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coolemmasulivan2 · 4 months ago

Text

Lightweight

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Reader

Summary: After celebrating Women’s Day with your friends, you get a little tipsy and call Pedri for a ride home.

Word count: 1951

Y si me preguntan, diré que Una pelinegra me tiene enviciado Por ella, pongo mi mundo a sus pies Es que ese culo me tiene hoockeado

Pedri was lying on the sofa, watching TV with his brother, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and smiled as soon as he saw your name on the screen.

"Hola, guapa!" Pedri said, a smile in his voice. (Hello, beautiful!)

From the other side of the line, he heard you giggle. "Hola, mi amor." Your voice was soft, a little slower than usual, and he could tell right away, you had been drinking. (Hello, my love.)

"¿Estás bien?" He asked. (Are you okay?)

"I drank a little." You admitted.

"Ya lo sé!" he chuckled. "Do you need me to pick you up?" (I can tell!)

"¡Por favor!" (Please!)

"I'm leaving now. Stay where you are, okay?" He heard you agree from the other side and then hung up.

Fer looked at his brother. "She's drunk?"

Pedri stood up and grabbed his sneakers, slipping them on. "Yeah! She went out to dinner with her friends to celebrate Women's Day. I guess they had a few drinks."

He ran upstairs to grab his hoodie before heading back down, where his brother had already claimed his spot on the sofa. Pedri grabbed his car keys, and walked out the door.

Pedri drove through the quiet streets of Barcelona, the city lights flickering past as he made his way to the restaurant where you and your friends had been celebrating. He could already picture you, cheeks flushed from the drinks, eyes shining with happiness, probably giggling over something silly. The thought made him smile.

When he pulled up outside, he spotted you immediately. You were standing near the entrance with a few of your friends, swaying slightly as you laughed at something one of them said. The moment your eyes landed on his car, your entire face lit up.

"Pedro!" You squealed, waving at him as if he hadn't already seen you.

You always called him that in public. Pedri was the name that made heads turn, the name that fans recognized instantly. But Pedro? That was just him, not the football star. While the rest of the world chanted Pedri, you were happy keeping Pedro just for yourself.

Your friends giggled, exchanging amused looks. "She's all yours." One of them teased as he approached them.

"¡Viniste!" You said, hugging him. (You came!)

Pedri chuckled as he hugged you back. "Come on, guapa." He said, opening the car door and helping you inside. He closed the door and looked at your friends. "Do you girls need a ride home?"

"No need! I already called my partner."

Pedri said his goodbyes and walked toward his side. He put the seatbelt around your body and once you were buckled in, you turned to him, eyes shining. "Gracias, mi amor." You murmured, squeezing his hand.

He kissed your knuckles softly. "Did you have fun?"

"Sí!" You said, grinning. "We ate so much, and then we had cocktails because, you know, Women's Day! We deserved it!"

Pedri smiled as he pulled away from the restaurant. "Of course you did, guapa. You're such a lightweight."

You gasped, placing a dramatic hand on your chest. "¿Perdón? I am not a lightweight!" (Excuse me?)

Pedri laughed, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, not-a-lightweight."

A few minutes into the drive, you suddenly gasped.

"Pedri?"

He glanced at you, amused. "¿Qué?" (What?)

"I'm starving."

He laughed. "Didn't you just eat?"

"Yes, but that was hours ago!" You whined. "And alcohol makes me hungry!"

Pedri sighed playfully. "¿Entonces, qué quieres?" (So, what do you want?)

You thought for a moment, then gasped again. "¡Papas fritas!" (Fries!)

He shook his head with a smile. "Alright, drive-thru it is."

"You're the best boyfriend ever, you know that?" You murmured.

Pedri smirked. "I know. But tell me again in the morning."

With a bag of fries in your lap and a milkshake in your hand, you were perfectly content as Pedri pulled into his driveway. But the moment you realized where you were, your happy daze faded, replaced by instant panic.

"Espera… espera, no, Pedri, ¿por qué me trajiste aquí? I can't go in like this!" You whisper-shouted, sitting up straight. (Wait-- wait, no, Pedri, why did you bring me here?)

Pedri parked the car and turned to you, amused. "¿Por qué no? It's not like you're a stranger." (Why not?)

"¡Pero tus padres!" You stressed, eyes wide. "What if they see me like this? They'll think I'm irresponsible! Or a mess! Or--" (But your parents!)

Pedri shook his head, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Relájate, amor. No están en casa." (Relax, amor. They're not home.)

You blinked. "What?"

"They went back to Tenerife for a week." He explained with a small smile. "It's just me and Fer."

You let out a breath of relief, sinking back into the seat. "Oh, thank god."

Pedri laughed, getting out of the car to help you. "Come on, let's get you inside before you start overthinking again."

You pouted but let him take your hand, letting him guide you up to the house, fries still in your other hand. "I wasn't overthinking…" You mumbled.

Pedri smirked. "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."

As Pedri unlocked the front door, you stepped inside and immediately spotted Fer lounging on the sofa, eyes glued to the TV. The second you saw him, a wide grin spread across your face.

"FERRRR!" You squealed, abandoning Pedri as you rushed over to his brother.

Fer barely had time to react before you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. He let out a surprised laugh, patting your back. "¡Hey, hey, cálmate!" (Hey, hey, take it easy!)

"You're my favourite brother-in-law." You mumbled against his shoulder.

"I'm the only one you have!" Fer chuckled, glancing at Pedri, who was standing nearby watching you two. "She's really drunk, isn't she?"

"¡Completamente!" Pedri confirmed, tossing his car keys onto the counter. (Completely!)

Fer pulled back, looking down at you with a teasing smile. "You really shouldn't drink."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't handle the alchool."

Pedri leaned down, poking your cheek. "Come on, lightweight, let's go to bed before you start getting affectionate over the pillows too."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I hate you."

He smirked, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. "No, you don't."

"You're right. You're too pretty to hate." You sighed dramatically. "It's so unfair how handsome you are. I should sue."

"I'd like to see you try." He teases.

Fer groaned. "Okay, that's my cue to go to bed."

Pedri laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guided you toward the stairs.

"Buenas noches, Fer." (Goodnight)

"Buenas noches, lightweight." Fer called after you, making you groan as Pedri led you upstairs.

As soon as you stepped into Pedri's room, you let out a tired sigh and flopped down onto his bed, your body sinking into the familiar softness.

"Your bed is so comfy." You mumbled, stretching like a cat. "Igual que tú." You smirked to him. (Just like you.)

Pedri chuckled, kicking the door shut behind him. "Yeah? Well, you're not sleeping with makeup on, are you?"

With a dramatic sigh, you pushed yourself up, letting Pedri kneel in front of you with a pack of makeup wipes in hand, something you had left behind. He took one out and gently pressed it against your cheek, his touch soft as he wiped away the foundation.

"You take better care of me than I do." You murmured, watching him through sleepy eyes.

"Porque te amo." He continued his slow, careful work, wiping away the mascara and lipstick until your face was fresh and clean. "There! Much better." (Because I love you)

You gave him a sleepy smile. "Gracias, mi amor." (Thank you my love)

"Not done yet." He teased, reaching for the hem of your dress. "Arms up."

You blinked, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Pedri…" You drawled, raising an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes, already knowing where your drunk mind was going. "Guapa, don't start."

You giggled, tilting your head. "You just had to get me out of my dress, huh?"

Pedri let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, because you can't sleep in that thing. Now, arms up."

Still grinning, you lifted your arms, letting him pull the dress over your head. He tossed it aside and reached for one of his oversized T-shirts, slipping it over you quickly, keeping himself in control and ignoring your nakedness.

"There!" He said, kissing the tip of your nose. "Now you can sleep."

You giggled, snuggling into the shirt that smelled like him. "I love your T-shirts."

"I know." He said smugly, pulling back the covers. "Now get in bed before you start flirting with me again."

You wiggled your eyebrows. "Too late."

Pedri groaned, but the smile on his face gave him away. "Go to sleep, amor." He said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sighed happily as you slid under the blankets. "¿Y tú?" (What about you?)

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I'm just going to take a quick shower, then I'll join you."

But before he could move, you grabbed his arm, pulling him closer with a whiny tone. "¡No! No me dejes sola." You protested, your voice slightly slurred. (No! Don't leave me alone.)

Pedri chuckled, amused by how stubborn you could be even when drunk. "It's just a shower, I'll be right back."

You shook your head, tugging him down so your faces were inches apart. "No!" You insisted, your eyes locking with his. "Either I take a shower with you, or you take it in the morning. But I'm not staying here by myself."

He laughed, clearly amused by your determination. "You're impossible, you know that?" He takes off his clothes and lays down next to you. "Go to sleep, amor. I'm right here."

You nodded contentedly, snuggling closer to him. "Te amo." (I love you.)

He kissed the top of your head. "Yo también te amo." He murmured, wrapping his arms around you. (Love you too.)

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains. You stretched lazily, your body still wrapped in the warmth of the blankets and Pedri's arms. His face was buried in your hair, breathing softly. Your head was pouding but you couldn't help feeling content and peaceful, but then you noticed something.

Pedri's phone was buzzing loudly on the nightstand, the alarm going off like a siren. He stirred next to you, groaning in his sleep, but when the alarm went off again, his eyes snapped open.

"¡Mierda!" He muttered, sitting up quickly. (Shit!)

"¿Qué pasa?" (What's wrong?)

He rubbed his face, looking at the time and his phone screen. "I'm late for training!" He scrambled out of bed, running his hand through his hair. You sat up, watching him move around the room, clearly in a rush. "I need to shower really quickly."

You smirked, a grin tugging at your lips. "I can shower with you, make it extra fast."

"No!" He said quickly, shaking his head. "If we shower together, you'll make me even more late."

You pouted, kneeling on the bed. "I won't! I promise."

He looked at you with a pleading expression. "I love you, but I'm not risking being late because you're too distracting."

You raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "Distracting? Me?"

Pedri sighed and grabbed a towel. "Yes! Now, you stay here, and I'll shower fast. I'll make it up to you later, okay?"

Before he could pull away, you leaned in and caught his lips in a soft kiss. He froze for a moment, then smiled against your lips.

"You better, Pedro!"

#pedri #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri x you #pedri fluff

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 month ago

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IF YOU LIE DOWN WITH ME

day twelve of the june bug masterlist

pairing: husband! joel miller x fem! reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: what a typical, domestic sunday looks like for you and joel. the perfect sunday- that is

warnings: SOO FLUFFY ARGH! but mentions of smut, eating out/ fingering, breeding kink, daddy kink- lots of pet names, nuturing, heavy praise

my first time writing joel please be nice hehe

"put your red boots on, baby, giddy up baby wants a dance, baby gets her way treat me nice, talk to me with that whiskey breath twirl me twice, i'll treat you like a holiday"- if you lie down with me, lana del rey

“Pick out whatcha want honey.” Joel murmured beside you, watching your eyes flickering around to all the vendors.

Everything was full of colour, catching your eye. Bright red strawberries that looked so juicy your mouth practically watered. Deep blues from the blueberries, contrasted with the bright yellow of the corn hidden in husks.

The farmers market was your favourite place on earth.

Except for Joels arms, of course.

You felt a gentle hand wrapping around to rest on your hip, drawing you closer to your boyfriend so you were snug next to him. Breathing in the familiar scent of cedarwood, leather and campfire smoke- you looked up at him, eyes sparkling like emeralds.

Sundays were the best days.

It was the day you dressed up in your softest dresses, with patterns like gingham, polka dots and florals. A little purse adorned your outfit, even though you knew Joel would not only pay for everything, but carry it too.

It made him equally as happy, to spend time with you, and to show you off to everyone in the neighbourhood.

To watch you chat with the local vendors- knowing them all by name, to observe the way your fingers traced over little handmade items like soft knitted blankets or lavender soaps.

Today was no different.

It was warm and sunny, the birds chirping in the trees that tried to stretch their branches over the park and the vendors within it. And yet, the sunlight that filtered through the leaves seemed to follow you as you walked.

“I’m thinking some berries we can put on Martha’s pies. And some fresh veggies for dinner tonight.”

