#tenderhearted reader

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Sweet Doesn't Mean Naive (Fallout Characters)

Fandom: Fallout 4 Scenario: The characters meeting and falling for a reader who is very sweet and helpful and accepting. Initially they may think the reader is naive because of their nature but soon learn differently. Pairings: Cait x Reader, Danse x Reader, Hancock x Reader, MacCready x Reader, Nick x Reader + Copper Howard x Reader.

Notes: Zero uses of Y/N or Sole. I may do a part 2 for the other characters later, these are just the ones that I'm super inspired for rn. [Also this is based on me never being able to select rude options in video games unless I genuinely hate the character lol]

Trigger Warning: These may be slightly OOC as I'm still familiarizing myself with the characters (more so the FO4 characters than Coop)

Cait:

Cait initially underestimates you, thinking you're too sweet and accepting to survive in the Wasteland. However, she's surprised when she discovers your savvy side, handling dangerous situations with intelligence and composure.

Your kindness and willingness to help others win her heart, and she admires your ability to adapt and thrive in challenging circumstances.

Cait falls for you deeply, realizing that your sweetness is not a weakness but a strength.

Danse:

Danse is initially cautious around you, expecting you to be naive due to your sweet and accepting demeanor. However, he's pleasantly surprised when he witnesses your quick thinking and resourcefulness during a perilous situation.

Your kindness and helpfulness earn his respect, and he admires your ability to handle yourself in tough situations.

Danse develops feelings for you, impressed by your combination of kindness and savvy decision-making skills.

Hancock:

Hancock is amused by your sweetness and helpfulness, initially thinking you might be a bit naive about the dangers of the Commonwealth. However, he's pleasantly surprised when you prove to be street smart and savvy in various situations.

Your accepting nature and open-mindedness capture his interest, and he admires your ability to see the good in people while still being aware of the harsh realities of the world.

Hancock develops strong feelings for you, fascinated by your unique blend of kindness and savvy insight.

MacCready:

MacCready is cautious around you at first, assuming you're naive because of your sweet and accepting personality. However, he quickly realizes that you're more savvy than you appear when you show exceptional skill in handling dangerous situations.

Your helpfulness and compassion make a lasting impression on him, and he admires your ability to adapt and survive in tough circumstances.

MacCready falls for you, drawn to your kindness and impressed by your hidden savvy nature.

Nick Valentine:

Nick initially sees you as naive, given your sweet and accepting demeanor. However, he's amazed when you display a keen understanding of complex situations and handle them with grace and intelligence.

He finds your kindness and empathy touching, and he admires your ability to see through people's facades while still maintaining your positive outlook.

Nick develops strong feelings for you, intrigued by your combination of sweetness and savvy awareness of the world around you.

Cooper:

When you first met, Coop was fairly dismissive of you. He thought you were just going to get yourself killed fairly soon. Your generous nature was a sign of naïveté in his eyes. So he wanted as little to do with you as possible.

Then you gave him a months supply of vials for free. And he decided to stick with you. Deciding the best repayment was to protect you from the dangers of the Wasteland and yourself.

That's when he learned just how much he'd underestimated you. You were kind and always willing to help absolutely anyone but you were not one that could taken advantage of.

And that's what really impressed him. The more of your acumen that Cooper saw, the more he grew to care about you. Including your altruistic nature.

[swordgrace]

𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.

SYNOPSIS: as the youngest daughter of alicent hightower, you are wed to the young wolf, cregan stark. what many believe to be a union of strife, such a notion is proven wrong very quickly.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.7K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), arranged marriage, reader is a targtower with pale hair & lilac eyes, skin color unspecified, first time sex (for reader), loss of virginity, p in v sex (unprotected), massive breeding kink, all stark men have a breeding gene, oral sex / cunnilingus (fem!rec), face-sitting, biting/marking, making out, lots of touching, missionary position, talk of having a child, soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: There’s been a ton of Cregan requests, so I hope that this satisfies a lot of people until I post another! ❤️ Thank you all so much for the incredible requests and support of my work, it means the world to me and I am extremely grateful for all of it. See you guys soon!

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 — 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐜𝐞.

The North was often regarded as a harsh and unyielding environment, with bitter, stinging winds and snowfalls that could bury men alive beneath their might. Such tales were often told to scare children or dissuade them from leaving the roost.

It was untamed and savage, according to your mother — she who vehemently fought against your betrothal to Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. A marriage steeped in wariness and discord, you had been pleasantly surprised by your husband’s kindness and warm stoicism.

Piety was a rarity in the bleak, bloodsoaked world you lived within — innocence was a quality as uncommon as a diamond in the rough. When Cregan had been offered such a sacred proposal during the last days of King Viserys I, he nearly scoffed at it.

A Targaryen, a Hightower — he almost imagined that the both of you would not do well together, and that it would become a sour union, made only to please families and uphold duty. His advisors, old men with embittered grudges against the South, cautioned him away from it, imploring him to wed a girl from the Vale or the Reach.

When Cregan Stark met you, clad in pale shades of sage and ivory, with lilac hues and a smile that could melt even the toughest of ice, perhaps it would not be a dreadful marriage after all.

Even with a dragon at your heel, there was something positively resplendent about you — Cregan could feel it within his marrow, a feeling seldom felt by any man locked in an arranged betrothal.

It was your innocuous, tenderhearted nature that beguiled him, as if you unconsciously drew him in with your honey. Your very first meeting happened to be to seal the marriage pact itself before you would be shipped away to the North, to be his wife and the new Lady Stark.

Cregan rarely found himself charmed by anyone, yet you possessed an inner beauty that flourished in his presence. You were your own flame, burning through his hardened exterior. He did not mistake your docile nature for weakness — you possessed a dragon, where he did not.

You were rather taken with him, perplexed by his outward ruggedness and gruff accent, the way in which he carried himself, massive physique clad in the thick trappings of a wolf. He was a mountain of a man, yet he handled you as if you were some precious jewel, sacred and worthy of admiration.

Alicent begrudgingly watched as you, her youngest daughter, untainted by her own fractured morality, was sent away to the North in the hands of some brute. For the good of the Realm, Viserys had told her, but it cut deeper knowing that it was you, her beloved flesh and blood.

Yet, as you found yourself beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree in the Godswood, hands bound with Cregan’s own, you forgot about your mother’s bitterness entirely — and you were happy.

The first kiss was one that would make a permanent residence within your memory for lifetimes to come. He had cradled your face, towering over you as if he were a solemn statue, but even you could see the softening within his visage.

King’s Landing was suffocating, more often than not. The animosity that festered between your family smothered you, crushing you beneath its sharp heel. You were no longer surrounded by bitterness and resentment, and instead, cloaked by the protection and warmth of your new husband.

The feast held in honor of your blossoming union was one of merriment, the mood lighthearted and blissful. You sat beside your husband, stomach tumbling with a coil of nerves. Everyone seemed foreign to you, unfamiliar faces with their northern attitudes and odd indifference.

You could not fault anyone for having their suspicions, given your heritage. Being a Targaryen, pale-headed and violet-eyed, bringing your dragon from the South — it must’ve been jarring. Growing into your station as the Lady of Winterfell would be a long and arduous process, but you hoped that Cregan would show you the way.

Oblivious to your Lord-Husband’s smoldering stare, you politely consumed bites of the sugar-dusted fruit cobbler, admiring the vibrant aura within the room. Your wedding gowns were as pure as the driven snow, accented with silver embroidery and lined with pale fleece to keep you warm, given the cold gnaw of winter.

If it weren’t for Cregan’s steadfastness in providing you with a new wardrobe fit for winter, the icy chill would’ve consumed your extremities from the inside-out.

Leaning over within his seat, Cregan reached for your hand, stormy-gray hues churning with a kindness reserved for you. “How are you faring, wife?” He inquired, voice a low rumble; a soothing timbre that sent shivers down your spine.

“Very well,” Warmth crawled along your flesh when he referred to you as wife so openly and affectionately. You weren’t accustomed to having someone be so attentive to you, hang upon your every word, treat you with such courteousness. “This is so wonderful. I must thank you and your Keep, for your kindness.”

If you were anyone else, Cregan might’ve treated you with a stalwart cordiality found in most formalities, but you were not anyone else. You were good, sweet, and kindhearted — above all, you were quite innocent. He would’ve been telling himself a bold lie if he hadn’t thought about taking you to bed several times already.

The colors of the North suited you — his home suited you. Not many men of his position were so lucky when it came to betrothals, but he felt as if he was beyond fortunate to have married you. Cregan only hoped to be a good husband to you and to your future children, heirs to Winterfell, with the blood of the dragon and the wolf in their veins.

He had forbidden a bedding ceremony, content to guide you to your chambers once the festivities ceased, instead. Cregan enjoyed observing you and your demure mannerisms, from the way you made small talk with those around you, complimenting the choice of food and drink. It warmed his heart to know that his wife was an amiable soul.

“You needn’t worry, Princess. It is my duty as your husband to show you a bit of Northern hospitality.” Cregan mused, a ghost of a smile tugging at either corner of his mouth. He rarely showed any emotion, let alone treating his subjects with a smile given his hardiness, but he did show a sliver of it for you. He didn’t want to scare you away.

With a delighted smile, your hand shyly curled around his, your skin unblemished and soft. Cregan hadn’t touched a woman as silky as you, and it made his blood run hot — an inopportune time, given that it was in the midst of his wedding feast. “Thank you, my Lord.” You weren’t sure if you were permitted to abandon formalities just yet.

Cregan huffed, gaze twinkling with amusement as he let your smaller hand hold his own, digits tenderly caressing over your knuckles. “I would hope that you only call me ‘my Lord’ if you’re angry with me,” His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound. “You aren’t in King’s Landing anymore.”

Embarrassment rippled through you, but before you could correct yourself out of anxiousness, Cregan gingerly squeezed your hand. Instead, it evoked a smile from you, the very same tender expression you’d given him when you were proclaimed as his wife. “I will call you husband when I am pleased with you.” You mused, bright as could be, and so blissfully naive.

Often regarded as a brooding, serious man with little traces of humor, Cregan found himself letting his guard down just enough with you. Of course, to any observer, he still seemed rather stoic, but the brief, fleeting looks he gave you, the threadbare smiles — it suggested otherwise.

As the excitable buzz of the feast began to simmer, Cregan stood from the table, wood scraping across the stone floors of the Great Hall. He stepped away from you, sparing the servants and guardsmen a word before he returned to your side.

“Is there not to be a bedding ceremony?” You whispered, stomach still tight and festering with nervousness. It was something you feared since you last saw Aegon and Helaena be hauled away for such a thing. The concept of it frightened you, twisted and unusual.

With furrowed brows, Cregan shook his head, offering his thick arm out for you to take. “No,” He grunted, noticing the swell of anxiousness etched into your features. “I would never subject you to such a thing, or myself.” He murmured, feeling you take his arm as he led you from the Great Hall.

Relief flooded through you, and you finally relaxed, seemingly appreciative of Cregan’s thoughtfulness in the matter. “Thank you, husband.” You sighed, gripping onto his arm as he led you into a warm corridor and towards a massive spiral of thick, stone steps.

Though, you still had a duty to perform — consummating the marriage, creating an heir. Part of you feared what it all entailed, given that Helaena never seemed pleased with any of it. Would he hurt you? You were uncertain, but you wanted to believe that your new husband would keep you safe.

Cregan welcomed you into your marital chambers, tidied and polished for your stay. Whatever belongings you brought with you, they were situated near a set of fine, wooden chairs circled around a stone table. Everything seemed warm and comely in his quarters, the direwolf aesthetic heavy-handed, the hearth crackling and bursting with ripples of fire.

“If there is something not to your liking, inform me — I will have it rearranged,” Cregan rumbled, following in your footsteps as you neared the open hearth, warming your hands and basking in its glow. He stood close to you, towering over you with his bulk and might. “How are you?” He asked, ensuring your comfort above all else.

There was little need for the hearth when Cregan was near, radiating a natural heat that drew you in. His countenance seemed softer, not nearly as impassive as he’d been before. “I am more than fine, I promise.” You assured him, hands wringing together. “I thought that I would miss home, but I do not. Isn’t that terrible?”

Perplexed, Cregan seemed inclined to listen to your elaboration, chestnut tresses framing his face. “It isn’t a terrible thing, princess. I would imagine that it must be freeing, to be somewhere else. You’ve never left the capital.” He replied, knowing that you were quite sheltered for most of your life.

A soft sigh escaped you, and you tried not to think about it anymore. You didn’t want to sour the mood with talk of home and the past — this was now. “It is liberating,” You confessed, craning to look at him with a semblance of wonder and affection. “I am happy that I’m here with you.” You spoke with genuineness and finality.

It was pleasing to hear you say such a thing, and even better to know that you truly meant it. One thick, burly arm slowly encircled your hips, bringing you into the warm expanse of his chest. “Good,” He murmured, expression steely. “That pleases me greatly.”

To know that Cregan valued your happiness was a wonderful feeling — you felt cared for and seen, shrouded within his protectiveness. You imagined that it would be a blissful marriage. “Thank you, Cregan.” His name slipped from your perfect tongue, and he thoroughly enjoyed the sound it made.

A low rumble vibrated through Cregan’s chest as he drew you as close as he could, tracing his calloused digits along the soft curve of your jaw. “You are very beautiful,” He murmured, timbre edged with a delicious husk that made your knees buckle. You shivered, something that he took note of. “Are you cold, wife?”

You nodded, sucking in a sharp breath when his lips neared yours. “I am.” A squeak escaped you, followed by a steady exhale. You had been kissed before, but the extent of your experience abruptly stopped there. You imagined that you wouldn’t be cold for much longer.

His lips met yours, the kiss tender yet passionate, deepened by your husband. Cregan found your mouth to be most pleasant, pliant and perfectly soft, yet malleable. You reciprocated his kiss, hands moving to press against his chest.

“Will it be painful?” You whispered, likely in an attempt to soothe your gnawing nervousness. Agony was something that didn’t coexist with pleasure, in your mind. You wanted this moment to be special and sacred, binding yourself to your husband.

Cregan hesitated, gently cupping your face with his rough palm, tenderly stroking along your cheek. “I wouldn’t dare harm you, princess. You have my word.” He assured, and it confirmed his suspicions — you hadn’t been with another before. “It might be painful, but I will be gentle. We don’t have to start tonight.”

Admittedly, it was quite the opposite for you — you wanted to start tonight, but you longed for clarification first, and he gave it to you. You shook your head, hands slipping toward the front of his tunic, as if silently pleading with him to stay. “I want to.” You insisted, looking like the picture of innocence.

As much as he liked you sweet and pious, Cregan had a feeling that it would be somewhat different after this. His gray hues swirled with a heavy desire, dropping towards the delicate curve of your mouth. “May I?” It was all that he needed to ask, and as soon as you nodded, he brought you in for a heated kiss.

Despite his appearance, a stone-faced wall of muscle and Northern strength, he was incredibly gentle with you. He held you against him, never tight enough to cause you discomfort, hands softly kneading into your hips. You kissed him back as best as you could, feverishly hot, butterflies erupting within your stomach.

His beautiful wife — Cregan could not imagine another, now that he had you in his arms. The way you kissed him was innocuous and tender, as if you were also terrified of making a mistake. Your purity, a precious thing indeed, would be tarnished and dissolved after this evening.

The thought of you, round and swollen with his child, was both tantalizing and tempting — well within his grasp. Cregan wondered if they would take after you, pale-headed with lilac hues, or perhaps himself. If the Gods were good, they would be a blend of the both of you, a dragon and a wolf.

You shivered again when your burly husband curled his hand into the back of your wedding gown, fingers slipping between the gaps, feeling inklings of your bare skin beneath. “I’ll keep you warm, wife.” He rumbled, pressing a kiss against your jaw. It wasn’t from the cold, he knew this, but his honeyed words made you flustered.

He dropped his cloak, allowing the thick curtain of fur to land against the floor. He was impossibly broad, as thick as stone, tunic loose yet snug enough to accentuate his brawn. You felt your breath hitch within your throat, swallowing another barrage of nerves.

Cregan’s mouth assailed your neck, hand peeling away the collar of pale fur in order to reach you. Every kiss was passionate, wrought with need, yet maintained that air of gentleness. Roughness was in his nature, but he wouldn’t dare fall into that pit on your wedding night.

You tasted ambrosial, sweet velvet beneath his lips, which peppered themselves wherever they could. He listened to your soft gasps and needy whines, your hands having curled into the coarse material of his tunic. He wanted to show you just how perfect you really were.

Suddenly, your gown felt much too tight and constricting, as if you would drown within it. You alleviated such sensations by loosening the bodice, tugging on the ivory strings. The fur became unraveled as Cregan gently draped the garment over the back of a chair.

Left in the thin, humble trappings of your smallclothes, nothing more than a corset hugging a linen slip, he silently appraised you with the hunger of a wolf. You appeared to be shy, somewhat coy in his presence as he looked you over, large palms settling against the swell of your hips.

“Why do you shy away?” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together, tone one of genuine concern. You were the prettiest creature he’d ever seen — most Targaryens were known for their beauty, but you possessed it both ways, inner and outer, and that only made you more incomparable in his eyes.

Swallowing your nerves, you chewed at the inside of your cheek, hands fidgeting together. “I suppose I worry about what you’ll think,” A sore insecurity, to be sure, but something most young maidens possessed. Cregan’s gray hues softened, one hand stroking along the length of your spine. “That I won’t be suitable.”

A huff escaped him, a threadbare chuckle as he shook his head, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “You worry too much, princess.” That deep, thunderous timbre of his, husky with his Northern accent, shook you right to your core. “You are my wife — and you are perfect.” He assured, kissing along your jaw.

You exhaled, hands reaching for his tunic, wanting to see him without his clothing. There was a rush of warmth that crawled across your flesh, surging through your blood as Cregan pressed endless kisses against your skin. He trailed from jaw to collarbone, hands loosening your corset.

With a brusque tug, your gruff husband tore it from you altogether, tossing the bodice aside. “I will show you how perfect you are.” He rumbled, voice a low, heavy caress near the shell of your ear. You shivered, gaze half-lidded as you tugged insistently at his tunic.

The message was unspoken, but conveyed nonetheless as your mountain of a husband let his hands drop from you, only to tug the coarse, dark linen over his head. He was burly, broad-shouldered and thick with muscle, wisps of chestnut tresses framing his face.

Amusingly enough, Cregan possessed more of a cherubic, youthful face than you expected, yet his nose was slightly crooked from having it broken, faint scars upon his face. His eyes seemed wisened, old beyond his years. He reached for your slip, gathering the material within his hands as he looked to you for consent.

With your confidence rejuvenated, you nodded, breathless and wanton as you assisted him in maneuvering out of your thin smallclothes. The brief lick of chilled air dragged across your bare flesh, causing your nipples to harden, pebbling with the chill.

Fire danced across your physique, tantalizing and gorgeous, beautiful beyond compare. Even Cregan seemed speechless for a beat, throat reverberating with a low grunt as he motioned toward your shared bed.

You half-expected him to pounce on you, grab your hips and stake his claim, but he simply resorted to watching you slide onto the bed, covered in furs of all varieties. The frame rustled slightly, and you laid down, a picture of true perfection. Your crown of pale tresses seemed to stick out amidst the darker pallor of the furs.

Anticipation churned violently within your gut, arousal slick and mounting between your thighs as Cregan stalked closer, removing clothing in the process. You watched with bated breath as he loosened the ties of his breeches, removing them altogether.

It was to be expected — a man of his indomitable stature likely had the assets to accompany it. You nearly choked at the sight of him, terrified that it really would hurt, even if he was gentle. You sucked in a sharp breath, bewildered when he had reclined beside you instead.

“I won’t bite, my Lady.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly patting his lap as you crawled closer. He effortlessly picked you up, letting you straddle his hips as he admired you from below. “Hm.” With a hum of approval, he caressed along your form, stroking from your thigh to your breasts.

It was agonizingly deliberate, made to explore and study instead of acting upon salacious impulses. Cregan observed you closely, palm gently cupping your breast, thumb swiping over your nipple. You gasped, careening into his sensual embrace.

A flurry of desire bubbled within him when you planted your smaller hand atop his, as if encouraging him to knead and grope at his leisure. He seemed pleased, and so did you, a low hum escaping you as he caressed your silky flesh.

He made sure to show that same amount of attention to your unattended breast, slowly kneading into you. Those tempestuous gray hues never tore themselves away from you, boring into you with a searing intensity.

Warm slick coalesced between your thighs, only mounting and growing when he continued to touch you, hand lifting to cup your chin. You absentmindedly leaned into his touch, eyes becoming half-lidded as you rocked forward within his lap.

The sensations you felt were new and exhilarating, goosebumps dancing across your spine, heat pooling between your legs. “May I touch you?” You asked, tone delicate and sweet, a display of your piety and innocence. He quite enjoyed your desire to explore alongside him, and he gave a nod of his head.

“You don’t need to ask, princess.” He soothed, jaw tensing as your soft palms settled against his chest. Cregan’s stormy eyes didn’t leave you, carefully tracing each plane of your curves, the downy texture of your skin, the lilac glint of your eyes.

Your fingertips dragged across his musculature, committing each scar to memory, features becoming hot beneath his incendiary stare. He was your husband now — you imagined that scenarios like these would become commonplace. “You are so handsome,” You whispered incredulously, lips curling into a gentle smile. “Perfect.”

Cregan appeared perplexed, a soft huff escaping him as he trailed his calloused palm across the small of your back. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had called him perfect and meant it — and he knew that you did. He neglected to act, allowing you to explore as much as you pleased.

Awestruck, he watched with silent hunger as you leaned down, lips pressing against his own. A soft grunt escaped Cregan as he caged you in, mouth passionate as it tangled with yours. He enjoyed the feeling of your body snug atop his, your skin resplendent, like velvet against the grating bite of stone.

Dragging a hand from the swell of your hips to the nape of your neck, he gripped the base of your skull, gingerly kneading into your pale tresses. He kissed you again, oozing with desire as he stole every wisp of air from your lungs.

He pulled one leg up into a v-shape, supporting your back to keep you upright atop his lap. You could feel the thick girth of his cock nudge against your backside, causing you to shiver at the foreign sensation. “Do you trust me?” Cregan murmured, roughened fingertips dragging over the pliant flesh of your thigh.

There was an indiscernible look within his eyes, chestnut brows drawing together slightly. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and Cregan settled against the furs, strewn on his back. Those strong hands of his continued to nudge you forward, bringing you from his warm lap to his chest, and then a touch closer.

“What are you …” Uncertain yet filled with exhilaration, you had no idea what Cregan was planning. Your slick cunt neared his mouth, and your Northern paramour did little to slow the process, bumping you forward until you hovered above him. “C—Cregan, C —” Your voice tapered off into a whine.

His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, a sensation that immediately made your knees buckle. You used the headboard to brace yourself, mouth tearing open as a strangled gasp escaped you. Part of you feared sitting down entirely, but Cregan coaxed you down, hands digging into your haunches.

Your reaction was beyond worthwhile, body trembling and coiled, hand scrambling to brace yourself as the other fervently dug into his chestnut tresses. You never imagined that such pleasure was even possible, filling you with an excitable ecstasy that sank into your bones.

Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.

Even when he rested beneath you, he still seemed indomitable, perhaps a touch intimidating. You didn’t look down, body involuntarily trembling and rocking forward, back beginning to arch. “Gods, a—ah!” You stammered, thighs twitching and quivering as his tongue gently flicked over your clit.

Visibly flustered, you felt so strange and smitten, riding your husband’s face as you would your dragon. It filled your belly with a rousing fire, one bright enough to consume the rest of your body, licking along the length of your spine.

A low rumble emerged from Cregan’s chest, a vibration that rattled you to your core. He wanted you to have your fill, take as much as you could and drown within pleasure. Your maidenhead was still intact, a virtue that he did not treat lightly. He didn’t feel the need to breathe, lapping at your cunt with a wolfish gluttony.

You were undeniably soaked, like a fine stout upon his tongue as he devoured you. Cregan was passionate, each stroke of his tongue ensuring that you felt it all, bliss erupting throughout your stomach.

Chasing after what you imagined to be your release, you happened to peer down for a moment, finding the contented face of your husband, whose face was lodged between your legs. His brows were creased in concentration, tongue prodding against your entrance before languidly flicking back to your clit.

It was only when he pursed his lips around that sensitive clutch of nerves, that you nearly collapsed around him. Even your draconic blood could melt, tempered by the hardened ice of your Northern paramour. You gasped, hips stuttering as your thighs squeezed at either side of his head — fortunately, he didn’t seem to care.

The only thing you wanted was this, forever — your husband’s tongue between your legs, a sanctuary in the North with a potential family, a life in which you could finally find your solace. You continued to squirm and writhe, moaning his praises into the warmth of your chambers.

As you approached your peak, you grappled with Cregan’s tresses, tugging at the root as you rocked forward, again and again. “Cregan,” You moaned, countenance contorting into a look of sheer pleasure, bones crawling with an insatiable heat. “Cregan, Cregan, please!” It was a siren’s song of desire.

