, they made you sign a lot of paperwork and, in the end, offered you an assistant’s position at the lab. What the government was doing at a community college science lab was beyond you. That is, until they asked you to participate in an experiment. And by asked, you meant demanded. You didn’t really have a choice. Alas, it couldn’t be that bad. You hadn’t seen any weird experiment walking around like in The Hunger Games. 

So, you found yourself in the stretchy back catsuit, a seriously fancy looking science watch, and steampunk-looking shaded goggles.

“Now,” the professor in charge spoke as a student adjusted your goggles. “You will step onto the launch pad, you will transport, and a few seconds later you will reappear on the launch pad. All you need to do is press the red button,” he gestured to the little button on the watch. “You will press it once you arrive. Then we will bring you back. Do you understand?”

“Not really,” you mumbled. “Transport where?” Like you said, you signed a lot of non-disclosure paperwork, but as an assistant and not a student in this lab you didn’t know a lot about the work they did. The same student helped you step onto the launch pad as you waited for the response from the professor.

“You’ll get your bonus once you’re back.”

“Back from where?” You had a sickening feeling growing in your stomach and sending bile up your throat. 

“We’re just sending you back in time to yesterday. Then we will bring you right back to the present. Nothing to worry about,” you blanched, frozen in place for a moment.

“Excuse me?” You squeaked, voice an octave higher than it should have been. All at once the blood rushed back into your limbs and you lifted your foot to take a step off the launch pad when everything went black.

You couldn’t feel your limbs, you felt like you were floating in an endless black void.

Did I just die?

It only felt like minutes before you saw a light start to grow in the distance. There was no horizon, no objects, no anything, but the light kept growing. It was a kaleidoscope of blues, purples, orange, and pinks. It was beautiful, but above all else, it was blinding as it raced towards you. 

With eyes squeezed tightly shut, even behind your goggles you felt you might go blind after this. You’d better damn well get your bonus after this. 

But then, all of the sudden, the light was gone. But there was noise, and you were sitting on the ground. You blinked your eyes and waited for the bright floaters to go away before pushing the goggles up your forehead and taking in your surroundings.

There was grass under your legs and you felt the damp strands with curious fingers. Had you really gone back in time to yesterday? Maybe but… You certainly weren’t on your college campus.

Quickly shaking the fog out of your head and coming back to your task, you looked down at your science watch to press the red button… But the damn thing looked fried!

It must have burnt up in that bright light. It still looks functional if I could get it to turn on… Maybe I could ask someone to help me fix it.

Looking around again, you realized you were in a large park in what felt like early morning. That would explain the dewy grass. But where? Your knees creaked as you got to your feet and fought off a wave of nausea. Your eyes were soon drawn towards a large sign. 

Central Park.

How the hell…

Unsure how you traveled from your college to the middle of Central Park, you made your way towards the sign to look at the map. Beginning to feel lost and a little panicked, you patted yourself down to look for your phone or wallet. 

Shit.

The catsuit didn’t have pockets. You left both items on your desk in the lab. 

“Are you okay?” You jumped and turned towards the voice. Blinking, you took in the young man and the even younger boy in front of you. You thought it might have been the younger boy who spoke. 

“I’m good, peachy keen,” you gave a strained smile and two thumbs up. 

“Why do you look like that?” he asked again with a single raised eyebrow. 

“Kris, you’re being rude,” the man had a deeper voice, and you slid your eyes over to him. Around your age probably, handsome, looked similar to the younger boy. Were they related?

“What do you mean? What do I look like?” You looked down but the black catsuit was still black, your white converse were a little worse for wear but…

“You’re covered in black stuff except around your eyes. Were you in a fire?”

“No, I…” You blinked. “Is it yesterday?”

The man’s eyebrows rose up into his hairline. 

“No, I mean,” you sighed. Of course that wouldn’t have made sense. Yesterday was always yesterday and today would always be today. So today couldn’t possibly be yesterday to them. “I mean is today May 15th?”

“Yup!” the boy, Kris, responded with a grin. “May 15th, 1994. My birthday just passed.”

As his words sank in, you started to see black dots on the edges of your vision. You couldn’t breathe quite right. You felt hot in the catsuit. 

“I need to sit down,” your voice sounded chokes out and distant. You went to sit but your knees buckled and you prepared to faceplant as the black dots started covering everything. You didn’t hit the ground though, you noted as the sounds of chirping birds and wind through the leaves faded away. You felt a pair of strong arms as everything went back again. 