That was another thing Joel loved about Sundays. The dinner you made from whatever ingredients you savaged was always exquisite.

“Anything for my girl.” he whispered, planting a kiss to the top of your head as you giggled. You touched your pearl necklace subconsciously, a gift from Joel that made you feel like a china doll. It had become a staple in your wardrobe, and you always got the best compliments from it.

Hence, the sweet remark Martha made as you made your way to her booth, giving you a sweet smile. You two are just the cutest. I say that everytime, don't I? I’m getting so old.

You felt Joel give your hand a gentle squeeze as you browsed her selection of pies and baked goods, chatting away with her as you made your choices. A sweet strawberry pie for tonight, and a loaf of sourdough to go with the stew you wanted to make later on.

Then it was onto the next. It was soothing to Joel in a way, the simple, domestic routine.

Your excitement over simple, little things made his heart soar. Tommy joked he was like a bodyguard, always just slightly behind you, observing any interaction you had with others silently.

But he didnt care. It was natural at this point, especially here. You'd talk to the locals, and he chimed in when he felt it was appropriate. But today was your time, and he was just thankful to be a part of it.

So he watched as you combed through each stall, taking your sweet time. Grabbing some jam, because you were nearly out and he always liked some on his toast. A beeswax candle because Maria’s birthday was coming up and she always had some burning whenever you two came for a weekly dinner.

And more strawberries, which box did he think looked the best?

When you had wrapped up your shopping, waving your goodbyes- he happily carried bags of goods in one hand, holding your hand in the other as he guided you back to his pickup truck.

You were instructed to wait, as you always were- and you listened to the older man, as you always did. He held the door open for you, guiding you inside and ensuring your seatbelt was done up and comfortable before he felt good to start the vehicle.

Once the truck rolled into the gravel driveway, the Sunday routine carried on.

You lit a candle, humming to yourself softly as Joel helped you organize the ingredients- where and how you wanted them. You threw on your apron as he opened a window, letting the gentle breeze slip inside, blowing loose strands of hair and smelling of fresh flowers in the gardens.

The flowers Joel had got you today were in a vase already, next to the vinyl he placed down, crackling to life from static to a soft melody you could hum along to. Every so often Joel would look up from his book, adjusting his little reading glasses as he’d watch you with admiration he never had for anyone but you.

He’d watch as you’d chop the veggies, adding fresh herbs from the garden to the simmering pot. The feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist, and chin resting on the top of your head sometimes made you jump if you were in your own little world, like this evening.

You giggled as he kissed the top of your head, spinning you round and picking you up onto the counter to kiss you deeper, his hands wandering across your soft skin, making you feel warm and fuzzy. Sweet praises whispered as you tended to the food, always making your confidence skyrocket.

Looks so good honey, I’m such a lucky man. Smells fuckin delicious sweetheart. Look at my girl eh? Cookin for her old man, such a sweet lil thing.

Once plates were cleared and dessert was finished, he swung you in his arms, holding you close as the two of you slow danced in the kitchen.

Your socks always covered his, a little height added to your frame as you stood on his toes. Arms draped over his shoulders, around his neck as he moved you to the beat of the music, humming the lyrics in that low, southern drawl of his.

Dance me all around the room, spin me like a ballerina, super high- dance me all around the moon, light me up like the Fourth of July…

Some nights, he let you curl in his lap like a cat as he read from his book to you, in that large armchair of his, his little reading lamp perched over his shoulder, the soft yellow glow illuminating the pages.

Some nights he would strum his guitar on the porch, singing sweet tunes to you that were so soothing your eyes would start to droop.

Others, he’d run you a bath, massaging your muscles because you worked so hard for him, and you were so good to him, treated him so well. Took care of him the way he needed you too.

But every night was the same, when he’d carry you up the creaking wooden stairs to bed, laying you down on the quilted bed and making sweet love to you until you were overcome with sleep.

Focusing on your pleasure, your needs as his tongue would slide between your folds, fingers pumping and curling just the way you liked.

He read you like one of his novels that sat dog eared and coffee stained downstairs on the bookcase- he knew what made your toes curl and cry his name.

The sound of his name, the pants and moans of daddy on your tongue was sweeter than any strawberry pie and fresh berries. He craved it, needing it to get him through the day. Needed the image of your eyes rolling back in your head as he entered you slowly, filling you to the brim with his seed, and plugging it in because he wanted to keep you stuffed and full always.

Needed to care for you afterwards, wrapping you up in his arms under the sheets, making sure you were clean and relaxed, eyes fluttering shut as he cooed sweet nothings to you.

The steady beat of his heart lured you to sleep every night- it was your version of white noise. The steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you dreamt made him feel secure enough to close his own eyes, drifting off into his own dreamscape.

It was bliss. It was heaven.

And it was the perfect Sunday.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fandom

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diejager · 1 year ago

Note

if you’re still writing for the monster 141, what about a bay hybrid reader, who is just on the edges on going into hibernation because the base is in a colder area/remote snowy location

I’m gonna assume you mean bear?

Cw: bear hybrid!readr, hibernation, binge eating, hoarding, tell me if I missed any.

Winter was creeping closer and closer by each day, your instinctual need to sleep away the cold calling to you louder than the prior days. There was a bone-deep exhaustion that clung to you, the heaviness that cold weather brought to you was a constant and nagging feeling that urged you deeper in the nest you’d built yourself in your dark room. Your curtains drawn, lights often closed and locks installed, you’d spent the weeks preparing, hoarding soft pillows, thick blankets and clothes from people you were familiar with.

They were surprised when you brought it up, blinking tiredly and occasionally yawning in the afternoon, stumbling between everyone’s rooms with a small plea on the tip of your tongue. You took whatever they were willing to give you: a blanket from Price and Rudolfo, a shirt from König and Gaz, a jacket from Ghost and Horangi, and a pillow from Soap and Alejandro. As long as it smelled like them, a lingering reminder that you weren’t alone in your humid room, their musk grounding and safety. You wouldn’t be alone.

Price had known you were - like most bears - prone to hibernation, taking between one to three month of your year sleeping away the cold, sinking into your mountain of fabric and sleeping off the coldest months. Your time depended on the year, the warmer it was, the less you slept, and the colder it was, the longer you slept. It might’ve been a bother in people’s eyes - humans - but it was instinctual, a primal part of your brain that still clung to your ancestors who strayed from the path of being normal bears. You couldn’t ignore the pull, the call to sleep, it wasn’t possible for a bear like you, and you were fortunate to have such accommodating teammates.

You grew hungrier, your stomach becoming an endless pit, an abyss that kept taking dish after dish, stocking up in fat and calories that you’d burn during your sleep, keeping you sustained and alive without having to wake up. You ate whatever you that was within your reach, the cold bread, the warm milk, the leftover of two days ago or Soap’s surprisingly good cooking, nothing was safe when you were a big and grumpy and hungry bear near hibernation. Ever supportive and helpful, Soap and Alejandro would jump in to cook for you, hooking Gaz and Rudolfo into being their sous-chef whenever they were free. It was the delicious scent of home cooked and warm meals that brought you to the kitchen, if it wasn’t a call for fixing up someone, it was the smell of good food.

You were ravenous, gulping down the many, many plates the duo - occasionally quartet - placed on the table, their chests puffed up pridefully at your quick eating, you were practically breathing them in. Your constant eating helped you pack some weight, your skin stretched to accommodate your growing amount of fat that would ultimately burn over the months. And when the day came, you were low on energy, grumpy and easy to anger, your patience running paper thin, bidding your goodbyes and see you soon, wrapping your arms around them and teasing them about missing you during your lockdown.

You’d sleep through the cold winter months and wake up to a warmer and busier time, to a welcoming and excited team that had spent the better half of winter waiting impatiently for the TF’s medic to wake up.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

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demon-at-peace · 1 month ago

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DC + DP

Danny was dead, but he wasn't and it felt wrong. It made him feel out of place in life, his family smiled at him. They loved him, and Danny knew, he knew if they ever found out his secret they'd hate him.

But they might not and he hated that more, he hated the fact that if he told them the truth it might not change anything. That maybe just maybe they'd love him the same. He didn't think they would though, he was pretty sure they'd hate him. And if they didn't...

Well they wouldn't accept him, it would be terse smiles, while they pretended it wasn't true. While they preteneded he was the same as ever.

So he kept his silence, and instead he was the one with a wooden smile pretending to be fine. pretending they'd accept him if he told them the truth.

Things had changed, they no longer hunted Phantom, no longer spat their hatred of ghosts. They'd been proven wrong after he'd taken the throne. Still he knew they didn't like ghosts.

They still made comments, about their lack of love, lack of humanity. How they weren't sapient, or some other nonsense. So he smiled, and pretended everything was fine. It wasn't but he'd been pretending for years at this point.

He told them before college, he knew it was cowardly, telling them before he left, so he could run, and not return. So he could escape. They didn't scream, just stared at him with confusion, with loss. Danny was counting down the days till he could get out.

They didn't reject him, they smiled, and laughed but everything was different. Except him, he was the same, he'd just stopped lying. He left days after with bags he'd packed days ago and a goodbye that was rushed.

Then he was gone, moving into a dorm that stank like mold, a community kitchen that didn't have the right utensils, and with showers far too small. It was a freedom of sorts.

He met his roommate, Jason was tall, gruff, the classic football jock, who also happened to be a lititure nerd, gods he was like Mr. Lancers Child. swearing on pride and prejudice and all. it was honestly so cute.

Right, did Danny mention he was hot, and smart, and like really hot? Yeah, well he was, and Danny may be smitten? Because he baked for him! Baked! Cookies tarts pies, he'd wake up and it would be on their shoddy dorm table. Or he'd get gifts, he was so sweet.

Danny wasn't to be outdone. He’d fix Jason’s gear, guns and coms. Making whatever Jason needed. Be it fixing his laptop so he could finish his English essay or super villain weapons.

The only problem was the bats. Ugh they kept interfering, lecturing him about helping crime bosses and other nonsense. Like what did they expect him to do, let his boyfriend go out there without the best stuff? hell no.

He didn't tell Jason, but they kept finding his labs, like they were in the sewers, no one went in the sewers! why were they finding him? He huffed as he lugged the gear, he had to move again! the light one, shiny one? tall guy with curly hair? And the yellow uniform? yeah Danny couldn't remember his name but he'd found his base again!

He sighed grumpily, Grundy waved to him as he passed and Danny smiled at his fellow undead. This time he thought he lay a trap, for the bats. He huffed before grining, damn them and their lectures, if he trapped them they'd think better than to mess with him!

Due to his plan it took him a few extra hours to set up his lab, and putting glow in the dark stars on the ceiling but come on those were a must.

It took almost two weeks before the Bats found him, predictable they fell right into his trap, and right into the realms. Jason would be so proud of him, he'd dealt with them, besides he could release them whenever so they weren't dead or something! Not that being dead was bad, he was dead and he thought it was rather comfortable.

He portaled led to the apartment, Jason greeted him with a wave, and Danny grinned. "Hi!" he greeted cheerily.

Jason looked at him dead pan. "What did you do Danny?" he asked deadpan.

Danny pouted. "Nothing," he whined dramatically.

"Darling please just tell me?" Jason offers and Danny folds at the pet name.

"Fine, well you know how the bats keep finding my labs!" Danny grimaces at the thought. "Well I trapped them!"

"Where?" Jason asks though he's unable to hide a smile.

"The realms duh!" Danny grins.

"Danny, normal humans can't survive in the realms, let them out!" Jason explains still with a slight smile on his face.

"But!" Danny protests.

"No, Danny!" Jason scolds.

"Fine," with a snap of Danny's finger two bats are sent tumbling onto the floor, Danny startles, "Shit your mask!" But it's to late.

"Little wing?" Nightwing croaks.

---

I'm sorry, anyhow been a while since I did this ship, tbh I'm more into Dan/Jason right now but dead on main is a classic. Also I'm a sucker for the nickname Darling, or love, ect.

Bye!

#also realizing the beginning has the same emotional vibes as coming out?#yeah idk #danny fenton #dpxdc #batfam

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rhenysz · 7 months ago

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Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 3

Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all life, manu people say that death was lurking around your eyes, Maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.