He did not stop, but he didn’t change course, either. Instead, he simply continued on, suckling at your clit as he intermingled it with timed laps of his tongue. Your release slammed into you, white-hot and blistering, gnawing away at your stomach as that coil of heat effectively snapped.

A whine emerged from you, one that was nearly breathless as you rocked forward again, legs shaking from ecstasy as you rode out your peak. Cregan, ever the dutiful husband, lapped at your nectar, savoring the taste, the scent of a pleasurable aftermath.

“What —” You had to catch your breath again, attempting to recuperate as you sat back on his chest instead, thick, burly muscle plentiful enough to cushion you. “Where did you learn how to do that?” It was an innocuous question, one so sweetly-spoken that it nearly caused Cregan to chuckle.

He did, however, smile — a rare, sentimental gesture reserved only for you. It was threadbare, and if it weren’t for the nature of your relationship, one might’ve thought him to be rugged and indifferent. “You need only ask, princess, and I will oblige.” His voice was a deep rumble that warmed your insides.

You thoroughly enjoyed the nickname of princess — a term of endearment given your status, but you were a princess no longer. “I am a lady of the North now, aren’t I? A princess no longer,” You proclaimed, skin shimmering with perspiration. “What will you call me, now?” You asked.

“Hm,” Cregan contemplated, pressing a kiss against your leg before he sat up enough to have a good look at you, chin still glistening with your slick. The sight was lewd, enough to make you unbelievably flustered as he grew closer, nearly chest-to-chest with you. “Lady Stark would suffice.” He murmured.

Something amorous burned within you, a smolder that soon turned to ignited sparks. “It would please me greatly.” You hummed, running your hands over his biceps before Cregan gently changed places with you, moving you beneath his bulk, comfortable upon your back.

Soft was a mere understatement — he could feel himself melt. It was not your dragon’s blood or heat that made him crumble, but your heart. He could imagine you as the mother of his children, belly round with his heirs, the Lady of Winterfell, a Hightower no longer.

He settled between your legs, and you gasped when his cock gently glided against your slick core. Cregan knew to temper himself, to be as gentle as he could with it being your wedding night, but his resolve was steadily diminished in your presence. He steeled himself, pressing a string of kisses along your body.

Without thinking, you unconsciously goaded Cregan into a point of near-frenzy. Your hands found the taut, trunk-like muscle of his biceps, visage filled with a sense of awe and adoration. “A child would please me greatly.” You confessed, having no clue what it would do to your husband.

Cregan stopped, digits curling into the thick furs on either side of your head. It took every fiber of his being not to fuck you then and there — and he wouldn’t, it wasn’t right for him to take your maidenhead with such roughness. His fantasy became reality, a visceral, beautiful vision that made him grunt, jaw unnaturally tense.

His rough palm soothingly stroked along your thigh, lust swelling within him like a blizzard, a violent storm of need that transcended all bonds of propriety. “Does Lady Stark want me to put a pup in her belly?” Cregan rumbled, tempestuous hues ignited with a fire that demanded to be extinguished, sending shockwaves right to your core.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, shuddering at the sound of his voice — an edged husk, like the rumbling of thunder before a deluge or the shaking of a mountain. “Yes,” You exhaled, searching his countenance, only to find desire. “I would.”

The Gods were testing him, aiming to see if he would break beneath the pressure, but he refused. Cregan lowered himself over you, lips molding themselves against yours in a hot kiss. Your hands remained poised atop his biceps, barely able to wrap themselves around the thick, corded muscle.

He wasn’t much of a talker, and it quickly dwindled into deep grunts and heavier sighs as he aligned his cock with your entrance. He made sure to part your legs, keeping them spread as he began to push inside of you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, startled at the twinge of pain, the discomfort of it all.

Cregan despised the mere thought of causing you harm, and even he was willing to end it all then and there. “We don’t have to continue, beloved.” He rumbled, pressing a soothing string of kisses along your face. The endearing nickname made you preen, nails digging into his arms.

“No, I — I’m well enough,” You breathed, insistent on continuing. Cregan deliberated, but when you let out a low whine, he obeyed your command. “Gods, I need you, Cregan.” Pitched with a wanton resonance, you urged him to keep going.

Your neediness made his blood run hot, and he nodded, sluggishly resuming his pace. He continued to tilt his hips forward, cock feeding into you, inch by agonizing inch. Cregan felt the desperate bite of your nails clutching into muscle, leaving behind angry crescents.

You were never fully warned of the pain, the discomfort that accompanied pleasure. It was always sold as some fantasy, particularly for men — nights of heavenly passion resulting in bliss. For you, it was simply a marital duty to provide your husband with an heir, but this transcended that. Passion and affection sparked between the both of you, and it felt right.

As Cregan finally bottomed out inside of you, he allowed you time to fully adjust, rocking into you at a lackadaisical pace. He continued to shower you in kisses, wherever his lips could reach, giving particular affection to the crook of your neck.

Whatever discontent you felt, you hastily pushed it aside, tossing it into the recesses of your mind. Instead, you focused on him — on how incredible he made you feel, the warmth you experienced in his presence. One of your hands slipped to thread within his chestnut tresses, mouth agape.

You took him so well — better than expected, and it filled him with a sense of pride and ardor. Cregan pressed hungry kisses along your throat, nose buried into the hollow of it, right beneath your jugular. He continued to go slow, afraid of causing you further pain.

Cregan repositioned his hand, leaving one lodged beside your head, the other sinking into your haunch, digits tenderly kneading into your thigh. It was an offer of reassurance, and he watched your countenance shift from discontented to relaxed.

“Move,” The sharpness of your command brought him to heel, and he very nearly smiled — it was there, the ghost of it toying at his lips. Bringing his hips back and then forward, you moaned, knowing that the sting of pain would soon blossom into pleasure. “Please.”

Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, arousal thick between your legs as Cregan began to find his pace, a rhythm that shook you to your core. He was so very gentle, even for a man of his herculean mass and muscle. He took care of you, soothingly caressing your thigh as he thrusted into you.

His cock filled you completely, a stretch that would take you more than just one night to adjust to. Your maidenhead was gone, your cunt tight around his length, pulling him in again and again.

Cregan’s breathing became heavier, somewhat labored as he consummated your union. Each snap of his hips held meaning, beyond the creation of an heir. It was tenuous with feelings, a burning sentiment he felt for you, ardor that had grown into a fire.

Admittedly, his mind was hazy, fueled by desire and the mere thought of you wanting a child — you had asked it of him, demanded, and he was at your mercy. Cregan couldn’t have gotten any luckier with you, the most resplendent woman he’d ever seen.

Imagining you full and round, still as lovely as the day he set his eyes upon you, a mother and a dragon — it was nothing short of true perfection. He chased after it, evident by the growing vigor and passion in each thrust of his hips, cock nearly tearing you into two.

No matter how gentle and careful Cregan was with you, it was to no avail, but you no longer cared. “Cregan,” You moaned, lifting one leg to hitch it around his waist, and that only seemed to further spur him on, allowing him to hit new depths. His throbbing length nearly kissed your womb, filling you to the brim. “Cregan!” You cried.

For a moment, you feared being split in-half by your mountain of a husband, but he slowed enough to let you recuperate, throat reverberating with carnal grunts. The rumbling of his chest, the heat that radiated from him in waves — it was all perfect.

It was driving him mad, the way your cunt constricted around his cock, the way in which your back arched from the furs, chest brushing against his. Cregan grunted, jaw set and brows furrowed in concentration as he kneaded into your thigh, something to alleviate his tension.

His thrusts deepened, became passionate and invigorated with love, and each snap of his hips made your head spin with delirium. You were drunk on desire, clinging to him as if you were a drowning maiden, hand splayed against his shoulder.

Whenever he happened to become a touch too vigorous, he felt your nails dig deep into his flesh, leaving behind the reddened marks of your consummation. Cregan was getting close, chest erupting with labored pants as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You moaned, body bending beneath his passion, malleable within his hands. His cock throbbed within you as he sought to spill his seed, face against yours, lips occasionally connecting in a series of sloppy, warm kisses. Everything felt incredible, in ways that you couldn’t comprehend.

He was so burly, a thick wall of impenetrable muscle that seemed to envelop you entirely, shield you from everything else, from all harm. Strands of chestnut stuck to his temples, flesh glittering with perspiration from the exertion of lovemaking, coupled with the heat in your chambers.

With another brusque thrust of his hips, he settled inside of you, reaching his peak with a subtle groan. His seed filled your cunt in hot ropes, more than enough to take, if the Gods were good. Cregan exhaled, feverishly hot as he began to recuperate, neglecting to remove himself from you for a few moments.

“Are you alright?” Cregan murmured, ensuring your wellbeing first, above all else. A stinging soreness settled into your thighs and your core, but you would survive. He didn’t completely obliterate you, thankfully — you wondered what he would be like, unrestrained.

“Yes,” You smiled, visibly flustered beneath the intensity of his stare. “That was incredible.” Your confession made him huff, likely one of amusement as he pressed a kiss against your forehead. Even you glittered with sweat, but that was to be expected.

You already wanted more — and you nearly asked it of him.

Lascivious fantasies took root within your mind, and the mere idea of him being rough and completely domineering made your cunt throb. You could not do it now, given how exhausted you were, but he had certainly unlocked a new side to you, a side that you were unfamiliar with.

Cregan pulled himself from you, propping your hips up beneath a feathered pillow to ensure that his seed would take. He rested beside you, drawing you into the bulk of his muscled arms, allowing you to rest your head against the expanse of his chest. “You were perfect.” He rumbled, roughened digits stroking along your spine.

It pleased you to know that your husband was satisfied with you, much to your delight. “I am glad,” Relief rippled through you as you inched closer, perfectly slotted against his frame. “So were you.” Your pleasant accolades made him smile, fracturing his stony exterior.

“There will be plenty of time for this, that I can promise you,” Cregan was more concerned with getting to know you, his beautiful lady-wife, Lady Stark. “I would like to start with you.” He murmured, savoring the sensation of your fingers tracing across his abdomen.

You blinked, seemingly surprised by Cregan’s genuine interest in you. It made you happy — perhaps you could have both. Moments of learning and moments like these, where you could indulge in pleasure.

“Would it offend you if I asked you to do both?” You questioned, warmth crawling along your body as Cregan squeezed the swell of your hip, gray hues sparkling with a semblance of mirth.

“It wouldn’t,” Cregan mused, timbre dropping to a lull, a husky octave that seemed to envelop you in its stoicism and warmth. “It pleases me to know that Lady Stark possesses the appetite of a dragon.” His teasing made you squirm, but he simply caressed you and held you closer.

With a coy smile, you lifted your head, pressing your lips against his, asserting your still-lingering desire for your husband. “Not a dragon,” Your tone softened with a sweeter resonance. “A wolf.”

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not steal my work and claim it as your own or translate it onto other platforms.

[saintobio]

LUCIFER.

his fall was not from grace, yet in his descent, he found freedom—a kingdom of his own making, where he rules not with light, but with the shadows it casts. and you, unfortunate soul, are the sin that fuels his eternal reign.

♱ genre. gothic, dark romance, smut, angels/demons au, 18+

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ tags. 5.2k wc. this fic will contain dark and twisted themes. please heed the warnings and proceed with proper discretion. demon!sylus, sylus is ooc, not set in lads universe, profanity, heavy sacrilege/blasphemy, catcalling, sadistic undertones, noncon/dubcon, toxic relationships, corruption, sex in church, dacryphilia, mentions of obsession, allusions to stockholm syndrome, yandere, fingering, unprotected sex, explicit smut.

♱ notes. this is an old rewritten/reimagined fic of mine bcos i saw a theory abt sylus being a demon. and coincidentally, rewatching a season of lucifer only made my brain rot tenfold D; so if you've seen me post this fic before with another character, pretend you didn't >:D

Thunder grumbled as a flash of lighting struck through the dark blanket of twilight skies. The rumbling sound angrily resonated through the stretch of clouds as if the heavens were to wash away human sins that have long been plaguing this era of the 21st century. A shower of rain soon followed that started in huge droplets and later cascaded from the slate gray clouds like waterfall. 

Checking your old leather watch, it was only 6PM. It had been two hours since the power outage doomed the whole neighborhood because the utility poles were severely damaged after the hurricane ravaged the city yesterday. 

The thick soles of your boots landed heavily on the tessellated sidewalk with every step, holding your umbrella closer to seal you from the heavy rainfall. Your eyes followed the beads of rain that bounced off the cold cement as your mind wandered further than where your body could take you to. 

You had left Sylus sleeping in bed back in your shared apartment so you could walk around the city and drop by the church. It wasn’t like you sneaked out, but was only reluctant to let him know of your whereabouts because you didn’t want him to follow you around, especially to such a scared place like church. Before you left, however, you did ensure that his silver cross was still enclosed around his collar just for your sanity. 

It had been a while since you last visited the church. With the power out and nothing else to do, you decided it was the perfect time to visit the cathedral where you always made your most solemn prayers.

The streets were still in shambles, though. Road signages were sprawled on the sidewalk, branches were barely hanging off the trees—the city had vestiges of wreckage from the hurricane that emptied a usually busy metropolitan area today. Most people were still at the leisure of their homes as work and classes have been suspended until further notice, for everyone’s safety and to allow the government to clean the roads. 

You could already imagine Sylus shaking his head at your resistance to just stay indoors and simply be with him. The only reason you were confident to leave his side today was because it had been awhile since the last incident. You could live with the thought of coming back home to Sylus and his usual self. Sylus, who was always thoughtful and tenderhearted albeit his dominant exterior. Never did you think that you could land a man of such warmth—a year in two days—but how you met was a story made for another day. 

Amidst the already dismal atmosphere outside, stepping by the narthex inside the baroque church greeted you with an even more caliginous surrounding. Darkness enshrouded the interiors of your chosen place of worship with only as much as three paschal torches by the apse to light up the altar. Still, with God’s presence, your feet carried you in slow footsteps along the velvet red aisle as you made your way towards the nave. 

You were alone in the eerie cathedral, but fear did not consume as you were in attendance to the crucifix above the high altar. This was your favorite cathedral among all the others in the city simply because of its gothic Victorian architecture.

Fixed with the cathedral’s grandeur and bedight with ornate decorations, you became more comfortable at situating yourself by the pew—genuflecting on the elevated wood behind the stretch of oak benches as soon as you found your usual spot. 

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” you whispered in sotto voce, performing a sign of the cross with your eyes glued to the crucifix that represented Jesus Christ. You had your elbows propped atop the bench as you silently prayed. 

Loving and gracious God, with all love and mercy, we thank you for blessing us with another day and protecting us in times of natural disaster. 

You wanted to ignore the unusual cold air that slithered on your skin in horripilation. Your prayer resumed despite the Stygian gloom that darkened the cathedral’s interior or the sound of the harsh wind slamming through the towering doors by the vestibule. The storm is coming again, you mentally noted. 

With your grace and kindness, Lord, I pray that you will continue to guide us—

The manly fleer echoing through the vacantness of the church made you halt from your recital. “I knew my cute church girl would be here.” 

You knew that devilish voice all too well that it had you shutting your eyes, petrified. No wonder the air felt sinister. But if your gut-feeling about him was right, then there was no need to be frightened. “Sylus, I’m in the middle of a prayer,” you hushed, although before you could turn around to face his silhouette, he had already transported to your side with a wicked smile plastered on his pallid face. 

“I’m not him,” he spoke in an orotund voice, stepping closer and closer. His ash blond hair did not hide his incarnadine eyes. “Stop looking for that runt when you’re with me.” 

You stepped out of the pew with a rapid heartbeat, standing by the aisle as the tall man towered over you. “S-Sylus, where’s your—” you searched for his silver cross and found it still hanging around his neck, “did you break it?” 

He glowered at your accusation. “You know I would if I could, sweetie.” 

You exhaled a deep sigh. This was not Sylus, this was the malevolent demon inside of him. You ought to be cautious of yourself. “Okay, well... Leave me alone. I’m praying.”

“Ordering me around?” Each step that he took reverberated across the cathedral. He stretched his head from side-to-side in a manner that showed his ennui. “Don’t you miss me, kitten?” 

There was no stopping to the loud thumping of your heart as you stood along the aisle with Sylus backing you off further to the center. “Sylus, I said not now,” you begged, but he refused to listen and only wiped his lower lip with his thumb. 

“I hate it when you make me wait,” he muttered, stepping forward until your lower back hit the credence table at the altar. You found yourself trapped in a decreasing distance between yourself and the sadistic devil in front of you. “Don’t look so scared. We do this every time.” 

“I’m not scared, but...” Your voice was getting softer, yet filled with fret. You pressed a hand on his chest as he locked your body with both arms around the table. “Please, not here.”

You had to be firm, you just had to be but you couldn’t muster the courage to fight back in Sylus’s presence. He was the embodiment of power and you were the representation of weakness. 

He was a demon that thrived on sin, and he drew strength from indulging in the seven deadly sins. Vainglory, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, sloth—all of those fueled his existence. Today, however, it was the third sin that consumed him, the one that ignited his darkest sexual desires. 

“I’ll be quick,” he bargained, undoing the upper buttons of your dress despite your failed attempts at pushing him away. Doing it at such a place! You sent him a glare but he only returned a sly smile. “How about we show your God what you’re really like underneath that maidenly exterior, hm? Show him how dirty you really are?”

God, help me. You desperately shook your head, now overthinking if someone could see what he was about to do to you in this holy sanctuary. Long before you could cover your chest, he already pinned your wrist on the side as he lowered the fabric to show your collar. “Sylus—!”

“Don’t be shy, kitten,” the whisper he sent through the shell of your ear caused shivers to your spine. With his heightened senses, he placed his mouth on your ear, “No one’s here to watch us except for your God. Be a good girl now.”

You tried to push him once more to no avail as he sucked on the flesh above your shoulder. There was no warning to prepare you from the sudden harsh suction. “I-It hurts!” 

Your nails dug into your palms to leave crescent marks on your flesh while you were squirming out of his strict hold. 

“It hurts? Good.” He continued to leave marks all over your flesh as he caged your waist around his arm. The feeling of his teeth pricking your skin had you whimpering in pain, and his eyes had grown rutilant when he momentarily pulled away to look at you. “You’ll hurt even more,” and then he erupted into a deep chuckle as if you were a meal that he was seasoning with a sprinkle of fear, “I should really just keep you for myself.” 

Your desire to breathe grew exponentially. “I’m not yours.” 

A low sneer and a dissatisfied ego had you pressed against the oak table in surprise. “Yes, you are,” he reiterated as though he was enforcing the idea in your head. “Your soul, your heart, your body—you are mine.” 

“I’m not! I wasn’t born in this world to be your property,” you protested, pulling away from his grip only to be slammed harsher on the table. You knew you should never anger a demon but his possessive nature irked you. Aside from your already shameful situation, you wanted nothing but to get away from him. “You’re evil.” 

“What makes you so brave? Your beliefs?” he gritted, reaching for an object near your head that turned out to be the Bible. “This?” he quickly opened the sacred handbook and ripped the pages in front of your very eyes with a distasteful smile. How easily he ripped it, how easily he also tossed it. “Whatever, then. There’s no God. You humans are complete idiots for worshiping a nonexistent being. Weren’t you the ones saying that I’d burn as soon as I stepped into a church?” 

“He is your father!” You sat back up, revolted by his blasphemy. He had no right to mock God like this. “Don’t taint my beliefs with yours. My faith in Him is stronger than you think.” 

“You should know what it’s like to be in hell before you say that shit,” he retorted, placing his lips back on your ear, “I’ll take you there with me.” 

This is not the time and place! What a shameful situation he was putting you through, so unbelievably shameful and obscene that you couldn’t look at him in the eyes. “Sylus, I swear. I’m going home if you’re gonna keep on—”

He huffed, showing boredom by dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “Ah, fine. You’re boring. Continue the prayer, then.”

For one of two things; first, Sylus would never let you off easily. Every act of defiance would garner you a punishment. Second, he was a time bomb. You never knew when his most cruel intentions would come to show. He was a malefic being that wouldn’t give two shits about where he was as long as he was having fun at torturing your soul. 

You should have known that when you chose to finish your prayer back at the pew. Sylus would simply not last long enough to just sit by your side in his apathy. 

“Holy Father, please forgive us for our sins—”

He snorted in ill-humor. “Pitiful.” 

And while you sat there looking up at the crucifix, Sylus’s hand was already sneaking its way under your skirt. His icy fingers traced your inner thighs until he reached your center, and that was when you finally grabbed his wrist to stop him with wide, scandalized eyes. Was anyone on the qui vive to see you right now? 

“Sylus, for heaven’s sake,” you hissed, pulling his wrist away but his slender fingers were already coordinating motions against your clothed core. You had to look around in panic lest there be any unknown audience peeking from the shadows. Despite your refusal to submit, the contact was eliciting suppressed moans out of your parted lips. “Y-You’re insane. This isn’t the place.” 

His smile was full of triumph and excitement, his right eye glowing ominously he spoke. “What makes it different?” he asked, raising your skirt and inserting his fingers inside your underwear. You had to press your lips together as soon as he started rubbing his fingers on your clit. “See, you enjoy the fuck out of it. I can see through your deepest desires, kitten. It’s telling me… ‘don’t stop’.” 

Your palm was pressed on his chest while his other hand tried to spread your legs open. The very position you were in—leaned on the wooden bench, legs spread apart, and being fingered in the presence of God—you were certainly going to hell. This was going against your belief, having your chastity corrupted in arrant disgrace by a man who was the devil himself. 

How exactly did you find yourself in this predicament? You came here to offer a quick prayer, not to be pressed on the bench by a man who was now unbuckling his belt in haste. You could only think of how Sylus, who was an angel beyond his demons, was perhaps trying to come out of being trapped in the dungeon where Satan had him caged.

“This is so wrong,” your lips quivered as you spoke, both of the curling of your toes and of the shameless sacrilegious act. You knew you couldn’t stop this no matter how hard you tried because Sylus would remain tenacious until he got what he wanted. 

With that, you fully submitted yourself to him and let the back of your head rest on the wooden surface while you stared at the stained glass that roofed the cathedral in different hues. 

Sylus was fast to display a smirk while positioning his hardened length on your entrance. The bands of your underwear were now resting mid-thigh as he pressed himself down on you with one knee supporting the angle of his hips. He was running his throbbing tip between your plump folds to lubricate himself with your slick. No screams could be released because you restrained your own whimpers, but your tears brimmed on the corner of your eyes from the initial penetration. 

“Ngh!” Your nails dug deep on his forearms. “S-Sylus!” 

“Are you crying?” His carmine eyes glinted of sadistic humor, running his gelid thumb across your lower lip only to sink it deep inside your mouth. “How does it feel knowing that the God you worship can’t save you?” 

A tear slid down from your eyes to your temple as Sylus started moving his hips in an achingly slow rhythm, each thrust going deeper than the last. You almost bit his thumb before he released your mouth by gripping your wrist. “Sylus—someone could see—!”

To your irony, the crucifix stared down at you and enkindled your conscience from this sinful act. Father, forgive me. You could only whisper those words in your head because your mouth was too occupied in crying out Sylus’s name.

“So warm.” It was hard not to think of how attracted he looked when he raked his fingers through his hair, later meeting your eyes with overpowering lust. He didn’t hold back at burying his cock into your cavern, allowing your walls to fit his girth like tight gloves—the feeling garnering his raspy grunt. “You’re mine, sweetie. All mine.” 

Sylus. You blinked your tears away as you closed your eyes. Sylus’s lips were now on your neck as he increased the pace of his member sliding in and out of your cunt with squelching noises that shamelessly echoed across the cathedral. “Sylus,” your lips were on his ear, “we’re in—aah—church.”

Unlike you, he was nonchalant about the sacredness of the house of God. He was mocking the supreme being that you held faith to as an act of engraving his existence into your mortal soul. While you restrained your moans as he slammed his pelvis against your hole, there was fulfillment rattling in his bones when he pressed your face to the side before diving in to suck on your sweet flesh.

“Cry more. Did you know your walls get warmer when you’re aroused?”

It was hard to describe the feeling. The median between pain and pleasure was the closest example you could liken it to. The grazing of his fangs added to the burning sensation that you had all over your body as if fire was ignited to light up all your nerves. 

Your hand latched onto his shirt before his body collapsed on top of you. With your legs spread wide, his head hung low on your neck—still and unmoving, strangely like he had fallen asleep. 

“Sylus.” You tapped his arm through the heavy rise and fall of your chest.

And before you could move away, he shot straight up and looked at you with those foxy incarnadine eyes that were now in the shade of deep crimson. Eyes that were wide and full of horror as he looked around the cathedral before he slowly realized what he had just done. 

“Y/N,” he said your name regretfully, pulling your dress down to cover your exposed parts, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I did this—? I don’t—” 

Long dried were the tears on your cheek. As you two scrambled to fix your clothes, you pulled him into a hug while he murmured endless sorry’s to your ear. At least, for now he was back. That was the most important thing with all the sanity you had left. 

“Just get me out of here, Sy,” you said, back into the arms of your human lover. 

~~

You’ve always wondered why Sylus often slept during the day. Or why his normal heartbeat was at the pace of someone who was having a heart attack. Or why he could get serious wounds but managed to heal himself fast. Sometimes he would disappear from your sight and transport himself into another. Sometimes he would see and hear things a thousand times clearer than any other person could. 