“What the hell was that?” the voice was garbled as you blinked your eyes open. Everything was blurry for a moment, but there were no black dots and you could breathe. 

“What just happened?” You slurred. You were laying with your back propped against a tree with the two guys from earlier in front of you. “You fainted, that happen to you often?” The older one asked, concern in his eyes.

“Uh no, I only ever get dizzy when I don’t drink enough water,” you looked around again. 1994. He said it was May 15th, 1994. 

“Where are you from? Is there anyone we can call to get you home?” You barked out a laugh. 

“This,” you gestured to your crispy looking watch. “Was supposed to be my get home safe signal. Unfortunately for me, it got fucked on the journey.” 

The handsome older one - who remained nameless - nodded thoughtfully. 

“The journey from…” Kris trailed off, and though you weren’t sure if you were supposed to say anything about your work… You needed help. 

“I came from May 16th, 2023.” 

Both of their reactions were comical choking noises, and you nodded dejectedly. 

“It seems I am in 1994 if you are to be trusted… Which is bad for me.”

“And your signal is damaged?” That was the older one.

“What’s your name? I feel weird referring to you in my head as Kris and his older and similar looking companion.” You blurted out, slightly pleased by the laugh he let out.

“I’m Noah, his brother. And you are?”

You told him your name. 

“How did you end up here?” 

“I’m a barista and a student. I applied at the science lab because it’s better money, got messed up with some government goons, and got bamboozled into time travel. I was supposed to show up May 15, 2023. Which was yesterday for me.” You rubbed your eyes with your fingers and sighed deeply. “When I arrived, I was supposed to hit the red button on the watch, but it got fried.”

“Noah is great with electronics, maybe he could fix it?” Kris offered and, despite your slight hope that it could be fixed, you shook your head.

“No offense,” you started, looking over at the handsome man. “But no matter how good you are with electronics, this tech is from nearly thirty years after right now. I don’t even know how they made it. I’m no electrical or mechanical engineer,” you sighed sadly.

“That’s a good point, but it won’t hurt me to look at it,” he offered you a nice smile but you were catastrophizing the situation. It just kept getting worse in your mind.

“I don’t have any money to pay you, I left my wallet and my stuff on my desk in the lab. All I have is this stupid uniform,” you were working yourself up, getting more upset, but you’d be damned if you cried in front of strangers. So you stood up and brushed yourself off. “I don’t know what to do, but I am going to start by finding a quiet place to figure that out.”

“Why don’t you come with us? We haven’t got much but I can offer you a hot shower and a quiet place to think,” Noah asked. And honestly, a man offering to help you and not looking like he expects anything in return… Very attractive. You felt your heart rate jump and your face lit up as you felt your first genuine smile in a while grow on your face. 

“That would be really nice, actually. Are you sure?” You were a little wary of following strangers home but what else were you going to do?

“Yeah, come on.”

You listened to the two chat between themselves as you traveled back to where they lived, and it was nice. You hadn’t spoken to anyone in your family recently, being so busy with work and school. It made you miss them. 

“What’s home like for you?” Noah asked after a bit, bringing you into their conversation. 

“Just a tiny college town apartment. Rent is way too high but the housing market is shit so renting is my only option. It’s okay though, no roommates, good windows, the landlord is pretty cool,” you shrugged. “I’m sort of glad I never got the cat I wanted to adopt. I couldn’t afford to buy toys or food, but I think the bigger issue now is that if I am stuck here, nobody would be able to take care of it.”

“You’re a cat person?” Kris asked and you smiled at him.

“I love cats. There was this really famous cat who looked grumpy all the time and it was the cutest thing ever.”

Noah huffed a laugh as you arrived at their apartment. 

“You should get some school work done, Kris,” Noah gave him a stern look that you saw right through, he was clery so fond of his little brother. “And I will show you to the shower,” he nodded his head towards a hallway as Kris wandered into his bedroom.

“I really appreciate this,” your voice was quieter, all the uncertainty in your life giving you anxiety. “I would be too scared to help a stranger.”

“I’m not scared of you,” he let out another chuckle, and it warmed you a little. “I’ve got some clean clothes you could wear for now, I can’t say if they’ll fit…But they would probably be more comfortable than that dirty catsuit,” he bit his lip and you fell a little more for the kind stranger. 

“Thank you, Noah,” you smiled, and when he handed you a stack of folded clothes you ducked into the bathroom. 