A/n: I... Well, hello. So, Merry Christmas? I didn't fix this properly...

*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with a little help from a A.i. So, let me know if there are any grammatical errors*

Word count: 3k

Warnings: None that I can remember, some humor, tension , Azriel being a dumb mother hen

previous x next

Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand had already left when you came downstairs for breakfast. Nesta grumbled that they hadn't even eaten before spreading their wings to the sky, making everything around them flutter – including the newly planted rose saplings of Elain, to her great displeasure.

Feyre often returned home in hopes that the queens had already responded. The delay was noticeable given how long ago the letter had been sent, and it was a shot in the dark trying to guess what might have happened, though you doubted the letter had gotten lost in transit, and, mind you, you weren't foolish enough to think it was their indecision.

They were making the High Lord wait for pure amusement, and maybe a little bit of sadism. The human queens were in control of the situation, and that made everything even more delicious. A power struggle where, for the first time, the weaker ones were in charge. It must have been painful to even consider discarding this succulent opportunity that had been handed to them on a golden platter—one in a million, truly.

Bringing the steaming cup of tea to your lips, you sipped cautiously to avoid burning yourself; there was no pain worse than burning your tongue – well, maybe stubbing your toe, you mused with a hum. A gust of wind passed through your hair, signaling that someone was passing by in a hurry.

“Don’t run around the house, Elain,” Nesta grumbled from her spot at the table, clearly not a morning person. Your second eldest sister slipped on the floor and turned back to stop by your side, placing one of her delicate hands on your shoulder to alert you of her presence.

Taking a deep breath, Elain spoke breathlessly, “A new batch of letters is arriving today!”

Now, this was interesting. You placed your hand on hers, squeezing her hand on your shoulder, turning your head slightly to show your interest in the topic. Not because of the letters, obviously.

“Why don’t you come with me, sister? We can stop by that little craft shop too,” Elain suggested. She certainly knew how to brighten your day, and even though you were avoiding crowds, especially those zealots who called themselves the enlightened ones – and that made your skin crawl – it was hard to resist the opportunity to get out of the house. God knows this place could be suffocating.

Nesta was irritated with anyone who breathed in her direction, Elain would shudder at the mere mention of meetings and queens, and you missed Merina and her pies. No matter how hard you tried, it was difficult to connect with your sisters as well as with Feyre, who no longer lived a human life filled with nuances like yours.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the chair and blindly grabbed your beautiful cane, intending to head for the door alone, but Elain was quicker and grabbed your wrist, guiding you somewhat hurriedly toward the exit without saying goodbye to a very grumpy Nesta.

The morning wind hit your face as you crossed the threshold, and the birds’ song pierced your ears like a sweet melody. However, as beautiful as it was, your brow furrowed at the hurry in your sister's movements. Surely, the letters couldn’t be that interesting, not to Elain, at least. She could barely stand still when the topic was on the table. Ah, the gossip you'd have today, sweet sister.

“Is there anything else you want from the city besides the letters?” Your tone was dismissive, but even the dullest of men would see the curiosity behind the question.

Elain tripped over something on the ground and almost pulled you down with her, making you question who the blind sister really was here.

She cleared her throat and finally slowed her pace. The hesitation was palpable, and the arm linked to yours grew tense as she nervously began fiddling with the sleeve of her dress.

“I... I was thinking about looking at some prettier engagement rings, maybe gold...” It came out like a croak, and that left you a little more confused. There was no doubt that Elain had good taste and could spot something beautiful from afar, so it was strange that she wanted to see new rings when she loved hers so much.

“I thought you were crazy about that one,” the sounds of people talking grew louder, and your nose wrinkled from the variety of smells; sweets, savory foods, pig dung, and, beneath it all, the fresh scent of pine and whiskey filled your lungs with a warm, inviting sensation.

“Steel” and “Feyre” and “shame” were the only words you managed to catch through the intoxicating fog of the delicious perfume you inhaled. But that was enough for no question to leave your lips.

Turning your focus back to the surroundings as your sister and cane guided you through the streets, bodies occasionally brushed past you, nearly knocking you down; shouts proclaiming devotion to the divine; more frantic cries from merchants trying to sell their goods to eat at the end of the day, and other sounds that were impossible to decipher.

As you walked, Elain stopped abruptly in her tracks. Confused, you turned your head to look at her but got no answer. Without saying a word, your sister started walking again, leaving the noise of the city behind. You quickened your steps to keep up with her, the wind certainly making your hair a tangled mess. At least you wouldn’t have to see it.

Elain slid a bit in the mud, and with a squeak, you stopped by her side. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her lungs struggled to keep up with her breathing. Gods, your sister was trying to kill you just so she wouldn’t have to share the inheritance.

“What in the hell-” you began but didn’t finish. The breeze had risen up your legs, making the hem of your dress flutter and leaving a coolness on your skin, only to disappear faster than it came.

“Azriel?” Azriel? He was the cause of your little sprint? Damn him, what was he doing in such an obvious place?

“Elain,” he greeted your sister, and as he turned to you, he spoke your name in a deep purr, sending a chill down your spine with the tone. You nodded in acknowledgment; your voice no longer belonged to you. “The letter. It’s here.”

Ah, he knew. He already knew the queens' letter had arrived today. How? You didn’t know.

“We were going to see it now,” Elain’s voice was syrupy, soft and sweet, almost like she didn’t know how to speak anymore.

A hum left Azriel’s throat. His trained eyes watched your shy form beside Elain, the corners of his lips tugged upwards but quickly disappeared as he turned his attention back to the eldest Archeron sister.

“Could you fetch it for me, Elain?” Azriel asked gently, and your sister nodded quickly, like a soldier. Not letting go of your hand, she motioned for you to go with her to fetch the letter. “Only you, please.”

Your feet stayed firmly planted, and now the air felt thin. Whatever the Shadowsinger had to say to you was making your nerves bubble.

Elain muttered in discomfort, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with someone she barely knew. Her hand squeezed yours lightly, and you pulled your hand free from her grip, distancing yourself from your sister. With your body facing the man, you encouraged Elain to go. He certainly wouldn’t kill you.

Still, your treacherous mind whispered.

With lips set in a line, Elain quickly made her way to her destination, disappearing into the crowd. The faster she went, the faster she’d be back.

Without your sister nearby, the silence was deafening and uncomfortable, and despite your brief interaction with Azriel, you still found the way his presence surrounded you intimidating.

“Do you have something to say? Or did you just make me stay here for your company?” The words came out sharper than you intended, and perhaps challenging such a powerful fae like him in broad daylight wasn’t the best idea. Shifting your weight, you crossed your arms like a shield. Not that you expected it to stop him.

Your ears perked up when you heard a rough chuckle leave Azriel. His lips pressed together; it wasn’t the response you were expecting.

“I didn’t,” he paused and licked his lips, thinking carefully about his next words. “But I feel like I do now.”

Ah, so much for being mysterious. If this non-human man wanted to make you squirm with anxiety, he was succeeding beautifully.

“And…” your voice carried impatience.

“And I don’t think you should be part of the meeting with the queens.”

Your mind stopped. It felt completely empty, focused only on trying to process Azriel’s words. Letting your arms fall to your sides, you lifted your chin, hoping you were looking at his face as you spoke. “Why? Is there a reason for this?

Simple and shyer than you intended.

Azriel was no longer amused. His face darkened into a scowl as he studied you from your structure to your features – sculpted nose, mouth pulled down, and then, eyes. His eyes were windows to his soul, so sweet that, even if not fully functional, could bring legions to their knees.

And that was the problem.

“The queens aren’t trustworthy, and I don’t want you to be a target. They’re bitter and vile with people…” His words rushed out, his wings tightening behind him, letting the weight of what he had to say burn his tongue. “...weaker ones.”

You bit your cheek until you tasted the faint copper of your blood. Indignation wasn’t the right word to describe what you were feeling, but the disbelief on your flushed face certainly expressed it.

Fragile. The Illyrian who barely knew you for more than a week was insulting you so openly, without a shred of shame. You might not see things like other people, but this made you grow a pair of balls like nothing else, and it wasn’t this male who was going to put you down now.

With clenched fists, you took a step toward him, closing the distance to a breath’s length. The smell of whiskey that had been so enticing returned, but now that you knew who it belonged to, it didn’t seem so intoxicating. Or maybe it was, a little, your mind whispered.

“I don’t think I gave you any right to make assumptions about me, fairy.” You spat the words, especially the scornful nickname you secretly used for him and his brothers.

Azriel growled low, and ah, it wasn’t because of your words.

The rustling of leaves made you step back from the winged male, and quickly, his features softened. Elain stopped next to you, breathless, handing the letter to Azriel, as if it were burning her.

“Here, it arrived last night,” she said before taking your arm and walking away as quickly as possible.

“Thank you,” Azriel acknowledged with a nod. Elain smiled tightly, already guiding you away. His voice came again, but this time as a warning, making your shoulders tense. “Don’t forget what I said.” And then he was gone, swallowed by his shadows as if he had never been there.

Elain furrowed her brow and turned to you, questioning what Azriel had meant.

“Nothing, he didn’t say anything.” Nothing you cared about, at least.

“Hold your breath,” Nesta reprimanded you, her fingers pulling tighter on your corset strings, her delicate fingers and the crushing leather threatening to break your ribs.

“Tighten it any more, and watch me turn purple on this floor, sister.” You gasped out the words with difficulty. Nesta clearly wanted to kill you. You knew she was against you exposing yourself at the meeting, but you never thought she'd deliberately try to kill you.

“Stop whining, it's ready.” Nesta grumbled, and then her presence pulled away from you, her footsteps echoing as she walked to the vanity in front of you. Your head tilted to the side at the sound of objects clinking. She was making a mess, no doubt.

Nesta's heat returned as she stopped in front of you. Her warm hand held your chin firmly but gently, and the bristles of a brush tickled your lips. It was soft, sticky, with a faint scent of roses. Lipstick.

Nesta was dressing you up like a doll. Your chest warmed at the feeling. Having your sister care for and pamper you like this was a delight. It was fleeting, but so appreciated when it happened.

Pulling the brush from your lips, Nesta glanced at you. Long, trembling lashes, cheeks rosy with powder, angelic features. You were beautiful. A slight tug appeared on her lips, satisfied with her work.

“If you keep staring at me, I’m going to start thinking you like me.” Your playful voice earned an eye roll from Nesta, who, with a huff, stepped away from you, already missing the warmth of her presence.

"Don't be fooled," Nesta retorted playfully, you expected it to be a joke as she took your arm in hers and began guiding you out of your room and into the living room. The shrill creak of the door alerted you that you were passing through the main hall, just a few steps away from the comfortable armchairs that Elain had arranged for you. "Sit down, they should be arriving soon."

Groping for the armchair, you slowly lowered yourself until you were seated. Your sister settled beside you, and barely half a second later, a knock echoed on the door. Nesta took a deep breath beside you, and abruptly stood up, walking toward the door. As much for a brief break, a laugh escaped you. Hopefully, she wouldn't hear it.

The sound of what seemed like a crowd of footsteps approached where you were, low, nervous murmurs could be heard, and a melodic voice, different from those you already knew, made your eyebrow raise in curiosity.

"Sister, you look beautiful," Feyre greeted you warmly, her hands on your shoulder for a hug. A little awkwardly, you stood to hug her better. Nestling your face into her neck, you squeezed her tighter. It felt like you hadn't seen her in a decade. The sound of someone clearing their throat made your sister pull away from the hug, to your disappointment. "Sorry. Mor, this is my younger sister."

Mor? Another fae? You turned to where you thought she was. Mor smiled and approached, taking your hand in hers. Her sudden action made you jump slightly.

"It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Feyre has told me so much about you." Her voice was gentle, her shoulders relaxed, and you let yourself return her smile. She seemed like a woman with a strong spirit. Perhaps Nesta could find a friend in her.

"I'm happy to meet another one of my sister’s friends." You greeted her properly with a nod.

"That's enough, Mor. You're suffocating her." A cold shiver ran down your spine when Azriel's rough voice reached you. The memory of your last encounter still vivid in your mind. Your face twisted into a grimace. Mor huffed and pulled away, muttering about how Azriel was a joy-killer. You could agree with that.

Feyre, beside you, looked at the two of you with suspicion. Since you entered, Azriel hadn't taken his eyes off you, following every movement like a hawk. Your reaction to him only seemed to intrigue her more. With a kiss on your forehead, she guided you to sit again.

It seemed everyone was settling into their places, Elain arriving elegantly late and sitting to your right, Nesta a little farther to your left. You couldn’t tell exactly where everyone else was, but someone was behind you. You could feel the warmth of their presence.

"Stubborn artisan." Damn fae.

Azriel teased you with the nickname. If you could give him nicknames, why not? He took a step closer, leaning against your chair, ignoring the sharp look you shot at him. He bent down slightly, just enough for you to hear, his velvety tone making your hairs stand on end.

"You seemed more inclined to listen that night." Your face heated with the memory. With a small grin, Azriel stood up and turned his gaze away, completely satisfied with himself.

Before you could think of a witty retort, a loud bang echoed through the house, making everyone tense. They’ve arrived. The human queens were finally here. It was time to begin the meeting that would put everything at stake.

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imjustreadinglmao · 1 year ago

Text

BLUE PART II

Paring: Azriel x reader, Lucien x platonic!reader

Series summary: After Azriel and Elain‘s courtship is revealed, their mates, Lucien and Y/N, are left to deal with the consequences. While fighting against Koschei and for Prythian‘s freedom, Y/N has to navigate her emotions and learn how to live with the heartbreak of a one sided mating bond. But what happens when secrets are revealed and everything turns out differently than they thought?

Warnings: unrequited love, death, detailed descriptions of fights and blood, angst, characters being idiots

A/N: my last azrielxreader post won’t appear in the tags so reblogs are very much appreciated.

Word count: 3.3k

It’s a beautiful, crisp spring morning. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and the wind carries the lovely scent of freshly baked pies. I sigh at the prospect of leaving this peaceful place and trading it for the Autumn Court.

As I push the heavy oak doors of the River House open, I can feel anxiety coursing through my veins. After fleeing Autumn seventy-three years ago, I didn’t expect to return there so soon, even if only temporarily. It was difficult for me to leave. I couldn’t risk telling anyone about my plans, so I never had the chance to say goodbye.

Knowing my father, he had probably been more concerned about how me leaving would affect his standing with the High Lord and the other noble families. But my mother and sister… I would give a lot to see them again.

All those years, I have missed the familiarity of my home court, the traditions, and the celebrations I cherished so much as a child.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I step into the foyer. Rhysand, Amren, Azriel, and Lucien are already there, waiting for me.

Except for Lucien and me, who are wearing traditional Autumn Court attire, everyone else is dressed in midnight black.

Lucien looks up as I enter, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You look… convincing,” he says.

I let out a breathy laugh at that. The last time he saw me in Autumn colors was at a ball my family hosted, which ended with me puking my guts out, most of it landing on Lucien’s shoes.

Judging by the face he is making, he hasn’t forgotten either.

Azriel, standing beside him, nods in agreement. “It suits you,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.

His shadows peek over his shoulder as if they want to take a look too.

I try to ignore the flutter of emotions his words stir within me. Instead, I focus on the mission ahead, on the role I must play. The safety of Prythian depends on our success, and I can’t afford to let myself get distracted.

Rhysand steps forward, a mischievous smile on his face. “I have to say, you both pull off Autumn Court fashion far better than I expected. Maybe we should visit the Autumn Court more often.”

Amren, her eyes assessing our disguises, retorts, “If you spent as much time on strategy as you do on fashion critiques, we’d have won the war by now.”

I have to cover my mouth to not laugh out loud and accidentally anger the century-old creature that’s lurking beneath that Fae body.

Rhys just rolls his eyes, clearly undeterred by her sharp tone. “I’ll have you know that looking good is part of the strategy.”

With one last look at me, he stretches out his hand and asks, “Ready?”

I nod, take his hand, and let him winnow me away.

———————————————————

Arriving at the southern border of the Autumn Court, I am immediately struck by the beauty of the landscape. The trees here are taller than I remember, their leaves a riot of red, orange, and gold, perpetually caught in the peak of autumn. The air carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the smoke of distant fires burning in hearths.

As we step onto the moss-covered ground, bittersweet memories flood my mind. I find myself thinking of the simpler days of my youth, the carefree ones.

I feel dark talons gently scraping at the shields in my mind and lwt Rhys in. So lost in the beautiful nature, I barely realize him wishing us good luck and winnowing back to Velaris.

Right after Rhys leaves, Azriel begins to scout the area for any magical traps or shields set by Koschei, leaving us to wait for his return. As the minutes stretch into an hour, my anxiety starts to build.

I pace restlessly, my mind conjuring all sorts of terrible scenarios.

Lucien tries to reassure me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“He’ll be fine,” Lucien says softly. “Azriel knows what he’s doing.”

But his words do little to calm me.

“How can you be so sure? He could be injured… or worse. We don’t know what Koschei is capable of!” I snap.

I begin to ramble, listing every possible way Azriel could have gotten hurt. “What if he’s caught in a trap? What if there’s a magical barrier he can’t break?”

Just thinking about him being in trouble makes me want to vomit. “That’s it. He’s taken long enough. I’m going to find him and—”

Amren steps in, her voice cutting through my panic. “Enough. Get your shit together. We don’t have time for this.”

Her bluntness shocks me into silence, and I sulk, feeling chastised.

But Amren isn’t finished. “Oh, quit acting like a child. Maybe if you told him about your feelings and the mating bond, you wouldn’t be so anxious, girl.”

My mouth drops open and I look to Lucien, his face also morphed into shock. When I look back to Amren, she just lifts an eyebrow.

“How do you know about the bond?”

Amren lets out a long sigh. “Only someone stupid wouldn’t have picked up on that. And Azriel being the stupidest of all.”

She rolls her eyes and starts picking at her nails. “We all suspected it. For a while we thought it snapped for Azriel too. The way he followed you around like a love sick fool, we were sure of it. But I guess it didn’t.”

I don’t say anything else after that, my mind not coming up with a response.

——————————————————

Another hour passes, and my worry only deepens. I can’t stop imagining Azriel injured or trapped, his shadows unable to find a way back to us. Every rustle of the leaves makes me jump, hoping it’s him returning.

Lucien tries to keep me distracted, but my thoughts are a whirl of dread. He tells me stories of his own missions, but I can’t focus on his words. My mind is entirely on Azriel.

Finally, just as the sun reaches its peak, Azriel returns. He looks slightly worse for wear, his clothes torn in some places and his face smeared with dirt, but otherwise unharmed. He notices the tension immediately, his eyes narrowing in concern.

“What happened?” Azriel asks, looking between us.

I step toward him, my relief overwhelming. “Are you okay? What took you so long?”

Azriel nods, his expression serious. “There were more traps than I anticipated. It took a while to disable them all, but the path should be clear now.”

Amren crosses her arms. “Good. We don’t have time for any more delays.”

Lucien places a hand on my shoulder again, this time with a reassuring squeeze. “See? I told you he’d be fine.”

I manage a weak smile, still shaken by the fear that gripped me. Azriel’s eyes soften as he looks at me.

“We should move quickly,” Azriel says, breaking the moment. “It won’t be long till they notice that their shields and traps were destroyed. Amren and I will accompany you to the Forrest House, then we’ll separate and follow the original plan. It’s too dangerous otherwise. We can’t risk you.”

Lucien nods and gestures for me to go first. “Let’s get moving then. The sooner we’re done here, the better.”

We begin to move deeper into the forest, leading to Beron’s residence. The beauty of the surroundings contrasts sharply with the danger I know lurks nearby.

As we walk, I steal glances at Azriel, wondering how he can be so calm and collected all the time.

Gods, I nearly lost my mind over him doing his job. I am a hypocrite for snapping at him the other day. Yes, I am mad at him for courting Elain, but I also can’t expect him to be loyal to me when he doesn’t even know that we’re mates.

How different things would be if it had just snapped for him the second it did for me...

It happened three years ago. Unbeknownst to us, we were just celebrating the last winter solstice without Rhys when it snapped into place.

One moment I was admiring him from afar, the next I was connected to him for the rest of my immortal life.

He had still been in love with Mor back then, so I chose not to say anything. A huge mistake, because soon after, Elain came into the picture.

Truthfully, I never thought they were anything more than friends until I overheard Rhysand ordering Azriel to stay away from her. It wasn’t until then that I realized I had lost him forever. He wasn’t going to stay away from her, so I accepted my fate and kept silent.

———————————————————

After five hours of hiking through bushes, stepping in rabbit holes, and nearly getting killed by a boar, I can feel the exhaustion creeping into my bones.

“Can we please take a break? My legs are going to fall off,” I ask.

Amren smirks, not breaking her stride. “And here I thought you were tougher than this.”

Only Rhysand’s plea to behave and work together holds me back from strangling her. Gods, she really is a cranky hag.

Lucien chuckles softly and turns to me. “We’re only a few minutes away. Hang in there.”

I groan but press on. As we finally crest a hill, the sight of Beron’s castle comes into view, exactly as I remembered it. The imposing structure looms against the deep orange sky, its dark stone walls lined with creeping ivy. Tall, narrow windows glint in the dawning light.

“It’s just like I remember,” I whisper, a mixture of awe and dread washing over me.

Lucien glances at me, his expression unreadable. “Let’s get ready. We need to find a way to get in there.” He points to the entrance of the castle, where nobles are lined up to enter the masquerade ball hosted by the High Lord himself.

We slip through the dense forest that surrounds the castle, our movements silent and precise. Azriel scouts ahead, his shadows cloaking him in near invisibility. After what feels like an eternity, we find a secluded spot to prepare for our infiltration.

“Here,” Amren hands both Lucien and me a stack of clothes. “These are your disguises. You will pose as Lord and Lady Hawthorn. The late Lord Hawthorn died three months ago. You are recently married with no offspring or heir yet. This is your first outing as Lord and Lady. Some might recognize your name, though they should not look twice your way. Be discreet and don’t draw attention.”

“What about the real Lord and Lady Hawthorn? What if they decide to turn up and out us as imposters?” I ask.

Azriel shifts on his feet and answers a bit sheepishly, “Don’t worry, they have already been dealt with.”

My brows furrow in confusion. “What do you—” realization dawns over me. “Oh… oh, okay. I guess that makes this a lot easier.”

I grab the clothes Amren gave me and head for the nearest bush to change. When I look back, Azriel has his head tilted sideways and smiles at me.

The dress I change into is a deep burgundy, adorned with delicate golden embroidery.

The fabric is soft and luxurious and fits me like a second skin. The mask is made of similar fabric, with intricate golden lace around the edge of it.

As I step out from behind the bush, my eyes find Azriel’s immediately.

His eyes, usually so guarded, widen slightly as they take in my appearance, his gaze lingering on the details of my dress and the way it clings to my form.

“You look… stunning,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere.

I feel a blush rise to my cheeks and look away, focusing on Lucien. Lucien is similarly attired, his outfit complementing mine with its dark tones and subtle elegance.

He grins at me. “Shall we, Lady Hawthorn?”

I bark out a laugh. “We shall, Lord Hawthorn.”

———————————————————

Getting inside the Forrest House was easier than expected. We just walked right up to the entrance, stated our names, handed them our fake invites, and were ushered in.

As we step into the grand ballroom, the sheer opulence of the scene takes my breath away.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the sea of elegantly dressed nobles. Musicians play softly in one corner, their melodies mingling with the murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses.

At the far end of the room, atop a raised dais, sits Beron, his cold gaze sweeping over the crowd. To his right stands Eris. Our eyes meet briefly, and I give a subtle nod, which he returns.

Lucien and I mingle with the guests, keeping our eyes and ears open, waiting for Eris to give us our signal.

As Beron rises from his throne, a hush falls over the grand ballroom. The guests turn their attention to him. He begins to address the crowd, his voice echoing through the vast space.

“Welcome, esteemed guests, to this celebration of our enduring legacy and power,” Beron proclaims, his tone laced with self-satisfaction.

Just as he is about to continue, the heavy doors of the ballroom burst open. A squadron of Eris’s soldiers rushes in, their armor clanking loudly. The crowd parts like a tide, murmurs of confusion and fear rippling through the room.

Beron’s confident façade falters, replaced by one of anger and panic. “What is the meaning of this?” he demands, his voice rising in pitch as he glares at the soldiers.

Eris steps forward, his demeanor calm and resolute. “Father,” he begins, his voice carrying a chilling edge, “it is time. Your reign has been marked by tyranny and cruelty, and I will no longer stand by and watch my people suffer under your rule.”

Beron’s eyes narrow, a sneer curling his lips. “You think you can overthrow me, Eris? It takes more than a few soldiers to claim this throne.”

Eris begins to smile. “Oh, I know. A noble to swear me in and an heir to secure the lineage, right? Well, here they are.” He gestures to Lucien and me.

My eyes widen as I whisper-shout in Lucien’s ear, “He cannot be serious? THIS is his plan?!”

Lucien replies, equally as quiet. “I have learned a long time ago not to question my brother’s way of handling things.”

“You are truly deluded, Eris.” Beron laughs, a harsh, mocking sound. “They won’t accept a random noble as your heir.”

Eris stands his ground, his gaze unwavering. “But they will. Take off your masks,” he says to Lucien and me.

And so we do. Nobles everywhere are gawking at us. Some eyes fixed on me, most on Lucien.

Beron steps down from the dais. “What a surprise. The lost son finally returns home.” He turns his gaze to me. “And you, you’re Lord Yarrow’s daughter, no?”

I don’t answer. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could. I’m rooted in place, not taking my eyes off Beron.

Beron turns to Eris again. “Well, it seems you really are full of surprises. But you’re forgetting one important thing. You would have to kilI me to claim the throne. And you’ve always been weak, Eris. You’re not strong enough, but you shall try.”

In that moment, I realize what Eris was doing. He was provoking his father into accepting his challenge, and Beron just did exactly that.

“I’ve had a long time to prepare.”

And with that, all hell breaks loose.

———————————————————

Chaos erupts as Beron and Eris clash, their swords flashing in the bright light of the ballroom. Beron's strikes are powerful, but Eris is swift and precise, his fire magic flaring up with every swing.

Lucien and I are quickly surrounded by Beron's soldiers. The nobles' screams fill the air as they flee the room in terror. I manage to grab a blade as the first soldier aims right for my neck.

My heart races as I parry another soldier's blow, my muscles straining with each clash of steel. Lucien fights beside me, his own fire magic scorching the air around us, incinerating our enemies with fiery blasts.

The ballroom is a whirlwind of chaos.

As we cut through the soldiers, our eyes are locked on the fight between Eris and Beron. We try to reach them, but more and more of Beron’s soldiers are streaming in.

Eris and his father fight with brutal intensity, their swords ringing out as they meet. Eris dodges and strikes with a precision that keeps Beron on his toes, but his experience gives him the upper hand, forcing Eris back step by step.

Just as Lucien and I are within seconds of reaching Eris and Beron, the ballroom doors burst open again. Five of Koschei's soldiers, dark magic radiating from them, storm in. They immediately begin slaughtering nobles, women, and children alike. Their dark magic tears through Eris's soldiers as if they were paper.

Lucien and I have no choice but to turn away from Eris and Beron and face Koschei’s magic wielders.

I take several hits to the gut, and a sword slices across my cheek, but I fight on, managing to take down one of the dark soldiers. Lucien, with his fire magic, kills two more, but before the third soldier is turned into ash, he drives a sword straight through Lucien’s chest.

Lucien collapses to his knees, blood pouring from the wound. I rush to his side, my heart pounding in my chest. Lucien's eyes flutter, and he tries to speak, but I stop him. "Save your energy," I beg.

He begins to close his eyes, the loss of blood making him weaker and weaker. "Lucien, stay with me!" I cry, trying to stem the flow of blood with my hands.

I have to get him to a healer fast; otherwise, he will bleed out. So I do the only thing I can think of.

Desperate, I tug on the bond with Azriel, praying that he will sense my distress.

A moment later, Azriel bursts into the room, Amren in tow. Azriel’s eyes widen with panic as he spots me and Lucien. He rushes to us, dropping to his knees beside Lucien.

"Azriel, you have to winnow him back to Velaris," I plead. "Find Madja , now!"

Azriel looks torn. "I can't leave you," he says, his voice tight with fear. “I— not like this. Not with you being my—”

"Amren is here, I’ll be fine," I insist, glancing at Amren, who is finishing off the last two of Koschei’s soldiers. "Please, Azriel! I can’t watch him die. I am begging you, just go, please!"

Azriel nods reluctantly, wrapping his arms around Lucien. With a final, desperate look at me, he winnows away, leaving me behind in the chaos.

With Azriel and Lucien gone, I feel a pang of anxiety, but I have no time to dwell on it. I turn back to the fight, watching as Eris and the High Lord continue their deadly duel.

Around me, the battle rages on. I join Amren, who is ruthlessly dispatching the remaining dark soldiers with a ferocity that belies her small stature.

Together, we fight our way through the chaos, our movements synchronized from years of fighting side by side.

We are fighting for what feels like hours. My arms ache from dealing blow after blow, and my eyes are getting blurry from the lack of sleep.

I steal a glance at Eris and Beron, watching as they exchange hits. Eris manages to land a few blows, but Beron shrugs them off.

The two of them are evenly matched, but the High Lord’s power coursing through Beron's veins gives him a slight edge.

Suddenly, Beron lunges forward, his sword aimed at Eris's heart. Eris barely manages to block the strike, their blades locking together. Fire erupts between them, and for a moment, it looks like Eris might be overpowered.

But Eris digs deep, summoning a burst of strength. He pushes Beron back, their swords disengaging with a loud clang. Eris's flames burn brighter, and he steps forward, pressing the attack.

The next moment, everything is quiet. No swords clashing, no screaming, just utter quiet.

As the flames subside, there, in the middle of the ballroom, not moving, is Beron.

The High Lord of the Autumn Court is dead.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #lucien x reader #azriel x you #writers on tumblr #eris acotar #rhysand #amren acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #azriel imagine

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scampthecorgi · 8 months ago

Text

It’s been one year since we had to say goodbye to Scamp, and I still miss him every day. I remember some people saying now he was at his “fishpond in the sky” which always stuck with me. So in honor of Scamp, here is a peaceful clip of him at his favorite place (other than a table full of pies).

🐶🌈❤️

#scamp the corgi

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storytimewithtibby · 17 days ago

Note

Hear me out . Pre trials coyle and fem reader

Southern belle type . Shes a smooth talker with sass , a real classy lady . Someone who dont mind hard work but dainty all the same . She bakes the best apple pies in the diner he frequents . Always giving him a morning slice for free as well as coffee .

They've got a good thing going , bouncing around each others affections — playing the teasing game . Shes partly playing with all this but coyle grows tired of it and the law man takes things into his own hands

warnings: dub/non con, first cream pie for the blog, dirty talk leland coyle x fem!reader word count: 2,011 work - one shot

a/n - listen... i know i said they'd be 1500 max but apparently coyle ain't got no damned courtesy or the ability to count so here we be . i also blame whatever by Godsmack that drove most of the way

He was still sitting there, arm draped over the back of the booth, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray to clear the ember. A good customer, great even, practically oozed charm and something a little darker. You liked having him come in, and as a little treat to yourself made a little extra time just for him when he came in.

But he’d set up shop in that booth at about what? Three? And here it was rolling close to closing time and he’d only gotten up to go to the bathroom and grab another pack of smokes once. Might have bothered you if he’d been weird about it, but he apparently just decided to enjoy his day off with you. Sweet really, watching him lift a bite of pie, his third slice, to his mouth and tried to ignore the pulse of warmth low between your legs watching him slide the clean tines past his lips.

“Leland, you goin’ to be sleepin’ there tonight? Cook might have a blanket in the back.’

Diner empty, except for the man who kept pulling your attention in his direction like a lodestone. You felt his chuckle like a trickle of fingertips across your shoulders, shivers cascading down your back. But he just shook his head, scraping the plate for the last bits. That crooked smile did things, feeling one of your own lilt your lips as you got back to wiping down the tables.

Still there when the cook left, gaze flicking towards Coyle before sending you a silent ask with a raise of his eyebrow. Shooing him away, you shrugged. It was just a lazy day, you were almost sure of it. Wasn’t like he hadn’t done something like it before. Just never for so long. Besides, he was a cop, you were safe as houses. Not like it was some meth head that was tweaking and picking at the faded leather of the seat.

Looking damned cozy as you began pulling down the blinds and setting chairs on tables seat down. As you neared his table you wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Policing was hard work, even in a small town, the regulars had to be irritating. All that huff and guff fixed only to have them do it all over again a week later. Untying the half apron you rolled it up then locked it down with the strings, leaving it on the last table before coming to a stop at his booth.

“Leland? You awake, sugar?’ No response. “You can’t actually sleep here, you do have to get goin’.’

A swell of irritation welled up briefly before you pushed it back down. Well you still had to finish refilling the salt and pepper shakers, the sugar containers, then you’d just give him a good hard shake to get him up and out of here. Might let him walk you to your car, a little in front of him, give him a good something to look at before waving goodbye and going home.

Quick math had the shakers all filled, tucking them into the bin for tomorrow’s opener to redistribute. But you glared at the box sugar that you’d left behind the counter, going up on tip toes and leaning over to try and reach it. You didn’t want to have to walk around with the way your feet were hurting, and the stretch felt good, eased the ache a little bit. Almost… got… i-

“You do know how to tempt a man,’ a voice crooned, a bit too close, making you freeze. “Look at you, presenting like a bitch in heat when I thought you was a good god fearin’ woman.’

Fingers traced the seam of your thighs, stopping when they reached the hem of the uniform mandated skirt. The owner thought flashing a bunch of blue collar men a bit of thigh would help with business, and tips. He was right, but you were wishing that you’d changed once the other customers had left for the day. You’d learned to lower yourself to your heels instead of bend over day two, the fabric didn’t offer the kind of coverage needed especially with the little slit at the bottom in the back to make it easier to walk.

“Though I do suppose it ain’t your fault.’

“Leland, I thought you were sleepin’.’

A short tug at the hem of your skirt eased the flicker of anxiety, feeling the fabric tugged down a bit. Well fool of you not to just walk around the counter to get the sugar, feeling another tug, harder, pulling you back to flat foot and pressed up against him. The tips of his fingers worked their way between your legs as you were trying to catch your balance, rubbing against the gusset.

“Legs like these could have brought Christ back a day early.’ He pressed, pushing his fingers forward to grind against your clit drawing a whimper from you. “And he would have risen harder than the wood they’d nailed him to if he saw the way you saunter around this establishment.’

“Leland, please.’

Nails scratched softly as he moved the fabric out of the way, slowly flicking his fingers back and forth between your labia with a low groan. It was the same damned groan when he got that first bite of pie, feeling heat washing up your jaw to settle on your cheeks. That hadn’t been what you meant, making a move to turn only to feel his hand press into the middle of your back, sliding upwards.

Well you weren’t going to bend over the counter just for the asking, raised better than that. It wasn’t your fault he had been over there playing possum while you worked. But the press was insistent, his fingers slowly fiddling with your labia like it was a game. The first thrust of his fingers made you jump, half lurching forward at the sudden invasion shocked despite the intention had been clear from the get go.

“Get your damn hands off me.’ You seethed, turning your head to glare over your shoulder at him.

“Well that’s downright whorish behaviour, ain’t never met me a good girl who wanted to skimp on the foreplay.’ Beg your pardon? “But I am in fact a gentleman, and will not turn my nose up at a lady’s request.’

You flinched when he pulled his fingers out, slowly, curled, feeling your fluids run off his hand and down your thighs. That could be dealt with later, first you- Mouth falling open as he rucked your skirt up and tugged the underwear beneath down.

“Good God, where’d you get them garters from?’

While you were recovering from those two rapid slaps to your sense of propriety, you stammered out the name of the store before going silent hearing the unmistakable sound of a zipper rasp. No? No. Moving to stand your chest hit the counter with a thud that rattled the sugar container tops as he shoved you back down.

“Don’t you start playin’ coy on me now, girl.’ A soft grunt behind you, fabric shifting, his fingers digging into the muscle as a warning against trying again. “Drippin’ like a leaky faucet, been flashing those garters at me for the past God only knows how long. A man can only resist temptation so long before having to do something about it.’

Your leg jerked as you tried to pull it loose from the underwear pooled around your ankles, and he had the audacity to chuckle and smack your ass like it was for his benefit. Hands flat to the counter you took a deep breath, let it out slow, then took another before trying to stand up. Except as you pushed up on your hands, his hips pushed forward, sinking in an inch or two before your body stopped him.

“Tighter than the country office’s purse strings, Jesus H…’ Fingers curling as you went on tiptoe, you could feel the way your nails bent against the counter top as he pulled his hips back to thrust back in again. “Christ! If I’da known you were gonna feel like this I would have stayed past closing sooner.’

Panicking, you tried to twist, aiming to elbow him off, but it only just managed to glance off his arm. You could see your wide eye surprise dimly reflected in his sunglasses, his teeth gleaming in the kitchen lighting as he managed to thrust home with a soft groan.

“Better hold on to somethin’... Now she’s all warmed up, gotta give her a little friction to get her overheated.’

Conflicted, hating that did something to you, your left hand clawing as his hips rocked. Slow at first, but not long enough to adjust, feeling your walls cling to him as he moved, feeling like he was dragging things deeper than he should have inside you. A low Oh god groaned in your ear as you slowly slickened, biting down on your lower lip to keep from moaning.

“Where’s that sass mouth of yours now, hm?’ You yelped as his hand connected in the same spot as before. “Thought I’d have to see a priest after I was done with you and the filth that’d spill out. Awful damned quiet.’

“Fuck you, Leland.’

Would have carried a bit more weight if you hadn’t yelped the last bit as he began fucking you in earnest, nails dragging down your back to wrap his fingers around your bunched skirt.

“Maybe later, if you get me good and drunk, I’ll think about letting you.’

Your body jerked as he used his new handhold to yank you back into each thrust, the waistband digging into your stomach as he pulled hard. If he tore it, and you had to buy a new one you’d file a complaint. A blink, trying to gather your thoughts, why weren’t you already going to report him for the rather larger problem?

“God damn, thought the burgers here were juicy. Thank Christ I don’t work tonight, I wouldn’t have time to go home and change.’

He was selfish, your hands pressing hard against the counter when his thrusts kept forcing up against it. The hand on your hip tightened its grip, hearing the low rasp of his panting as he rocked your lower body faster. You hated the whine in your throat, teeth clamped against the words that wanted to spill out. You’d be damned if you’d give him any direction, or praise, or-

Like twisting a key in a lock, the last of your dignity poured out as he reached around to tweak your clit. Grinding would be a more appropriate word, catching it between his forefinger and thumb. But the most shameless, blasphemous words tumbled past your teeth as you felt like you got struck by lighting, again, and again.

“I knew it.’ He purred, kicking your ankle to spread you legs a bit wider, letting go of your aching clit. “Might need to call the reverend, you got a mouth on you won’t see you past the pearly gates.’

You jumped as he slapped your clit, groaning as you clenched around him. Do it again, as he slapped harder, your legs almost going out beneath you as you gushed around him, feeling it trickling down your thighs. Again, landing hard against his hips when your legs did finally give out, feeling his cock twitch deep inside you.

“Didn’t know you’d be that messy.’ He mumbled, slowly rocking his hips as his cock continued to twitch inside you, spurting weakly against your labia as he finally pulled out. “...Now that’s a damned good lookin’ pie.’

Jerking as he trailed two fingers over your clit, swirling them as he toyed with your exposed entrance, before wiping them on the back of your skirt.

“I’ll be round tomorrow for coffee, don’t you go givin’ me that decaf shit just because you’re sore at me.’ Tomorrow? He was coming back? “If’n you do, I’ll make you sore in ways you couldn’t explain to the family doctor.’

#cw non con #cw dubcon #murkoff corporation #outlast #outlast whistleblower #outlast x reader #leland coyle #outlast: coyle #coyle x reader #leland coyle x reader #fem!reader #tibboutlast #creative writing #ao3 writer #tibbwrites #tibbreq!answered

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thicccshady · 7 months ago

Text

Welcome Home (Your Biggest Fan Part Two)🐾

Eminem X Reader

image pulled from google

✨️MasterList✨️

PART ONE Your Biggest Fan 🐾

Content: Fluff, Cursing, Brief mentions of animal abuse, Crying

Heart beating out of your chest, you reached towards your phone. A number you didn’t recognize looked back at you. It bared the 313-area code. Holding your breath you answered the phone with a soft "Hello?"

“Hello, is this Y/N?”

“Yes, this is she,” you said, pinching your phone between your shoulder and ear. If this was the call you’d been hoping for, you wanted to be ready to head out the door immediately.

“Hi! Yes, you visited us the other day. I understand you were interested in Stan-“

“Yes, that’s correct!”

The voice on the other end chuckled at your enthusiasm. “Wonderful! His new home did not work out and he is back with us. He wanted me to ask if would you be interested in adopting him?”

A huge smile crossed your face. “We would love to.”

“Amazing! We are able to place him on hold here for three days. Do you have a minute to schedule a time to come in for paperwork?”

“Yes!” Taking a hold of your phone, you put the call on speaker and opened your calendar. Thank god, you weren’t scheduled to go into work today. “Actually, if it’s alright, I could come in in about forty-five minutes from now.”

“Sure, let me check our openings for today.” Trying your best to be patient, you began to fidget. “Oh, looks like we are rather booked today. Would you be able to come in at 4:30?”

“Absolutely” Oh my god, how would you tell Marshall.

“Great! If you decide to take Stan home today. We will send him home with his medical records, a collar and leash. He currently is eating Iams chicken and rice dry dog food. We recommend sticking to the food the dogs are used to. Switching to another brand may cause an upset stomach. I have had the pleasure of spending some time with Stan while he has been with us. Personally, I recommend picking up some squeaky toys for him. Those tend to not last long here, but when he was able to play with one, he loved it.”

“Sounds like I have a bit of shopping to do!” You switched over to your notes app and began to make a list.

“Oh, my he will love to be spoiled. Well, Y/N, if there is anything we can help you with in the meantime feel free to call us back. Unless we hear otherwise, we will plan to see you at 4:30!”

“Thank you so much. See you then!”

“Alrighty, have a good day.”

“Thanks, you too! Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Hanging up the phone, you couldn’t hold in the excitement anymore. You did a little happy dance. Suddenly, the weight of what just happened hit you. You agreed to adopt a dog. Not just any dog, though—it was Stan. Should you have called Marshall first? What if his feelings about Stan had changed?

Frantically you pulled up his contact. He didn’t always answer when at the studio though. The phone rang and rang before going to voicemail: “The person you called has a voice mailbox that has not been set up yet. Please try again later. Goodbye.”

You sighed, typing out a quick message asking him to call when he had a moment, then set to work preparing the house. Even if Marshall wasn’t on board, the worst-case scenario would be a cleaner home. Vacuuming, organizing, and rearranging, you spent the morning in a productive frenzy.

Treating yourself to some tea and a rest. You picked up your phone to a text from Paul.

That’s all you needed to hear. You were going to bring Stan home today. Marshall would get home around 5:20. With some luck, and little traffic you could make it back before him.

After stashing away some of Marshall’s loose cassettes scattered on the floor, you grabbed your keys and checked your shopping list one more time.

Iams chicken and rice dry dog food

Bowls

Leash

Collar

Squeaky toy

Peanut butter/treats

Dog bed

Dog brush

Poop bags

Travel crate

Lots of toys

---

Your car’s backseat was soon filled with bags. You hadn’t enjoyed shopping this much in ages, and the deals you found weren’t bad either. The pièce de résistance, however, was a dog-sized hoodie that would match Marshall’s favorite.

The clock on your dash read 3:04. You would have just enough time to grab some lunch, set up Stan’s new things at home, and make it to the dog shelter before your appointment.

Excitement radiated through you as you pulled into the driveway, gravel crunched under the tires. Lugging the bags inside, you transformed your home for its newest resident. First, the food and water bowls found a spot in the kitchen, tucked away in a corner to avoid spills. You arranged the plush dog bed in the living room near the couch, where you knew Stan would want to be close to you but more so Marshall. Surely, the bed would be moved to Marshall's office on days he worked from home. The squeaky toys were arranged in a basket by the TV stand, though you chuckled, imagining the chaos when Stan—or Marshall—dumped them all out.

By 3:45, everything was ready. You sat the hoodie by the door alongside a hat, a subtle hint for Marshall if you didn’t make it home first. A quick glance in the mirror and a face wash later, you were back in the car, heart pounding with anticipation.

The shelter was calmer than you remembered, a stark contrast to the excited storm brewing inside you. The same cheerful volunteer from before greeted you with a wide smile. “Hi, Y/N! Right on time. Are you ready to take Stan home?”

“More than ready,” you replied, practically bouncing on your toes.

The adoption paperwork was straightforward, though it felt like it took forever. You could hardly focus as the volunteer walked you through the forms, nodding eagerly at all the right moments. Your fingers drummed against the office chair you sat in. Finally, with a flourish, you signed your name at the bottom. Clicking the pen closed, your phone rang. It was Marshall. Shit, he should still be at the studio. Did he go home early? Excusing yourself, you stepped outside to answer.

“Hey, Love.” You tried to steady your voice, shaky with excitement.

“Yo. I am starving. We are wrapping up a bit early today. Thoughts on pizza from that place across town?”

Mentally, you calculated what time this would get him home. “Sounds great. What time do you think you’ll make it back?” You tried so hard not to sound suspicious.

“uhh. maybe forty-five minutes to an hour. Also, I might get us a little surprise.”

Giggling at his normal nonsense, “Okay, drive safe.”

“Nah.” His voice changing to the higher pitched tone he uses with babies, dogs, and apparently you, “I Wuv You!”

“I love you too, Marshall. Bye bye.” Holding your phone to your chest, the sparkle in your eyes brightened. This was going to work out perfectly.

Re-entering the room, the volunteered looked up at you. “Are you ready for Stan? I know he has been very eager to see you again.”

You slid back into the office chair, “Absolutely!”

“Great! I’ll go get him for you,” the volunteer said, taking the papers and disappearing down the hall.

A few minutes later, the sound of claws clicking in the hallway tile announced his arrival. Stan bounded into the room; tail wagging so hard it looked like it might propel him into the air. The volunteer handed you the leash, and Stan immediately began sniffing every inch of your shoes, pants, and hands. His feet danced with excitement, as his backend wiggled back and forth.

“Hey, buddy,” you cooed, kneeling to meet him. His warm, wet nose nuzzled your cheek, and your heart melted all over again.

As the volunteer handed you Stan’s file, she lingered for a moment, her expression softening. “Before you take him home, I thought you might want to know a little more about Stan’s story.”

You nodded eagerly, rubbing Stan’s ears while he looked up at you with his big, trusting eyes.

“Stan’s past is a bit of a mystery,” she began. “He was found in the winter wandering in a park downtown. A kind gentleman saw him there a few days in a row—no collar, no tags, and looking severely underfed. He brought him to us, and we scanned Stan for a microchip, but there wasn’t one. He either escaped and was never found or, more likely, lifted by his previous owners.”

Your heart ached at the thought of him all alone, cold, scavenging for food and waiting for someone who never came. You gave him an extra scratch behind his ears, and his tail thumped against your leg.

“We estimate he’s about two years old, based on his teeth and overall health. He was pretty scared when he first came in. A lot of dogs are, especially if they haven’t been around people much, but Stan warmed up quickly. He’s incredibly sweet and loves attention—honestly probably because he didn’t get much of it before. It’s clear someone trained him a little; he mostly knows basic commands like sit and stay, and he’s decently house-trained. So, whoever had him before must have cared at least a little.”

“Poor guy,” you murmured, looking into Stan’s soulful eyes. “But he’s okay now?”

The volunteer nodded. “He is. He’s been with us for a while. At first, he was overlooked—mutts often are, unfortunately—but then, as you know, a young couple fell in love with him. They were so excited to take him home.”

You frowned, glancing down at Stan. “If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t it work out?”

The volunteer smiled softly. “I view it as a happy ending. They were a nice couple, but shortly after they brought him home, they found out they’re expecting their first child. They were understandably overwhelmed and felt it wouldn’t be fair to Stan to bring him into such a big transition. They brought him back, and it was clear they were heartbroken about it.”

You stroked Stan’s head as he leaned into your touch, a pang of sadness mingling with your happiness. “That’s rough. For them and for him.”

“It is,” the volunteer agreed. “But we’re so glad he found you. From what we’ve seen, Stan’s a resilient guy. He just loves being loved.”

“Well, he’s going to get plenty of that with us,” you promised, your voice firm, and hands cupping Stan's sweet face.

The volunteer beamed. “I can tell you’re going to be a great match. Just take things slow and let him settle in at his own pace. If you ever need help or advice, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“Thank you for taking care of him,” you said, feeling the leash between your fingers and looking at Stan. “You’re coming home, buddy.”

Marshall’s car pulled into the garage, the sound of the engine humming to a stop. Inside the house, Stan was dressed for the big moment: the dog-sized hoodie you’d picked out earlier fit him perfectly. To top it off, your old baseball cap perched precariously on Stan’s head, just enough to make the sight of him even more heart-meltingly adorable, and dare you say a little shady.

You crouched by Stan’s side, giving his ear a gentle scratch. “Okay, buddy,” you whispered, your voice a mix of nerves and excitement. “This is it. You ready?”

Stan looked at you as if he knew something big was about to happen. You had been preparing for this moment all afternoon, and now it was finally here. Stan sat obediently by the door, his tail wagging furiously but butt staying in place, just like you’d practiced.

The sound of the car door closing snapped you into motion. Reminding Stan to "Stay," you hurried outside, stepping into the garage just as Marshall was heading toward the trunk to grab the food.

“Hey,” you called out, your tone calm and casual—too casual, given the excitement buzzing under your skin.

Marshall turned to you, smiling but raising an eyebrow. “Hey pretty lady… what are you doing out here? It’s cold.”

“I thought I’d greet you,” you said with a shrug, stepping closer. “But, uh… don’t worry about carrying anything in. I’ve got it all under control.”

Marshall paused, his eyes narrowing playfully. “The fuck?... Woman, what are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” you said a little too quickly, your voice going up an octave. “Just trust me, okay?”

Marshall chuckled, leaning against the car. “Well now I’m not sure if I should.”

“Pleaseee, Marshall,” you grabbed the food, stepping back toward the house and motioning for him to follow. “Come inside.”

Marshall shook his head and chuckled, as he followed you. “You’re being fucking weird, but okay.”

The moment he opened the door, Stan perked up from his spot, his entire body quivering with excitement. For a split second, Marshall froze, his eyes widening as they landed on Stan.

As Stan bolted towards Marshall, the baseball cap slipped off his square head. The dog bounded into Marshall’s arms, his tail wagging furiously.

Catching Stan in a tight hug, Marshall lowered themselves to his knees.

You leaned against the doorframe, grinning as you watched the reunion. “Surprise.” you said softly.

Marshall met your gaze, his expression a mixture of disbelief and pure happiness. “You—wait—he’s ours?”

You nodded, noticing Marshall’s teary eyes, a lump caught in your throat at the sight. “Yeah. He’s ours. I got the call this morning, and I couldn’t say no. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” Marshall asked, his voice cracking as Stan licked his cheek. “Are you shitting me?”

“Not at all. I think he missed you too much,” you said tears now filling your eyes.

“I missed him too,” Marshall replied, his voice soft as he looked down at Stan. Then he looked back up at you, his eyes shining. “Thank you Y/N.”

Almost as if he rehearsed it, Stan snuggled into Marshall and attacked him with kisses, whipping away the tears slipping down Marshall’s cheeks. Petting Stan with both hands, Marshall tried to process everything. “Yooo, you’re wearing a hoodie, little man? And—wait, is that your hat?”

Stan barked happily, spinning in circles in front of Marshall. You walked over, scooping up the cap from the floor. “Figured he needed to look his best for his big reunion,” you said, placing the hat back on Stan’s head for a moment before it fell off again.

Marshall laughed, shaking his head. “Fucking unbelievable,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He looked back at Stan, then at you, his eyes shining. “Thank you. I don’t even know what to say.” Marshall pulled you into a hug, his free arm still wrapped around Stan, who was now happily nestled between the two of you.

“Best surprise ever,” Marshall said, his voice quiet but full of meaning. Reality snapping back to him, Marshall looked towards you. “My surprise looks like shit now. And here I thought a secret order of breadsticks would be the highlight of our night.”

You laughed, resting your head against his shoulder as Stan sniffed you. “Welcome home,” you whispered, as you scratched behind his ears.

Stan wiggled in the middle, his tail thumping against both of you like a rhythmic drumbeat. Marshall scratched behind Stan’s ears, his gaze soft as he looked at you with a full smile. “This little guy’s going to be spoiled rotten. You know that, right?... We need to get the little dude some Snoop doggy merch.”

A/N: Hey chat. I cried writing this. I'm not sure if there will be a part three.. but I could be talked into it. I really love dog dad Marshall. <3

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@crazycat-ladys-blog@ @tomdayaloveforever@ @4-ln4@ @hereforfun-31@ @watercolorskyy@ @anjee0@ @80sprincess1@ @sweetmusicvoid@ @viktoriya2008@ @confiaenanaa@ @nebulamorada@ @darkstarfishbird@ @harry-styles14@ @devi-paxton20@ @therealmarsh-mallow@

#eminem #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader #slim shady #slim shady x reader #x reader

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yourmomwhitediamond · 1 year ago

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Can I request Rosie x female reader who owns a cannibal meat pie shop close to the emporium? Just them being a cute couple after a long work day. Maybe Y/N brings over some special meat pies she made just for her lovely girlfriend?

Here’s the first one! I am rusty with my writing, so you’ll have to excuse any mistakes. I hope this is good enough! Enjoy!! :D

You were packing everything up for closing time, as per usual. Double checking every cabinet door was shut and locked before heading into the back of your store to gather all that you had brought with you and what you planned to bring home. The main item of concern was a pie you had specially made for your girlfriend and wanted to get home to her while it was still warm. Seconds before you went to flip the final switch the store's bell rang out and you groaned. Every day, at this exact time, the same person would come in at the last second. Susan. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, putting on your best smile as you stepped back out into the front.

"Susan," You greeted in a sickly sweet voice, already sliding open the panel to where her regular order was displayed, "What can I get for you?"

"The same as always, please" Please? That's a first. You didn't comment on it and simply nodded, going on to bring out the tray. If you took too long she'd get snappy, so there was no time for any chitchat, not like you wanted to converse with her today. It had been a hectic day, the time of the week where you’d made a fresh batch of human pies, and Susan was prolonging it.

Swiftly, you wrapped up Susan's order, not wanting to waste a minute longer. You cursed yourself for not doing this early with the knowledge that she'd come along. When you placed it on the counter, ready to take Susan's payment, you checked the time. If she was quick at getting her money out then you'd only be five minutes late. That didn't happen. Because Susan just had to go and take her sweet time getting every penny out of her purse. You felt like reaching over the counter to strangle her, but kept a smile on your face, nevertheless.

When it had been paid for you bid her goodbye, "Bye Susan, I hope you have a lovely evening"

You got the same old, "You too" from her. And the second the door closed you scrambled to gather your things, praying for no further interruptions. With the lights turned off, a bag over your shoulder and the door locked securely, you hurried home.

The moment you walked into your home you were greeted with Rosie's welcoming smile that you returned with an apologetic one.

"I'm so sorry I'm late-"

"Susan?" She interrupted your apology with an amused smirk.

You let out a short chuckle and a curt nod. You were so thankful to have such an empathetic partner such as her. She understood the struggles of dealing with Susan. You went over and pressed a kiss on either of her cheeks followed by a peck on the lips.

"She's insufferable" You whispered.

Rosie cupped your face and brought you into a kiss, mumbling against your lips, "I know, darling"

Smiling blissfully, you parted but kept your forehead up against Rosie's with your eyes closed. She sighed contently whilst snaking her arms around your waist. Her hands bumped into your bag which caused her to look down with an inquisitive expression.

"What's in the bag?" Her question brought you out of your enraptured state. Your eyes snapped open and you stepped back from the embrace.

"I made you a little something," You told her as you reached into your bag. A proud smile adorned your face with the pie you'd baked held out in front of you.

"Oh sweetie," Rosie took the pie and grinned widely, taking in the intricate patterns on the pastry, "I thought I smelt something good"

"It's got all of your favourite meats in; pinky fingers, eyeballs with some brain, and a few other little things. It will need warming up aswell"

"It'll be perfect, you know me all too well" She placed a kiss on your head before walking off to the dining table. You followed suit, noticing the teapot and cups set in your places. It made your smile grow further knowing that she'd patiently been awaiting your return, having prepared you both the hot beverages to drink over some good gossip, as always.

"Pray tell what these 'few other little things' are?"

"I'm not telling" She feigned an offended gasp at your response.

Laughing faintly, you approached her from behind and wrapped your arms around her waist. With your chin resting on her shoulder, you whispered, "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

"I suppose I will”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #hazbin rosie x reader #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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j3suschr111st · 3 months ago

Text

dolly: chapter ii.

"the observer."

distant mind and gray noise, an isolated doll maker haunted by past choices comes to ablution when he encounters his own prototype. the story of two souls unaware of their beauty.

pairing: perv!san x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut (mdni)

tw: nsfw, gore, violence, not for the fainthearted.

word count: 3.3k

series masterlist. previous chapter. next chapter.

୨୧

bask in the glory of skies clearing up, bent and parted, to bring love together. unplanned silver lining, san looks at you as you walk away absentmindedly to the counter, smiling to himself, he's at peace. like his problems had never existed before, not a worry in the world. the sun now coming in the windows, thrill restored feels like an unexplored sentiment. you're real, you've changed your outfit, you go out, you do stuff, you have a real life. he's completely charmed it could make him cry, but this time, joyful tears would come out. reassured of his planned fate, he nods to himself and walks to the door. side eyeing your friend who's currently way too focused on his phone, there's no space for jealousy right now, he'll give it time.

he wishes he could stay longer with you, he does, he wants to stare at you for twenty four hours, seven days a week, but the rush of the moment, the awkwardness of getting up just to sit back down again pulls him outside. the campus is big enough for him to take a half hour walk around, picturing a scene of you in every corner. his mouth numb from smiling so much, he kneels under the bright sky, sunflowers around him. he takes note of the baby blue dress you were wearing, grateful to whoever crafted the red lipstick you donned, defining your natural pout.

roaming around between the pressured students, thinking of all the stories you would tell him if you were giving him a tour right now, the moment to turn back to the cafeteria came. he saw you leaving your friend with a hug, relieved to not witness any mouth-to-mouth action, and if you were to have a boyfriend, he sensed he wouldn't allow you to have a male friend, too much beauty around would be dangerous and any man would understand, elucidated availability to him, well, not that he cared. you look like a cloud, a symphony of destruction won't matter to him as long as you're the pied piper. your steps lead him to a nearby park, where you settle against a tree to revise. he questions whether he should come up to you, but what should he say? he's terrible with words, terrible with women, and he does not want to mess up with you, not of all people in the whole entire world, he'd rather die than to make a terrible first impression on you. you, the most perfect girl he's ever seen.

so at first, he decides he'll be just an observer. study what you like in a man and become that, study your needs and wants, then pretend it's all actually him so you'd fall for him, easy. carefully angling his phone towards you, annoyed at the lack of privacy and limited variations, he captures your essence, concentrated eyes, thighs showing, biting into your pen, inspiration sparks into him, angel sight.

mentally kissing you goodbye, hating to see your figure get smaller and smaller, he walks into his car with butterflies in his stomach. today he met excitement again, lighten ideas and whet fashions.

he grabs his latest work, a doll that's meant to look exactly like you, same hair and colours. he spends the whole day painting her to sublimity, an honoring manifestation. he usually takes the weekends off, but she needed her baby blue dress, so with tunnel vision focus, a boiling course through his body, he sews her little clothes at it's most accuracy.

his penis perked up and wet, out of boxers he's been owning for five years now, aching for the sweetness of your lips. "my y/n, you looked so fucking beautiful in that dress", he holds up his latest masterpiece, plain replica of you. "oh? you wore it just for me? that's my girl, mine, mine only." with his other hand, he starts to please himself, as always, thinking of you. "hm baby, just like that." shaky breaths, cyan silk, moving his hand up and down his shaft as he made your replication stare, slowly bringing her lower and lower to his member.

he never did this to his dolls, a self declared gentleman and caretaker would never disrespect his mini ladies, but it was you who enticed a flame into him. the way your hips swayed as you walked in front of him, how you occasionally sucked on the folds of your fingers, the wind blowing your hair back making your neck look even more appetizing to him. his pace fastened, miserable moans heard until his white release covered her solid face, dripping into her newly sewn dress, claimed in mad wonder. "you did so good my love."

the next day arrived, pilates monday it is. he found the studio you mentioned on his phone and checked their schedule, you must be from group d. this time he remembers to shower, thinking he could get used to this new routine, as previously when he saw himself obliged to go out, he wouldn't even bother to even look at himself in the mirror, black hoodie, sweatpants and a mask made justice for him. his mirrors now free from sheets, forcing him to face the loathe of his life: himself.

"are you an artist?" the smiling red haired cashier asked as she scanned the human anatomy book.

"no" san simply murmured.

"well you have the look, uhm... it'll be $14,34" he eyed the stairs right in the corner, where you could be walking in any minute, or maybe you did and he stupidly missed you as he was browsing the library. "here you go sir, have a ni-" approaching the stairs rapidly, he'd been too patient, he needed to see you now.

he found himself in a monochrome corridor with three doors on each side, the three rooms in the left with big windows half covered by curtains and an old water dispenser at the end of the hall. currently the second room was the noisiest, as he got closer he saw all the feminine bodies, laughing and chatting while they stretched, huff, none of them pretty enough.

for a second he wondered if you could be sick, the class was already starting and you weren't present, did he get the wrong time? had they rescheduled? maybe he could find out where you lived, bring you some tea and look after you so you can cuddle at night?.

"it's starting oh my god we're so stupid."

"this is so embarrassing," as you run up the stairs with karina, you slipped on one of the steps and she pulled you up by your inner elbow. "shit i almost fell."

"dumbass, go go go."

it was like a flash. once again you didn't even look his way, which he was thankful for as you would've found him in a dumbfounded state, appealing disadvantage on his side. doted on your laugh, your big smile and your thight clothes. you were wearing all black today and it almost sent him into cardiac arrest, he leaned against the wall, you were gonna be the death of him.

san had declared this his luckiest day as his figure could be safely covered by the curtain, and as your tardiness made you take the space closer to the door, he had a perfect view of you. you seemed nervous around the new group of people, he only wanted to come in and give you an encouraging hug.

cobra pose, downward dog and his favorite, cat cow. san watched you attentively as he filmed with his phone, allowing his mind to decorate your image at the latest hours, in his bed, pounding on y...

"hey boy," the janitor decided to appear "you waitin' for someone?." san didn't reply, taken back by the old man just trying to do his job "go sit in the back, would ya?." the man continued swiping the floor, shaking his head at the young man who secretly aimed him a middle finger.

one thing san had always been consistent with is his job, making dolls for 10 years easily became his whole lifestyle. every month he had at least five new models and the incoming orders offering big amounts of payment were enough encouragement. he never took vacations, what could he do anyway? he didn't know anything else, or anyone else, no friends, no family, might as well just keep doing the only thing he knows how to do. but that was until you came up in his life. this sudden obsession, he craved you more than anything and looking at you for only 10 minutes was just not enough. so he had no other choice but to miss work hours and follow you home, already claimed as his so might as well.

in the meantime, he checked the location on his social media and, rhythm startled, was jumpscared to find a mirror selfie your friend and you had just taken a minute ago, your tagged account being completely public, bingo.

"you sure you don't wanna go?" karina looked down at you packing your stuff.

"no i'm good, i got stuff to catch up on, haven't properly cleaned my home in like a week you know," you both got out of the room walking downstairs. "plus i still have that pizza from saturday."

"we really thought we could eat three pizzas in one night."

"yeah, can't let it go to waste."

"why won't you invite jacob over to help you? he needs the carbs," she nudged your shoulder teasingly.

"oh my god, will you stop with that?" you blushed at the mention of jacob, a much taller guy from your history class, a jock if you will. maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on him, i mean, who wouldn't? he's manly, confident, a gentleman, always opening the door for women, and he's one of the most ambitious people you've met.

"he likes you, i'm telling you, you've gotta give him a chance."

"you know i can't," karina rolled her eyes as you both repeated the same phrase "my gap year to paris."

"your gap year to paris, listen, you're not gonna be gone forever are you?" she grabbed your shoulders as of trying to snap you into the obvious. "and you can still text."

"i don't know, he's just... too perfect, he wouldn't look my way."

"girl, i saw the way he was looking at you at the hills, literally eating you with his eyes," karina playfully fake ate your hand and you both exited the building in a puddle of laughs. san was horrified, he could almost throw up at the savagery his ears just caught on, sick and twisted.

"i'll see you tomorrow," you hugged your friend. you'd only met karina a couple months ago, when she transferred to your small town and instantly became close friends, a free fall of care and friendship, she was like an older sister to you, even if you were of the same age.

"see you babes, and don't miss your chance with jake, i'm telling you."

"yeah whatever, take care."

"love you." you put on your headphones and disassociate your walk home. you've tried to get your license before but honestly, you preferred the fresh air, thankful for the privilege of sidewalks and security around, hearts of guardian angels and trust.

it's been almost two years since you moved out, your studio apartment might be small, old and scratched up, but you're happy to finally get the fridge space all to yourself, to decorate with all the books and vintage ornaments you wanted and have your own solo parties to the type of music you pleased.

pages scattered, unfolded bedsheets, glasses from evenings of unanswered phone calls. you've talked it out many times before, but such upbringing stays a fog. paying no deserved mind, you spent the whole day deep cleaning your beloved home, ashamed box hidden under your wardrobe, kicked and out of sight. you could do anything and chose to lay in your couch, loaded melancholy. another lonely weight reminded you of your earlier conversation, what if jacob really had feelings for you? a perilous shot to be stained, you opened your chat with him trying to come up with an excuse of conversation, only to keep deleting it before being sent, cursing a rue. you curled up in your blanket, better safe than sorry, a lament lullaby.

as you (unknowingly) guided san towards your street, he found the hotel in front of your building at light, requesting the room right in front of the balcony he spotted on a selfie you posted a while ago. candled plush sitting at dawn, he found comfort at the window frame, tied by rouse. your shadow moving around out of reach, in his eyes, he's not over.

one night turns into four, then five, then two weeks, commissions closed, disused residency and terminating restraint. he followed you almost every single day, stalked your social media to obsession and daily masturbated to your figure on the curtain. he memorized your work days and classes. he noticed your favorite pilates positions (and took notes). he learned your favorite music, using your public playlist and the songs you blasted at night as an idea. he learned your favorite foods, as you had your breakfast in your balcony and through the discarded envelopes he found in your trash. he learned the size of your bras and your preferred model of panties as he stands in the middle of your room, dim and silent.

"gill from nemo? are you kidding me?" you'd asked ally to help you grocery shop earlier today, then somehow ended discussing about your innocent youth and what you used to like.

"you said you wouldn't judge," ally looked down ashamed.

"ok sorry i wasn't expecting your childhood crush to be a fucking fish."

"a moorish idol mind you."

"oh so now you're a fish expert?" you grabbed some butter.

"he's giving dilf," she shrugged.

"gross."

"you haven't told me yours, go on."

"i don't know, a normal one?" you pretended to think. "ooh, remember peter pan from the live action?"

"of course, he was everyone's crush," ally nodded in agreement.

"i know! i used to leave my window open at night so he would come in," you mentally slapped yourself at your confession.

"oh to be as hopeful as when we were kids."

"you said it."

little did she know you still did that, occasionally, the need of hope was heavy. this morning's class was dismissed for unclarified reasons, but since you couldn't go back to sleep, you decided to watch your favorite childhood movies, peter pan (2003) directed by pj hogan happened to be one of them. as tears fell down your cheeks, the ending credits rolled down the screen and you don't know if your nostalgic crying is a happy one or not. thinking of the time you secretly watched this movie for the first time, an instant calm, a moment where you could relax and mentally escape. you imagined a prince rescuing you many times, taking you to neverland and never seeing anyone ever again. those were the sparks of spirits you clinged to rather than the overcasted childhood you deemed lost.

you wiped your tears, feeling silly and glad that no one could see you in this state, walked to the window of your room and opened it, breeze on your face, but you didn't mind, the rush of adrenaline was worth it. you felt like looking at a 7 year old in the mirror again and although your crushing gaze shifted to captain hook this time, the feeling of childish desire gave you comfort.

as your multiple tote bags hang from your shoulders, you walked to ally's car, talking to her absentmindedly about a game you used to play until she suddenly stops in her tracks, frowning at the phone in her hand. "thank you for driving me by the way, so lucky that classes were cancelled today" you look at her skin quickly turning pale "i do need to get the dairies home but i'll be quick and then we can pick up karina..." used to her dramatic behavior, you gave yourself a moment to release the heaviness of the bags, the amount of large peanut butter jars should be the main concern right now, but when you noticed the whites of eyes widening, face still in shock, you slowly walked back to her.

"is everything alright?" you leaned over to look at her, then at her phone.

"it's mr. perez..." she scrolled back up to show you the title of the article she'd d been sent, bold in big letters.

'college professor stabbed to death, no suspects found at the scene.'

san knew you never missed your little stretching sessions, but he didn't expect you to leave so early and although he's curious to know where exactly you went, he can't help but notice that unlike most days, your window was left open. the risk of midday was pronounced but so was the dread of his hotel guest days ending, having to turn back home to his 'normal' habits, far from you. dark clouds painted the sky, strong breezes tasting of liquid alarms, the streets cleared of people who'd rather stay home, he took advantage from emptiness and ran to the emergency stairs before he could be seen. years of training in his private gym allowed him to manoeuvre himself to your balcony, heavy breathing, into your window.

he took in the scene, the smell, your essence. the strawberry cake diffuser decorated the air, pink accents and teddy bears made his heart flutter and the bra hanging from your headboard sent a pulse through his body. he can't help but wonder if you'd ever touched yourself, how many times and when. if you would ever touch yourself to the thought of him like he does. your bed an unmade poem he's willing to rewrite, he lets his instincts take over and slowly presses his pelvis against the mattress with the deepest whine of release. he recognizes your nightstand from the picture you posted in march where it casted a golden hour. now things were a little scattered, used and lived. he looks around, understanding the intensiveness of your decorations, but soon enough he'll spoil you he thinks, you won't have to work a day in your life, his parents' inheritance is more than enough for both of you to live together happily ever after.

he knows he's doing what's right, that it's meant to be, that your future together is closer than ever and him breaking into your home won't interfere your faith. that's why when he takes one of your used panties from the laundry basket and presses it to his nose, a yearning emotion overwhelms him to tears. he's in love with you and having you this close will only push him forward. he doesn't exactly know the cause of his wept, drowned in pressure and a bit of eagerness. on a remnant note, your apartment is now seen blurred. he cries and cries pathetically, sorrow impatient nauseous him to a deep breath. he dries his face with the soaked white undergarment and leaves it where he found it, thinking it all away. he looks at the time, you must be beginning your class right now, so he'll have to leave in about an hour to catch you, in case you got plans after. laying down on your bed, eyes closed to reach nirvana, to reach ecstasy far from the obscurity of his head.

announced by your wind chime and shaky windows, it eventually starts to rain. the impact on the surface of your balcony travel a gentle patter to his ears. your name a soft chant, his hands on his crotch. watered leaves and the jingle of keys, right outside your door.

୨୧

next chapter.

#choi san x reader #choi san angst #choi san smut #choi san fic #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez fic

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