For almost a year of dating, these questions only came up to you without much of an answer. You thought that you were simply theorizing over things that you shouldn’t. Why does Sylus always wear that cross around his neck? At the back of your head, you were always intrigued. 

You didn’t find out about the real reason until two months ago when you finally met ‘Lucifer’ out of nowhere. If Sylus was Jekyll, Lucifer was his Hyde. It was his way to allow you to form a dissociation between the two beings in one body. 

You never believed in devils until Sylus showed his demonic face to you one night while you were supposedly peacefully sleeping. You recalled the screams that you released when you found out that Sylus was the fallen angel all along. That the rosary around his neck was meant to seal his dark side, the side that you still didn’t know much of. Up until this day, he didn’t provide a concrete answer as to why he needed to seal himself. He was taciturn about the topic of his other self despite you bringing it up every now and then. 

But because you loved him, trusted him, and believed him when he said that he didn’t plan to hurt you—you stayed. You knew his human side better than the monster within him, so you told yourself that you could stay for him. You just needed to learn more about him. 

There were still moments where you felt cautious around him, but when you looked to see his softened expression, you were comfortable at seeing the Sylus that you knew. 

“Y/N,” he broke the silence that lingered between you two as you walked around the city, “I’m sorry.” 

You tugged at his hand in reassurance. “It’s okay, I just...” As flashbacks of the earlier events returned to your head, you felt ashamed at having done such dirty deeds at a holy place. “He always gets what he wants.” 

Because you let him. 

“I can’t do anything when I’m trapped,” Sylus mumbled, keeping up with your footsteps as you strode along the street. 

Your curiosity bubbled from his statement. “What happens when he’s taking over?” 

This time, Sylus didn’t shy away from giving an answer while he interlaced his hand with yours. “I can hear everything, but I can’t feel or see. It’s all black, like I’m in a dark void.” 

“Like comatose?” 

“You could say that.”

How could a rosary seal his other self? How come he had two versions of him? 

“He’s obsessed with you,” he admitted, frowning at the thought as you passed rows and rows of boutiques and restaurants. “Your soul, your scent, your body. That’s probably why he always has the urge to come out.” 

The thought of it permeated heat on your cheeks even when it shouldn’t. Sylus had always been sweet and loving with his intimacy with you, but his other side was rough and sadistic. He liked tormenting your innocence with his immorality. 

“You said the rosary was meant to seal him, but how come he keeps on—”

“It doesn’t work these days. Only my father can help, but I don’t wanna go that far just to tell him about this.” 

Father. It was the first time he had ever spoken about his father in your twelve months together. Or did he mean father as in God? “Where’s your father, Sylus? Or the rest of your family? Are the other archangels roaming on Earth, too?” 

You could see it in his saintly face that he was about to give an answer and you anticipated it, not until the nearby catcalling distracted you two. 

“Nice legs, gorgeous,” whistled the man who was leaning by the street railings with a cigarette in his hand. The man was probably in his mid-40’s with disheveled hair and unshaved face. You sent him a glare but a crude wink was returned. 

“It’s a bit rude to ogle at my woman in front of me, don’t you think?” was Sylus’s warning, the tendrils of his black-red mist extending to surround the man.

You could hear the man hooting again, unaware of what would become of him. “Ha ha! You punk. I’d spread those legs in a heartbeat.” 

While Sylus’s eyes were deepening into a darker hue, you knew you couldn’t risk seeing him release his demonic side again. It was a dangerous gamble. And the city could become a bloodbath. So, in your insistence, you told your lover to just leave it be.

“Sylus, let it go,” you gently asked, tugging at his arm softly. You wanted to avoid confrontation and just continue walking with you until you could reach your destination. “It’s okay.”

~~

“Happy anniversary to my favorite couple!” 

The clinking of glasses was followed by cheers on the booth where your boyfriend and your friends sat together. It was Avery’s idea to celebrate the special day two days prior as an excuse to hang out and drink. Luke and Kieran, being Sylus’s minions, were very much willing to join. 

“It’s not until Wednesday,” Sylus corrected with a smile, sipping on his pint before putting an arm around you. He gestured towards Avery and Luke with a knowing look. “Now you two should date each other.” 

You giggled at the thought. “Yeah, I totally support that.” 

Instead, the two of them reacted heavily against it—faking a gag, making a face, name it all. They were adamant on showing how disgusted they were at the thought of dating each other and it was quite a hilarious sight to watch. 

“Boss, come on,” Luke replied in outward distaste. 

Avery, on one hand, was rolling her eyes. “You wish I was interested. I’d rather do Kieran than you.” 

Kieran was Luke’s twin, the less obnoxious and more empathic one. But when those two were combined, their level of mischief wasn’t really any different from each other. 

“Picking Kieran is the most insulting thing you can say to me,” huffed Luke, earning yours and Avery’s chuckle. 

After an exchange of playful banter and teasing remarks, the conversation was redirected back to you and Sylus as Avery curiously brought up how you first met your boyfriend. It was only a year ago and the memory was still vivid in your head. 

“Oh my God. I remember how Y/N first saw you at this auction,” she gushed towards your boyfriend while you blushed, gripping his arm closer, “and she’s acting like she just saw her soulmate.” 

Kieran decided to chime in, “Boss was looking at her too, though. He may look tough, but he’s a hopeless romantic deep down—”

“Enough,” Sylus warned before sipping on his glass. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and relaxed against him. “Next thing you guys know, we’re living together.” 

Frankly, everything was normal until Sylus showed up. 

“What do you like most about her, Sylus?” Avery egged on with a grin spreading on her face. 

Your boyfriend didn’t even take a second to answer, “She’s cute like a cat,” he said, caressing your hand with his thumb from under the table, “and smart, and caring. Can get spicy, too. It won’t end.” 

Sylus was the same, if not better. You didn’t have much experience when it came to dating, but you were surely on top of the luck department for being blessed with a man like him. He was the most protective person you knew, the most affectionate, the most thoughtful. Sylus was the moon that illuminated your dark nights. You could even remember how he would wait outside of your workplace to pick you up in his motorcycle—those were the little things that lasted for a lifetime in someone’s memory. 

“She’s also a nun.” 

The sudden panic in your eyes came simultaneous to the fast beating of your heart. You swiftly whipped your head to look at Sylus who was now displaying a deriding smirk across his pale face. Oh, were you doomed. The ruby eyes and the stony face was clear confirmation that the demon had taken over him. Twice in the same day. 

Even Avery was surprised by his word of choice, but nonetheless found it amusing as it was rare for them to see Sylus acting bold. You were grateful for her obliviousness because you didn’t know how else you could explain the situation at hand.

“She’s a what, boss-man?” Luke jeered, chugging on his pint and looking at his boss in his newfound entertainment. He was among the very few people that knew Sylus’s true nature. Because the twins were demons like him.

“A nun,” Sylus answered, sending a look of mischief your way. You were deeply panicking that you had to squeeze his hand in hopes of stopping him from showing his true colors. “What? Don’t be shy, kitten. Didn’t we have fun in that church?”

You quickly shook your head and denied it in front of your friends. “We didn’t. Don’t believe him.”

Avery was unbelievably taken aback. “Wow,” she held back a chuckle, “I didn’t know Sylus has a vulgar mouth.” 

~~

The night carried on while the downpour engulfed the streets heavily. Your desperation to leave the dinner earlier than intended was solely because you weren’t comfortable at having Sylus around other people. The man was clearly enjoying the embarrassment that he was putting you through. And you, you were only being cautious. Who knew what things he could do to Avery while in his other form? 

You didn’t want things to end up where Sylus would be ostracized by the people who knew him just because they couldn’t understand that he was completely harmless in his benevolent self. 

It took a lot of effort to finally make an excuse of getting home early while the skies have temporarily calmed down. However, as you two strolled across the street, Sylus wouldn’t stop blabbering on and on about how you should have stayed more to talk about how prudish you were. 

“I’m not in the mood right now,” you spoke in a detached voice, moving away from him as you walked together. Because you ruined it, you wanted to add. The cold breeze kissed your face through the dark. 

Sylus only moved closer to you. “You shouldn’t be so uptight,” he countered, “Is that how kittens should act? Or do I punish you back at home?”

Punishments. You didn’t wish to go through another round of his ‘punishments’ because you weren’t certain at how creative he could be at delivering them. There was no doubt that a man who traversed the ages would have seen enough torture devices used during the earlier times. Perhaps he could get inspiration from those. 

“I just wanna go home,” you muttered, almost inaudibly had his heightened hearing senses not worked. 

“Good, then I can have fun with y—” Sylus halted from his words as his face froze at the sight in front of him. His body had completely gone stiff and his jaws were clenched. You would have thought that he was angry until that evil upturn of his lips came to show. 

“Sylus...”

Following his sight, he was all eyes on a man from a distance before he dashed towards the stranger, leaving you utterly stupefied from where you stood. What’s he on about? You rushed as your heels landed in lightweight steps across the sidewalk while you watched in terror how Sylus mercilessly throttled the man by the neck and dragged him into a dark alleyway. 

“Sylus, stop!” 

As you reached him with a panting breath, you realized that the man he was holding high up against the wall was the same person that catcalled you earlier. The man was wriggling away from Sylus’s tight grip, only to be asphyxiated harsher than before. 

“Wh-What’s your problem?” The man struggled to breathe due to the strangulation and you were pulling Sylus’s other arm to stop him. 

At the sight of Sylus’s crimson eyes and vicious stance, you knew there was nothing much you could do to prevent harm. He was determined to do what he wanted without paying attention to his surroundings. 

“You’re fantasizing her, huh?” Sylus taunted with a sinister undertone in his words. “You wanna spread ‘em open?” 

Recalling the very words he spoke, the man saw you with frantic eyes as his face was reddening from the lack of oxygen. With a rushed shake of the head and a face that was begging for sympathy, he tried to break free. “N-No, no. She’s—haaa! She’s all yours.” 

“Sylus, stop it.” You grabbed his arms and attempted your best to pull him away despite the trepidation that caused you goosebumps. “Please stop, you’re gonna kill him.” 

Every time you saw this demonic creature, you were learning new things about him and most of those things were of the worst kind. Not only was he possessive—he was diabolical, potentially obsessive, and a cutthroat sadist who wouldn’t even blink before ending someone’s life. This was the true nature of a demon, not some silly fantasy that today’s pop-culture portrayed them to be. 

He was a body without a soul.

Unfortunately, you should have thought twice before choosing to get involved with him. 

“That’s my plan, sweetie.” 

[inkdrinkerworld]

more sensitive!reader x remus!! maybe she cries fairly easily and he’s always nice about it, but lightly teases her for it.

“It’s not like that, dovey.” Remus coos, trying very hard to keep amusement from leaking into his tone.

You’re in the bedroom, sitting on the floor doing your hair and trying very hard to ignore Remus.

You’ve been attempting to be where he wasn’t for the last couple hours after your nap. Remus has been refusing to let you get away with ignoring him since he caught onto it.

You made a coffee and he was right there, hid out on the patio with a book for all of ten minutes before he was joining you. You resulted to washing your hair with the bathroom door locked.

He still doesn’t let you ignore him now though. He needles his way between you and your mirror, sitting before you trying to get you to look at him.

“Dove,” he starts again, but you just roll your hair into a nice curl and pin it in place. It's hard work ignoring your boyfriend. Remus continues, his lips itching to form a smile as he watches you keep your eyes down as you section another bit of hair. “I was sleeping. I didn’t realise.”

You huff, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Your nose twitches with the force of the unshed tears. Even just the reminder of what he'd done makes you ache. Sure your boyfriend didn't realise, but your heart is a sensitive thing and you can't do much to help the tears that gather on your lash line.

“You turned away from me. And shoved my hand off your chest.” Okay, so maybe shove isn’t the right word. It was more like he turned away from you and your hand fell off his chest.

Still, hurt burns your throat and your chest and Remus would never laugh at you for that. He is amused to the highest degree, knowing you as well as he does, Remus should be allowed by whomever governs sleep to remain in one position all night to avoid making you cry.

“Baby,” he coos as the first tear tumbles down your cheek. “C’mere.” His arms don’t stay open for long, closing around your back and shoulders as you sit in his lap.

“You didn’t even turn back over. It was so cold.” His cheeks pull a little, corners of his lips turning up. Remus has to sigh to dispel the first little chuckle that wants to escape him.

You'd been without him for all of five minutes because he'd woken up soon after to you looking at him with betrayal in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, my love,” his hand coasts up and down your back, taking care not to get his fingers tangled in the hair on your shoulders. “Can I do anything to make you feel better?”

Despite his amusement, Remus does want to make you feel better. He genuinely can't stand seeing the tears in your eyes, no matter how adorable you look with your pout.

“Kiss?” Remus laughs then, cupping your cheeks when you try tucking your chin to hide your face again.

“You’re fucking precious.” He murmurs just before pressing your lips together, only a hint of your tears linger on your cupids bow. "My tenderhearted girl." he gives you another kiss and wipes the tears still making their way down your cheeks.

[luvtak]

mr. sandman, bring me a dream

✧ pairing 7 dream x reader

✧ genre/tw fluff fluffy fluff fluff, what i think dating them would be like <3 an embarrassing amount of run-on sentences i'm sure.... the dreamies being the most perfect boyfriends to exist, mostly unedited

✧ w/c 2293 (about 300 words each!!)

✧ a/n back to my roots writing for nct... also,,, not the dreamies being my ult group but my last group to do these headcanons for :/ i have so much fun writing these little ideas and dreams about them let me know if you want more!

MARK truly the definition of wrapped around your finger… tells everyone about you every day of his life. Smiles at everything you say and calls you the cutest names. Makes sure everyone knows that you’re taken for life–no ifs about it. Tells you about his whole day, down to the most unimportant details. Kisses you all around your face and gets red seeing you so flustered. Constantly saying the worst pickup lines. Always always makes time for you even with his busy schedule. Talks to your family on the phone and becomes best friends with your siblings. Lets you win during video games and pretends that you’re just so much better than him. Never comes empty-handed–if you invite him over he’s bringing some sort of present he can’t help it. Wraps you up in at least three layers when it looks a little cold outside. Starts bringing up ideas for a Halloween couple’s costume in January. Celebrates your birthdays and accomplishments like his own. Holds you close to him in any moment of rest, the members are around? He’s only bringing you in closer. I’m sorry to say this, but he is definitely one of those people who refer to you as a “we”... “we watched that movie last week!” or “sorry, we can’t come, we have plans.” Would never even think about fighting with you and when it can’t be avoided, he is always the first to apologize. Walks around draped over you, his neck falling onto your shoulder and clumsily shuffling you along. Steals your phone to take silly pictures of himself, and you end up having 500 selfies of Mark making the same five kissy faces. Fixes your clothes/jewelry/hair as the day takes its toll. Kisses your wrist whenever you hold hands. Lovely and forever committed to giving you the sweetest existence possible.

RENJUN  My angel boy<3 would be the most loving boyfriend if you’re able to get past him giving you sm attitude. Lovingly scolds you 24/7 365. Pouts if you don’t say you love him back or forget to kiss him before you leave. Steals your sweaters and jewelry. Makes you laugh so hard you cry, then kisses the tears away. Has the worst case of cute aggression when he see’s you like he can’t help but take a bite out of you. Whenever you ask him to do something he’ll roll his eyes and scoff but still gets up to do it anyway. Says your name so sweetly and with so much love it could be a term of endearment. Sings to you when you’re sad. Holds you so tight when you sleep, like he could absorb you into his own skin. Carries a picture of you in his wallet everywhere he goes. Gets genuinely annoyed when other people know something about you that he didn’t–wants to know everything, especially the embarrassing stuff. Acts of service king, does things for you and expects nothing but a kiss in return. Gives you the first bite of his food. Forehead kisses 100% of the time. Extremely tenderhearted, wants to be loved and love in return with nothing holding him back. Knows your schedule down to a T. Shakes his head at every joke you tell, but still grants you a laugh. Kisses you slowly and earnestly even if theres people around. Drops the most earth-shattering confessions of love at random moments and just expects you to move on. Matching accessories are a must!! And he will be ready to break up if your forget it one day (we have seen how he is with the dreamies friendship rings). Wraps himself completely around you when no one is around, and stays that way until one of you has to get up. Loves completely and wholeheartedly and is a perfect perfect boy. 

JENO Shy and perpetually flustered, cannot believe he got you fr. Alternates between the cockiest boy you’ve ever met and the most oblivious creature around. Is so in awe of you, cannot get over you choosing him. A big baby of a boyfriend. Body slouched over yours at all times. Tells everyone it isn’t obvious how unbelievably whipped he is for you than giggles when you call him a pet name. Loves when you fawn over him lol, would feel so good about himself when you laugh at his jokes or wear an outfit because he said you looked pretty in it. Definitely the kind of boy who gets you a necklace with his initials on it. Is somehow even more smiley when you’re around. His love language is 100% acts of service–helping you with chores and making dinner, he desperately wants to wash your hair and help take your makeup off. Always takes you home himself and makes you call him before you go to bed. Kisses you all over when you’re sad and squeezes you so tight you can’t breathe. Puts his lips right over your ear and whispers so you can hear him in loud places, sometimes telling terrible jokes to see you laugh. Constantly on the phone with you–will get yelled at by his members and staff to focus on his schedule. Takes you on long drives and lets you have the aux the whole time, smiles even when he hates the song.  Snuggles up to you and has you in an iron grip all night; wakes up periodically to tell you to stop wiggling. Literally a broken record of “oh my s/o would like this!” and “you would never believe what my s/o told me…” Tucks you into his sweater when you’re cold and always carries extra clothes because he knows you’ll forget. Could never hide his feelings for you, it’s written all over–hairbands and your favorite snacks in his cabinets. Is so so so in love with you, and would never even think about being embarrassed of it. <3

HAECHAN Sweet as cherry pie. Silly and charming and the kindest boy you know. Lives his life attached to you, hands on your hips and kisses pressed everywhere he can reach. Never goes a day without telling you he loves you in the most sickeningly sweet ways possible. Listens to every word you say, goes as far as telling other people to be quiet so he can hear you better. Serenades you with the most obnoxious renditions of love songs and coos when you make faces at him. Teases you endlessly–tickles and jokes and ridiculous nicknames, but would never let anyone else make a joke at your expense. Sleeps fully on top of you, head pressed under your chin and hands slipped under your sleep shirt. Celebrates you and your relationship with all of him, always the loudest voice singing happy birthday and the prettiest flowers congratulating you for an achievement at work or school. Speaks to you so softly and with so much compassion you almost get whiplash when you see him around the dreamies. Brings home sweet treats and little keepsakes from his day out. Will watch a movie or listen to a new song and note all the parts you’d like so he can play it for you later and speak to you about it. Unbelievably protective, not in a toxic way, but he wants so much to be able to take care of you and keep you safe–hand pressed on your back while you walk through crowds, and his hand protecting you from hitting your head as you get in the car. Has lists of important days in his notes app, cataloging gifts he could get you and your order at all your favorite restaurants. The perfect silly boyfriend, caring and lovely and everything you need

JAEMIN Marry this man. Has been committed and steadfast in his dedication to you since you met. Extremely serious when it comes to your heart and your feelings. The first to say I love you or to apologize after a fight–would never raise his voice at you or say things he didn’t mean. Is always feeding you, either a complete meal that took him an hour to make or the most perfect bowl of ramyeon you’ve ever had. Constantly sending you pictures of the cats. LOVES pda–kisses you in front of everyone and laughs when they groan, cuddles with you on the practice room couch, and rolls his eyes when the dreamies gag. Always kisses you with soft hands on your cheeks and the prettiest smile. Buys you a keepsake from everywhere they go on tour and gives it to you in a huge suitcase and will not feel ashamed in the slightest. Somehow finds out how to bring you up in every conversation, “oh they really like this song” or “thats actually their favorite movie you know…” you would truly never have to worry about anything with this man, he’s gonna take care of everything, a future airport dad if i’ve ever seen one. Sends tiktoks of cute animals and pouts if you don’t like them right away. Buys you silly sweatshirts and phonecases and demands you wear them proudly as a symbol of his everlasting love. Out of all of the boys, I feel like he is the most likely to give you a promise ring, and in my heart, I know he would have his name engraved on the inside–a quiet confession only the two of you know about. Sleeps directly on top of you, I just know it… holds onto you in every crowd. So many conversations between little kisses and I love yous. Always carries your things, whether it be a bag or shoes that got too uncomfortable his hands are open and ready whenever you need them. The most perfect boy in the world, and whose surprised? 

CHENLE truly your best friend in the entire world, f2l in its entirety… would roast you every minute of every day but if anyone else even dared he is shutting that shit down right away. His arm has a permanent residence on your waist. Giggles at you when you’re annoyed at him but apologizes anyway. Makes you watch him play basketball at 11 pm and laughs when you say you're cold and sleepy, but takes you home right away. Will kiss you in front of anyone–loves it when you get all shy and flustered. Always trying to give you expensive presents and rolling his eyes when you tell him to reign it in. dog dates with Daegal!!! Talks about you so causally that the dreamies didn’t realize you were his girlfriend until he kissed you goodbye, and they were all so dumbfounded. Will watch anything if you like it and will tell you it sucked with a smile on his face before kissing you as an apology. Huge bouquets for any anniversary or birthday. Wraps his arms around you and rocks you around, whispering sweet words that he’d deny if you told anyone about. Stares at you 24/7 and gives you his 100-watt smile. Goes out of his way to help you–buys your groceries, helps wash your hair, picks you up, and takes you wherever you need to go–but always denies it. Begs you to wear his clothes, bonus points if it’s something that has his name on it, or some nct merch. Has an iron grip on your hand at any given point and giggles when you try to get free. Will listen to literally anything you tell him. Smiles into kisses and sighs when you pull away. Is so domestic and lovely in everything he does, even if sometimes he is the biggest menace. 

JISUNG so so so shy, truly does not know how to have a s/o in public lmao. When you’re alone he’s the cutest most confident boy in the world but as soon as there is another person around he does not know you. He makes it obvious that it's just because he’s awkward, but sometimes you definitely do have to tell him to stop being a weirdo and to hold your hand. Constantly makes fun of people with you and is always ready to hear some hot goss. Is always listening to you–even if everyone in the room is talking over you, he will be looking at you with his full attention and urging you to go on. Laughs at everything you say even if it's not funny. Kisses your cheek every morning first thing, and thinks you look so cute cuddled up into the covers. Piggy-backs you everywhere: you drank a little too much or it's too early… up you go! You being comfortable and happy is his priority in any situation, and if anyone including himself is disrupting that he is dealing with it immediately. Whether that means complaining to one of hyungs to help him or going straight to the source of the issue, he’s going to try and help you, even if it’s not like him to speak up for himself–you’re the most important thing to him. Tries to teach you nct dances and gets unbearable secondhand embarrassment when he sees you mess up. Almost exposes your relationship once a month. Is wrapped around you every single moment you’re alone, even if it’s just for a second–someone leaves the room? Jisung is suddenly fully enveloping you. Thinks pda is so embarrassing but would try so hard to be more openly affectionate with you. Blushes to his roots when you sweet talk him no matter how long you’ve been together. Kisses your hands when it’s cold outside and wouldn’t even think about giving you anything of his if you needed it. The sweetest, shyest boy, and so wonderful–loving him and being loved in return would be the loveliest gift.

© LUVTAK

[moonstruckme]

hey! could i request a james potter x reader fic pls?? i have been thinking about him specifically non stop and now i just wanna be domestic and cute with him-

Me too lovely :')

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 661 words

You’ve told James that you’re painting your toenails on the kitchen counter because it has good light, but he knows it’s really because you want to be near him. He’ll have to clean the counter again after you go, but he’s not complaining. He wants you near him too. 

And anyway, the kitchen does have good light. It streams in through the window to tangle in your hair and glance off your skin, illuminating the concentrated set to your mouth as you bend over your foot on the counter. 

James kisses you lightly, and one corner of your lips quirks up like you’re trying to stop it but can’t quite manage. You taste sweet and a bit tart. 

“Don’t mess me up,” you warn. “This is my last coat, it’s do or die.” 

“Stop eating my blackberries,” he counters, “and we’ll see. No promises.” 

You finish with your nails, setting the brush back in the polish and nabbing another blackberry from his bowl. James gasps, betrayed though not surprised. He pinches your side.

You laugh, leaning away from him fruitlessly. “Stop, I’m going to knock polish onto the rug!”

“You could at least vary your snacking,” James says. “My fruit salad is going to have hundreds of pieces of melon and two blackberries if you keep on like this.” 

“I just like blackberries best.” 

“So does Remus,” he chides with no real severity. “And when he gets here later today and they’re all gone, who do you think will be blamed?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, smiling angelically. “He doesn’t need to know there were going to be blackberries in here to begin with, does he?” you ask. The hope in your voice sparkles like sunshine off the ocean. 

James caves instantly at that tone, but he pretends to take at least a second to mull it over before capitulating. “Fair enough. Have at them, lovie. Leave no trace.” 