Alone, finally, you sagged. You were tired and sore right down to your bones. You felt like you’d done a full body workout every day for a week. It would be nice to get some hot water on your aching muscles. 

After stripping off the catsuit, in your underwear you looked in the mirror. You were clammy, and everywhere that wasn’t covered by the catsuit was covered in a thin layer of black dust. You looked silly with the goggle marks on your face. 

As soon as you stepped into the steamy shower, you released a sigh of relief. Working quickly, you cleansed yourself of all the dirt and grime from the last few hours and came out feeling a million times better. You still didn’t know what to do… But at least you were clean. 

Stepping out and drying off, you quickly changed into Noah’s clothes, they were soft and worn, and they felt nice on your skin. They smelled nice too, which was always a good sign.

There was a knock.

“You okay in there?” Noah’s voice was soft, and you realized you’d been staring at yourself in the mirror for a few minutes, lost in thought.

There was a soft creak as you opened the door to face him. There was a brief moment where you thought he looked you up and down, clean and in his clothes, but he quickly schooled his features.

“Yeah, just contemplating my situation. Sorry,” you chuckled a little. 

He shook his head.

“No worries, did you want me to take a look at your watch?”

You nodded hopefully, despite your worries that it would be too advanced for him to work with. 

You spent a few hours with him, chatting in his room while he carefully cleaned and looked at your watch. He spoke briefly about his time in the military, but was happy to share about his family. In return, you told him about your family and your studies, what hobbies you did in your free time. It was easy talking to him. 

“You were right, this is very advanced, there’s so much I don’t know about it and I don’t want to make it unusable if I touch the wrong thing,” he sighed and gave you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. Thank you for even looking at it,” you gulped, panic rising in you. You knew he could tell where your mind was, because he quickly stood and came over to sit next to you. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” You weren’t sure. You had no place to stay, you had no way of getting home, you had no money or phone. Not that a phone would have been much help. 

“I’m fine, I am good,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I am totally not panicking.” His eyebrows raised at that. “I just need a distraction, yeah.” You looked around his room, thinking for a moment. “I could go for a run… I could try to find a place to stay… Or get a job…” You ran through all the ideas you had for distracting yourself and came up blank. 

“Look, I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you, alright?” Noah interrupted your panicked rambling and you blinked, focusing on his voice. “But I know at least one way I could distract you,” your immediate reaction was to glance down at his lips, and back up to his eyes. Was he suggesting…? “And if not, that’s totally cool, I’m still gonna help you as much as I can.” God he was so hot when he wasn’t pressuring you. And he did have such kissable lips. 

You nodded, and he stopped talking. 

“Yeah?” He asked, a sly grin growing on his face. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, taking in everything about him. His beautiful eyes, his plush lips, his shining curls, his enticing scent, his warm hand cupping your cheek. 

That was new. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in close to you.

“Are you sure?” His voice was barely there, a soft whisper so close you could feel his breath on your lips. And honestly, you’d never been sure about any of the decisions you’d made in your life, but you were sure about this.

“Yes.”

What started as a soft brush of his lips against yours quickly grew and evolved into a heated kiss, his hand still cupping your cheek. You quickly clung onto him, hands feeling the taut muscles in his arms and finally winding around his neck as he drew you into his lap. You only disconnected to breathe, looking up at the ceiling as he trailed wet kisses down the column of your throat. His hands were roaming, and you were eating it up. You hadn’t felt this wanted in… well… ever. He held you carefully, but firmly, and you felt like you were the only two people in the world. 

His lips made their way back to yours and you melted into him as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Kissing Noah was an electric experience, his constantly moving hands lighting your skin on fire and making heat pool in your stomach. You grabbed a handful of his beautiful curls and firmly (but carefully) pulled his head back so you could lean down and devour his neck. The little noises he made as your mouth traveled only made you want to kiss him more. 

There was a static sound and you pulled off his neck, blinking slowly to come back to your senses. His eyes were dark and heated, but he also looked around the room.

“Sonic,” a voice came out of a walkie-talkie a few feet away. “Mom’s almost home, I just saw her through the window.”

Noah groaned, and you hid your little smile behind your hand. You’d heard all about their mom while he was looking at your watch. But you were sure nobody’s mom would take well to a stranger being in their house unannounced and making out with their eldest son. You had kind of hoped it would go further, but you decided it was best you didn’t. Rash decisions and all that. 

“I should go,” you whispered, still in his lap and with your hands brushing against the skin of his arms. 