You descend like a hawk upon your prey, clawing through the bowl of fruit and popping blackberry after blackberry into your mouth. 

“I’m thinking of going to the store in a bit,” you say. 

James grins down at his cutting board, slicing the skin off a wedge of cantaloupe. “To replenish Remus’ blackberry supply?” he asks. He knows you’re too tenderhearted to truly rob his friend of something he enjoys; you’d be racked with guilt for the rest of the night. 

“To get lemons for lemonade.” You touch your big toe delicately, testing the dryness of your polish. “And if I stumble upon blackberries that look good while I’m there…” You shrug, turning away from him like you think you can hide your smile. As if he can’t hear it in your voice. “Then maybe I’ll grab some. To keep the peace.” 

James reaches over and grips your foot, channeling as much love as he can fit into a good squeeze. You gasp and nearly shriek when his thumb digs into a ticklish spot on your arch, grabbing onto his shoulder to keep from tipping off the counter. He sets a hand on your side to help, and he can feel your ribs shaking as you laugh. 

“Sorry, sorry,” James laughs. “I forgot about that spot.” He didn’t. “Wait for me to finish and we’ll go together, yeah?” 

Your nose scrunches with your smile. “Why, you wanna keep an eye on the blackberries?” 

“I was thinking we’d just get extra,” he proposes. 

You hum contentedly, and he takes the invitation to get further into your space, his hip bumping against your leg. “That’s very chivalrous of you,” you reply, your teasing softened by fondness. 

“Well, I do try. Pretty girls need to be kept happy, yeah?” 

You laugh again, grabbing James’ face in both hands. He knows when you let go, there’ll be sticky purple fingerprints on both of his cheeks. He doesn’t mind. 

“Flirt,” you accuse. 

James pushes forward until his nose is pressed up against yours. “Only for you.” 

[burrowlvrr]

— ANXIOUS VICTORY, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Y/N has her mind set on attending Joe's game with their three year old twins, Hudson and Elijah, but Joe has his worries due to her blossoming pregnancy.

NOTE: Fair warning, this is kind of long because I enjoy reading long stories/imagines. Feedback is appreciated as well as your support. I apologize for any spelling errors or mistakes. Feel free to send me more ideas and suggestions, enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

The Burrow home was warm, dimly lit, and smelled of tomato sauce. Joe and Y/N's three year old twins, Hudson and Elijah, were sprawled out on their living room rug, scribbling away in their new Paw Patrol coloring books. Y/N was washing a few more dishes as she waited for the garlic bread in the oven, and Joe was setting the table as he usually did to help his wife. He had just placed the twins' booster seats on their plush dining chairs as the oven began to beep — indicating that it was time for him to rush to the kitchen, so he could get the bread out of the oven before Y/N. He entered the kitchen just in time, seeing his wife bent over sliding an oven mitt on her hand.

"No, ma'am." He spoke, placing his right hand on the small of her back. "I'll do it."

Y/N straightened her back, smiling at the blonde man as she slid the oven mitt off of her hand. "I'm perfectly capable of grabbing a pan of breadsticks, honey." She said, earning a small chuckle from her husband.

"I know, mama." He took the oven mitt from her, moving it onto his much larger hand. "I just wanna make sure you don't strain yourself too much." The volume of his voice descended as he bent over, and quickly opened the oven before removing the fresh breadsticks from it. Y/N couldn't help but blush from how considerate her husband was, how he always had been. He was the exact same level of protective when she was pregnant with Hudson and Elijah, only he was much more anxious because they were the first pregnancy.

"I'll fix all of our plates." He placed the pan on the counter, throwing the oven mitt to the side. "You go grab the monsters. The food'll be on the table when you get back." He finished, placing a quick kiss to her forehead before she turned and exited the kitchen.

Waddling into the dimly lit living room, she slowly crouched down to her children's level. "Hi, mama." Hudson chirped. "Hey, mommy!" Elijah cheesed, both of them looking up from their coloring books for the first time in over ten minutes.

"Hey, champs." She ran a hand over their unruly blonde curls, "Are you guys hungry? Daddy is getting your favorite ready."

Their little blue eyes immediately widened in excitement, lifting up from their stomachs to their feet. "Sketti?" He showed his bright teeth as he looked at his mother, Elijah put a hand on his head, looking up at the ceiling with a groan.

"Ugh! We always have sketti, guys!" Y/N giggled at Hudson's excitement and Elijah's annoyance before nodding her head. "Yeah. Sorry, buddy. Sketti is really good and easy for mommy to make." Elijah crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk, giving his mother a knowing look.

"We have to clean up our mess before we eat, though. Okay?" Y/N said, her boys seemingly standing at attention now.

They nodded their heads. "Yes, ma'am!" They chirped, plopping down to their knees. Hudson grabbed their coloring books and neatly stacked them on the table, while Elijah quickly threw their crayons into a large pencil box. He closed the lid before Hudson threw their coloring books on top, grabbing it and sliding it on the table next to their long couch. "All done!" Y/N smiled brightly at her boys, feeling her heart swell with joy knowing how well her and Joe had been raising their boys.

She took her time to rise to her feet, being mindful of her big belly. Once she stood up straight, her boys reached out for her hand and began leading her into the dining room. Joe's face lit up seeing his favorite people, the twins released their mother's hand before running to their father's side instead. "Hey, dudes!" Joe smiled, placing the final plate down on the table and engulfing his sons into a tight hug. "You guys ready to eat?"

Y/N smiled as the boys vigorously nodded their heads. Joe placed them in their booster seats one at a time, where they immediately picked up their small forks and shoveled noodles into their mouths. Joe pulled his wife's chair out as usual, rubbing her shoulder gently once she sat down. "Thank you." She said, placing her napkin on her thigh.

The dining room was consumed by the quiet. The only noise being the scraping of forks on the plates, and the exaggerated slurping sound from the twins eating their dinner. Dinner always went this way, the first few minutes are quiet, then once Y/N starts slowly becoming full she breaks the silence. She finished chewing her garlic bread, wiping her mouth with her napkin before placing it down on the table. Her eyes sparked with enthusiasm, "Guess what, honey? The boys and I were thinking of coming to your game this weekend!"

Joe with a mouthful of spaghetti noodles, glanced over at their lively toddlers, and couldn't help but feel a wave of concern. "You sure about that, babe? The game can get pretty chaotic, especially with the boys being so energetic, and, well, you being pregnant." He said, his tone laced with concern as he spoke.

His wife only smiled, her eyes reflecting her determination. "I know it might be a lot, but they love watching you play, and I want them to experience that excitement. Plus, the baby can hear the crowd cheering, right?" She suggested. She was right, if they went, it would be her and the twins' first game in a while due to her pregnancy's waves of sickness. She had been feeling great all week, and had been itching to see Joe in action on the field.

Joe sighed as he placed his fork down, torn between wanting his family there and worrying about their well-being. "I just don't want it to be too much for you." He looked at his wife, "The stadium can get pretty loud, and the boys are two big bundles of energy."

Look, Y/N was pregnant, almost a week past her five month mark. Her belly wasn't huge, but it most definitely wasn't little either. She had been sick for most of the pregnancy so far, and sometimes between the pain it was fairly easy for her to become aggravated. Joe was very understanding in those times, and was always sweet to her no matter her attitude. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I appreciate your concern, Joe, but we can handle it."

Hudson, completely oblivious to the conversation, was busy playing with his food. While Elijah was occasionally mimicking the cheers of a football crowd. As the dinner conversation continued, Joe could sense Y/N's irritation slowly rising even though she was doing pretty well at containing it. "I don't know, babe. Can I just think about it a bit more?" He asked genuinely, looking toward his wife with brooding eyes.

She forced a small smile as she huffed out her nose, "Yeah, sure." She replied, standing from her seat and gathering her plate and silverware. "I think I'm gonna take a bubble bath. Can you put the boys to bed?"

Joe nodded, eyeing his wife's body language as she walked into the kitchen to put her dishes away. She came back into the dining room, placing a kiss on Hudson and Elijah's tomato splattered cheeks before making her way up the stairs. She didn't look at Joe again, letting him know that she truly was irritated with him now and he would have to smooth things over before bed.

He looked toward his twins with a smile, "You full?"

★

Y/N took her time in the bathtub. She felt guilty about leaving dinner abruptly, but she knew Joe would come around, even if it took just a little bit of time. Although she didn't feel up for a conversation right now, she wished Joe would come upstairs already because she hated being upset with him. That was really the only downside of her pregnancy, she was always so emotional and found herself getting irritated with her husband much easier. She finally decided to step out of the bathtub, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body.

Joe figured Y/N wanted to be alone for a bit longer, so once he had the boys sound asleep in their race car shaped beds, he went back downstairs and cleaned up the mess left behind by dinner. Y/N had just slipped out of the bathroom, when Joe quietly shut the door to their shared bedroom. He almost winced as he watched his wife walk right past him, grabbing some clothes before going back into their bathroom.

He sat down at the foot of their bed, thinking about how he should approach his wife on the soft topic. Once he had an idea, he untucked their sheets, set his alarms and turned on their bedside lamp. Trading his sweater and jeans for a pair of sweatpants, he made his way over to the bathroom door. He hesitated for a moment, before lifting his hand to softly knock on the door. "Y/N, can I come in, please?"

He heard a faint response, slowly opening the door to find his wife standing at the sink, applying a lotion to her under eyes. He took a moment to examine her features, a look of frustration and hurt was on her face. "I didn't mean to upset you and I'm sorry if it came across in the wrong way." Joe began, his voice filled with remorse. "I just worry about you guys at the game."

Y/N turned to face Joe, seeing the look of guilt and worry on his face. "I know, I just feel like you don't want us there or something." She tried to hush the last part of her sentence, but Joe heard her loud and clear. He could tell by the way her bottom lip began to puff out, she was slowly getting closer to a breakdown. He instantly brought his hands to her cheeks, running his thumbs over her under eyes. "I thought we were supposed to share these moments as a f—family." She stuttered, and her vision blurred from the tears that began to burn her eyes. Her pregnancy was effecting her emotions more than ever right now, and that alone was irritating her more than Joe.

"That's the last thing that I want." Joe said, "I'm just really worried, that's all." Y/N nodded her head, feeling a wave of defeat wash over her body. She nodded her head slowly, as she reached up to remove Joe's hands from her face. "Okay, honey."

Joe felt so guilty, hesitated before he decided to speak up again. He reached Y/N's hand before she could grab the door knob, "Hold up, you gotta let me finish." He said, causing his wife to look up at him with tired eyes. "Maybe it's just my nerves talking. I want you and the boys there more than anything. You just gotta promise me you'll take it easy, okay? Don't go all wifey-bear if I get sacked and scream so loud you lose your voice." Her eyes instantly lit up, she stood up straight to adjust her slouching shoulders.

"You know I can't promise that, Joey." She joked, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I won't do too much screaming, I don't wanna scare my boys just yet." Joe could see how her mood had already changed, a warm smile of his own forming on his face.

"I'll bring them some ear protection, and I'll even keep your parents on speed dial if I need anything." She reassured his worries, a wave of relief washing over his features as he swept a few stray curls from her forehead. He rested his hand on her cheek, looking into her eyes lovingly. "Okay, mama." He whispered, licking his lips as his eyes grazed over her whole face.

Y/N noticed the way he wet his bottom lip, "Just gonna keep starin' at me, or are you gonna kiss me?" She teased, looking up at her much taller husband. Joe didn't think twice before placing a soft kiss to his wife's lips, pulling away much quicker than she wanted him to. He peeled back with a smirk, leaning over her shoulder to open to bathroom door. "Let's get some sleep."

He helped her into their large bed, throwing the blankets over her, she instantly pulled them up to her chin. Joe made his way to his respective side of the bed, sliding in the sheets beside his wife, who mindlessly scooted closer to him and laid her head on his chest. "I'm sorry for blowing that whole thing out of proportion." She apologized, tracing shapes onto her husband's chest.

Joe shook his head, rubbing circles on her shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. Just because you're pregnant, doesn't mean you can't make your own decisions. I failed to recognize that. I'm sorry, baby." Joe apologized right back, causing his wife to look up at him with a remorseful expression on her face.

"It's alright, Joey. I get that you were just worried." She responded, moving her ring clad hand to his cheek, rubbing the stubble that he knew she loved so much. "I promise you, Hudson and Elijah are gonna have so much fun, it'll all be so worth it." Joe smiled warmly, thinking of the smile that will never leave their faces once they're at the game. It's not like it would be their first game, it'll just be their first one since their mom found out she was pregnant with their younger sibling.

"I know." Joe replied, watching as his wife's eyes clearly began to get heavier to hold open. He grabbed her hand from his cheek, moving it to his lips before kissing her palm. "Goodnight, mama. I love you."

"Goodnight, Joey. I love you more."

★

The stadium buzzed with anticipation as the Bengals star quarterback prepared for the upcoming game. A subtle layer of worry masked his usual game-day focus, even after the conversations he'd had with his wife a few nights before. His five month pregnant wife, Y/N, and their wildly energetic three year old boys, Hudson and Elijah, were attending the game tonight.

Joe paced nervously around the locker room, glancing at his phone for any updates. The last time Y/N had texted him was the let him know they were getting snacks first, seeing as she didn't want to be up and around much during the game. He couldn't shake the concern about any potential challenges of having his family amidst the excitement of a football game.

"Everything okay, Joe?" Tee Higgins inquired, noticing the furrowed brow. He chewed a piece of bubblegum harshly, cocking his head to the side to look at his quarterback.

"Yeah, just a bit worried. Y/N's pregnant and the boys can be quite the handful. I want them to enjoy the game, but it's chaotic out there." Joe admitted.

His teammate, understanding the delicate balance between family and the intensity of the game, offered a reassuring nod. "They'll be fine. Your family is strong, just like you, man."

Just then, their coach gathered all their attention and Joe quickly thanked Tee for his understanding before grabbing his helmet.

As game time approached, Joe couldn't help but steal glances at the stands. When he spotted Y/N, her baby bump noticeable, with Hudson and Elijah, wide-eyed with excitement, a mix of anxiety and joy flooded their emotions. They both wore some ear protection that looked like it could weigh their head down if they leaned to one side, he smiled seeing his wife's hand raise in the air to give him an excited wave.

Y/N watched the whole game on the edge of her seat, occasionally standing up despite her best efforts to stay seated — trying her best to follow Joe's safety requests. Hudson's smile never fell, he was screaming louder than anyone in their section for his father. Elijah clapped in excitement, looking over at his mother and pointing to his father every three or so minutes. They had been to a few games before, but they were a little older and had a better understanding of the sport. They were already talking about playing it once they started school next year.

Y/N clapped her hands loudly as halftime finally approached, she knew Joe would be over there soon. Not even ten minutes later, her blue eyed husband was standing in front of them on the sidelines. "Hey, you guys okay?" he greeted, a touch of concern in his eyes.

"We're doing great, honey. And so are you." Y/N smiled, reaching her hand down to touch Joe's. Joe smiled widely, relieved to know that his family was enjoying themselves. Hudson and Elijah, both bouncing with enthusiasm, chimed in, "Daddy, did you see us? We waved at you!"

Joe's worry melted into a grin. "I saw, guys!" He reached up high to touch both of his son's heads. "That's awesome. Just make sure you're having fun, okay? And both of you be good for mama!"

Due to his coach's demands, Joe had to jog to the locker room after their interaction. Y/N, Hudson and Elijah waved him goodbye and took their seats until the second half.

As the game progressed, Joe felt a newfound motivation fueled by the presence of his family. Y/N, attuned to his emotions, whispered words of encouragement, both calming and inspiring. Meanwhile, Hudson and Elijah's cheers echoed through the stadium, each one a source of pride for his quarterback father. The Bengals came out on top, the game ending with a touchdown made by a pass from Joe. After the game, Y/N grabbed all of their belongings and both of her sons hands, being careful as they went up and down steps. They stood outside the locker room as she'd done since her and Joe began dating in college, both her and her boys bouncing with anticipation for the man to come out to them.

Once he emerged from the locker room, he swung his bag to his back, took Hudson onto his hip and hugged his wife with one arm around her neck. Y/N held Elijah on her hip as well. "You guys made this win even sweeter. Thanks for being here." he said, genuine gratitude in his eyes.

Y/N hugged him tightly, "We wouldn't miss it for the world. We're your biggest fans, no matter the chaos." She raised a hand to rank through his blonde hair, tears prickling in her eyes. They weren't tears of sadness or fear, just tears of pure happiness.

As they left the stadium, the Burrow family walked hand in hand, the worries of the game day transformed into a cherished memory. In that moment, Joe realized that having his wife and sons by his side added a layer of joy and support that went beyond the triumphs on the field. They were a team, weathering the excitement and challenges together, creating a bond that extended far beyond the football game.

[cherryslyce]

Familial Impasses | Regulus Black

Synopsis: Pressure arises as a familiar face becomes embroiled in political trouble and moral ambivalence. Alternatively: As James Potter’s younger sibling, you fight for Regulus.

Pairing: Regulus Black x (Adopted) Potter!Reader

Notes + WC: 5.4k , James and Sirius are so chaotic.

The Potter household has long been a foundational pillar of love and ease for you. Plumes of cotton clouds were perpetually suspended above the sumptuous manor, and you distinctly remember the day you arrived in front of the regal front yard, donning new robes and the Potter surname. 

Even amidst the gloomiest of days, Potter Manor remained unblemished by the sheen of greys and drops of heavy rain. Your parents were tenderhearted folk, often unable to properly reign in the boisterous force that was your brother. James was the apple of your eye when you first arrived in the lived-in home at the ripe age of eight. 

Under the near-yellow lights of the entryway, he took you under his wing the second his eyes befell on yours. 

Yet, your reminiscing did little to quell the fiery frustration that singed at your patience. After so many years of tumultuous adventures and shared laughter, you felt everything drown away as the forefront of your mind became consumed by the imperious demands he was layering onto you. 

“James. You are being absolutely ridiculous right now, do you know that?” You huff out, arms crossed as you stare hotly ahead. 

Sirius is settled beside your brother, eyebrows drawn together as an uncharacteristically firm frown decorates his face. James clicks his tongue and pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to catch your eyes, “Y/N, we’re being serious here. Siri and I are graduating soon and we won’t be able to look out for you when we’re gone.” 

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” You mused stubbornly, fixating your gaze on the sprigs of tulips peeking at you from the polished coffee table. “Besides, what the hell are you even protecting me from? Regulus? He would never harm me.” 

“You don’t know that.” Sirius interjects, hands rubbing together as James shoots you an admonishing look. 

Astonished by the field of conversation, you shake your head as you finally face the two boys, “Sirius, this is your brother we’re talking about! Merlin, if anyone said anything like this about me, you’d both have their head, would you not?” Your narrowed eyes dart towards Sirius as he sighs, placing his hand up to placate you. 

“It’s different, Y/N. Regulus is going to take up my father’s mantle soon, and there’s no doubt that he’s already been brainwashed into following the Dark Lord.” Sirius mumbles, face now looking weary as he gazes out of the window behind you. 

You bite the inside of your cheek at the mention of the Dark Lord, aware that Regulus had been researching the man for a few months now. Internally, you found solid reason to believe in what your brother was advocating, but your longstanding friendship with Regulus turned you away from the decision to abandon him. 

“I’m not going to stop being friends with him.” You announce, eyebrow slanting up as Sirius made an effort to protest your proclamation. “But, if it eases your worries, we’ll strictly talk about school work.” 

James and Sirius share a long look of consideration before your brother turns to you and sighs, “Fine, but we won’t like it.” His acquiesce fills you with tepid relief, but you could count it as a temporary victory. 

In the stirring waves of your mind, you were completely aware that you’d make little effort to actually change your dynamic with the younger Black brother, knowing that the boy was much more capable of independent thinking than given credit for. 

The remainder of your Yule Break is spent buried in swaths of parchments and tomes with the occasional migraine from James’ antics. A cavernous pit materialized in your chest as you seemed to gradually wither away from stress, mind carouseling around the plethora of O.W.L. exams you needed to study for. 

On the penultimate day before you, James, and Sirius were due to return to Hogwarts, a familiar black-banded owl came fluttering to your bedroom window. Clambering around the strewn leaflets of paper and open textbooks on your floor, you gaily greet the owl with a wide grin, gently grasping at the letter between its beak. 

“It’s always nice to see you, Belenus.” You coo at the perceptive bird. 

Cracking your window open further, you muffle an amused huff as the owl teeters through, resting straightly on your windowsill as it examines the disarray of your room.

“Er, it’s been a long day.” You wave in elaboration, not perturbed by the near judgemental look that flashes across the bird’s eyes. “Did Reggie ask you to wait for my reply? The lack of patience in that boy, I swear.” 

Sitting down at your dimly-lit desk, you carefully unfurl the letter with trembling hands, heart skipping at the sight of the boy’s penmanship.  

Dear Y/N, 

I hope that everything is well for you. It is a shame that we are not able to convene before the end of break, however, I will give you your gift when we get back to the castle. I hope that Sirius is not giving you too much trouble, mother and father were never able to control his rambunctious behavior. However, he strangely settles after a cup of peppermint tea (his favorite brand is Lady Bramble’s).  

I know you are brimming with anxiety from our last conversation, and for that, I deeply apologize. You will be pleased to know that I have given it much thought as per my promise to you, and I think we should talk more about it when we get back. I have not yet made any permanent decisions. 

I have much to tell you after break. I miss you dearly.  

R.A.B

You suppress a smile at the last few words, head feeling light with unadulterated joy. Threading together inklings of composure, you sit up straight and begin to draft your response, fingers unsteady with shreds of nervousness. 

Reggie, 

The week has been long and difficult without you, I must admit. I hope you are faring better than me with your homework (I fear that I may not make it). James and Sirius pulled me aside a few days ago to advise me against remaining friends with you. It is growing dire, Reg. I don’t want to sour this exchange by rehashing our last conversation, but I want you to know that even though my love and loyalty for you runs deep, I am unwavering in my stance against You-Know-Who. 

If you are giving me my gift in person, I suppose I will do the same. As for the tea, thank you for the idea. Perhaps, I can test it on James to see if their uncanny likeness extends to calming agents as well. 

Delighted to hear from you, I miss you so much. 

Y/N

Once you reread the passage with attentive eyes, you nod once to yourself and prepare your wax seal. Weaving around the flush of work on your rug, you carefully give Belenus your letter. 

“Give him my regards, will you?” You whisper, running your index finger along the owl’s head. The creature tilts its head before shuffling through your window again, taking flight in the blink of an eye. 

Just as you begin to fall into a peaceful lull, elbows propped against your windowsill, a thunderous knock against your door has you nearly falling into the pane of glass. 

“Y/N! Come outside with us!” Sirius’ shouts bleed through the thick wood as if it were made of thin air, and you roll your eyes sky high, grateful that your mother was out shopping and not napping. 

“Hold your horses!” You yell back, scurrying over to fling your door open, heart still stuttering in its beats at the clamorous interruption. 

As you crack open your door with an unimpressed look, you’re met with Sirius’ shit-eating grin and a highly entertained James holding a pile of plastic-wrapped goodies. Your brother juggles the crinkling jumble before he balances one in his hand, flashing it around as he practically vibrates on the spot. 

“What’s that saying again, patience is virtue?” You mumble sarcastically. 

Sirius shakes his head and waves you off, “Being virtuous is boring.” 

“Right. Where did you get all of these from anyway?” You question breathlessly, reaching forward to snag one of the items from James’ arms.

Plecky’s Triple Ruby Ice Cream. The bulky square is icy to the touch, the packaging’s lurid colors buzzing against your eyes as Sirius begins to impatiently tug you down the hallway. 

“No time to explain, we have to eat all of these before mum and dad get home.” James offhandedly hums, marching behind you and Sirius as you pace down the stairs. 

“I hate you both, do you guys not have to study for your N.E.W.T exams?” You huff, batting at Sirius when he squeezes your shoulders. 

James lets out a hearty chuckle at your words and Sirius clicks his tongue goodheartedly before whispering to you, “Nope! Moony and Lils are going to help us after break.” 

You sigh into the air, hands limply flying up as you mutter lightly, “I don’t understand how they put up with you both, honestly.” 

James bounds forwards past you both, flinging himself through the open door and into the pool of sunlight as he calls back, “We’re both extremely loveable. Now, I bet I can eat more of these than you!” 

The next time you feel any semblance of peace is the day you return to Hogwarts, school work long forgotten about when you hurry to meet with Regulus in the astronomy tower. You had practically inhaled your dinner, leg bouncing with uninhibited anticipation the moment you locked eyes with your devastatingly pretty friend. 

Once you’re situated atop the staircase, you quickly survey the open room for the boy, eyes dancing across the atrium when you find that you’re alone. The stars begin to peek through the canvas of the sky, thinning streams of clouds drifting away as the mottles of luminous spheres grow in number. 

The wind whistles sharply as it bats against the aged stones of the castle walls, providing a steady white noise as you wait patiently against one of the many iron railings. Only a few moments after you grow comfortable in your spot, you hear the faint padding of footsteps ascending towards you. 

Regulus’ eyes widen imperceptibly when they land on your lax figure, his body jolting to hurriedly close in on yours, “You got here early. Are you not cold?” 

The boy reaches for your hand, humming when he finds your fingertips cold to the touch. Shaking your head, you deftly wrap your arms around him as you mumble into his ear, “It’s so good to see you, Reggie.” 

Regulus’ arms find themselves around your waist as he reciprocates your hug, nuzzling against your neck as he lets out a low hum. Your relationship was not clearly defined by any title, nor was it barred by any conventional lines, and for the most part, you wouldn’t exactly say it was platonic in nature. 

However, affection was limited to hugs and handholding, the situation between your families and the state of the political sphere too convoluted for anything beyond that. 

“How was your break, love?” He asks with a soft voice, fingers ghosting against your hips as his arms loosen so he can crane back to look at you. 

You smile and drop your head onto his shoulder, “It was good. Though, Sirius got a bit ill yesterday.”

“Oh?” Regulus’ voice edges on concern, but he can decipher the amused hint in your tone to know it isn’t worthy of unease. 

“We ate a load of ice cream the day before, and Sirius is weak to bets.” You answer, not missing the light chuckle that Regulus releases. 

A few beats of peaceful silence ensues before Regulus detangles himself from you, eyes searching your face as conflict flickers through his eyes. A heavy burden seems to weigh against his shoulders as he huffs out a sigh too considerable for someone so young. 

“What’s on your mind, Reg?” You mumble, hands dancing up to rest upon his taut shoulders. 

Regulus frowns minutely before he throws his head to the side and indulges, “I won’t last much longer.” 

“Pardon? Helga, are you alright?” Your eyes are blown wide as you try to catch the boy’s eyes. “Regulus, don’t dance around this, tell me what the hell you’re saying.” 

Regulus’ shoulders give a shake as he swallows a dry laugh, facing you again with serious eyes, “Sirius had the right idea from the start, and I was too blind to see that I should have packed and ran for the hills, too.” 

Shock blisters across your mind as you reel back to process the information, mouth drawn into a small gape as you assess the boy’s expression. “What’s with the sudden change? I mean not that I hate it, frankly, I quite like this, but you were still uncertain just days ago.” 

Regulus mulls over your question for a few moments, hands moving to encircle your arms as he muses, “I’ve been corresponding with my Uncle Alphie since the start of break, and he was able to give me a rather impartial crash course of everything. From then, I just had to pick up the pieces stripped away and build on the bare bones…” His words taper off as his mouth furls into a small frown. 

“Love, you’re going to give me a hernia from all this roundabout talking.” You jokingly reprimand, eyebrows raising as Regulus nervously cracks his neck. 

“My parents are not good people, and I’ve seen those that Bellatrix surrounds herself with–” the word death eaters was notably eschewed, “and, well, it all seems like drivel now. Besides, I don’t want to fight on any side of any battle if I have to lose you. Your letter was a pretty jarring wake up call.” He finishes, his hands now unconsciously moving you closer to him. 

“Well, fuck.” You whisper into the air, mouth curling into a content smile as Regulus relaxes. “I didn’t want to lose you either, and I’m glad that I don’t have to. We’ll figure something out, but I won’t ever let you step foot back in that house ever again.” You promise with a firm voice. 

Regulus nods and his eyes shine with conviction, the promise quelling the storms of doubt in his bones, and erasing the wedge between you both. 

“Can I do something?” Regulus whispers, eyes capturing yours with an entrancing glimmer. 

“As long as it's not throwing me over this railing, then yes.” You whisper back coyly. 

Regulus chuckles, face now inches away from yours as he shakes his head, “Never.” 

As the little promise escapes into the air, Regulus tugs you into him, lips finding your own as he pours every inkling of passion and love coursing through his veins into his ministrations. Your hand tangles in his curls as he continues to heatedly kiss you, the silent push-and-pull between you both now long forgotten. 

Humming against his lips, you give a small tug to his hair before you pull back with a shaky breath, “There’s no going back, Reg.” 

“Good.” His words are hushed as he places his forehead on yours, “You’re my only constant. Not a bloody thing in this world I’d rather do than be with you.” 

“Is this the gift you were talking about?” You mumble, suppressing the tsunami of heat threatening to dissolve your self-restraint as you peer at the breathless boy.

“No, but forget about it for now.” He hums, “I hope you don’t have anywhere to be, I intend on keeping you here until curfew, love.” 

You laugh lightly and run your thumb across his cheek, “Bloody troublesome, you are. I can see the resemblance between you and Sirius now.” 

“Please don’t bring my brother up while I’m trying to love you.” Regulus huffs, swallowing your next retort with his lips as he dives back in to claim your undivided attention again. 

Luckily, you both made it back to your dorms before curfew came to nip at your tangled figures in a slew of detention slips and reprimands. The shift in your relationship was noticeable, but it did little to hinder your day-to-day routine, the both of you still trembling under the weight of your studies. 

It was the Friday of your first week back when James and Sirius bounded towards your hunched figure, your hands littered with inky streaks and eyes squinting painfully at your textbooks. The library upheld a faint degree of chatter, and you were itching to track down Regulus (the boy was likely off at Quidditch practice). 

“Heya, kiddo!” Sirius beams, slinking his way over with a respectable amount of carelessness as a few students side-eye him. James is beside him, hands in pocket, sporting a pitiful frown. 

“What’s up? And what’s with the frown?” You muse, stretching your back as they both pull out the chairs across from you. 

Sirius snickers and leans over to obnoxiously whisper to you, “Lily gave him a good scolding earlier.” 

“Sorry to miss it. What’d you do? We all know it was your fault.” You perk an eyebrow up at your brother, refusing to back down even as he throws his hands up with a flabbergasted look. 

“Well–er…” Sirius trails off, mouth agape as you could practically see his brain stuttering in its hollow glory. 

James sends a resounding kick to the boy, and shakes his head as he turns to you, “Nothing, just a disagreement about a certain Slytherin.” 

“Severus?” You inquire, lips tugging into a frown at the thought of your (reluctant) Potions tutor. 

Sirius huffs at the mention of the boy and clicks his tongue, “No, not Sniv–” 

“Finish that remark and I will maim you, dear boy.” You narrow your eyes, quill pointed threateningly in his direction. 

Sirius throws his hands up in surrender and opts to shuffle one of your open books over to him, eyes running along the words with vague interest. James’ eyebrows furrow and he seems to be debating on saying something when you continue your prodding, “So not Severus. Don’t tell me… Were you both arguing about Reggie?” 

“What? No!” James refutes, head shaking furiously as irritation stews in your gut. 

“Don’t lie to me, you don’t care about any Slytherins other than Reggie and Severus. But why the hell were you talking about my social life, again?” You huff, arms crossing as you see Sirius tensely peek up from his reading. 

James sputters for a moment before he breathes in deeply, a stern expression overtaking his face as he straightens his posture, “Lily agrees that I should be more… open minded about your friendship with him–”

You perk up and throw your hands into the air, “See!” 

James puts a hand up and shoots you a small look, “However, I am your brother, and it’s in your best interest to distance yourself from him.” 

“My best interest, or yours?” You ask with narrowed eyes, beginning to pack up your supplies. “James, we can’t keep having this conversation. Why don’t you try sitting the both of us down and having a completely reasonable, civil conversation with us for once?” 

“Well–” He begins, a frown pressing down on his features. 

You shake your head and huff, “No more excuses. Either you put on your big boy pants and try to understand where I’m coming from, or you can continue to mope, but if you choose the latter, don’t even think about approaching me until graduation.”

Without another word, you sling your bag over your shoulder and march away, ignoring Sirius’ calls after you, your textbook still in his hands. As you storm through the winding corridors, evading the swaths of students milling around, you set your sights on the Quidditch Pitch. 

The sun escapes into the stacks of pillowy clouds as you round the field, giving you an opportunity to peer up into the skies and track down Regulus, a pleased hum escaping your throat as you see the team begin to descend from the air. 

Shifting your weight from leg-to-leg, you wait patiently as Regulus hurries to break away from the circle of Slytherin players, nodding distractedly at Rosier. A few moments later, Regulus strides over to you with a flickering grin, eyes alight with lingering endorphins and excitement. 

“Love, what are you doing here?” He breathes out, dropping a small kiss to your cheek as he maneuvers his broom to his left hand, leaving his right hand to brush his curls away from his face. 

Beaming at the boy, you hum, “Just wanted to see you. And perhaps talk to you about something.” 

Regulus tilts his head and nods agreeably, “What’s on your mind?” 

“I’m thinking about telling my parents about us, and maybe you can ask your Uncle Alphard about y’know… leaving your house?” You mutter, fingers twitching with nervousness as a look of consideration passes through Regulus’ eyes. 

“Well, I don’t mind your parents knowing, but I also don’t mind them not knowing. I don’t want you to get into any trouble,” He confesses, rolling his arm back to stretch his sore shoulders. “As for my situation, I think my uncle would be willing to help me get emancipated. I don’t want to intrude in his home though, my mother would probably blow it up if I stayed there.” 

“So don’t.” You hurriedly say. 

He rubs your arm as he hums, “Don’t?” 

“Don’t go to your Uncle’s. Stay with us.” You mumble, eyes pleading with him. 

“Love–” He starts, eyebrows drawn together. 

A resounding voice echoes from across the pitch before he can finish, diverting both of your attention away from one another, “Hey, Black! Don’t dawdle! Avery said he wants you here for strategy!” 

“Go ahead.” You whisper, patting Regulus’ arm with a reassuring smile as you begin to back away. 

“Hey,” He whispers back, stepping forward to grab your hand with a fatigued frown, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, we’ll talk later, yeah?” You muse, lips furling upward as you squeeze his hand in farewell. 

You linger ankle-deep in the damp grass for a few more moments, watching as Regulus disappears into the distance with one last glance over his shoulder. 

Almost like a robot being rewound, you spin on your heel and march back to the castle, mind racing with threads of words to send to your parents. 

Once in your dorm, you immediately launch yourself on your bed, head craning down for indistinguishable reels of minutes, occasionally stopping mid-sentence to ponder on your next thoughts. When you lift your quill up from the parchment with finality, your eyes dart from the paper to your window, squinting with a light bristle as painful clouds of blue mull in your vision, the lighting in the room now too dim for comfortable writing and reading. 

As the sky grows gloomier, the wisps of lingering clouds withdraw into invisibility and you’re left to race against time as you fold up the finished letter to your parents. 

Dear Mum & Dad, 

I hope that you are both well! Please be sure to get lots of rest! Also, may we stock up on Lady Bramble’s peppermint tea? 

Rest assured, I am studying well. James and Sirius are as well (surprisingly). 

I was wondering if I could ask for a very large favor that would require the utmost discretion… 

To be direct, Regulus and I are together, and he needs to find sanctuary away from his parents. His uncle is willing to aid him with the legal processes of the matter, but he has nowhere to turn to for the summer breaks. 

I know this is a lot to ask, and I also know it isn’t ideal (for a multitude of reasons), but I will be forever grateful for even the slightest bit of deliberation. Please get back to me as soon as you can. Also, please don’t tell James. 

Your favorite child, 

Y/N 

The spiral of waiting threatened to tip you over the verge of complete impulsivity, one that would lead to you exposing your relationship prematurely and the subsequent Regulus-hunting that would ensue on your brother’s part. 

It had only been a couple of days since you sent off the letter to your parents, and at first you had been suspicious that your brother had somehow found out. After your disagreement with him in the library, he had been strangely distant, only occasionally giving you long, indistinguishable looks. 

Your sudden withdrawal from your brother and his circle spurred deep concern from your friends, and especially from Regulus, who managed to subtly bring up the development during every conversation you had with him. 

“Are you nervous?” You ask with a small frown, watching Regulus fiddle with his pot of ink. 

The boy shakes his head and flicks the ebony glass, “Not really. Rosier has been keeping an eye out on their new strategies and formations.” Regulus finally looks up and leans across the table toward you, “You’re coming to watch, right?” 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you hum lightly, “When have I ever missed one of your games?” 

“Right… and you’ll cheer for us?” His eyes run along your face as you furrow your eyebrows. 

“Yes… like I always do. Are we playing twenty questions now, love?” You huff out with a breathy laugh, intrigue only swelling higher when Regulus says nothing and gives you a small, uneasy grin. “Okay, what’s up? You’re looking at me the way I look at Severus when I accidentally mince my cowbane instead of chopping it.” 

“Poor Severus.” Regulus hums, eyes retracting into a sheen glaze as he reminisces on your ineptitude in Potions. “Anyway, it’s just… we’re playing Gryffindor.” He continues, mouth parting slightly when you squint at him. 

“Yes, Regulus, I know. Are you alright, dear?” You enunciate with blatant concern, head tilting to survey the boy’s uncharacteristic apprehension.

He clears his throat softly and shrugs, “I’m alright, I just don’t want you to be put in a weird place because your brother is also playing.” 

“Merlin, Regulus. So this is what you’re getting at.” You click your tongue with a small smile, reaching over to pat his hand, “Don’t stress yourself out, I always cheer for you.” 

“Uh? Ouch.” A familiar voice echoes from your right, tearing through the little bubble of comfort you’ve established with Regulus.

Swiveling your head over to the interruption, you narrow your eyes at the perpetrator and huff a small Hello, James. 

“Yeah, hi.” He blinks emphatically, “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

Regulus flips his hand over and threads his fingers with yours as you direct your full attention to James, “About cheering for Regulus? Well, I’m not.” 

James holds up a hand and sighs, “Okay, that’s a whole different discussion to be had. But I’m not here to argue. Sirius and I,” James leans to the side and gestures, but when he meets nothing but dusty air, he chokes on his spit and fully turns around, “Sirius?” 

You and Regulus exchange a concerned glance as James continues to talk to one of the bookshelves, “Sirius, what are you doing?” 

A fragile silence collects in the air as the three of you seem to share a collective perplexion, all waiting with bated breath. Regulus runs a hand through his hair as he frowns at James, likely questioning the boy’s sanity. 

Finally, Sirius’ broad figure emerges from behind a bookshelf, eyes wide with sheepishness as he makes eye contact with you and Regulus. “Hey, guys.” 

“Sirius.” Regulus greets with a stiff nod, fingers tightening against yours. 

“Why were you behind a bookshelf?” You hum, wrestling down an amused smile as James presses Sirius with a similar questioning look. 

Sirius chuckles dryly and walks over to your table, sitting on the edge as he slides a book toward you, “I was waiting. I honestly thought you’d hex Prongs to next Yule.” 

“Smart. What’s this?” You pick up the tome, exhaling loudly once you see it’s the book that you left in Sirius’ possession after you stormed away days prior. 

Sirius taps his fingers against the table and gives an exaggerated nod to James, throwing his arm towards an empty chair as your brother shuffles awkwardly on the sidelines. 

“Right.” James muses, hurrying to take a seat as Sirius slides over to make room. “We’re here because we wanted to talk to you.” He chews on his bottom lip and glances at Regulus, “The both of you.” 

Regulus nods and looks to you for confirmation before sitting up, “We’re listening.” 

“Well, it’s just that… you can’t be that bad.” James says, rubbing his shoulder as he nods at Regulus. 

Regulus rubs his thumb along your hand as he coughs out a laugh, “Uh, thanks. You too?” 

“And if it’s true that you’re… changing, then Sirius and I are very happy at the end of the day.” James finishes, now more confident as Sirius reaffirms his statement with his own light hum. Sirius rubs a hand down his mouth as he seems to debate on what to say to his brother, eyes flickering between Regulus and the far wall. 

“Well, I’m glad then.” Regulus adds, shooting you a relieved smile. 

Sirius clears his throat and paces towards Regulus, clapping his hand on the boy’s shoulder as his voice thickens with emotion, “I’m really relieved, Reggie.” 

“Yeah, me too. It will be different now.” Regulus promises with a whisper, smiling up at his brother with resolution. 

As Regulus and Sirius have their little moment, James knocks his shoe against yours to grab your attention. “Here. This came with my mail today. Don’t worry, I didn’t peek or anything.”

Quirking an eyebrow up, you slowly reach forward as James extends an envelope to you, eyes brimming with curiosity as he surveys you. “From Mum and Dad?” You murmur rhetorically, getting an affirming grunt from James in return. 

Ripping open the thick paper, you deftly extract the folded letter with coiled anxiety, head beginning to feel heavy as you anticipate the letter’s contents. Unfurling the crisp pages, your eyes run over the passage of ink, sinking into concentration as everything fades into the backdrop of your mind. 

Y/N, 

You should finish the rest of your other teas first, however, I bought a few tins of the peppermint tea as they were on sale.  

I cannot say I am surprised by the development of your relationship with Regulus, you and James were always attached to the Black brothers since youth. We are not able to house the boy comfortably for the sake of safety, it is entirely too unpredictable to have both runaway heirs under one roof. However, your father and I discussed the matter and we have decided that Regulus may be safe at Godric’s Hollow for the summer. The plot is untraceable and not widely known about outside of our family. We will send along a portkey for him to take near the end of the school year. 

Your father is expecting an explanation when we see you next. 

Please look out for your brother. 

Your father and I love you lots, dear. 

With love, 

Mum

A cold pin of disbelief rocks through you for a few moments before blind elation envelopes it and has you sighing into the air. Dropping the letter down, you smile widely and practically fly over the table, grabbing at Regulus’ tie. The boy darts his eyes to you in alarm before his eyes light up at the joy written across your expression, “Love?” 

“You’re going away for the summer.” You whisper enigmatically, a grin stretching at your lips when Regulus’ eyes widen further. 

“I am?” 

Nodding, you lean forward and press your lips against his, “My parents gave the okay.” 

Regulus laughs brightly and pushes up from his seat, cupping your face as he reciprocates your kiss. You both continue to exchange affection as Sirius and James drift off to the side, disgruntled and looking anywhere but at you both. 

Amidst running your hands into Regulus’ curls, you vaguely hear James muttering under his breath. 

“Sirius, you better go wrench your brother away before I make you an only child.” 

masterlist

[kairiscorner]

Hii, can I request Miguel with sunshine reader, who actually struggles a lot mentally? Like they are kind, friendly and very playful with pretty much everyone, but they find it difficult to open up about their constant feeling of loneliness and emptiness. And so Miguel sees them at the moment when all their facade is gone.

No pressure ofc, feel free to deny it if you don't feel like doing it🌿

HIII ANON, omg i love this idea SO MUCH, i hope i did this justice :') but here you gooooo

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

summary: miguel o'hara could never fully comprehend someone of your caliber; you were just too much for him. you were loud, playful, open, and kind; he thought you were that simple. but when he caught you one day after a mission, seeing you in a light he never thought he could see you in... he realized there was much more to you than you were letting on.

warnings: mentions of self-deprecation (this is an angst, for the most part)

word count: 2,655

miguel couldn't wrap his head around you at first, around you and your psyche, around you and just how consistently tenderhearted and amiable you were towards everyone in the spider society. when he first sought you out, he thought you were the same as him; shattered, isolated, and dissociative from people to protect not only them, but yourself. but oh, was he wrong. he knew your background very well, he knew you suffered many tragedies in your life, be it as a spider person or as a person of your own, you had too much happen to you all at once.

he sympathized with you in many ways, but he knew someone of your aptitude would be remarkable help in his elite force. the first time he met you, however, he was greeted with a completely subverted image of the spider person he expected you to be. you were warm, friendly, sweet, and open.

you were a little shy and anxious around him at first, and he couldn't blame you. it was your first time meeting someone like you, but you were so enthusiastic about meeting him and the prospect of meeting so many other spider people just like you that you couldn't sit or stand still at the thought of meeting them all.

miguel asked himself at first why you seemed so trusting, so eager to meet people when he heard how well people in your life have hurt you in the past. he didn't know the specifics of it because he was busy recruiting other spider people and monitoring other universes, but he knew of the events in your life, at least short, important tid bits of them; and he had never felt more sympathy for anyone else in his life until you came along.

when you were first initiated into the spider society, miguel was a little taken aback at how easy it was for you to make friends. you had a lot of people to talk to, bond with, and impress already, and they loved you!

every single one of them was captivated by how charming you were, how generous you were of your time and services, and how quick you were on your feet to offer yourself to join some of the spider folks on missions, or even just run errands so they wouldn't have to do it alone.

you were, in the truest sense possible, an angel. the spider society loved you, they all believed you could do no wrong. you were always up for helping other people and ensuring their safety and comfort. though sometimes you'd go overboard and not hesitate to sacrifice your own safety and comfort for them, you'd tell them it's okay, you'd willingly go above and beyond for the people you care about.

you kept telling yourself it was okay to lose yourself for other people.

you kept telling yourself it didn't matter, so long it was just you and not them.

that's how your world revolved, right? people came and went as they pleased, you did your best, your everything to keep them, and you'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it'd meant they'd stay. you wished they'd stay if what you had to do was carry their burdens and misfortunes. you were strong, capable, and durable; you convinced yourself you could take it. you saved your city before, time and time again--even if you were battered, bruised, bloodied and thankless in the end, you smiled regardless and were willing to do it all over again.

"don't worry about me, i'm your friendly neighborhood spider person! i'm built for this stuff, i've got you." "oh, no! i'll take care of that for you, i'd rather you rest. let me take care of it, i've got you." "i'll take care of this! you guys do your own thing, i'll do this. ...because i've got you."

endlessly, those three words: "i've got you" is ingrained in miguel's head. he's not exactly tired of hearing it, he's impressed on how keen you are to be useful and pick up your own slack plus others' work. he does think you're a bit of a pushover for that, though, which he is a little disappointed with, but nothing he can do to force you out of that trait of yours.

he does wish you'd say no or stand your ground whenever you were uncomfortable with something, but then again, like all great pretenders, you took every favor and request with a smile and a pep in your step. it was like you wanted everyone to know you live to serve, that you wanted nothing but to be useful to everyone, even if it put a strain on you.

however, when you and your team came back from a mission with significantly more injured spiders than usual, instead of being greeted with your concerned yet reassuring self that'd rush to the side of the injured spiders, you ran away when you got back to HQ, leaving them behind as you looked away in what appeared to be... unbridled shame.

miguel weaved his way through the small crowd that gathered around the injured spider people when he was told they'd all be out of commission for a while, but otherwise, do okay; he had to find you, because he had a feeling something was off about you, something must've happened.

miguel wordlessly searched for you, thinking that if he called out for you, you'd run away and hide even more. not long after, he heard soft sobs and whimpering by a nearby broom closet. miguel halted in his tracks and moved closer to the door. his expression softened and became one of genuine worry, but he still remained his composure as he realized that voice that was choking up tears and sobbing was yours.

he knocked on the door of the broom closet, and soon, the sobbing stopped for a minute. "...do you want to talk?" miguel asked you after that moment of pure silence. you didn't respond for a little while, but you gave in and slowly opened the door, your eyes and nose puffy and red; your lip quivering at the corners--you really weren't okay, and this was a rare sight to behold.

miguel's expression soon cracked into one of worry. he instinctively moved toward you a step closer, but held back in fear of you sobbing again. "what happened?" he asked you in a gentle voice, a voice that promised he wouldn't judge you for whatever answer you give him, because miguel always had that feeling: there were a million unsaid things that were so, so wrong; but you never uttered a word about it, nor cried a plea for any help, and kept all your feelings locked away behind your insincere, forced smile.

you looked down, not wanting to make eye contact with miguel... or anyone, for that matter. you tried to shake your head, deny anything was wrong, but not this time. you had betrayed yourself, your own feelings, wants, and needs for the longest time that they all just came spilling out and being released from you in a much needed sob.

you could feel yourself tearing up again, and you tried to fight it, but miguel shook his head and put his hands on your shoulders. "no. stop it." he said in a concerned yet stern voice as he gazed at you and your glassy eyes, keeping your tears in the best you could. "stop holding it in. please. i know you want to see everyone happy, i know you don't want things to go wrong anymore, but please... don't keep your feelings bottled up. it does you more harm than good." he uttered softly as his grip on you tightened a little.

you heard it. finally, you heard it. those words that you longed to hear, in the many years you've been hurt, lied to, and abandoned by people you loved and cared about; you finally heard permission to cry, to be vulnerable, to be weak for a moment. you finally had a moment of respite from all the pretending you were sick of doing.

in a moment, you went from being composed, yet red and puffed up in the eyes and nose, to a full on sobbing mess in front of miguel. he let go of you when you started sobbing, but you held on to him as you cried. he took that as a sign that you didn't mind him holding you as you cried, you never had that luxury before anyway, being held as you cried, letting go of everything you've been holding for the longest time.

it was relieving, it was soothing, but it was painful. it was a remedy for your wounded emotions, crying your heart out as miguel held you. you knew you might get sick afterwards, crying so hard your heart might break, but miguel pat your back--albeit a little awkwardly--and whispered words of encouragement to let it out, let it all out.

"i hurt them..." you muttered through your sobs. "i told them i had it, i thought i had it, i thought i could take out the villain all on my own." you murmured as your sniffling continued. "i didn't want them to get hurt, really, i promise... but i took one wrong step, and–" you choked out as you cried even more as miguel shushed you and told you it was okay to let it out.