“I wish you wouldn’t,” his voice was deep and smooth and you wanted nothing more than to stay in the warm circle of his arms. 

“Thank you for everything,” your voice was soft as you stood from his lap and fastened your watch back on your wrist. You decided you would keep his clothes, walking around in a dirty catsuit was sure to attract the wrong kind of attention. 

“Will I see you again?” he asked as you turned towards the door. 

“I hope so,” you left him with a genuine smile before disappearing into the night.

Part 2 coming soon

Masterlist

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 07 | BUT A TROUBLEMAKER GIRL

PAIRING: seo changbin x reader

GENRE: crack, fluff

WC: 0.76k

CW: attempt at humour, playful banter/insults (they're besties so its fine haha)

PROMPT: "your hand looks heavy, can i hold it for you?"

i picked out the prompt and my first thought was "from how many things can i make fun of?" lol. so this is where it ended. i honestly have no explanations for this, so just enjoy haha <3

title from troublemaker - olly murs

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

"Your hand looks heavy, can I hold it for you?”

You almost choked on your drink when you heard that. When your cough had eased enough for you to be able to speak, you managed to get out a strained “What?” before you launched into another fit, though this time it was a laugh.

“Have you calmed down now?” Changbin grumbled after having to listen to your laugh for another few minutes. If you were to ask him, he would swear the last two minutes were only pretended, because no human could possibly laugh for that long.

“I’m sorryyy Binnie,” you said, wiping imaginary tears from your face. However, upon seeing his unpleasant expression, you straightened your back and stopped the charade. "Yeah, I’m done. Sorry,” you muttered, this time truly meaning it. You didn’t think he took it that seriously, but apparently he did after all, which made you feel genuinely sorry. Sometimes you would simply take your jokes too far without realizing it. “It’s just… since when do you use pick-up lines?”

In the years of knowing Seo Changbin, you had never heard him say a single pick-up line. Sure, Changbin never passed up an opportunity to shamelessly flirt with just about anyone, but he never resorted to something so “primitive” (as he himself once said) like pick-up lines. That was more up Bang Chan’s alley.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Chan-hyung swears it works. He said the fans go crazy whenever he uses one.” He gave you a curious look. “You’re our fan too. Why didn’t it work?” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Despite the situation you found yourself in, the sight of him sitting like that opposite you was just so adorable. Of course, you would never admit it to him, but the thought was still there, making you smirk before you caught yourself.

You opted for standing up from the couch and going to refill your glass, not wanting your face to betray you, given the fact that Changbin was taking this situation seriously, at least to a certain degree.

“My dear Changbin, you’re forgetting one very small but also very important detail,” you called from the kitchen. While waiting for a response, you opened the fridge to take out a bottle of juice.

“What, that I’m not Chan-hyung?”

“No! Well… I mean yes, but that’s not my point,” you yelled back and put the juice back. Walking out of the kitchen, you stopped at the door and leaned your side on the doorframe, with a clear view of Changbin still pouting in the other room. He didn’t exactly look like he had figured it out yet, so it was up to you to give him the hint. “Do you know what the difference is between me and a regular STAY?”

He shook his head and looked up at you, waiting for an answer.

“I’ve met your dumb asses.”

With a smile on your lips, you watched Changbin’s reaction. As if it were slow motion, he furrowed his brows in confusion, but then it got replaced by annoyance. “Yah! What do you mean by that?” he shouted, but there was only pretend anger present in the tone of his voice. You got pretty good at guessing when he was joking, and right now you were sure you were both on the same page.

“That any fan who would spend just a day in the presence of any of you would think twice before falling for you,” you answered with an innocent grin and drank from the glass, making it seem like a neutral conversation. Which it was, theoretically. There was no real malice behind your words, you just enjoyed teasing your best friend.

“Or you just have poor taste, because Stray Kids are totally boyfriend goals,” Changbin retorted, raising an eyebrow as if saying “what’s your response to that, huh?”

But you were ready for him. You two bickered so often that your replies were basically autopilot. Without missing a beat, you scoffed. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.” With a victory smirk, you watched Changbin freeze. He was trying to think of some witty reply, but it seemed like you got him there.

“Wait a minute, doesn’t Jeongin have that friend from school who is also a STAY?” Changbin asked after a moment of silence. You just looked at him, head tilted to the side and confusion written all over your face. “Let’s call them and settle this once and for all,” he explained, already standing up and going to his room for his phone.

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