"i... just... i just don't want–don't want to be left alone anymore... i don't want to be hated, i don't want to be talked bad about behind my back; i want to feel like i belong." you whispered as your crying slowly stopped to let you breathe for a bit, taking in a ragged breath as you leaned against miguel, exhausted after letting out exactly what you felt and held in, all this time.

"you're... so very brave." he murmured as your sobs drowned out what he was saying. he didn't raise his voice at you, and especially not when you were in this state. "but so, so foolish." he remarked as he looked down at you, still sobbing. he sighed as he put a hand on your chin and angled your head to look up at him, the softness in his face ever so present as yours became redder and puffier.

"you're amazing, you can do anything and everything asked of you, and everyone loves you for that. and yet, you can't seem to give yourself a break. you're... you're forcing yourself to become someone you don't want to be." he says in a soft voice. "...i might just be doing that." you say as the realization of what you've been doing to yourself dawned on you.

miguel pulled away from you a little and ran a hand through his hair, still looking at you, but thinking of what to tell you. "if you're scared of them rejecting you for showing weakness or this... vulnerable side of you, don't be. i've worked with many of these people for years, some i've only met recently, but all of them–all of the people here love you." he told you as he watched you wipe the tears from your eyes, still sniffling. "every single one of them, they all have something nice to say about you. but we're all concerned for you," he said as he took your hand in his.

"you're constantly taking their burdens upon yourself. you don't think they realize that? they appreciate you, so, so much; but they want you to stop and think about yourself first." he tried getting his words through to you in a pleading voice. "we're a team. you don't have to go through this alone. and, really..." he said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, staring down at how much smaller, more vulnerable you were compared to him. "...i wanted to be the one to keep you from falling apart and letting yourself forget who you really are. i know i knew you for, what, a few months? but even before that, before you joined us, before you are who are now, i've seen how you are, how you act--and i've been informed of... tribulations you've gone through, things you keep hidden underneath the surface. you've been through too much for one to bear all alone."

you look up at miguel, and for the first time, you feel something new; you feel as though, despite the troubles you've gone through, the troubles you sometimes inflict upon yourself, you do have someone looking out for you. and it's always been him, ever since the beginning.

"and because... i know what it's like. i know what it's like to have to mask yourself so nobody gets worried about you, so no one thinks you're easy pickings... so you don't hurt or get hurt anymore..." miguel continued as his voice got softer. he took a breath in, and letting it out in an exhausted sigh, as if he, too, were also sick of hiding exactly how he felt and who he was. "it's the things we keep hidden that always show." he said as he looked at your eyes. "but don't... don't be scared to show it. and if not the others... you have me." he said softly, slowly reeling back from you, letting go of your hand gently and widening his eyes as he realized what he was saying. a silence befell you two as you stared at him, in wonder, at this side of miguel; this side he was hiding that he soon showed, that he soon brought to light in front of you.

"can you do something for me?" miguel asked as he broke the silence, looking into your swollen eyes. "please promise me that when you say 'i've got this'... remind yourself that i've got you. i'm right here for you to call, any time you need me." he said with a small smile as he wiped the tears from your eyes. "do you promise me?" he asked you as you slowly nodded, with his hand lowering down to your cheeks and resting there. "i promise. i... got this. i've got you." you said with a small smile. he returned the smile with one of his own. "you've got me." he said as he rubbed your cheek softly.

and as miguel were about to pull away, you wrapped your arms around him, your bright, signature smile returning to your face. your eyes were still puffy and swollen, but they shone, even in the dim light of this tiny broom closet. "thank you, miguel." you thanked him before he could leave, your arms tightening around his waist as you held him close, not wanting to let him go. it wasn't out of fear that you didn't want to let him go, you wanted to let him feel just how much he's saved you from yourself, how good it felt to be told those words for the first time in a long, long while.

miguel was shaken at first when you held him, he... hadn't been held that way in... ever. he didn't know what to do in the beginning, he wasn't sure when you'd pull away, but as the embrace prolonged, he found himself wishing you wouldn't pull away. he soon brought his arms up, then, he brought them close to your back, still hovering his arms in the air awkwardly as you leaned into the hug.

then, in one final swoop, he took the plunge and embraced you back; and miguel had never felt a happier silence than that, embracing you, who finally let yourself show how you truly felt, and how, even if you were scared of being abandoned again, being left alone... miguel was not one of those people for you to fear would leave.

not now, not ever.

a/n: NERIJOBFIURBIUBRIBVVBBNE NGL I FEEL LIKE I KINDA DRAGGED THIS OUT AND DIDN'T EXPRESS EVERYTHING I WANTED TO SAY, BUT THIS AAAAAAAAAA I'M CRYINGGGGG

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @luvstarrstruck

[phantasmiac]

in which touya is your best friend’s older brother

cw/tw: fem!reader, reader is in college, make out scene, nothing else i think

wc: 2.9k

a/n: obsessed with my own au. part two can be found here.

from middle school to high school, you and the two eldest todoroki children had followed the same 8AM-3PM schedule, eating the same assigned lunches and traveling in and out of the same building. but it wasn’t until your second year of high school that they really became aware of your existence, after you and fuyumi began volunteering at the same local daycare center. you vividly recall her flushing a deep shade of red that matched the streaks in her hair when you’d told her you were in the same year, and having to repeatedly assure her that she hadn’t upset you. it was an honest truth; not once had you been put in the same class, and you yourself couldn’t name one person outside of your own — with the exception of the todoroki siblings. it was impossible to be unfamiliar with the two when their popularity was so overwhelming. fuyumi, for her beauty, intelligence, and tenderhearted demeanor, and touya, mostly for his delinquent behavior. there’d been a few fleeting instances over the years where you’d fallen under the same spell as your classmates; the one that glued their eyes to the hot troublemaker just a grade above you. but they were just that — fleeting.

you’re not sure what was contaminating the air inside of the todoroki household the first time you came over; only that it had infected you with a certified school girl crush on your best friends older brother. every interaction with him left your heart flapping it’s dainty little wings. being fuyumi’s best friend, and spending as much time over as you did, granted you access to exclusive perks. “perks” such as the offhand, sarcastic comments you were now susceptible to; ones that weirdly drew you in instead of putting you off. you were able to see him doing things other than smoke on top of the bleachers from the window of your after-school prep classes, or beat up some random upperclassman in the middle of the hallway. watching him play the guitar, obliterate everyone at shogi, and tend to the garden plants was quite the change of scenery. if feeling special was a crime, you were guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, though you’re sure your classmates would too if they’d experienced the feeling of touya peeking at your homework over your shoulder and “obnoxiously” whispering the answer into your ear.

it was just your luck that the very same virus had to go and infect little 13 year old natsuo and make you his target. little natsuo who would stammer and blush and make a complete fool out of himself whenever you were around. little natsuo who once noticed you while playing soccer with shouto and touya in the yard, and got smacked in the face with the ball in the process (you’ll never let him live it down). little natsuo who singlehandedly destroyed your hopes and dreams of ever getting touya to look at you differently. because once the eldest todoroki sibling caught on, he refused to let it go. he’d gone as far as to create a ship name for the two of you, one that even shouto — always craving his big brothers approval — had started using. your eye twitched every time he would refer to you as natsuo’s girlfriend. it went without saying that the whole thing was just one big, running joke. but natsuo’s feelings were real, and you knew touya would rather stick his hand in a blender than break his little brothers heart — that is, if he ever even saw you that way in the first place.

touya graduates at the end of your second year, declaring he’s taking a “gap year” and moves out to live with a friend of his; the shy one you’d met a few times and bonded with over animal crossing once. rei permits it without much of a fuss, grateful that it’s tenko and not one of those “awful influences” he used to hang around at school (though you always suspected tenko had a secret wild side, too). he visits occasionally, still acting like he never left, but his overall absence allows you to finish your final year without the distraction of silly little feelings consuming you. you pride yourself on how well you’ve managed to suppress it all, just to feel like a complete liar on every single one of his visits, when he tugs on your hair and scares you from behind as a greeting like some grade schooler with a crush. by the time touya’s gap year ends, you and fuyumi begin your first semester of college, and rei has grievously accepted that her son is not planning on getting a degree.

a week prior to your winter break, you’re asked out by a guy in one of your gen-ed classes as you’re leaving with fuyumi. although touya doesn’t immediately come to mind, and the guy seems decent enough, you feel compelled to turn him down. it’s fuyumi’s elbow nudging into your back as she attempts to appear busy on her phone that gets a “sure” out of you. that friday, you find yourself sitting at the theaters watching a newly released horror movie next to a guy you haven’t batted an eyelash at other than the one time both you and fuyumi had missed a powerpoint slide. it’s then that touya — who you haven’t seen in nearly three weeks — comes to mind, for two particular reasons: a) because this is the type of thing he’d definitely put on after intruding on your and fuyumi’s movie night and b) because this is kind of a weird first date, but you’re sure it wouldn’t be as bad (or bad at all, for that matter) with him.

the following night, you’re at the todoroki household to help them get things sorted for the winter break trip you’ll be tagging along for. touya has finally reappeared and is uselessly laying in starfish position on fuyumi’s bed as you hand her clothes to fold into her suitcase. he’s rambling on and on about his recent whereabouts and his plans to start a tattoo apprenticeship, to backpack across europe, and to start a band, and a bunch of other things that he’ll probably forget about in a few months. even though half of what he’s saying is nonsense, he sounds so enthusiastic, you can’t help but smile and nod along. fuyumi scolds you to stop encouraging him, which he rolls his eyes at before asking, “anyways, what’s going on with my sister in law?”. natsuo has just recently gotten into his first real relationship with his first real girlfriend, so you’re ready to correct him until —

“nuh-uh! not your sister in law anymore. i mean, unless you count our marriage,” fuyumi intercepts. “she scored herself a boyfriend this week. oh my gosh, i didn’t even ask you how your date went!”

the clothes are long forgotten as fuyumi shakes you violently by the shoulders, and you don’t have time to explain that the date went nowhere before touya is mumbling something about “not wanting to hear this crap” and leaving the room. the next day, touya brings home a girl for the very first time. seeing her makes you realize that you’ve never put much thought into what touya’s type might be like. the girl standing before you is sweet and effortlessly beautiful, able to make a casual outfit look dressy. you don’t question how strange it is that he would choose to introduce her to his family the day before a trip, or the fact that he doesn’t outright call her his girlfriend. you’re much too focused on the way she constantly leans into him, and shamefully flitting your eyes away when he looks up at you like he knows you’re watching. you will yourself not to shed any tears as you lay beside fuyumi that night, thinking about how his absence in the last three weeks must have been because he was spending them all with her.

the car ride to the log cabin you’ll be staying at for the week is spent stuck between the window and shouto, who’s going ham on some game on his ipad (you hate to admit how entertaining it is to watch), and shooting lasers into the back of touya’s head through the gap in the headrest. there’s a few times your eyes meet through the passenger side window, but instead of pulling a face like usual, he looks away. whether your nausea is a result of motion sickness or emotional distress, there’s no telling. by the time you reach the cabin, the moon is out and the stars are littering the sky, offering just a bit of light that peaks through the towering trees and helps with the unloading of the trunk. upon settling in your rooms, rei announces that she’s going straight to bed. you can already hear shouto and natsuo’s voices coming from their own rooms; shouto playing with his little green haired friend and natsuo talking to his girlfriend. fuyumi, always so productive, immediately gets to unpacking her suitcase — an activity you have little interest in.

it was the promise of a hot tub that got you to come on this trip in the first place, and you weren’t going to let the night deter you from your wish. fuyumi insists that tomorrow is promised as you carelessly dig through your luggage for a swimsuit, but you don’t budge. you curse your stubbornness when you head down to the back porch to find the hot tub lit up, bubbling, and occupied. you’re met with the sight of a bare back that’s more built than the last time you’d seen it. touya’s lack of acknowledgment of your presence deceives you into turning your heel for an attempt at a silent escape; a silence that is soon shattered by the sound of swashing water, and then touya’s voice: “i don’t, bite you know.” it’s with reluctance that you turn back to face him. his arms are dangling off the side of the tub, his chin propped at the edge. “i wouldn’t put it past you,” you quip back.

you don’t think the lack of conversation is nearly as awkward for touya as it is for you. he’s been staring at the water, unblinking, for the past five minutes (months, for you), chewing on his lip pensively like something magical might bubble to the surface. your eyes, on the other hand, have been scanning every area of the premises for something that might save you. the woods are pitch black with the exception of the porch lights. maybe you could bring up how scary it is out here? no, you don’t want to come off as a wimp. the skiing plans for tomorrow? no, that’s lame. how about his girlfr —

“is it okay if i kiss you?”

the sudden jolt of your body causes a big splash that manages to hit both you and touya in the face. if he’d lost his mind, the water should have been enough to startle him and set it straight. instead, he wipes a hand down his face and continues to look at you expectantly for your answer. you’re incapable of offering it to him in words; so you wade your way across the tub to where he’s sat, kneeling in front of him as an invitation. perhaps it was silly to assume he was asking for a simple, chaste peck, but the arm that hooks itself around your waist and pulls you forward elicits a gasp out of you nonetheless. but it’s nothing compared to the thrill you feel when both of his arms move to grab your thighs, effectively hoisting you up and getting you to straddle him. not once in any of your fantasies had you imagined being on top of touya, but you think the reality is much more satisfying. it’s hard to say who makes the first move, seeing as you’re both hungry for the same thing. your fingers are digging into touya’s cheeks, and his onto yours in a different area. you’ve been told countless times that your first time making out wouldn’t be a scene out of a movie. but somehow, touya’s lips and tongue guide you in a way that makes you look and feel like you’ve been doing this for years.

it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, excluding the sound of fuyumi’s “oh my god!” ringing in your ear. she’s standing at the slide doors with her hands covering her eyes, nearly tripping over her own feet. instantly, you rip yourself away from her older brother and shoot out of the water, scrambling for an explanation. she shouts something about waiting for you up in the room before nearly colliding face first with the glass doors. you don’t bother to look at touya’s reaction as you exit the tub and quickly snatch a towel, nor at rei, now wide awake and frantically and asking what’s wrong as you zoom up the stairs. you waste no time in profusely apologizing to fuyumi, who’s now laying flat on the bed with her head dug into a pillow. the thought of your friendship coming to an end has your voice shaking and tears forming in your eyes. the sound gets fuyumi to set the pillow aside and smile at you softly.

“i’m not angry. i just wish i hadn’t had to see that with my own two eyes,” she laughs, hands holding yours. “but i am a little confused as to why you’d wanna be with my gross old brother of all people. i thought that other guy was a catch.”

it’s hard to identify whether the sound that leaves you is a sob or a laugh, but you allow yourself fall into fuyumi’s arms in relief. she spends the rest of the night interrogating you, and then singlehandedly planning out your future wedding.

touya actively avoids you for the rest of the trip, opting out of all the planned activities in exchange for staying holed up in his room until hunger strikes and forces him down to the kitchen. you try not to be hurt by his behavior, disregarding it as him being embarrassed at being caught by his little sister. that assumption is proved wrong when he has multiple interactions with her, while acting as if you don’t exist. of course, fuyumi attempts to get an explanation for you, but she always comes back with the same response: “he said he’s not going to talk about it with me”.

on the last day of the trip, you tag along with natsuo and shouto for a day of ice skating, fuyumi staying behind to get a head start on some assignments. it was just yesterday that you’d suddenly remembered the girl touya had brought over, and come to the conclusion that the reason he must have been avoiding you is because he’d cheated, and the guilt was eating him alive. it didn’t matter how hard fuyumi insisted that her brother would never sink so low, and that he’d never said she was his girlfriend. you were now certain you were the other woman, and staying in the house was driving you mad.

the three of you are sat outside the rink, rental skates in hand. you’re focused on tying up your own as shouto makes repeated calls of his brother’s name, each call being ignored and becoming more irritated by the second. natsuo is glued to his phone, typing away and smiling like a fool, shouto’s pokes at his puffer jacket going completely unnoticed.

“jesus, natsu,” you roll your eyes, punching him on the arm with enough force to get his attention. “shouto’s been calling your name for ages.”

“sorry! i’m texting my girlfriend.”

you chuckle as you kneel down to attend to shouto’s neglected skate laces. “you didn’t even have to say. when are you gonna bring her over? you know, like touya.”

the last part definitely could have been left out, and said in a less bitter tone, but it gets natsuo to quirk his eyebrow in confusion. “that girl from last week? i don’t even know why touya brought her over. he complains about her to me all the time. says she has an annoying crush on him,” he mumbles.

the strength required to keep down the grin threatening to form at his revelation is downright shameful, though the satisfaction doesn’t last long. because if touya doesn’t have eyes for someone as stunning as her, where does that place you? you know it’s sneaky of you to take advantage of natsuo’s obliviousness, but with the way things are going with touya, you know he’s the closest you’ll get to some answers.

“that’s too bad. she was really pretty.”

“yeah, well, i don’t think i’ve ever heard touya call anyone pretty.”

“i have,” shouto speaks up from under the confinements of his wool scarf. he winces when you unconsciously tighten his laces a little too hard at his statement.

natsuo looks at him like he’s been shot. if touya was going to gush about someone he was sure it’d be to him. “when? who? where?”

“he didn’t tell me. i just heard him, once, when his friends were over. they were talking about girls and stuff, and they were making fun of him. because he never liked anyone. and then he got all mad and started yelling that he did like someone.”

“when was this?” natsuo probes on, phone now long forgotten.

“his second year, i think. it was before fuyumi met you,” shouto points a gloved hand at you.

high school touya never showed an interest in anyone; it was one of the reasons everyone believed they had a chance. your jealousy has now been replaced with sincere curiosity, an eagerness that reflects natsuo’s.

“do you remember their name?”

shouto nods nonchalantly, completely oblivious to the fact that he has you and natsuo on the edge of your seats.

“i never said anything because i thought it had to be another person with the same name after he started making fun of you and natsu.

but it was your name.”

[munsonthings86]

Heyy are you still taking requests??

If so can I please have a Steve Harrington x Sinclair!reader blubber or one shot please. The idea is that this takes place like around season three (or just awhile after Steve and Nancy’s breakup) and Steve and Reader have been getting closer because of all of the events that were going on in the show. And reader realizes that she has been falling for him but the problem is that she’s close friends with Nancy but feels weird for liking her ex. But like Nancy pretty much hints to her that it’s fine and whatever.

Love you work thank you 🫶🏾💜

hi love! thank you for the request & sorry abt the wait! but i hope you enjoy! <3

wc: 3.7k

What is one supposed to do when they just so happen to fall for their ex-girlfriend's best friend? It was a daunting question that rattled around Steve's mind with harsh clangs, making him toss and turn in bed when he tried to sleep. The poor thing even resorted to counting sheep when the only thing he could see behind his closed eyes was your pretty face that made him so pitifully nervous.

Liking you was troubling. It was divine and dreadful all at once.

The divine. Steve could easily recall the first time he met you like it was his favorite scene of his favorite movie.

Billy's 1979 Camaro made a loud screech when he drove up to the Byers' home unwelcomed. He brought mayhem as he searched for Max, unhesitat to torment your little brother Lucas in the process. You were fearless when giving Billy a piece of your mind, calling him all kinds of inglorious names and jabbing your finger at him when he sneered at you with that Hargrove smirk you despised.

Though you were undoubtedly no damsel in distress, clearly knowing how to stand your ground, Steve had unfaltering determination as he went to defend you and your sibling. He threw the first punch at him, knowing that Billy wasn't the kind of person that responded well to empty threats.

Unfortunately, that was his last lucid memory from that night.

Steve would (reluctantly) admit that he didn't end that brawl unscathed, but his heart certainly grew a couple sizes for you when you tended to his wounds soon after. Gentle with his cuts and bruises, you'd shyly smile and mumble little apologies when he'd hiss and flinch.

Steve had already known of you and seen you around school, sure, but this was his first time truly in your presence.

There was something so calming and warm about it.

But one thing that Steve wanted etched on his mind forever, was the Snowball of '84.

The blue glittery dress you wore adorned your figure perfectly, hair framing the beautiful picture of your face. You were there as a volunteer, chaperoning the middle schoolers but Lucas but in particular, as you grew fiercely protective over him after uncovering the deep secrets of Hawkins.

Steve was practically drooling as he gazed at you from his car, no longer able to focus on whatever it was Dustin had been rambling about. Handing out cups of punch to kids in line, your smile was bright and glittering while you shared a conversation. With Nancy.

The dreadful. It was your relationship with her that spared you of Steve's magnetic charm. Other than his newfound shyness, of course.

Nancy and you were two peas in a pod, rarely ever being seen without the other, especially when Lucas and Mike became friends. The two of you were always on study dates, had each other on speed dial, and even had friendship bracelets with the other's initials donned on your wrists. She was more than a best friend to you. More like a sister, you thought.

But Steve couldn't help himself from lingering a bit after he would drive Lucas home from whatever nerdy activity he needed a ride back from. The tenderhearted boy was beautifully uncreative in his efforts to get your attention, as he used any and every tactic imaginable.

He'd ask you about the book you were nose-deep in, though he knew damn well the title would soon be forgotten once the conversation was over. He'd tell you about his favorite shows and movies when he caught you in the living room struggling to find something to watch. He even offered to teach how to drive when you casually mentioned something about getting your license.

Soon enough, shy waves and awkward small talk turned into late nights listening to Fleetwood Mac and intense game nights of Monopoly and Scrabble.

Steve didn't win at Scrabble too often. He kept trying to play words that simply just didn't exist.

It was June of 1985 and school had been out for the past couple weeks. Scoops Ahoy, a new ice cream joint that Erica was adamant to drag you to at least three times a week, became your new favorite place when you saw Steve behind the counter.

"Nice outfit, Harrington," you giggled, and though he knew you weren't really making fun of him, Steve blushed away, eyes shifty. You often left a little tip in the jar when you'd leave, thanking Steve for his hospitality and influx of free ice cream samples.

Today was different, though. Steve was unable to ignore the disappointment that overwhelmed him when your little sister had shown up without you. He nodded his head at her as she neared the counter, "Where's your sister?"

Erica cocked an eyebrow, hand dropping down onto her hip. "I'm sorry, do I look like her keeper? I'm just here for my usual, sailor man." Steve fixed his gaze on the blue and white clock on the wall that's arms pointed to read 12:17. Usually you were here to collect your fair share of free dessert too, but it was nearly rush hour and your favorite flavor was running low.

"Well no, but she's your keeper and I'm just a little curious, is all," he corrected, spooning a hearty serving of peanut butter chocolate swirl onto a cone. She tapped her foot impatiently, waving her hand to suggest that she wanted a second helping. If you want information, it comes with a price. His eyes were squinted at her before he rolled them, giving in to her wishes.

"Here, that's all you're getting. Now spill."

Her smile was wide when she took the cone from Steve's hand, finally satisfied. "You really need to work on your customer service skills," she pointed, a look of disapproval weighing on her face when she turned to look at Steve.

"She's at home. I think. I don't know, I haven't been there in a few hours. She could be in another country for all I know," she paused to take an obnoxious lick, "Pleasure doing business with ya', sailor man!"

Steve watched as she skipped back to her busy swarm of friends whose cackles and squeals could be heard from worlds away. He looked down at the array of ice cream in front of him, frowning at the puny supply of your favorite. Grabbing a to-go cup from under the counter, Steve garnered as much as he could of the dessert, some of it spilling over when he covered it with a plastic lid.

Robin peered over his shoulder as he scribbled something on it with a permanent marker, though she wasn't able to decipher Steve's dodgy handwriting.

"I'm going on break, cover the front for me," Steve announced, making his way out of the parlor. His stride was hasty and confident.

In the distance, he could hear the smirk in Robin's voice, "Tell her I said hi!"

﹏𓊝﹏

2550 Maple Street. Steve rolled slowly past the creaky mailbox that read 'The Sinclair's', careful not to drive over the yellow tulips by the driveway that your mother spent all spring gardening. They were coming along really nicely.

Every once in a while, Steve would ask to help her with all the weeding and trimming and other maintenance that she often called a headache. Never in a million years did Steve think he'd be so avid for a girl and her family's approval that he'd become a part time florist, but here he was.

Surveying himself in the rearview mirror, Steve plucked off the silly sailor hat that crowned his head with a huff before aimlessly tossing it, getting it as far from his self-proclaimed best feature as possible. His fingers busily shoveled through his thick tresses, searching for the perfect marriage of tousled and tamed.

To say Steve was a bit on edge was a terrible understatement. The feeling of his stomach pulling into a tight knot at the mere thought of you was something so foreign to him. He hadn't felt this way in such a long time, especially not since he'd been with Nancy. It was refreshing but damn stressful.

But you were well worth the stress and queasy stomachs.

Steve hurriedly dusted himself off, wishing he had enough time to drive to his house to change into a less ridiculous outfit. He just wanted to look his best for you.

Approaching your dark green painted abode, mumbled words of encouragement poured out of Steve's lips. He spoke with his hands and made little faces, and he had no doubt that he looked like a crazy person to your neighbors that walked by.

His fist somewhat stalled when he raised it to the wooden door, his little pep talk had only done so much to boost his confidence. But it was too late to turn back now, he thought. He left three knocks to the door anyway, figuring that he already made it this far.

With his gaze set on his shifty feet that stood on the tawny welcome mat, his heart felt sharp against his ribs when the door abruptly swung open. "Steve?"

He looked up with wide eyes only to find your younger brother, eyebrows pulled together. He had the landline clutched close to his chest, seemingly on the phone with someone.

"Sinclair! Just the person I was looking for," he watched as Lucas' fingers twisted at the lock of the gold door knob idly. The cozy smell of breakfast wafted towards Steve. "Sort of," Steve added, shrugging.

"What's goin' on?" Lucas blinked at him in anticipation.

"Nothing much. Just lookin' for your sister," he said, tapping his finger on the bowl in his hand. He squinted at the sky, peeved, cursing the searing heat of the sun. That ice cream was melting like an ice cube in a desert. And his sweaty palms surely weren't helping its case.

Lucas scanned the yard, finding that Erica's bike was missing. From what he could remember, he heard her yapping something about hanging out at the mall, however many hours ago.

"She's probably at Starcourt terrorizing the world like usual, you might wanna look there," he pointed with his thumb. Steve could hear an irked voice spouting from the phone, wondering where Lucas had gone. Max, he assumed.

He chuckled, leaning against the door frame, "Yeah, you’re not wrong." Though Erica didn't particularly struggle to ruffle up people's feathers, Steve was actually growing to find the charm in her temperament. He even caught himself fighting to cage his laugh at her snarky comments more often than not. Hanging around her so much will do that to you.

"But your older sister, I mean. She here?"

Lucas gestured upstairs to your room, stepping aside to make way for Steve. Mumbling a thanks, he abandoned his sneakers by the door, per your mother's usual request, and trekked up the staircase— butterflies reckless in his stomach.

You tried your hardest to maintain your composure as you listened to the slow thuds of approaching footsteps. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to know it was Steve. Not only could you pick out his voice in a crowd of countless people, but from your window, you spied his parked maroon BMW in the driveway. It was hopeless to try biting back the smile that crept up when you heard he was there to see you.

The bedroom door wasn't closed but Steve knocked anyway, calling out for you in a soft tone. Heat rushed to your chest and ears at the sound of your name falling from his pink, plush lips that you so badly wanted to kiss.

It was romantic thoughts like those of Steve that spread guilt through you like venom, knowing that he was Nancy's ex after all. It had been your shoulder that she cried on when her relationship with him ended, and you easily felt like the worst friend imaginable when you found yourself falling for him.

You managed to keep your bond with him strictly platonic, but boy was it difficult.

"Steve?" He smiled when you peered around the door, features posing a coy smile of your own. His hand shyly waved at you while the other stayed tucked behind his back, "Hey, you." He shuffled into your room, appreciating the way your shaggy rug felt delicate and feathery on his aching feet that he'd been standing on for too many hours.

Your bed squeaked when he sat in the space next to your abundance of stuffed animals that Steve liked to call the "wardens" of your bed. It was so adorable to him how gingerly you took care of them– even murmuring a little apology when you bumped into one by accident.

He let out a soft laugh when he glanced at you, mindful to not stare at you, though that's all he really wanted to do, "You still in your pjs?"

Nothing but tight shorts hidden beneath a baggy band shirt draped your body. While Steve thought you looked utterly perfect, you suddenly felt awfully naked.

Shaking off the fuzzy warmth that rushed over you, you scoffed, crossing playfully defensive arms over your chest. “You should be the last person talking about outfits," your eyes scanned his tall, slender frame.

Steve's jaw fell open, theatrically appalled at your quip.

“Oh, don't act like you don't love me in this outfit, princess,” he smirked. The nickname made your nerves all fiery and tingly. "I see the way you stare at my legs when I'm in these shorts. My eyes are up here, FYI."

With your head falling back, an echoing giggle escaped you. It's a laugh so pretty and sugary, it could sweeten even the most sour lemon.

Steve couldn't ward off the reddening of his cheeks.

"In your dreams, Harrington," you replied, plopping yourself in the chair by your vanity. You distracted yourself from Steve's teasing with tidying the clutter that obscured the desk. The nerves you felt would only further ignite if you kept looking into his warm eyes.

"Well, despite the minor insult to my uniform, which I'm not gonna take personally," he beamed, finally revealing what he had hidden behind his back, "I got somethin' for ya." His teeth trapped his bottom lip in its constraints, eyes wide with anticipation as you inspected your little present.

The cup was wet with condensation and leaking melted ice cream but underneath it all read, "something sweet for a sweet girl :)".

And just like the ice cream, you melted.

"Steveee," you gushed, licking off the dessert that dripped onto your fingers that were growing frigid. "You came over just to bring me ice cream?" The smile you wore was glittering and well worth the effort.

Steve was all mumbly and shy when he responded, "Well, I know it's your favorite and that was the last of it, so," he shrugged before he could give himself the chance to ramble.

You wrestled the urge to swoon. How could one person be so adorable? And why did that one person have to be your friend's ex?

"Well, that's very kind, Stevie. Thanks," you beamed.

"'S no problem," he shrugged with a shy smile, taking a glimpse of his watch.

He had a mere twelve minutes to get back to work on time. "Shit, I gotta get back before Robin kills me, but I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Later, Steve."

Rising from your bed, he made his way to your door. His footsteps were slow and hesitant, as he seemed to have something on his mind. You were following behind him when he spun around suddenly, your bodies nearly colliding. "Actually, there's somethin' I wanted to ask you," his eyes were squeezed shut while he pointed as he spoke.

His face was flushed and his feet tapped at the wooden floor rapidly. You don't recall ever seeing Steve so nervous. "Yeah?"

"There's some house party tonight that I was, uh, thinking about going to. I was, you know, hoping that maybe, you'd wanna go with me? Like a date?"

Your mouth was open but sentences, words, really any sound at all, failed to come out. The boy you'd been crushing on for weeks that felt more like years, had finally asked you out. And you had no choice but to say no.

Your silence was deafening. "Or maybe we could go to that carnival? I could win you another warden for your bed," he laughed.

"I'd really like that, Steve, honestly, but–"

"Nancy," he finished, eyes diverting to his feet. His fluffy brunette hair blocked your view of his face. It wasn't fun seeing Steve who you're so used to joking with look so down.

"I could, maybe, talk to her?" Your tone was quiet, but hopeful.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna come in between you guys."

"Don't worry about that, her and I will be fine," your smile was confident but deep down you weren't as optimistic as you let on. Nancy and you made a promise to each other to never let anything like secrets or dumb boys ruin your relationship. But, here you were. "Now, go, your break is almost up."

"Okay," he grinned, "I'll see you tonight?"

Nodding, you waved him goodbye, watching him retreat downstairs. Your back leaned against your door when you closed it, before you looked over at your soupy ice cream, defeated.

How could you choose between your best friend and the boy you were crushing on? It shouldn't even be a question, really. The guilt was already gnawing at you mercilessly.

﹏𓊝﹏

The cards you held were sticky on your clammy palms. The echoes of your talk with Steve just a few hours prior were intrusive and blaring. Taking a sip of whatever was in your red solo cup, you tried to drown out the roaring voices of the people at the party, along with the thumping music that numbed your ears.

Your leg was impatient and desperate as it shook up and down, doing its best to repel the anxiety that bit at you. It certainly didn't help that Nancy was sitting right next to you, oblivious to the stolen glances and sneaky smiles you and Steve were exchanging all night.

Rubbing your stomach that felt queasy and pulled into a knot, you hadn't noticed that it was your turn to play. You weren't entirely sure you even remembered the name of the game you found yourself in.

"Hey, are you alright?" Nancy's hand fell onto your thigh, running a comforting thumb across your skin. Her blue doe eyes searched your face, though she's known you long enough to already know that you were far from 'alright'.

"Yeah, why?" Your lips were pulled into a tight smile, trying and inevitably failing to give your best impression of a genuine grin. And of course, Nancy sees the way you aren't seeing her. When you mindlessly played a random card, your eyes were fidgety and unfocused– a clear sign that you were frenzied.

"Cause you look like you're about to throw up," her eyebrows were pulled together in concern as she continued to probe, "Seriously, what's wrong?"

A dreary sigh escaped you as you cursed yourself for not being as discreet as you hoped to be. You should've know that someone you considered your sister would be able to see right through you like glass.

"It's just," you hesitated. It was now or never. "Just-"

"Steve?" Her voice lowered when she said his name, noticing the way your face shifted and became an odd mixture of relieved and confused. Your head snapped in her direction, finally meeting her gaze for the first time that night, it felt like.

The thrashing of your heart almost made your chest ache, as you appeared to be caught in some kind of lie. You didn't tell a lie, really, but you certainly didn't feel like a noble friend.

Studying her face, you scoured to find any hint that she was about to start tearing into you, calling you every wretched name in the book. Honestly, you wouldn't blame her if she did. But there was a subtle smirk on her face. A stark difference in the expression you imagined she'd be wearing upon finding out about your little puppy crush on Steve.

"How'd you know?"

"I mean, it's no secret you guys have been hanging out lately," she laughed a bit, taking your hand in hers, "and I see the way you look at him. It's the same way I used to look at him."

Words completely escaped you. Your eyes and mouth were agape, in awe of Nancy's poise. It was one of the things about her that you deeply admired. "Nancy..."

She squeezed your hand, shaking her head, "No, it's okay. I was the one who broke up with him," she glanced over to where he stood in the kitchen, downing his drink before disappearing into the backyard. "Besides, I'm with Johnathan now and I'm happy."

You exchanged smiles as your nerves became the calmest they'd been in hours. "If Steve makes you happy, I'm not gonna get in your way. He's a great guy and I think you guys would be really good for each other."

Throwing yourself into her for a hug, you practically crushed her as words of gratitude spilled out of you. It was unbelievable how lucky you were to have someone like her. "You're the best, Nance." She shrugged as if it was nothing, a bright look on her face.

"Now go get him, I'll watch your drink."

Ignoring the protests from the others who were still in the game as you walked away, you dodged dancing and mingling party guests.

The backyard was a lot less crowded, thankfully, allowing you to easily spot Steve sitting in a hammock, tapping his fingers on a freshly opened beer bottle.

He wore light blue jeans and a yellow crew neck sweater, looking as good as ever. You couldn't believe that he was going to be completely and openly yours.

"Hey, Harrington," you basically skipped over to him, slipping into the space next to him. Your legs touched and you don't feel any guilt or urge to move away from him. It was so refreshing. "So, how 'bout that date?"

The smile Steve wore was well worth the stress and queasy stomachs.

💌 1 new message from jojo: finally on summer break!! my inbox is open as always! feel free to pop in for a chat <3

[rosedere]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓔𝔂𝓮

(Professor! Riddle Rosehearts x Student! Reader)

CW: Power abuse, Older man/Younger Girl Relationship, Drxxxing

I.

You have a secret. A secret that could be exciting to some and was even exciting for you when you mused about it.

You were in a relationship with Dr. Riddle Rosehearts

Head of the Veterinary Science Department.

Recalling anything from when the arrangement began would be difficult. It started naturally since you were just as fond of all animals as he was, the interest in you snowballed into you both hanging out away from the lab and sterile environment you'd see each other in every day.

He invited you over to his country home of sprawling green fields and some hay and cow pastures since you two were on pretty friendly terms. The reason for the spontaneous visit from the university to his whimsical home was so you could practice conducting checkups on young mares since you had complained that there wasnt much you could learn from looking at the images in a Textbook.

You were excited since you'd only practiced on the small animals the department took care of it'd be the first time you ever observed animals from outside of the textbook.

Everything seemed to have been going fine.

Leading you to the back of his vast… Well, a yard of sorts since there wasn't a house or fence for a while he led you to the horse stables introducing you to his three polite and healthy horses.

Midnight,Vorpal, and finally Rose

You bent over to pet the lying down mare who was taking a liking to your gentle strokes on her muzzle. 

Unbeknownst to you your professor standing behind watching you silently interact with his prized horses. The short jean skirt you wear under your practitioner jacket riding up revealing your biker shorts beneath. Unaware of the signals you were giving the mostly tenderhearted Dr. Rosehearts. you felt his mature, but smaller than usual sized hand begin to wander behind to the hem of your skirt under your lab coat.

Startled you only looked up with question at your Professor, your hand still perched on Rose’s muzzle.

And when you looked into his eyes, something flickered inside of you, like it connected the both of you together in that moment.

rising to your feet you only contemplated, staring still with a slight confusion about what this feeling exactly was.

It was then with pleading eyes he suddenly was now leading you inside his house up the stairs past the very vintage— but Farmhouse kitsch interior to An immaculate master bathroom that screamed of old money all around you before he abruptly sprawled you out on the rose-scented sheets. You both began to undress each other; Being smoldered with lustful kisses all along your tense body, his eyes filled with desire as he whispered sweet nothings into your skin.

That was the evening you lost your virginity in the rustic master bedroom of your professor's queen-sized bed with the sun setting in the distance outside the two-story window. The technicolor sunset was all projected into the room as you tried your best to catch your breath; your professor beside you Riddle gently stroking your hair as he tucked you against his chest.

It was the beginning of a secret relationship.

You honestly enjoyed it. 

Deepening the friendship the both of you shared he began to pay more attention to you in class. Asking you if you needed assistance with your assignments or if an animal was being stubborn he’d help you keep them subdued enough to complete the lab assignment for the day.

Your grades were never under 100 marks as he'd hand your reports with a small peck to your cheek.

Or how he noticed you were hungry because of most of your funds going to Books or pointless fees for your course. Almost like a caring angel He would arrive at your apartment different snacks you had told him you loved to eat in passing along with packing you meals he’d tried to make himself to feed yourself for the few days you both wouldnt see each other.

You'd accept the warm meals despite them tasting weird you weren't going to hurt him since you could tell he had made them with you in mind.The look in his eyes he'd have the minute you'd walk into class; full of radiance and warmth swirling in them as he’d quickly approached you to wish you a good morning with a secret kiss behind the various curtains around the Examination stables away from prying eyes.

It was the first time someone was attracted to you which is what made you fall even harder for him. It might seem like your secret was being in this taboo or strange relationship with your professor.

But it wasn't.

You started your relationship when you were 18; now 22 about to finish your veterinarian degree was when you tire of him.

The feelings you were beginning to feel was something that couldn’t be told to him; still receiving flowers for your birthday every year and eventually being as bold as to walk hand in hand with you in the city together.

It was one evening when he picked you up after class for dinner as usual; Riddle and you were preparing dinner together as per usual; Riddle was cutting the ingredients grown from the planter box by the window outside while you were stirring the now softening noodles in the ceramic clay brown pot on the vintage gas stovetop for your main entree for dinner.

“(Name) my beautiful dearest?” 

Involuntary clenching your jaw You hummed in acknowledgement as you stirred the noodles creating a tiny greasy whirlpool in the pot.

“It's been five years since we've been together”

You felt a tinge of nerves shoot up your spine.

“And I know you're graduating next month”  he continued while he shakily cut the last few herbs in his hand.

Hesitating you turned to see the faint blush forming on his face.

He paused for a moment as he began to clean the knife he had in his hands. Setting the knife down he reached behind him in a tall cabinet in a smaller drawer.

Your worst fear confirmed when the small velvet box was revealed.

”I saved up my last five paychecks to buy this one” he dreamily sighed. “I want you to be my wife (name)” Riddle nervously blurted barely getting the words out of his mouth, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

You were in utter shock.

Turning back to the steaming meal you didn't have to look at Riddle to know he was probably standing still in front of the cutting board on top of the wooden kitchen island. His facial features were tense but his mouth was in a small smile confessing his feelings for you.

“Your my sunshine (name) if I lose you next Month it'll be like if the land lost its light”

I won't know how to live.

Grabbing your frozen hands over the simmering pot and ladle holding it to his cheeks warm pliable cheek.

“I've already told my mother about you and sent her your pictures” he bashfully spoke as he ran your hands in his.

“For once she approves of one of my love interests, which means we are meant to be” he once again nervously smiled.

You only stayed silent for the longest going back to making dinner.

It was a good thing Riddle was preoccupied in his ramblings about the future, something about opening his own clinic in the small town he lived in together and maybe making the empty nest that was his home into a more lively abode.

You just wanted to leave.

You didn't want to be married and tied down with kids; you wanted to pursue your career. 

Especially at your age.

What you thought you could salvage from the situationship you found yourself in now seemed impossible.

You realized he had to go.

It seemed like it couldn't be as hard to end a relationship with someone as it was to enter it. You were sure He was only enjoying the sex you gave him every time you came over.

So that was where you began trying to dismantle the relationship first; declining any advances simply using excuses consisting of not being able to due to your period or being too tired from earlier in the day. He'd only reassure you it was alright with a soft smile as he cuddled beside you in bed intertwining his legs with your own under the bed sheets.

After three weeks of this, he wouldn't leave only talking more about this imaginary wedding he was planning asking you your thoughts on what kind of honeymoon you'd prefer. Your next plan involved you trying to turn down his invites to come to his home, being busy with other classes since you still had to finish your thesis and exams for other classes in your major before you graduated.

He began to waver, asking if he had done something to offend you his smile still soft on his face.

You never answered; only insisting you'll see him before graduation.

Walking away you didn't want to see the heartbroken stare of your professor. It seemed to work for a little while giving you time to stall.

But on the third week before your graduation while you were out in town shopping for the perfect white dress and heels to wear across the stage downtown you got an email from your advisor.

Check your grades and this instant; if the alarming reports I have received are true then I'm afraid you might not be able to walk down the stage at this spring graduation or ever

Going into your phone and logging in you felt the rush of bile begin to form in the back of your mouth.

“Failing due to unprofessional conduct including; plagiarism, unfriendly conduct towards students and staff, possibly stealing drugs and assorted medications from internship”

All under Dr. Rosehearts class notes and comments.

you instantly left the boutique, rushing to the nearest bus stop: the destination was Dr. Rosehearts Office.

II.

Riddle Rosehearts office was empty, but you knew he was nearby. He dared to write all those lies about you an hour ago. Letting yourself into the opened office you saw his almost barren office besides a rose-shaped lamp in the corner of the hardwood desk and a green swivel armchair.

His plaid messenger bag was hanging on the nearby coathanger next to his desk,  other than those few items it seemed empty of any personality.

With vigor, you sat in front of the desk ploping abruptly into the hard oval chair. As soon as you plopped into the chair you were fuming as you tucked your phone under your arms.

At first glance, you only saw the mountain of papers and a few magazines strewn about. But sitting against the keyboard was a small white phone.

He must be coming back soon if he left this you thought to yourself.

“Name”

Feeling his cold shaking hands on your bare shoulders before the door shutting was heard behind your seated self.

“Did you finally decide I was good enough to be seen with now” he spat.

His hand pressed deep into your shoulder feeling his forearm shake violently threatening to break your shoulder blade with the uncomfortable hold he had on you.

“Get off of me” You pried his hands off of you as you stood up to tower over him. But before you were able to get another word in he suddenly struck you; hard.

It was a sharp dull pain now spreading around your lower stomach.

Wheezing from the impact of his closed red cardigan fist you kneeled below him collapsing on top of his brown leather loafers.

Riddle awkwardly squatted beside you as you writhed in pain sprawled out on the hard shabby carpet below.

“Now, I'm going to give you two options (name)” he cooed as he began to run his hands on the back of your exposed shoulder blades.

“I either give you this horse tranquilizer and we begin our new life together” 

The cold metallic tube you handled so many times during your examinations for your fieldwork was unmistakable as you felt it brand itself to you. A threat.

“or you indulge me with an apology” He then got close to your ear feeling it tingle as he breathed in.

“And I'll allow you to graduate” After a few more splutters trying to reclaim the breath he had knocked out of your body, you rolled to your side to look up at Professor Rosehearts tight frown.

“I-I'm sorry Professor Rosehearts” you murmured while you began to try to sit up. Another kick collided with your side as you grabbed your sweetheart sweater. “Please calm down dear—”  you cried out as you tried to sit back up once again.

He only grabbed the top of your sweater; the hand holding the syringe in his other hand squirting the liquid up from the tip. Your eyes grew wide, shaking now while he held you up like some dog under examination.

Now, what you did next you still mentally scold yourself for. You could have just let him inject you and just found out if you would awaken from the large dosage.

But the words slipped out of your terrified dry lips.

Riddle, the baby—

His eyes dilated and his breath grew ragged as the red on his angered face disappeared. Your mouth was agape as his grip was about to waver.

his other hand trailing your sweater. Gulping a large lump in the back of your throat you watched him touch under the tender part of your abdomen, clothed by your thick sweater.

“I-I was going to surprise you after my graduation” you blurted, “but I guess you had to ruin the surprise” you screeched at him.

The thunk of the syringe falling on the floor confirmed to you all that you needed. His arms immediately embraced you, his cheek connecting to the side of your neck.

A soft sniffle, and then the feeling of salty warm tears trickled down your shoulder, catching in your cashmere sweater.

Stiff, you didn't know what to say.But the danger was gone now. At least he stopped. “I'm so sorry (name)” he whispered, Looking up at you with hazy steel orbs, tears still freefalling onto the ground. 

His hand now reached to caress your face so you both would be staring back at each other. A small smile started to form as he searched inside your own eyes. “I apologize for what I just did to you my love” he stuttered as he rasped his words, “You were hiding from me and I thought I was about to lose the only Rose that grew in my garden”.

He held you there for what felt like forever.

You only nervously looked down at your feet.

But if this would spare your life and get him to let you graduate what would be the issue?

-

III.

You had gotten reinstated to walk the stage. Receiving your degree in the rustic green mailbox in the hill country where you resided.

For now. Riddle was idly upstairs painting the nursery for your baby. You just politely declined saying you were too tired to go upstairs and help.

Not like he even cared, he was on a cloud of delusion.

Today was the day you will finally come clean.

The piece of paper you patiently waited to be mailed was here.

No more wearing the gaudy maternity dresses he picked (his mother helped pick out together with him), having to pretend to be more tired and sick. Although he was more pushy about the wedding since you decided to push it a few months after your graduation ceremony that he crashed despite your insistence you didnt need him to be there. You shudder at the thought of having to explain to your family who the man who wore a velvet red tuxedo beside you was.

Dismissing him as a close friend you made in the veterinary science department you kept your distance from him.

Slamming shut the mailbox door you decided to stop stalling your chance at freedom. Walking up the gravel path up the driveway you had the mail gathered in your left hand.

Your right hand sitting on top of your “bump” as you walked up to the familiar property. A small plastic syringe of horse tranquilizer in your right frilly pink and jade apron you had around your waist.

knocking on the screendoor you let yourself inside.Wiping your feet on the mst he had gotten when you suggested a welcome mat at the farm supply store, you continued your trek inside.

“Riddle?”

you stood in the entranceway. But you didn't hear his record player spinning upstairs like it was before you left him to go outside.

Calling out loudly once more making sure he was still present in the house.

“My Strawberry tart I'm back with the mail” 

but silence. You slipped your house slippers off near the grand wooden entry table before you continued into the kitsch hallway. Your ears perked when you heard a sound coming from the kitchen.

“Riddle?” 

Holding the mail and your certificate closer to yourself you cautiously walked up to the open space.

your foot crossed the threshold of the kitchen before you felt yourself pulled back.

You thrashed as you felt his much stronger arm wrap around your neck. In a headlock, you only flailed around before you remembered your apron. The mail is scattered on the floor below your feet.

Your hand grabs the syringe in one fluid motion. You stabbed his long exposed arm in front of your neck. Plunging it deep you heard an angry grunt as you pushed down on the syringe. Watching the clear viscous liquid enter his veins you knew the struggle should be over.

Pulling the needle out of him you waited to feel the muscles relax before he inevitably fell back onto the lacquered floor.

But he never did.

A dark chuckle bubbled from his throat.

You didn't have to turn to see the malice his face was probably coated in.

“I count all of my medicines every Tuesday (name)” he rustled something in his back pocket behind you. “Color me surprised when I looked last Tuesday and saw my horse tranquilizer missing” 

A wet stream of something fell into your exposed arm.

“I wanted to believe it wasn't true so I checked your Diary drawer” 

He then constricted his arm around your neck, now being strangled you could only gasp and sputter. The pain from no air entering was hurting you.

“You lied to me” The sickening tap against your skin he made before he squirted some of the liquid out of the larger syringe in his possession on you.

“So I did a little lying myself; Saline is also the same consistency as Xyaline” he chuckled to himself.

“I'd rather be dead than let you leave my garden” 

And with those words.

The dull thud into your neck. The liquid was now inserted into your bloodstream; the sickening sound of it entering your head was now all you heard. He finally let go of the back of your neck too. Catching you as your heavy body limply laid in his arms.

It felt like you were made of lead as you tried to pick your head up to no result.

It happened so fast.

Your eyes fluttered shut slowly.

Riddle waited a little while, truly examining your tired face. Brushing a few scattered hairs covering your face he pushed them back to frame the side of your sleeping face.

Yes.

Just sleeping.

Humming he held you close to his beating heart.

“I love you my Rose Pudding” he smiled. Patting the top of your head he let his other finger trail over the floral blue and yellow milkmaid dress you were wearing. Riddle was going to make your small lie a reality. You did owe him after all; this would merely make your relationship stronger. Unwrapping the lacy ribbon in the front or the dress he was already eager to begin right here in the kitchen. But ignoring his urges he lifted your dainty body now heavy with a dreamless sleep. Going up the wooden stairs he built himself he could only imagine how special it would be when he took you up these stairs after the wedding.

Your modest dress His mother will help you pick out draping down the banisters as you hold onto his neck; you giggle remarking about how he smells like a fragrant rose. He would look down at you like right now and plant many dozen kisses that night onto your tempting lips.

Reaching the landing he wouldn't bother to close the door to the bedroom. Only laying you sprawled out under the flannel cotton sheets.

Just like the first time…Temping him to let you consummate your marriage. He smiled to himself as he kneeled on top of your heavenly body.

Riddle kissed the top of your forehead.

“I love you (name)” Silence was all that he was met with. His hand finds your silky locks once more.

“I hope our baby has your beauty (name)”

-

[empty-fantasies]

Burning

Love involving Mortefi is like a flickering flame; fueled by blazing passion and embraced by gentle affection

Character(s) Included: Mortefi

gn!reader, fluff, mindless ramblings from eden once again

It takes an attentive and mindful approach to endure the fiery passion known as Mortefi’s love.

Treading carefully at the beginning of the flaming romance, as if one wrong move would create a gust of wind and take out the flame you had oh-so-painstakingly pined after for so long. It was no easy feat to come to terms with your ever growing love for the Head of the Tacetite Weaponry Branch. Nor was it any less difficult to accept the possibility of rejection should you carelessly smother that fire by beating around the bush about your sudden awkwardness the manifested upon realization.

Patience was required when the meter approaches its limits and manifests in frequent groans of frustration and a near permanent frown. The flame, as you have learned, can easily burn you if you’re not careful with your own words. He’s a straightforward man, after all. Which was evident in his rather blunt way of confessing to you that eventful day and something that had always seemingly caught you off guard in unsuspecting moments. Would you complain about this? Not at all, contrary to your playful complaints that your heart was far too fragile for such (Mortefi would rather admit to defeat against Xiangli Yao before ever confessing openly around others that he simply adored your varied reactions).

Love, in the way that Mortefi expresses it, was all consuming. There was no lack of effort on his part. A point was made for each planned date and every little moment of exploration that no words were needed to express the everlasting devotion he had for you and only you. Determination to perfect everything despite your constant reassurances that occasional mishaps and derailed plans (due to a certain someone’s habit of sacrificing his sleep every now and then) happen. It engulfed your entire being; heart, mind, and soul. Overwhelming as it may sound, you welcomed it fully and returned just as much by fanning the flames, having quickly become accustomed to the heat long before you even realized it yourself. Much to your surprise, you too have also found yourself adopting new habits just to show as much appreciation and effort as he does.

As consuming as it is, Mortefi does have an uncharacteristic gentleness that many are not privy to picking up by mere observation alone. A comforting warmth, one that reminded you of serenity found in a cup of tea on a winter night spent in bed. You wouldn’t deny that you were a bit selfish in wanting to keep this warmth to yourself at first—desiring nothing more than to bask in the fact of knowing that only you were able to experience such without limits.

Sweet-tempered fingers would dance across your skin, taking hold of your hand in silent moments when either of you are finishing up reports. Tenderhearted words responding to your curious questions about the classical music to echoes softly every now and then. A rare pink hue dancing across his cheeks the moment any small praise falls from your lips. As the fervent flames roar of adoration, they also invoke a sense of comfort shared just between the two of you. There were no walls other than the ones that shielded this flame of love from gusty winds of doubt and weariness. To bask in such has made you realize that perhaps that selfish desire for keeping it to yourself was a wish instead to keep this flame alive—to endure all this is to come in the future.

Mortefi’s love is an ardent flame; ever-consuming in the way that he has to make it known where his heart resides. Yet, it is also a soothing warmth marked by the solace found in butterfly kisses and gentle gazes. To you, the ever curious lover of his, the heat is gladly welcomed each and every single time.

[southernbluebellereader]

MASTERLIST

Who I write for: Call of Duty (Preferably MW2 and MW3); Star Trek (everything up to Enterprise + Strange New Worlds); Slashers (Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers); Jack Reacher (Alan Ritchson); SIX (coming soon)

REQUESTS: Closed | INBOX: Open | TAG LIST: Click Here | (*) = WIP

Last Update: December 29, 2023

{JACK REACHER}

| JACK REACHER (Alan Ritchson) |

General Headcanons

General Headcanons Part 2

X Fem! Southern Waitress

Peach Pie and Cream

{CALL OF DUTY}

| IMAGINES/HEADCANONS/REQUESTS |

Imagine Dancing with Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Imagine Dancing with John Price, Ghost, and Soap

Do They Know How to Take a Bra Off? (COD 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, & König)

Routines (Taskforce 141 x Southern Hairdresser Reader (PLATONIC))

Routines Part 2 (Taskforce 141 x Southern Hairdresser Reader (PLATONIC))

Tenderheart Bear (141 x People Pleaser F! Field Medic (PLATONIC))

How would the 141 react to you getting your nails done? (COD MW2) (Task Force 141 - Semi-NSFW)

(18) Request: Imagine Ghost & König with an anal vibrator

Request: 141 x Reader w/ Psoriasis & Vitiligo (SFW & Platonic)

Request: Taskforce 141 x Reader with rumors of being a slut

(18+) Request: Kvinlig Demon (141 x F! Reader w/ Womb Tattoo)

| CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE |

Requests

(18+) NSFW Price x Younger S/O & he is wrapped around your finger ;)

(18+) NSFW Daddy Price x Wife (this a little *spicy*)

Family Day (x Wife Reader; y'all and the 141 go to Disney World as a family)

Personal Nurse (x Nurse F! Reader)

Leg Warmers (x Reader w/ misaligned knee caps)

*Price begging - collar - sub!Price

X Female Escort Reader

[PART 1] Don’t Look At Me Like That (FLUFF/LITTLE ANGST)

[PART 2] Excitement in Patience (18+ MATURE)

[PART 3] Cup of Coffee (Kinda of a prequel)

X Female Wife Reader

Gray Hairs (FLUFF)

X Young Reader with Facial Scars

[PART 1] Bruised Apple (Platonic, Angst, Facial Scars, Mention of Violence)

[PART 2] Apple Slices (DITTO [Mention of Violence & Trauma])

[PART 3] Apple Pie (Platonic, going on slightly romantic, Angst, Fluffity Fluff)

X MILF Single Mom

Forbidden (Fluff, Innuendos, Brief mention of violence)

| LIEUTENANT SIMON “GHOST” RILEY |

Requests

Drake (x AFAB Teammate w/ Tattoo; Simon seeing their tattoo for the first time)

Turquesa (x AFAB Latinx Nurse Reader)

Midnight Dining (x AFAB Civilian Reader (leather jacket Ghost))

Emergency Snack Run (x AFAB Gas Station Clerk)

Personal Mechanic (Mechanic Ghost x AFAB Reader)

X Female Southern Cook

[PART 1] Midnight Snack (FLUFF & PLATONIC)

[PART 2] Tomato, Tom-ah-to (FLUFF & PLATONIC)

[PART 3] Bag of Peas (FLUFF & PLATONIC)

[PART 4] Hash Browns (FLUFF & MOSTLY PLATONIC)

[PART 5] Prickly Pear (FLUFF & DEF NOT PLATONIC ANYMORE)

[PART 6] Peaches and Cream (FLUFF, ANGST, LOVEY DOVEY)

[PART 7] Chicken and Dumplings (VERY ANGST, A LITTLE VIOLENCE)

[PART 8] Hot Links (FLUFFITY FLUFF FLUFF LOVEY DOVEY)

X Female Reader

(18+) Hot For Teacher (Simon's S/O gets a teacher costume for Halloween)

Being Chosen…By A Baby (Single Mom Reader)

| COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS |

X Female Wife Reader

Forehead Kisses (FLUFF)

Alejandro and His Big Ol' Forehead - One, Two, Three, Four

| SERGEANT KEEGAN P. RUSS (COD GHOSTS) |

Fun and Games (x F! reader) (PLATONIC) - His name is said in a funny accent

| SERGEANT KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK |

Requests

A little nosy, aren't we? (x F! Reader gets caught looking at his social media)

(18+) Car Shenanigans (x F! Reader giving head/getting fingered)

Post-Mission Angst (x AFAB Reader)

X Female Signaler/Radiowoman Reader

Guardian Angel (bubbling relationship)

| KÖNIG |

How he likes to show affection by holding you close (xGN Reader)

| COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES |

X Pregnant Wife Reader

First Time Husband (first-time pregnancy; little angst, fluff)

| SERGEANT LOGAN WALKER (COD GHOSTS) |

Requests

Headcanons (Both SFW and NSFW)

What would Logan be like as a Father? (fuffity fluff fluff)

Headcanons Part 2 (Both SFW and NSFW)

| SOBIESŁAW "GROMSKO" KOŚCIUSZKO |

General Headcanons (SFW and NSFW)

Supportive Soft Friend (SFW Fluff)

| KATE LASWELL |

x Wife Reader

My Wife (fluffity fluff fluff)

| ALEX KELLER |

x F! New Yorker Medic Reader

Polar Opposites (Golden Retriever Alex, Black Cat Reader; Fluff)

| SERGEANT JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH |

Requests

*Dilf! Johnny x Babysitter

x F! Reader

Calling Him "Stud"

{STAR TREK}

| IMAGINES/HEADCANONS |

Kirk, Spock, & Bones x Southern Reader (SFW)

Do They Know How to Take Bra Off? (Kirk, Bones, Spock, Scotty, Chekov)

| DOCTOR LEONARD “BONES” MCCOY |

X Female Nurse Practitioner

Medical Couple (FLUFF LOVEY DOVEY; TOS/REBOOT MOVIES)

| FIRST COMMANDER SPOCK |

Requests

Pop of Color (x F! Betazoid Quartermaster/Seamstress; STRANGE NEW WORLDS)

{SLASHERS}

| JASON VOORHEES |

X Female Camp Counselor

Instinct (stalking)

{SIX}

| JOE "BEAR" GRAVES |

Requests

Request: Joe Graves X Younger Wife/GF Headcanons

[paperdice]

may we please have some headcanons for Iida developing a crush on deku’s twin who’s really easygoing and free spirited? still really nice tho, super supportive of their brother.

(reader’s quirk is wild magic but they don’t go to UA)

𝐈𝐢𝐝𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐮'𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧��

"do you not realize the charm in your eyes? whatever you do, I'm falling for you."

Iida had heard of dekus sibling for awhile, small bits and pieces of them that Midoriya couldn't help but spill out in the start of the school year. Iida recalled him mentioning how they were watching the sports festival along with their mother, cheering him on.

Small and tenderhearted pieces of them would be told to Iida, yet he had never met them before due to them not attending UA. But when he did, he silently wished they met sooner.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Honestly he has no idea when the feelings truly started to grow, but from the beginning he knew he liked their at ease ways. Just as long as it wasn't getting in the way of breaking any rules of course, which luckily he didn't have to worry about when it came to them. He liked that too from the start.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 When Iida saw Deku standing next to his twin, it was a big slap in the face. the realization that they really were twins! He watched as they were asking Deku for updates about his time at UA, their voice all calm yet excited for their brother. Iida saw how genuine their support was for their brother.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 When first talking to them he noticed how easy it was to have a conversation with them, it was never difficult for Iida to conversing with others in the first place. But when it came to talking to them it felt so even weighted, like he can just go on forever with them like old friends. He found himself spilling about his admiration to brother once but they didn't seem to care, they nodded away at his words with a smile.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 They were also supportive of him too, asking questions about his quirk and the kinds of training he needs to do to maintain it. He went on and on whilst letting them even out his talking with their own.

"speaking of, what about you? what's your quirk?" he questioned with a smile of interest.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Wild magic, now that widen his eyes. His poor bubbled head didn't realize that he was expecting to hear about a physical strength quirk, due to them being Deku's sibling. But his bubble popped by them chuckling at him which caused him to embarrassingly blush so very faintly.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 They told him they knew he was going to reply like that, nothing bad! Of course he tried to push that moment aside with questions about their quirk and why they weren't at UA with their brother.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Overtime the more he hung out with them, the more their presence had an affect on him. He cared about what they thought about certain situations, something his subconscious had decided on. Why is he paying extra attention to how and why they thought about something? Why is he thinking about it against his will while eating his dinner??

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Small mistakes he made were big if done around them, they were friends and they were the last person he'd expect to be judged by. So why is he making it something way more than it was to begin with? His ears sneaking in the color red on the tips of his ears. That's weird, when he's embarrassed his face just goes red, not the ears?..

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 The even weighted conversations felt so light, all the energy he built up and dragged along through day was slowly melting. He was so at ease himself, he had to keep reminding himself that he still had some stuff left to do so he couldn't get too comfortable.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Whenever Deku spoke of his sibling at school Iida couldn't help but listen intently to the updates. He often thought of them more after those updates, smiling at made up thoughts of them.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Sometimes they'd show off their quirk to Iida since he can't see it in action all the time. He stares with pure admiration, in the start it was because of the magic itself. Now, he was staring at them with the same admiring eyes.

Then it hits..

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Deep down he knew that he had been crushing on them, a part of him was okay with that but the other was shaken up. He felt like he needed to do something about it but he was fine with leaving it at that??

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 His heart would melt like lit candle wax whenever he was being encouraged by them. Their calm dazzling flame melts him when he least expects it.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 He might not even realize that he was asking questions to Deku about his sibling so casually.

"interesting, does your sibling like those too?" the dork states it more as a fact rather than a question, how sweet.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 When speaking to them he can't help the spark that lights in his eyes when they ask him about how he's been. "Why how kind of them!" he's probably thinking while slightly puffing out his chest with pride and yapping about his life progress. With pink tinted cheeks

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 Iida loved how supportive they were to Deku, he saw how their heart bloomed with love and support for his success. The sight always made Iida smile, sometimes it reminds him of his younger self towards his older brother. What a kind heart they have.

He smiles every time he thinks of them, maybe he should ask for help over this crush?..

Thank you so much for the request! First one on the blog you lucky roll! I hope you enjoyed it <333

[grimace-writes]

New Kid New Mission

{NKIT No 3}

GN!Reader x Task Force 141

DNI IF YOU AREN'T A FAN OF VIOLENCE!!

{TW: THIS STORY CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES, FIGHTING, DEATH, G*NS! PURLEY FICTION!!}

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

Summary: It’s been over a year since {Y/N} joined Task Force 141, they were given the post of being the team’s medic. They enjoyed having the opportunity not to be strictly forced to cause harm, though they trained as equally as hard as the others. Unfortunately for Task Force 14, slip ups still happen. Due to some unforeseen circumstances on a intel gathering operation, the team find themselves in this situation. Will they make it out?

Word count: 2199

(3rd Person POV | They/Them so anyone can read :) | Early to Mid Twenties)

[Enjoy! (๑ º ᗜ < ๑) ⋆｡˚✩]

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They were shoved through countless halls, the burlap sack on their face made their skin crawl but it didn’t mean anything to what could come next. {Y/N} groaned, clenching their jaw as they were roughly shoved to the ground, the tight grip of the handcuffs holding their hands behind their back made it impossible to brace the impact. Scuffling footsteps and familiar voices filled the room, their team were being held in the same room, though one voice was missing. ‘Where is Soap.’

{Y/N} was hoisted roughly up by their arms into a kneeling position then the sack was ripped from over their head. They winced as an aggressively harsh light hit their eyes, once they could adjust, the scene before them made their blood boil with unadulterated rage. 

Kneeling in front of them was Gaz, Price, and Ghost, bloodied and bruised with their hands tight behind their backs and a gag over their mouths. The field medic took shaky breaths as they counted the many possible injuries they had under their uniforms, but knew Ghost had it the worst. His maskless face had plenty of visible wounds, which fueled their rage even more, ‘I’ll find his mask after I get information on our Johnny boy.’ 

{Y/N}’s gaze snapped their capture, the tone of their voice sent chills down the spines of everyone in the room. “I’m gonna ask this once nicely, Where the fuck is Soap?”

{Y/N} got quite the reputation for being the tenderhearted person amongst Task Force 141, they never raised their voice or cursed more than a simple ‘shit’ now and again. This was a new sight, not even their team had seen, it almost made them feel bad for their capturers. Their uncomfortably calm demeanor made the likes of Ghost fearful as the two guards stepped away from the medic. 

“You don’t call the shots we do.” One of them spoke up, he was the bigger of the two, his voice deep with a heavy foreign accent that {Y/N} couldn’t quite place. Though it didn’t really matter to them as {Y/N} rammed their head into the big man’s gut, causing him to double over in pain. 

{Y/N} was hit in the cheek by the butt by the second guard’s gun making them fall onto their side. “You dumb c#?!..You shouldn’t have done that..” Guard 2 said, aiming his pistol towards {Y/N}’s head, their team screaming against their gags pleading to spare them. 

“No you shouldn’t have..” {Y/N} basically growled as they kicked Guard 2 in the groin making him drop his knees and loosen his grip on the pistol, now clattering to the floor. They took this as an opportunity to kick the gun towards their Captain, swinging their legs around to get themselves standing. Guard 1 stood up recovering from {Y/N}’s first blow, it clearly looked like an unfair match, two men versus a field medic with their hands tied behind their back.

{Y/N} bent their knees into their best guarded position before they quickly ran towards Guard 2 hopping over his crouched form. They kicked him in the back causing Guard 1 to trip over his partner, giving Y/N an opening to roundhouse him into the wall closest to them, rendering him unconscious.

Guard 2 rolled over on his back as he tried to regain composure to fight back, {Y/N}’s foot landed hard on his chest knocking the air from his lungs. “Don’t move..Now I’m gonna ask again, while I’m still being nice. Where. Is. My. Sergeant?”

Guard 2 gasped, “ I-I don’t know who you are talking about..Why would I tell you anything..”

“We came here with a loud Scot with a Mohawk, is that ringing any bells? I just kicked your ass with my hands behind my back..It’s wise to tell me the truth or I’ll show you what the fuck I can really do without my damn hands tied.” {Y/N}’s leaned down with a dark look on their face making the guard feel like pissing himself. 

“He’s down the hall..” Guard 2 whimpered out before {Y/N} quickly collided their knee into his face to knock him out. They felt around the unconscious guard’s hands to get the keys to the handcuffs, luckily it was in his front pocket. {Y/N} quietly walked over to Price first to have him help unlock their cuffs, which they repaid the kindness with a small smile on their face. They untied the rag keeping him gagged, then gently removed it from his mouth. {Y/N} handed the keys to their Captain for him to unlock other’s cuffs as they walked over to Guard 1 searching his coat pockets. Stuffed inside his breast pocket was Ghost’s signature mask, {Y/N} took great care handling the mask as they went over to its owner. 

Ghost stood by their teammates rubbing his wrists looking at {Y/N} as they approached. “Here..” Their voice barely above a whisper, handing it to him sheepishly not looking at his face out of respect, earning a hum of thanks. {Y/N} didn’t look at Ghost until he had the mask fully back on, they looked over his arms for any active bleeding wounds to only find scabs and bruises. “I’ll be good, luv. Check on the others.”

{Y/N} nodded looking at Gaz next, they gently took his face in their hands to observe his facial injuries. He winced at the physical contact whilst giving a pained chuckle,”Careful, beautiful. I’m fragile.” He earned a small snort from the medic who moved to look at the rest of him, finding a similar pattern of wounds to Ghost’s. They went to turn to their Captain, though he took their hand in his before they could check his wounds. Price tenderly held their arm up to wipe the debris from the small cuts caused by them falling on the uneven concrete. Unfortunately the only cloth to his disposal was the gag that once was in his mouth, but they weren’t in a position to bicker about proper sanitation. 

“I’m fine, hen. I’ve had more than my fair share of battle wounds, we can worry more about it later.” Price said, giving {Y/N} a reassuring smile. “As of now we need to find Soap, get the intel we came for and eliminate any targets that get in the way before we rendezvous with evac. That is if they even have us at the right facility.” With how they were ambushed, Price couldn’t be sure they were at the original target location. 

“Better to split into two groups, one gets a message to the chopper and the other gets Johnny.” Ghost voiced as he searched the guards for any more weapons or details of the team's whereabouts.

“Alright then, You and {C/N} will get Soap, Gaz and I will meet you back here once evac is called. Try to find any details about this place as you can, especially the maps and shipment documents. And most importantly, keep each other alive.” Price ordered placing the guard’s gun in the back of his waistband before he and Gaz exited the room, leaving the other two to come up with a plan to find Soap. 

Ghost held a small pocket knife he picked from the guards out to {Y/N}, “Not much but it’ll work in a pinch.” They reluctantly took the blade since it seemed to be the only physical weapon between them. Though the remembrance of Ghost being a weapon himself, quickly faded their concerns as they walked over to the door with Ghost taking the lead. 

The hallway was empty as they went the opposite direction of Price and Gaz, the faculty they were in starting to match the data they had gathered before the mission. The possibility of victory was increasing. 

{Y/N} ran forwards, slid onto the ground to swipe the unsuspecting enemy ahead off his feet into Ghost’s waiting arms. The lieutenant covered his mouth as he snapped the guards neck then slumped the lifeless body against the wall. {Y/N} searched his pockets finding a handgun along with a cell phone, they used the corpse’s finger to unlock the device before handing Ghost the gun. 

“Looks like this one was high on the food chain. He has their entire schematics on here along with shipment time..Score.” They scrolled through the phone more, only looking up when they heard the click of Ghost checking the magazine’s ammo count. “According to this, Soap is being held close by..”

{Y/N} slipped the phone into their back pocket leading the way towards their captive teammate position, they stopped at the edge of the hall to check for any guards outside the door. Coast is clear. They moved forward, gently pulling the handle down to test if it’s unlocked. “Damn, of course it’s not gonna be that easy,” {Y/N} cursed under their breath, taking a step back to look for a new way in. The map showed a vent that connected the hallway to the room, Soap was being held in, that’s their way in. “Ghost, I need to get into that vent, mind giving me a hand.”

He almost wanted to question their motives but this wasn’t the best time, Ghost just went over cupping his hands together and held them out as a boost for {Y/N} to climb on his shoulders. They jammed their knife in the seam of the vent grille removing it with haphazard care as they threw it to the side. {Y/N} was hoisted up by their lieutenant into the ventilation shaft. “When you hear the signal, you kick the door down and join me,” they said, ascending further before Ghost could question what they meant.

{Y/N} got to the other side, kicking the vent grille out comically hitting the guard that was about to torture Soap in the side of his head. The other two guards held their guns up at {Y/N} as they snaked out of the vent, they then stood tall with all the rage they’ve collected in their eyes towards the barrels of the guns. “If you are planning on shooting, you better not miss..” 

“DUCKIE!” Soap cheered loudly, which Ghost assumed was the signal kicking the door near its handle to swiftly open it. He made quick work shooting the enemies in the room, whilst {Y/N} dodged any crossfire to get to Soap. They used the pocket knife to cut the ropes holding him to the chair he was seated in, standing up when the room was clear. 

“Aren’t I glad to see the likes of you two, where is the Cap and Gaz?” Soap said stretching his arms and legs out staying seated for a moment to relax. {Y/N} moved to face Soap to get a better look at his visible injuries, a gash above his left brow made them worry the most. “They went to search the rest of the facility for the intel and get a message out for evac.” Ghost explained gathering any ammo from the fallen guards, only obtaining a magazine and half worth of ammo. 

Soap gave a hum of acknowledgement to the details, though his thoughts were occupied by {Y/N}’s scrunched nose as they worried about his condition. “Duckie if you hold that face any longer it’s gonna stick that way..I’m fine, a few punches aren’t gonna take me down.” His signature smile dashing across his face, lifting his colleagues spirits as his confidence was contagious. “Yeah, whatever you say, Suddies.” {Y/N} replied, giving Soap a playful but gentle punch on the shoulder.

The three followed the map back to the regroup room, where Price and Gaz were looking over the intel as they waited patiently for the others to arrive. “Good to see you all made it back in one piece, it seems we all finished our tasks successfully.” Price said in a relieved tone to his team then he stored the documents on his person and motioned for them to follow his lead towards the exit. As much as he hoped for them to escape covertly, the misfortunes of this mission just kept coming as an absurdly loud alarm blared, signaling the base of their escape. Their only option was to make a break for the exit, make it to the forest and lose them in the trees until they reached the helicopter. 

Ghost and Price took the lead as the others followed close behind, they quickly were able exit the building to a large gate leading in the direction of their destination. The enemy began their assault on the team who tried to dodge the shots in the open area. Price turned to return fire to cover the others, he made eye contact with {Y/N} with horror in his eyes. 

The image of their figure illuminated by the searchlights stumbled forward holding their side, blood beginning to seep through the thick uniform. “No..It’s not supposed to be like this..” 

“{C/N}!”

To be continued…

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Author's Note: I know, how dare I end this on a cliffhanger. Don't fret, Kittens~ For this all part of the plan. The next chapter will be separated into a Epilogue along with 4 parts to include long awaited Romance.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. Let me know what you thought of it, Love Love~

(o´ ω `o)💕💕

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |