#I was startled by how close you actually have to be to dance with them

[dynjay]

Memory Lane

Part 2 of 2

[Prev]

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The second part! There's a panel missing here where I was going to show Rachel playing the same piece she played at the wedding for them to dance to in the background, but I wasn't sure what kind of device she'd have?

I'm not sure if smartphones are a thing or if she'd use something like a record player, so I just decided to omit it altogether. Just pretend they have music playing in the background I promise they're not dancing in silence :')

[diamonddaze01]

baby, darling, light of my entire life

pairing: csc x fem!reader genre: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, slice of life | wc: 2.4k au: married au! warning: alcohol consumption (by the reader) | rating: e for everyone

summary: it's laughable how much you forget when you drink.

a/n: one day when i say i’m writing a drabble i will actually write a drabble. one day. that day is not today. // the cheol angst is taking forever so here have some fluff as a precursor // flashbacks in italics!

“WOW,” you shout (very loudly, he thinks) in Seungcheol’s ear. “YOU’RE LIKE, REALLY PRETTY!” 

Seungcheol flinches, rubbing his ear as your voice cuts through the pounding bass of the club. The flashing lights reflect off the crowd around you, turning everything into a blur of motion, but all Seungcheol can focus on is you—his overly drunk wife—looking up at him with wide, dazzled eyes like he’s some stranger you’ve just met.

He had known this would happen. Letting you go out with Jeonghan, Joshua, and their girlfriends without him was practically inviting chaos into the night. He would’ve joined you if work hadn’t held him back, and guilt had gnawed at him all evening for canceling plans yet again (was it guilt, or fear of retribution from Jeonghan? He’d never tell). He’d figured he could catch up with you at the club before things got too crazy.

Clearly, he’d been wrong.

When Seungcheol finally arrives, the table your group has reserved is a mess of empty glasses, and the dance floor is packed with bodies swaying to the beat. It isn’t hard to spot Jeonghan trying to keep you out of trouble—tall and exasperated, attempting to pull you away from a guy you seem hellbent on kicking in the balls.

“I’LL LET YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE A BOYFRIEND,” you screech, words slurring together and voice so loud Seungcheol can hear it on the other side of the dance floor. “AND HE’S THE BESTESTEST - LET GO OF ME!”

Jeonghan, bless his soul, is no match for your drunken ferocity, and lets out a startled yelp as you yank your hands free from his grip and stalk away in a huff. Seungcheol watches with growing amusement as you stumble toward where he stands on the dance floor, eyes lighting up the second you spot him.

“WOW,” you repeat, stopping just inches from him, blinking up at him with childlike awe. “YOU’RE LIKE, REALLY PRETTY.”

Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle under his breath. Your wobbling stance, the way your gaze fixes on him with the same starry-eyed amazement as if you’re seeing him for the first time—it’s all too familiar. He leans in slightly, humoring you.

“Oh really?” he teases, though his lips twitch with amusement. You’re giving him the same starry-eyed look you gave him when you first confessed—though, admittedly, you’re significantly less intoxicated now. Well… maybe not that much less. “You think so?”

You’d had one too many drinks, laughing hysterically with Jeonghan and Joshua about something stupid—something Seungcheol couldn't even remember now. All he could remember was the way your eyes had kept flickering to him, playful but shy, as if you had something on your mind but weren’t quite sure how to say it. He’d leaned in close, pretending to listen to Jeonghan’s nonsense, but really, he was trying to get closer to you.

“Hey, Cheol,” you slurred that night, your voice softer than the buzz of the club, but enough to catch his attention. Your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, your hair falling messily into your eyes, but there was a different look behind them this time—something more serious.

“Yeah?” Seungcheol had leaned in, smiling softly. You were always cute when you were drunk, but tonight, something felt... different. You weren’t just tipsy; you were nervous.

“I have a secret,” you whispered, as if you were sharing the world’s biggest conspiracy.

Seungcheol blinked, amused. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

You took a deep breath, looking around as if you were checking for eavesdroppers before meeting his gaze again. “I...I think you’re really pretty - like. REALLY PRETTY,” you blurted out, your eyes wide with sincerity. “And I think I really, really like you.”

The words hung in the air between you, and Seungcheol remembered feeling his heart skip a beat. He’d liked you for months at that point—he was pretty sure the whole group knew it—but you’d never given him any real sign that you felt the same way. Until now.

“You like me, huh?” Seungcheol had teased, leaning closer, his lips inches from yours. “Or are you just saying that because you’re drunk?”

You had frowned, swaying slightly, but your hands had reached for him, gripping his shirt tightly as if he might disappear. “No, I mean it. I like you,” you had insisted, your eyes growing glassy, a little too honest for your own good. “I don’t wanna be just friends anymore. I want you to be mine.”

Seungcheol’s chest had swelled with affection. “Well,” he had whispered back, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, “I think I’ve been yours for a long time, baby.”

You had blinked at him, confusion flickering in your eyes before a slow, wide smile spread across your lips. “Wait, really?” you asked, the disbelief clear in your voice.

Seungcheol had chuckled, pulling you into his arms then, your confession making his heart race. “Yeah, really,” he whispered before finally closing the distance, pressing his lips against yours.

Seungcheol’s heart swells as he looks at you, those same glassy, honest eyes reflecting an undeniable truth. In this moment, even if you don’t fully recognize him, he can feel it—the love you hold for him is woven into every glance, every flicker of emotion. It’s a warmth that wraps around him, grounding him despite the chaos.

“Yeah,” you breathe, nodding vigorously as if this is the most important fact you’ve ever shared. “But I can’t talk to you,” you add in a whisper, glancing around as if someone might overhear. “I have a boyfriend.”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching at your secrecy. “A boyfriend, huh?”

You nod, taking a wobbly step closer. Your hand lands on his arm, fingers curling around the fabric of his jacket like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling over. “Mhm. He’s got these big, strong arms… like yours,” you muse, eyes drifting over his frame with an approving once-over. “And the cutest smile ever. And—wait, are you his twin?” you ask, your voice suddenly full of suspicion.

Seungcheol barely manages to contain his laughter. “No, baby, I’m not his twin.”

Your face brightens again. “Good, because I’m not allowed to flirt with anyone who’s not him,” you declare, though the way you’re still clutching his arm suggests otherwise. “But you’re really pretty, so don’t get any ideas.”

You turn to walk away and suddenly whip back around, pointing an accusing finger in his face. He almost falls over. “And DON’T call me baby! Only my boyfriend can call me that.”

Seungcheol lets out a long, suffering sigh, rubbing a hand over his face to hide his grin. “Baby…”

“HEY! NO!”

He steals a glance at Jeonghan, who has now joined Joshua and their girlfriends at the edge of the dance floor, clearly done with playing babysitter. Jeonghan gives him a knowing smirk, mouthing good luck before turning away. Seungcheol’s patience wears thin, but he can’t help the fond smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you, swaying slightly under the flashing lights of the club. You’re an adorable mess: cheeks flushed from alcohol, eyes wide and glassy as they struggle to focus on him. Every time the music pulses, your body sways, and Seungcheol instinctively tightens his grip on your waist to keep you steady.

“Baby. Darling. Light of my entire life.” His hands slide from your waist to your shoulders, squeezing gently, trying to ground you in the midst of your drunken haze. He crouches slightly, so he’s at eye level with you, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a tenderness that makes your heart skip. You blink up at him, clearly confused, your brows knitting together as if trying to figure out a puzzle too complicated for your current state.

“I. Am. Your. Husband,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, almost as though speaking to a child.

Your eyes widen dramatically, hands flying to your chest as if struck by some earth-shattering revelation. “No way!” you gasp, your voice filled with pure astonishment. Your gaze roams over him as if you’re seeing him for the very first time. The lights of the club flicker against his face, casting shadows over his sharp features, and for a second, even in your drunken state, you marvel at just how beautiful he is. “Are you serious?!” you whisper, your tone full of awe.

Seungcheol closes his eyes for a brief moment, fighting back the laughter bubbling in his chest. He leans in, closer this time, until his lips brush against your ear. The familiar warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine. “Yes, I am very serious,” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice sending butterflies into your already churning stomach.

You blink up at him again, head tilting slightly as if processing this newfound information is a monumental task. The room seems to spin a little, and you reach out instinctively, clutching at his arms to steady yourself. “But…” you start, your voice trailing off as you bite your lip, your brows furrowing in deep confusion. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I’m married?”

Seungcheol groans softly, though a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He pulls you in by the waist, his strong arms wrapping around you like a protective barrier from the chaos around you. “You were at the wedding, baby,” he says, exasperation dripping from every word, though his tone is laced with affection. “You were the bride.”

Your eyes flutter as you stare up at him, still trying to wrap your mind around this incredible information. The flickering lights above, the faint scent of alcohol and sweat from the club, the warmth of Seungcheol’s arms around you—it all feels dreamlike. “Wait, so… you’re my boyfriend and my husband?” you ask, your voice rising in a mix of disbelief and wonder.

“Yup,” he says with a soft chuckle, his dimpled smile deepening as he looks down at you. That smile, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, sends a rush of warmth through your already tipsy mind. Even in your inebriated state, the sight of it makes your heart race. “You really hit the jackpot, huh?”

“NO. WAY,” you repeat, this time louder, your voice filled with awe as you step back slightly, your eyes scanning him again as if to check if this is all real. The music pounds in your ears, but you can barely hear it now over the sound of your own giddiness. “And… do we live together? Like, in a house?”

Seungcheol lets out another soft laugh, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. His fingers linger for a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek before resting gently on your shoulder. “Yes, baby, we do. You even picked out the curtains.”

The memory of your shared home floods your mind—each detail a testament to your love. Sunlight pours through the cheerful curtains you’ve chosen, illuminating the cozy living room where laughter echoes like music. The kitchen, with its warm scents of your culinary experiments and his late-night snacks, feels alive with the essence of you. Every nook and cranny speaks of the warmth you’ve woven into his life, transforming a mere house into a home, brimming with love and memories.

Your eyes widen in recognition, and you gasp, your hands clapping over your mouth. “And they’re so nice!” you exclaim, shaking your head in disbelief. “I have great taste.” You pause, narrowing your eyes at him as another thought pops into your alcohol-clouded brain. “Does my boyfriend—uh, husband,” you correct yourself with a dramatic flair, pointing a finger at him as if delivering an important verdict, “does he know how lucky he is?”

Seungcheol can’t hold back his laughter this time. It’s rich and warm, rumbling from his chest as he pulls you closer, his arms snug around your waist. “Oh, trust me, he knows,” he replies, his voice softening as he presses a tender kiss to your temple.

Even when you can’t remember him, Seungcheol feels a swell of gratitude for your love—for the quiet mornings entangled in the sheets, for spontaneous late-night adventures, for the way your laughter brightens his day.

You sigh in contentment, leaning into his chest, the weight of your body completely sinking into his warmth. The booming bass of the club seems to fade into the background as you melt against him, finding solace in his steady heartbeat and familiar scent. “He’s so lucky,” you mumble, your voice barely audible against the fabric of his shirt, but Seungcheol hears it loud and clear.

He smiles, brushing his lips across the top of your head. “He really is.”

For a moment, the world around you both seems to pause. The chaotic energy of the club, the distant chatter, and the bright lights all fade as you stand wrapped in each other’s arms, content in this little bubble of warmth. But then, just as quickly, you pull back, your brows furrowed in concentration. You blink up at him, still slightly suspicious. “Wait… does this mean I have to go home with you?”

Seungcheol’s deep chuckle reverberates through his chest as he gently brushes a stray hair from your face, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “Yeah, baby, that’s usually how marriage works,” he replies, his voice dripping with amusement.

You frown, trying to piece everything together in your hazy mind. "But I don’t want to leave the club yet… we’re having fun, right?” you ask, your tone almost pleading, as though the thought of leaving this electric energy behind is too much to bear.

At that, Seungcheol’s gaze hardens a little as he leans down, glinting with unspoken promises. He presses a kiss under your ear, relishing in the way you shiver and press against him (he can’t help himself— the dress you’re wearing right now is sin incarnate). His lips linger against your skin for a moment longer, feeling your heart rate speed up at his antics. “We’ll have even more fun at home,” he murmurs, his voice deep and sultry; he smirks when you stumble a little in his grip, knees growing weak.

But of course, he’s not getting lucky tonight—you pull back just as quickly as you melted in his arms. You squint at him, narrowing your eyes as suspicion creeps in, your drunken mind still struggling to grasp the concept. “You’re not just saying that because you’re so pretty, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning in until his face is mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your lips. His dark eyes sparkle with mischief as his voice drops to a low, teasing whisper. “You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

For a long moment, you stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind trying to decide whether or not to kiss him right then and there. The world seems to slow around you, the only thing you can focus on is him—the way his lips hover so close to yours, the way his arms wrap securely around you, and the soft, affectionate look in his eyes. Finally, you let out a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Fine,” you say, leaning in slightly, your lips brushing his with the faintest touch. “But only because you’re so pretty.”

[catherinnn]

Guilty as Sin

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

a blurb where Hopper catches you two in the middle of a cozy night at Lover's lake.

warnings: very smutty but (unfortunately) they can't get to anything.

masterlist

It was the middle of the night. Lover’s lake was practically empty since it was a Thursday night. But Wayne had interrupted your plans with your boyfriend when he announced that he had the day off and planned on watching a marathon of those really old movies he loves so much until he fell asleep on the couch. So the idea of watching some slasher with Eddie until getting bored and started making out was out of the question. Hence, plan B: parking at Lover’s lake to smoke, star-gaze and then a make-out session. 

You were currently in the back of the van, sat on Eddie’s lap, french-kissing him. 

His hands grab onto your waist like a dog to a bone. Your hands tangle in his hair and pull on it every so often like you know he loves. 

It isn’t until he starts to move your hips ever so lightly back and forth that it gets messy. 

You remove the leather jacket off of him, his hands get out of the sleeves to now grab your hips as if he wanted to leave marks. Tongues dance together as if it was a tango. 

Eddie was very talkative during sex usually. But there are times, like this one, where he just got lost in the moment, in your touch, in your body, and stayed quiet. Paying so closely attention to every single detail of you, that form sentences would just interrupt him.

He moves your skirt upwards to slide his hands under it and grab two handfuls of your cheeks. Moving you easier now to grind your clothed sexes together. The kiss gets even messier somehow. You lift his shirt and suddenly decide it’s getting in the way too much, so you take it off of him and throw it beside you two. 

He stops kissing your lips to move lower. One thing about Eddie is that he loves to mark you up. So his lips cling to your neck like ivy and you whisper your moans and whimpers in his ear. He keeps moving your hips to his liking. Back and forth and pushing them down harder to feel more friction. 

You can feel how your underwear gets wetter and wetter, just like he can feel his pants getting tighter and tighter. 

He nips and sucks and licks and kisses your neck with no mercy, like a lion to its haunt. 

Both of you so lost in each other that you don’t even hear the footsteps around the van. That is until a bright light is directed at both of you, scaring you and blinding you in a matter of seconds. 

“What the fuck?!” Eddie shouts, startled. And when your eyes get –kind of– used to the light, you are able to see Hopper standing there. 

“What the hell are you two doing here so late?” He asks tiredly and you get off of your boyfriend to sit next to him now, he still grabs you as if this was just a momentary interruption.

Eddie sighs. “If I said we were just talking, would you believe me?”

Hopper just looks at him unimpressed.

“Well, we were! just… quite a few minutes ago” Eddie adds.

“Kids, this is a public place, I can’t allow you to stay here and do this with no mind” 

“Oh come on, Chief! it’s called Lover’s Lake for a reason. Just give me 30 minutes and we’ll be out of here” Eddie tries to negotiate. 

“30 minutes?” Hopper bursts out laughing. “What will you do with 25 minutes of spare time after you’re done?” 

“What-?” Eddie rolls his eyes at the teasing and you have to bite down your giggle.

“You running some kind of scam, Munson? Cause I don’t see how else you landed a girl like her with this van and that hair of yours” he teases. 

That actually does make you chuckle. 

“Hop, buddy, be honest with me, we know each other well enough. Are you just jealous? When was the last time you got frisky in a van? Huh? I should lend you the keys sometime” Eddie mocks him too. 

“Alright, kid. You’re starting to piss me off. Put your shirt back on and get going. Go climb her window while her parents sleep or something, i don’t care” 

You try to get up to leave but Eddie’s hands on you tighten to stop you before you can even move forward. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you’re kicking us out or whatever, but can we just take a second to appreciate the romance here? I mean, I parked the van under the stars with a perfect view of the lake. It’s practically poetic, man” 

You don’t even know why he keeps trying to fight with Hopper. 

“I’m tearing up, kid. Now get the hell out” 

“Let’s just go, Eds” you tell him. 

“Damn it, I get it! Public indecency and all that. But shouldn’t the police be more concerned with, I dunno, actual crimes? Rather than two –hot– consenting adults getting cozy?” he keeps rambling.

“Alright, what do you think? Should I be concerned about drugs being dealt in school instead?” Hopper throws at him.

“Alright! we’ll get out of here, officer” Eddie quickly catches the hint and gets up.

[curawrites]

Bonded

Ridoc Gamlyn x fem!markedone!Reader

Warnings: Fourth Wing spoilers, Iron Flame spoilers, a little angst I guess, fluff, smut, cursing, dry humping, p in v sex, cumming inside.

Note: Sorry for the late post! Exam season has been kicking my ass and figuring the plot of these fics has been a bit tricky! I decided to include a little bonus that I wrote this for this story initially but didn’t end up working so enjoy! 💚

Tag list: @ttheslutttybookwworm @sheblogs @mazzer @luvly-writer @river-of-woe @celeste-fourthwing

You had always imagined that you would've been the kind of cadet to party when you finally graduated. But nothing felt worthy of a celebration after what happened at Resson. The deaths of Liam and Solei had scarred you deeply. They had been some of your closest friends along with Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, and Xaden.

Losing them had put into perspective how much you were going to miss the remaining friends you had now that you would all be separated.

While Imogen and Bohdi would be staying at Basgaith for their third year, Xaden and Garrick would be deployed to their assigned outpost in Samara, as would you, except your outpost was in Athbyne.

Your summer was spent with them all of course, but you did prioritize spending time with Bodhi and Imogen more. Unlike Garrick and Xaden who you'd be seeing for your weapon smuggling endeavors, visiting the quadrant to see the former two was out of the question.

At least that's what you had thought.

It seemed that witnessing Deigh's death had caused your dragon Iskra, a beautiful red female morningstartail, to realize how fleeting a dragon's life could be.

In the many centuries that she had been alive, she had never taken a mate, until now.

You should have been happy for her, excited even and you were, truly. But her choice of mate only left you with questions..

“Remind me again why you decided to become mates with Aotrom..? He’s a fucking idiot of a dragon..” You sighed heavily in your mind.

Iskra lets out a sound that could be interpreted as a purr through the bond, “He makes me laugh.” She replied, her tone dripping with warmth as she watched Aotrom do some sort of mating dance for her.

You smacked your face into your palm with a loud groan.

Not only had she chosen an idiot for a mate, she had also tied you to his idiot rider, Ridoc.

Its not like you were completely unaware of his existence prior to your dragons mating. But back then he was simply another bed hopping first year that wasn't worth any of your time.

And now he was your... Fuck buddy? Lover?? You didn’t really know. It was complicated to say the least.

You were well aware that you had grown rather fond of Ridoc as the result of the bond, as did he towards you. Your relationship had even progressed beyond the point of meaningless sex and it scared you.

The secrets that you kept from him were far from simple. Not only were you hiding the fact that you were apart of the revolution, and that you've been smuggling weapons along side Xaden and Garrick to flyers so they could fight the venin, but you also had a second signet.

Startling you out of your trance, Ridoc had slithered his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind.

He pulled you in close as he tucked your head under his chin, comfortably resting his own on top of yours, “And they say romance is dead.” He scoffed as he observed the scene before him.

You watched as Iskra walked to Aotrom’s side, dragging her tail under his chin in a soft caress as she eyed him hungrily. They must have been communicating through their bond, because before you knew it both dragons had taken off and were flying in the direction of the vale.

You shook your head in disbelief, "I can't believe that dance actually worked on her.." you sighed.

He only hummed in response as his arms tightened around you, “I missed you.” he said affectionately through your bond.

A blush crept up your cheeks, “I missed you too..” you grumbled, letting yourself bask in his embrace.

A grin spread onto his face as he lowered his head to your shoulder, “Awww your blushing, Y/n/n.~” he teased.

You throw him a glare from over your shoulder, “Don’t push it or I’m not staying with you this weekend.” You warned playfully.

He gasped dramatically, “You wouldn’t dare!”

You eyed him mischievously, “Oh but I would! Bodhi and Imogen have been begging me to go out with them so maybe I’ll do just that!” You smirked.

He rolled his eyes, “As if- You literally only spend your time here with them and Xaden if he’s here! It’s my turn.” He whined.

A soft sigh left your lips, “Well when two of your friend dies tragically you kinda want to spend as much time as you can with the others.” You tried to joke but it fell flat.

Ridoc looked at you with a saddened gaze, “Y/n, I didn’t know that was the reason..” He mumbled.

You blinked at him a few times before looking towards the ground, “Well I never really told you.. Anyways take me to your dorm already I'm dying to get out these flight leathers.” You huffed.

A grin returned to his face, “With pleasure.~” he teased.

-

“Gods Y/n/n.. please never stop wearing those nightgowns.” Ridoc muttered as he watched you brush out your damp hair.

After taking a quick shower, you had slipped into a short, gauzy, blue, lace trimmed nightgown you had bought off of a flyer during one of your weapon drops.

You glanced towards him, “You like em?” You asked, knowing very well the answer.

He nodded as he sat up from his previously laying position, “You have no idea how much I love them. I would literally give you money to buy more.” He said as he watched you braid your hair.

That made you snort, “I’d have to find time to go buy more.” You sigh quietly before walking towards his bed.

Ridoc pulled you into his lap, “The next time I’m in Athbyne we can go together. Then I get to pick out whatever I want.~” his hands found their way under the gauzy material.

Your cheeks warmed, “Mmm..~ That would be fun but I can’t have you leaving the outpost. The General would have my head if more cadets end up in danger near the border.” You say as you dragged your hands down his chest to his abdomen.

The excuse wasn’t a complete lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

A groan left his lips as he caressed your bare hips and ass, “You’re not wearing panties..~” he said huskily through the bond.

Your eyes meet his lustful gaze as a smirk tugged at the corners of your mouth, “I’m not wearing anything but this nightgown.~” you purred as your hips shifted against his growing erection.

His hands immediately traveled upwards to cup your tits, “Spoiling me tonight now are you?~” he grinned as he groped and squeezed your mounds.

Heat began to pool in your core as his hips moved against yours, “I’m just really in the mood..~” you bit back a moan.

Ridoc let his hands return to your hips as he guided them to grind against his, “I can tell by the way you’re soaking my briefs..~” he sat up and pulled you into a kiss.

Your lips melded against his as your fingers grasped at the elastic of his underwear. “I want them off. Now.~” you demand.

He smirked into the kiss, "You're so needy for me.~" he teased, nipping at your bottom lip.

You shoot him a flustered glare, "Don't even start.~" you huffed as you tried to hold yourself still against his moving hips.

The grip he had on your hips relaxed as he stopped grinding against you, "Fine, fine, fine.~" he rolled his eyes playfully as he let you sit up and away from his lap.

Your entire face flushed the second you saw the wet spot that stained the front of his briefs. Gods you had no idea you made such a mess. Before you could focus to hard on it, Ridoc was pushing his underwear down his thighs.

When you heard the thump of his underwear hitting the floor you couldn't stop yourself from sitting in his lap again.

A soft gasp left his lips as he felt your bare pussy press against his errection, "Eager now are you?~" he teased as his hands slipped under you nightgown again to caress your hips.

His touch made you shiver, "It took you long enough.~" you grumbled as you began to grind against him.

Ridoc groaned lowly, "Its not my fault that you're so needy tonight..~" he huffed as he guided your hips into a rhythm with his.

You leaned forward and kissed him passionately, "Shut up..~" you whined through your bond.

He smirked against your lips, "Never.~" he said defiantly.

Eventually you pulled away, panting softly as you pushed him down on the bed, "I need you..~" you muttered.

His cock twitched from how dominant you were being, "Need me how?~" he asked grinning.

Your hands plant themselves firmly on his chest as you rise to your knees, "Inside... I need you inside..~" you sigh as you hovered over his lap.

Not wanting to keep you or himself waiting, Ridoc reached under you to line his tip to your fluttering hole.

Slowly, you sink down the length of his cock, sighing softly as your pussy stretched around him, "Gods Ridoc..~" you muttered as he held you flush against him.

He held your hips firmly as he adjusted to the feeling of your walls squeezing around him tightly, "Fuck you feel so good..~" he sighed.

Using his chest as leverage, you begin to move on top of him, rolling your hips against his as you bounced yourself on his cock.

A breathy moan left your lips when you roll your hips just right, making his cock press against your g-spot, "Oh my gods.. that feels amazing..~" you pant as you rode him harder, chasing the pleasure that pulsed in your core.

Ridoc couldn't stop himself from moaning lowly as he thrusted up into you, "You're so wet and tight.. fuck!~" he muttered as your arousal pooled at the base of his cock.

Your thighs burned as you tried to keep up with the pace you had set, the tingling sensation eventually turned into numbness which spread down the rest of your legs. "N-no..~" you whimpered as you loss your rhythm, making your hips stutter to a stop.

Without you even asking, Ridoc planted his feet against the matress. "I got you Y/n/n..~" he panted as he continued to thrust into you, the hands that held your hips moved you against him.

Sweat dripped down your back as you sat up straighter in an attempt to relieve some of the strain on your legs.

Feeling the fabric of your nightgown sticking to your skin, you tore your hands away from his chest and pull the garment off, leaving you completely naked on top of him.

His cock twitched at the sight of your bouncing breasts, "Fuck you're so hot.~" he groaned as he thrusted up into you harder.

Moans tumbled freely from your lips as he kept pounding right into your g-spot, "Don't stop!~ Feels so good..!~" you beg as you felt your orgasm rapidly build in your gut.

Ridoc looked up to meet your half lidded gaze, "Are you close?~" he asked huskily through the bond.

Your pussy clenched at the sound of his voice, "Yes.. I'm-I-" you stuttered as his thumb rubbed your clit. "Gods.. I'm gonna cum..!~" you whined before throwing your head back as your eyes fluttered shut.

A loud whiney moan tore itself as your climax hit you full force, making your core tingle as pleasure wracked your entire body.

Your hips twitched and bucked against his thumb as he kept rubbing the sensitive bud. "Ridoc please..~" your eyes opened again, meeting his desperate gaze.

The sensation of your pussy fluttering and squeezing him tightly was tarting to become to much, "Oh fuck Y/n..~ You feel way to fucking good..~" he glanced to where you bodies met.

Your release had pooled at the base of his cock, forming a white ring as he kept thrusting inside of you.

He groaned as the sight pushed him over the edge, "I cant.. Fuck I'm cumming..!~" his thrust quickened messily.

Ridoc moaned lowly as he cummed into you, holding you firmly down on his lap as he panted.

Only the sounds of your labored breathing could be herd in his dorm as you both came down from your highs.

Eventually, you were the first to move, carefully removing yourself from his lap before sitting down beside him.

He propped himself up on his elbows as he turned his attention to you, "Are you okay?" he asked, noticing you were rubbing your hands over your stretched out legs.

A breathy laugh left your lips, "I'm just trying to regain feeling in my legs." you said before your eyes met his, "What about you, are you okay?" you flipped the question back on him.

Ridoc smiled softly, "I'm all good, Y/n/n.” He said as he stood up, “I’m just going to go get us something to clean up with, okay? I’ll be right back." he said as he handed you your night gown.

You took the garnement from him and slipped it back on, “Alright, thank you..” you said quietly before he walked off.

He was barely even gone for a minute before he returned with a warm, damp rag in his hand.

A breathy yawn slipped past your lips before you spoke, “That was quick..” you mumbled as you parted your legs for him.

Ridoc carefully cleaned his cum from your thighs and pussy before wiping whatever was left of his soften cock.

While you got yourself comfortable under the covers of his bed, he busied himself with putting his underwear back on and throwing the rag into his pile of dirty laundry.

Once done with that, he joined you under the covers and cuddled you from behind before pressing a soft kiss to your rebellion relic covered neck.

He nuzzled his nose against the marked skin gently before sighing contently, "Goodnight.." he muttered as he closed his eyes.

Your cheeks warmed, “Goodnight..” you whispered back quietly.

While the sweet gestures gave you butterflies, they also made your gut churn with guilt as you were reminded of all that you hid from him..

-

Bonus! (I couldn’t help but use the ShxtsNGigs podast “Do you miss me when I’m not around?” conversation as inspo for dialogue lol!)💚

After a long eventful week you were finally able to get some well needed rest. You were exhausted to say the least, both mentally and physically. Not only was your entire body aching from all the flying you'd done, but you were unfortunately forced to fight some fliers during one of your patrols. It killed you on the inside but you couldn't risk outing yourself as traitor to your fellow lieutenants.

By the time you had finally made it to your barrack, all you could think about was getting out of your flight leathers as fast as possible and going to sleep.

Using the last bit of your energy to open the door, you were finally able to gaze upon the one thing you craved most. Your bed.

But it wasn’t empty.

In it laid a shirtless Ridoc Gamlyn, comfortably tucked under your blankets, playing around with the wooden dragons Liam had made you.

A groan left your lips, “I forgot that you were coming here this weekend.” You sighed as you stepped into your barrack.

Ridoc set down the figurines on your night stand before he sat up in your bed, “I sure didn’t, been looking forward to it all week since I didn’t even see you last weekend.” He grinned as he watched you undress.

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t know that I had to see you every time and since you’re probably wondering, I hung out with Bodhi an-“

Ridoc interrupted you as he scoffed, “First of all.. you’ve been spending a lot of time with Bodhi and I feel.. left out.” He admitted.

Your head turned swiftly in his direction, “What? I can’t hang out with my friend? I literally see you every weekend, Ridoc!!” You cried out.

“Yeah for the dragons! You only come to Basgaith because they can’t be apart!” He shouted.

You chuck your flight leathers to the side angrily, “You come here for them too you idiot!” You yelled.

Ignoring your point he continued, “If our dragons weren’t bonded you wouldn’t come see me every weekend!” He retorted.

Your hands ran down your face in exasperation, “I literally wouldn’t be able to! Not to mention this-“ you gesture between yourself and him, "Would have never-"

Before you could finish your sentence he cut you off again, “Do you miss me when I’m not around?” He asked rather randomly.

You stared at him in complete disbelief as you tried to figure out if he was actually being genuine or not, “What do you even mean by that?” You chuckled awkwardly.

He let out a frustrated groan, “When it’s Friday and you’re seeing me in the evening do you think ‘Can’t wait to see Ridoc’? Or do you roll your eyes and say ‘Ridoc is arriving tonight’?” He stared at you expectantly.

You take a minute to actually think about it before answering, “It depends-“ You admit.

Ridoc gasped loudly as a smirk slowly spread across his face.

Panic quickly set in as you realized what you said, “Wait- wait! Let me answer! Let me answer!! Let me answer!!!” You wave your hands around wildly.

Ridoc laughed, “Y/n!! I’m asking you if you miss me when I’m not around!!” He whined.

Your eyes roll dramatically. “You’re fucking ridiculous..” you sighed as you took off the remainder of your clothes before slipping into a nightgown.

After a beat of silence he sighed, “Go on then, tell me what you did with him. Gods I can’t even say his name- What did you do with him?” He asked as he laid back down and stared at the ceiling.

You shake your head in exasperation as you climbed into bed next to him, “You’re so jealous.” You teased as he dragged you into a spooning position.

Ridoc huffed, “So what if I am?” He brushed away the hair from your neck.

A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers grazed your skin, “Well, if you would have let me finished you would have known that I hung out with Bodhi and Imogen.” You sassed.

He rolled his eyes, “Like that makes it any better.” He huffed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

An exasperated sigh left your lips as your eyes fluttered shut, “Goodnight, Ridoc.” you muttered as your body succumbed to its exhaustion.

You felt his lashes tickle your neck as his eyes closed, “Goodnight..” he sighed quietly.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 15

(Painting done by @Sugar-sprinkles Thank you again for the fan art, I love it!)

Warnings; nightmares, comfort after nightmares, communal grooming, blood for the blood gods attitude, grudges, breakfast, let him cook, new technology, Dragon, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Cervitaur, Hellcat, Shinigami, Gnoll,

~~~~~~~~

The pleasant electric purple sky swirled above you, rolling with fluffy clouds of shadows bathed in pastels. Green fireflies surrounding you as you lay back on a vast blanket in some forgotten field that faced the setting sun at a wonderful angle to view. Delicate glass flowers swayed, the surface of the glass moving organically as if they were fluid.

Around you countless colors gleamed in the gentle light and warm rays of the red sun set. A soft warm breeze skated across your skin despite the fading light and lowering temperature heralding the arrival of night. Stars dotted in the darkening sky and you noticed the various colors they all seemed to have. Beautiful poisonous purples, handsome prideful golds, rosey blood reds, pearly selfish whites, royal electric greens, intelligent underworld blues, cunning clueless maroons. They danced and moved above you the same way the fireflies leaped around and hummed.

You know better than to be alone.

What?

Where's Malleus?

He didn't seem to be lying with you, or any of the hoard for that matter. Actually, where was everyone? You were well and truly alone in a field. This isn't your home. None of this is familiar.

The stars faded away suddenly, one by one flickering out of sight as the light of the sun faded to darkness. The woods on the edge of the field seemed so much closer now, whispering and moving shadows among the trees with glowing eyes that stared.

Only the light of the fireflies remained, eyes glowing a reflective green in the dark. A snarling growl splits the air followed by a howl from behind you. All around there is barks and flashes of teeth in the dark.

They drew closer as the fireflies dimmed. Your heart seizing as the light seemed to keep them at bay.

'Wait!'

Your voice was soundless as you tried to call to the fireflies to stay, trying to scream but unable to.

'Come back!'

The lights dimmed further as the Wolves circled round and gnashed their teeth. The largest and more scar covered one lunged as the fireflies went out.

All you heard was Grim crying out your name.

~•§•~

Eyes snapped open as you startled awake, a familiar pair of green eyes observing as you awoke. Malleus was watching you with a worried gaze in the dark room, his thin brows drawn together in concern as you somewhat struggled upon waking. You had been sharing a blanket with the Dragon when you fell asleep, so naturally it was the Dragon who woke you.

"You're safe, my Child of Man. It was just a dream."

You didn't realize you were crying until he used his thumb to wipe away your tears. In your chest, your heart beat frantically as you tried to understand where you were and what happened. Slowly you realized that you were safe in the nest with Malleus by your side. Lilia sat awake and watched you with a concerned gaze, his eyes fixed on how disoriented you were.

"Just a dream."

As you calmed somewhat from your fear, you were still disoriented from your nightmare and another almost irrational concern overcame you.

"Why do you never call me by my name?"

"What?"

"My name. You never say my name. Why do you hate it?"

"I don't-"

"Then why?"

Malleus seemed caught off guard by your sudden sensitivity to his usual way of addressing you, trying to calm you once more. When you didn't calm down and only teared up again he worriedly pulled you close to him, laying his wing over you and holding you against his chest. His tail curled over your side and held you close to the Dragon.

"I apologize, my- (Y/n). I didn't know it upset you."

His dark lips pressed against your forehead and the Dragon held you in place against his chest, "I won't call you 'Child of Man' again. I will only call you by your name."

"So you don't hate my name?"

"No. I don't hate your name."

Though Malleus was vaguely concerned how upset you were over what- to him- was an irrational worry of yours, he was content to soothe you. Whatever you had been dreaming about clearly upset you to your core and it fueled your almost hazed perception from interrupted rest. The Dragon was a decent enough source of comfort to you and it helped pull you back into the realm of sleep.

As you lay in his arms and slowly calmed, your eyes started to close again as your heart soothed to a soft lull in your chest. Malleus used his own magic to pull you faster into the arms of pleasant dreams, but you still mumbled out your concerns to the bemused Dragon.

"You don't hate me, right?"

"I don't think I could ever hate you, (Y/n)."

"And you won't leave me to those Wolves?"

"What Wolves?"

"The ones in my sleep... The ones that chase me when the fireflies go out."

Malleus paused, vaguely upset that you had clearly been having nightmares. It hurt him to know the Poachers that attacked you stalked you in your sleep. He could remove them from life, but to remove them from your dreams would be harder. Luckily for you, Malleus was adept at manipulating dreams.

"I won't let them get you. I promise."

You hummed, mostly back into that in-between state of awareness, your mind slowly slipping off into slumber. A faint green light met your eyelids as you fully succumbed back into rest, dreams now of a far more peaceful nature. The great Dragon remained by your side, in your dreams and out of them as he marveled at the soft feel of your figure laying in his embrace.

His greatest treasure.

"Malleus."

"Yes, Lilia?"

"You asked why I wasn't displeased you chose a short lived creature as your desired mate. That is because she doesn't have to live such a short life if you are willing to extend it. So long as you protect her, she can live as long as you do, and never succumb to age."

"How?"

"Let me teach you a valuable lesson, as it had been taught to me by your grandmother. Only a dragon can truly perfect it, but it means neither of us have to live in worry of her age taking her away."

~•§•~

You woke again with the usual hoard among you, Malleus still holding his position next to you and your nightmare long forgotten. It seemed to you that he was being more protective than usual and you worried for your own peace. The Dragon's behavior towards you was much more stringent due to your injury and your repeated exacerbation of that injury. He was now ensuring you healed, going as far as insisting on accompanying you, Silver, and Ortho for the day to make certain you didn't stand without help.

Luckily, you weren't going to classes today because it was the day the various representatives and scientists arrived to evaluate your wellbeing. The threat of being taken from your established norm in this world of madness unsettled you. Honestly, you had worked hard to create a sense of normalcy quite quickly given the circumstances and still you had very little time to relax without threat. Maybe today would be a good test of the bonds you had made.

Truth was, you were angry and upset and just trying to survive in a world built against you. Cater was a damned idiot for revealing you were at NRC and you paid the price for his lack of awareness and discretion. Leona threatened you and you knew even then that you didn't stand a genuine chance if you lashed out. You held your anger in well but you wanted to yell and snap at the tactless men around you that invited themselves into your space.

Even with all that rage, the brush with the Poachers taught you something important. As it was right now, you didn't stand a chance on your own in this world of beasts. In the beginning it felt like the Dragon took you in far too quickly, the rest in the Hoard following suit. The more time you spend among them the more you began to realize everyone in this world acted this way. This was normal to them. The strongest chose who they wanted and the others just had to accept it.

If there was a chance you could escape this world, it would be where you fell into it in the first place. You couldn't tell any of the monster men, however. Knowing what could await the Humans back in your world if the monsters ever knew how to get to them, it was better to try and slip away without any of them knowing. You figured your way home was probably linked to the Hall of Mirrors. The Hall of Mirrors was only in Night Raven College, however. If you got taken away, you would never have the chance to return home.

Malleus swore to help you relax before you were to meet the monsters that no doubt wanted to study you like a lab-rat. If Idia was right, one of them wanted to kill you as well. Your only chance in this world was to ensure the monsters that were fond of you stayed fond of you. That didn't seem too difficult a task, but that meant you needed to ensure you kept your temper contained so that safety net did not abandon you. On top of your health and safety, there was the health and safety of Grim. He needed your protection and you needed the protection of the monster men.

At least you made considerably strong allies. Two of the strongest in the world were enamored by you- one seeming more parental in his affections than the other- their associated allies would follow suit. You could bargain for more personal space later, for now you simply needed to cement yourself in place and keep those representatives from trying to take you. By all means, you were fighting for your chance to return to your true home and the simple chance to live where you could mostly trust those around you.

As the sun rose, the warm scent of breakfast foods caught your attention. No doubt the only other one capable of cooking- Papa Hades- was already up and making a meal to feed the many who seemed to now permanently live in your dorm with you. It was a relief to not have to be the one cooking and you were fairly content with allowing the Shinigami to cook for you.

Grim had moved from his usual spot atop Silver's back and had managed to squeeze into your arms, cuddled close to you. Maybe he also had a bad dream and sought out comfort from the one he saw as a parent. It was odd to you to have more information about the Hellcat, yet no actual answers to the questions you still held onto. If anything, at least you knew what Grim was and you were willing to bring him with you if you ever found a way back to your home. There was no way you would leave the kit alone in such a dangerous world.

Lilia was next to rouse as he stretched his wings, limbs extended as he yawned and his pink tongue flashed across his bat-nose. When he saw you were awake as well, he smiled and crawled through the nest to your side. He was quick to flop down next to you and gently lay a wing over your body. There was something comforting about the loose affectionate hold as the Vampire Bat hummed contently.

"Morning, (Y/n)."

The Bat almost purred his greeting, clearly happy to have any interaction with you. You absently reached up a hand, petting the soft hair of the Bat as he smiled and cuddled closer. He leaned into your touch as if your petting was akin to a massage.

"Aww, grooming me back? That's so sweet of you, (Y/n)."

"What?"

"Keeheehee, nothing, (Y/n). Be careful who you pet, some may take it as grooming, some may take it as flirting."

You almost wanted to stop petting the Bat when he said this, wondering which way he took the gentle affection. Given the fact he told you and gave warning, you figured he was in the grooming category. Especially when you recalled that he was always keen to participate in communal grooming with the other Hoard members.

"Is petting a part of grooming to you?"

"Yes, most take petting as grooming, which is a very social behavior. It's a good way you can show others you care about them. Be careful though, Harpies can take preening as a sign of romantic intentions. Both Silver and Sebek are quite fond of it, as is Malleus. I, clearly, like it a lot."

"So, you're saying I should pet the others in the Hoard to show them I'm thankful for them?"

"It certainly wouldn't be amiss. I'm sure Malleus would appreciate it quite a bit, he is fond of you, after all."

You turned from Lilia to Malleus who was still in deep sleep next to you. It seems unwise to startle the Dragon, but a very persistent part of you encouraged and pushed you to reach your hand up to rest atop the Dragon's head. When he didn't immediately wake at your touch you slowly began to pet his silky black hair, a soft almost purring noise slowly coming from Malleus as he began to rouse. One green eye opened to observe you gently petting his hair and the slightest of smiles pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Good morning, my (Y/n). Hopefully your sleep was more pleasant this time around?"

"No more nightmares, at least."

"Good. Were you waiting long for me to wake?"

"No, I woke up a bit ago. I think Silver and Sebek are still asleep though."

Malleus glanced to the other side of the nest, where Silver slept atop a pile of pillows, Sebek leaning his back up against the Cervitaur. Grim woke to your soft voices, yawning and stretching out his little paws and wings with a light purr. Almost as soon as he opened his eyes, you could hear his stomach growling.

"Hooman, is it breakfast time yet?"

"Yes, I think it is. Smells like it is, at least."

This made the little Hellcat stand up quickly, his tail lashing in excitement as he pulled at your fingers to try and get you up as well. Your laugh in response to his behavior woke the other occupants of the nest. Silver seemed somewhat groggy, but got up quickly as did Sebek.

"Do you want to dress first, or eat breakfast first, (Y/n)?"

"I want to get dressed first, maybe I can wear some of those clothes Vil, Rook, and professor Divus made for me."

"Alright."

The Reindeer Cervitaur dismounted from the nest, standing with his back in line with the edge of the nest so you could crawl onto him. Before you could move and potentially stress your injury, a black tail wrapped around you and lifted you from the bed. Lilia had already hopped off and dug through the now full dressers for an outfit for you. You somewhat didn't know if you could trust what the Vampire Bat chose for you, but the simple pants and flowy shirt seemed decent enough.

The solitude of your bathroom was a nice change from the herd of monster men, but once you had taken care of your morning routine and dressed, Silver carried you downstairs. Naturally, the rest of the Hoard followed suit as you all went to the waiting kitchen.

You were somewhat surprised to see the kitchen had been upgraded as well, noticing a few new electronics you had asked Idia to put together for you. Where there had once been a shabby industrial kitchen, you now saw upgraded ovens, stove-tops, fridges and even a self revolving pantry. What interested you the most was what looked like a large deep-fryer that seemed to be able to clean itself and remove the thick unheated oil without needing to be touched. The things you could now make with that fryer called to you and you resolved to spend a day cooking fried comfort food when your leg healed.

Provided you could stay in Night Raven College.

"Good morning, Little One."

The large and old Shinigami greeted you with a gentle smile, setting the- clearly new- table with plates, bowls, cups, and silverware. He had already placed the large bowls of food in the center of the table. At the head was a large chair- suitable to his own large form- and one large chair at the right hand side where Idia already sat. To the left of the large chair was a chair much more suited to you. Attached to it with its own small table, seemed to be a high-chair for Grim.

Ruggie was already present and whooping excitedly, cackling as he hopped in place to see past Ortho who was trying to stop the Gnoll from immediately digging in. You smiled and Silver helped you dismount, pulling the chair out for you to settle down at the taller than normal table before putting Grim in the high-chair next to you. Idia noticed the way you examined the table and smiled almost shyly at you.

"Don't worry, the table can be automatically adjusted for height. Just press the side buttons at the head of the table to make it shorter or taller. Figured you should have an actual place to sit and eat instead of that little scrub table you had before. I got a few of those things you wanted made and all hooked up. They should work properly, but tell me if they don't so I can tweak them."

"Thank you, Idia. Honestly, I'm amazed you got them done so quickly."

"Why? My main spec is technomancy, after all."

"Just impressed, is all."

A faint pink seemed to take over Idia's flame hair as the gems on his cheeks also burned a light magenta. His smile became an almost drunk grin as he showed off those sharp teeth of his, clearly pleased by your light praise.

"Well, if that's impressive, just wait till you see the heated blanket I've been working on for you. That'll really knock your socks off."

"I'm looking forward to it!"

Ortho sighed and let Ruggie rush forward to the food as he took his seat next to Idia at the table, serving his own plate. The Hoard and Papa Hades also sat down at the table, Malleus making a clear show of sitting next to you and Grim. Everyone seemed content to eat and lightly chat together, you switching between eating your food and getting more food for Grim.

"He will likely need a lot of food to grow properly," Papa Hades started, observing you and Grim with a gentle smile, "he is still very young. I am happy to lend aid where it is needed, if you would allow it. Seeing as you have many who eat among you at any time, it would be best to keep the cupboards well stocked."

"Careful," you warned with a happy smile, "I might take you up on that offer and you'll wind up feeding all of Night Raven College. I mean, you'll certainly be feeding me, Grim, and Ruggie, but I know a few others who would happily dig in if offered."

"I wouldn't offer if I didn't expect several more mouths to feed. Worry not, my kin and I hold a good portion of the wealth of Twisted Wonderland. It is not too burdensome to feed the many young that live here."

You smiled at this and Ruggie barked his agreement, still shoveling food into his mouth. Grim was purring and pulled your hand to him so you could continue feeding him, effectively ending the conversation as you let the small beast feast.

When everyone had finished eating, Ortho and Idia started clearing the table, leaving you and the others present to talk about the events that would take place. It was stressful, but you knew the conversation needed to be had, especially if you were going to catch the representative who hired the poachers.

"You will meet them in a panel type setting around lunchtime, your guards, the professors, and Headmage Crowley will be there. I will keep my presence concealed until I am needed should there be any threats from the representatives or scientists. Young Idia suggests you pushback against any representative who attempts to pressure you into speaking to them alone or accepting their judgement. If this traitor is as temperamental as we believe, they will reveal themselves quickly with any aggression or denial from you. Are you comfortable handling this?"

"So I just have to be a petulant brat to anyone who tries to speak for me instead of to me?"

"That is the idea."

"I can do that, I think."

The large Shinigami nodded, but it was Malleus who spoke next. His voice a deep rumble in his chest as he turned to you with an almost worried gaze.

"(Y/n), I know you likely don't want to hear this, but you need to know. The representative in question will likely be killed once others learn what they have done to threaten you. Depending on where they live, they may be in violation of laws previously put in place to protect Humans."

Your frowned at this, but not for the reason they believed. If anything, you wanted something awful to happen to whoever it was that hired the poachers to kill you. The poachers stabbed you, attacked you and Grim, on top of threatening to kill the both of you. There was no love lost in your heart for the orchestrator of this violence against you and your kit.

"You seem to think I'm going to just forgive them after everything they've done?"

"Well, given how you forgave Cater-"

"I haven't forgiven Cater in the slightest. Just because I didn't want him to be thrown into the forest does not mean I forgave his short sighted actions. The circumstances with Cater are different. I fully believe Cater genuinely didn't know and is just stupid, not thinking about lasting consequences despite general logic speaking to the contrary. He is not forgiven, I just didn't want to see him hurt on my behalf. This poacher wannabe, however, is not someone I care to protect. No, I want this fucker's blood to stain the floor."

Malleus seemed surprised at your anger towards this mystery monster, but he didn't really blame you for your anger. If anything, the only two out of your tablemates who did not seem particularly shocked at your aggression and rage were Lilia and Papa Hades.

"This... seems out of character for you, (Y/n), are you sure you're feeling well?"

"I personally feel just fine. What I don't feel fine with is the fact that this butt-hurt waste of space knowingly dared to put Grim- My Boy- in direct danger to line their own pockets. That I can't forgive or forget. I'll even do it myself if you all refuse to. I don't care what their social standing is or how hard I have to try to kill them, target my boy and forfeit your life. I feel the same for any poachers who are looking to kill or otherwise use me for their own gain. Neither Grim nor I are pets, trophies, or playthings. Anyone who thinks we are needs a reality check."

It was then Lilia spoke up, setting down his flute of tomato-juice next to his plate. His voice was almost giddy in comparison to your own less than amused tone.

"Don't be so surprised, Malleus. I've told you and others before how Humans are about their young. Even the nicest Humans would be out for blood if you dare harm their young. Little Grimmy is (Y/n)'s boy, her kit, and I would expect her to hate anyone that threatens him."

The Bat almost seemed to exchange words silently with the Dragon after his statement, Malleus conceeding with a nod.

"Alright. But let one of us handle them, okay? I understand you are angry, but you have no weapons to your name and I am unsure you have any weapon training. If we need to kill them due to violence towards you, I would rather it be done quickly and without harm to you. Is that amenable?"

"Fine, but after this, one of you is teaching me how to wield a sword or a dagger."

[a-hazbin-reader]

HII I just wanted to say I simply adore your Alastor headcannons.. ❤️

I unsure if you’re accepting request but if you aren’t you can ignore this one 😅

I was thinking of a pining Alastor with a fem reader who never sings. Like she has always hated musicals, and ever since she’s been in hell she noticed it’s just one big musical. And the moment they finally actually open up and sing.. it’s not with Alastor. But probably Angel to make him feel better.. So he’s all jealous that the reader hasn’t sung with him.

And at the end they share a lil love duet and slow dance .. like, singing at last by Etta James..

I don’t know..I just love how you write Alastor. Your writing is absolutely phenomenal. 💕

I've been avoiding this one because it makes me think of Nix- 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a MENACE, Grumpy!Reader, Mentions of Drunk!Reader

Description: 👆⬆️

You don't sing, you're not the kind of person who's just going to break out into song like everyone else around you

You sang along to music, sometimes sure, or maybe even sang to yourself, but you didn't live life like you're in a musical

You had better things to do with your time than dancing around to mysterious music and making up words on the fly

It was something that annoyed Alastor because no matter how hard he tried to get you to join him in his little song and dance, you just walked away

And left him feeling ridiculous for even trying to make music with you

Good

Your serious demeanor and closed off nature only served to make him want to win you over even more

He doesn't like people being a mystery to him, he wants to know what you're thinking and how you're feeling all the time

For the sake of knowledge, of course, not out of any romantic desire or anything as ridiculous as that

After several failed attempts to get you to sing, Alastor just assumes you've got a bad singing voice and gives up

Only to be PISSED when he's proven wrong because WHY WON'T YOU SING WITH HIM

He finds you holding Angel to your chest and singing to him, the poor spider holding back tears as he relaxes into your arms

Alastor just hides and listens to the sound of your voice more confused than ever as to why you don't sing

You have a BEAUTIFUL VOICE

It reignites his desire to get you to sing with him and he becomes more of a pest than ever for you

He tries to trick you into humming or singing, turning on the radio when you two are alone in hopes that you'll take a liking to a song

"Do you have a particular music preference, my dear?"

"Can't say I do, whatever you pick is fine."

You only roll your eyes and continue looking at your book, the only sign that you like the music is your leg bouncing to the beat

He later catches you humming a little tune with Niffty as the two of you clean up together, the happy look on your face is the most precious thing he's seen

Alastor tries to invite you out to a concert/musical, waving two tickets in front of your face

"What do you say, my dear~? You and I listening to the most wonderful music in hell together?"

Only to watch your face scrunch up at the idea and realize that he's about to be rejected

"That's not really my thing, maybe you can get Charlie to go with you."

He ends up giving the tickets to Charlie and Vaggie, letting the two of them have a date night

You're smiling and singing a little song with Husk later that night, cooking a late night dish with him

He sulks the entire night and glares at you whenever your paths cross because HOW DARE YOU

WITH HUSKER!?

He even tries taking everyone to a karaoke bar and pulling you up on stage, hoping you're drunk enough that you'll sing

Only to be the victim of your drunken rage and get body slammed into a table instead because he startled you

"Alastor!! Are you okay!? Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I will pay for the table!"

Charlie is panicking because everyone is STARING, but you just glare down at him, cheeks flushed from the booze

"Don't... sneak up on me like that..."

He'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little, laying there still in shock over what happened

"Understood."

Later, he hears you singing along to a song someone else is singing to. You're so drunk by that point that he doubts you even realize you're doing it

But you still sound so good even when your words are slurred and you're not even singing the right song

It gets to the point where Alastor's mood sours whenever you sing because he wants to sing with you but you always turn him down

You're trying to open up more but it's difficult to open up to someone like Alastor because it's impossible to know if he can be trusted

Your better judgment tells you no, but your heart whispers that you should give him a chance

Alastor just wants a duet with you so badly

You two would kill it, and he knows it

He's playing at the piano one day, singing to himself for entertainment more than anything

It's a song from his childhood, bringing up memories of happier times with his mother

When you suddenly saddle up next to him and begin to play as well, adding another layer to his song

His tail wagging and the way his eyes light up are the only indication he gives that he's excited by your presence

He keeps singing, feeling renewed by your musical accompaniment and really enjoying the music

Only to be graced with the sound of your own voice joining him, your hands briefly crossing over each others to play the right notes

The simple graze is electric for both of you, but neither would admit for years to come

He was right, you two sound better than anything he's ever heard before and he can't help but look at you because surely you feel it too??

Only to be flustered by the blush on your face and the small smile you give him, obviously pushed beyond your comfort zone but trying hard

It's all he can do to swallow the lump in his throat and focus on the song instead of how good you look or how beautiful you sound

Only when the song is over do you two realize how close your faces have gotten, gazing into each other's eyes like lovesick teenagers

You both are leaning in closer, gazes drifting down to lips-

When Alastor suddenly jerks away and walks across the room from you, his face burning from the realization of what almost happened

You deflate a bit and worry that you read him wrong, standing up so you can leave with your pride still intact

"Alastor, I'm so-"

Suddenly, the radio comes to life, Alastor picking a station with a slow romantic song playing before holding his hand out to you

"Care to dance, my dear? It'd be a shame to let such a good song go to waste..!"

You're both blushing and avoiding looking each other in the eye but you take his hand anyways, being pulled flush against him

If anyone were to peek in and see you two, it would certainly look like you two were a couple dancing to a romantic song and having a moment

Alastor has one hand on your hip while the other gently holds your hand, your head resting against him in an attempt to hide how embarrassed you are

His ears are folded back, and the smile on his face is wobbly and awkward, your other hand on his shoulder suddenly seemingly very interesting

Good thing nobody is peeking in on you two, except everyone is peeking in and passing around cash

"Pay up Angel, Husk, Charlie won fair and square."

I hope you guys like it 💓

[grimm-writings]

HI ITS BARD ANON I MISSED YOU!!! insane request but what about a situation where the party + kabru + chil’s family orchestrate a date between chil and reader? like setting them up… i think that’d be so cuteeee

for the dancing and the dreaming

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, post-canon spoilers, chilchuck’s wife remains nameless, i love chilchuck's family can you tell

…wc! 1887

…notes! BARD ANON I’M BACK FROM WAR (burnout) !!!! these two requests are similar so i decided to make ‘em a wombo combo!!! enjoy my loves!

The woman gives you a kindly smile as she waves you off, you and her ex leaving the tavern.  She sighs and leans back, crossing her arms.

God, Chilchuck is more stupid than she remembered.

How could he possibly miss the affection in your eyes when he called out to you both before you left?  Or how you clearly wanted to ask if you can stay with him longer?  He’s just going to ignore that and consider it all platonic?

What an idiot.  Do I really have to step in for him again?  Just like old times, huh…?

The half-foot taps a finger against her cheek in thought.  Maybe she can push you to confess?  No, you’d probably wave your hands around and insist against having feelings for Chilchuck in the first place.  A heavy sigh escapes her.

Looks like she has to do things the old-fashioned way.

Step 1 – Family

The quickest way to alert someone is to see who the people closest to you know.  Flertom is rather in-the-know about any gossip.  Usually, as a mother, the half-foot really doesn’t want to encourage such things, but for now…

“What’s trendy in dating circles nowadays?”  She asks offhandedly, eyeing a bouquet Flertom bought to gift a possible suitor.  “Is the man still expected to be the one to initiate everything?”

She could nearly scoff at her own words.  Only reason she and Chil got together was pure happenstance.  Practically a blur by now.  He’d be hopeless at actually trying to start anything with you.

The younger woman hums in curiosity, before stopping to think.  “Not really nowadays, no…  If you have enough charisma, you can charm any man into taking you out for a drink.  Why do you ask, Ma?”

Flertom squints as she watches her mother laugh and shake her head in response.  “Oh, I just think your old man might need some… encouragement with a new flame is all.”

Just as she expected, Flertom was immediately on the ball with planning, rushing out to the town in order to visit her sisters and inform them of the operation.  She practically commanded her old mother to see if she could look for any clues about Chilchuck’s possible beau.  With a knowing smile, she remarks that she’s very happy to pay a visit to Melini.

Step 2 – Friends

“You really think something that elaborate could work?!”  Marcille Donato leans forward in her chair.  Her eyes shine with a certain kind of joy at the idea of playing Cupid that amuses the matured half-foot significantly.

She nods.  “I don’t see anything else coming close to pushing them.  Force might be the only way.”

A female tall-man, Falin if recalled correctly, squints and hums, tapping her finger on her chin as she tilts her head.  Her brow furrows.  “From what I know, Chilchuck seems to be more open, but… I don’t know if he has the courage to be truly vulnerable in front of someone like that.”

“No need to tell me twice,” his ex scoffs.

“Oh!”  The king, of all people, seems to have an epiphany.  “We could hold some sort of ball, encourage him to invite a plus one.  That can work, right Kabru?”

All eyes turn to look at the advisor standing to the side, clearly enjoying the conversation but not wishing to intrude.  He startles at the sudden attention, before clearing his throat behind his fist.

“It will take some time to plan, but it could work…  You mentioned having three daughters, ma’am, you can take one as a plus-one, and the two will take each other.”  He’s calm with his conclusion, which the half-foot woman can definitely respect.

“A banquet of all their favourite foods,” the dwarf Senshi, as food-brained as ever, sighs in daydream.

Kabru takes a step forward.  “Though I have to ask,” he enquires, “is it really necessary to call upon all of the king’s advisors and himself for a Cupid scheme?”

Silly boy.  He doesn’t yet realise the stakes.

If Chilchuck and you don’t say something soon, then you may stay silent forever.  This idea might be the best shot they have.

Step 3 – The Preparation

“What’s even the occasion…?”  Chilchuck sighs as he adjusts the sleeves of the formal outfit he’s wearing.  He’s definitely unused to something so high-class.  Being invited as a guest of honour certainly isn’t doing any favours either.

Not to mention, Laios was stupid enough to not even bestow upon you a guest of honour title!  Chilchuck has to go through the means of inviting you as a plus one due to some ‘organisational issues’, as Kabru put it.

What a load of crap.

“I ‘unno!”  Puckpatti peeks her head around the corner to look at her father.  “Royals just seem to like their balls!”

“This isn’t one of your period romances…” Meijack’s voice rings from the other room too.

You sit with them, talking amongst one another.  Flertom’s plus one remains a mystery to you, though she assures you that you’ll meet with her when you get there.  You can only assume it’s the girls’ mother but you have no clue why she’s so giggly and secretive about it.

“On the contrary!” Flertom announces.  “I think it’s exactly like a period romance.  Maybe one of us will be swept into a dance so beguiling, you forget there’s a whole ballroom of people!”

You squeal in surprise when Flertom takes your hands and pulls you out of your chair.  You dance together in a fit of giggles.  You only barely miss Chilchuck walking out to meet with you all, a fond smile on his face.

Little do you know, he’s thinking about what it would be like if joy like this could be shared in a household with the two of you.

“Come on now, settle.  Apparently there’s gonna be a carriage taking us to Melini.  I couldn’t fight against the theatrics, according to Marcille…”

“Oh Papa!”  Puckpatti sighs blissfully.  “We truly are living like nobles now!  Maybe you can… ah…”

Both you and Chilchuck spy her eyes darting towards her sisters with unsureness.  How strange.

“You can find… someone nice there!”

“No, Patti.”  Chilchuck shakes his head with a sigh.  “I’m not gonna marry some rich dwarf.”

“You are too cruel, Papa,” Flertom points out with a pout.  “No one will want you if you just keep saying no.”

As the three bicker, Meijack spares you a sympathetic glance, and she rolls her eyes.  Her sisters hardly know subtlety.  Finally she stands up and walks to your side.

“I’m glad you’re here with us,” she says with uncharacteristic softness; she’s similar to her father like that.  “Papa has good taste.”

You go red just as much as Chilchuck.  For a moment, Flertom and Puckpatti wonder if their less romance-focused sister has some secret charisma she’s been hiding up her sleeve this whole time.  It seems to work though, as they chorus their agreements loudly.

“Very good taste!”

“Their formal wear matches yours fashionably well!”

“Just as pretty as Ma too!”

“If not prettier!”

The entire carriage ride to Melini was full of this type of chatter, asking questions about you and Chilchuck’s time together the whole way.  A few times you had to clarify that you are only as close as the rest of your old party were close, but were only met with a few smug “mhms” and “sures”.

Chilchuck can only roll his eyes when he gets the chance to comment on it privately with you.  “I have no idea what’s up with them.”

“Oh, cheer up!”  You laugh softly.  “I’m flattered that they like me.”

Chilchuck can’t help but hear your laugh and chuckle along – music to his ears.  “...Yeah, I’m glad they like you too.”

“Come on!  Ma is here to greet you two!”  Flertom’s voice calls out.

The mastermind has been watching you and Chilchuck the whole time you approach.  Her expression remains neutral, with the smallest sliver of a smile.  Seems like the proximity has been lending itself quite well.

“Well, aren’t you two a pair,” she greets you both.  “Ready to take the ball by storm.”

“Your jokes haven’t gotten any better,” Chilchuck replies.

“And you’re still wearing the same shabby suit from sixteen years ago.”

Chilchuck flushes red once again and you can’t help but laugh, patting his shoulder sympathetically as he hooks his arm through yours.

The watching half-foot knowingly grins.  Yes, you two are definitely going to take it up a level after tonight.

Step 4 – Profit!

The ball came and went.  It goes as typical as the dark-haired half-foot expects.  What really is supposed to be a high-class noble event is a mask for foodies, romantics, and those looking for a fun time.

Senshi’s food was as wonderful as promised, and even if this was all done in the name of romance, Flertom and Puckpatti had to be held down from trying to approach the dwarf with lowered eyelids and twirled hair.  Chilchuck doesn’t need more heart palpitations than he already did.

She did her best to encourage Chilchuck to drink.  She knows better than anyone that his tongue only loosened when he got enough alcohol in him.  It hurts just a little, knowing that this is one of the only ways Chilchuck can be open with someone romantically.

The temptation did cross her to ask how Chilchuck views her now, but she stood against it.  It’s not the night for that.

By the time the party drew to a close, people were exhausted, drunk, in a food coma, or all of the above.  The King had to be dragged over to his quarters, and Marcille had since passed out on Falin’s shoulder, who’s bidding farewell to guests.

The dark-haired half-foot swirls the last of her wine in a glass as she stands outside, making small-talk with the tall-man.  It’s not until you stumble out with Chilchuck clinging to the fabric on your hip that she looks up.

“Do you—”

“No need for help!”  You reassure her with a grin.  “He always seems to get clingy with me when drunk, so I’m kinda used to it at this point!”

Your laughter meets a knowing smile, not knowing exactly what she’s so smug about.  “Yes, he seems to really like you.”

“I sure hope he does, considering he’s accepted my request to go on a date with him.”

Falin perks up enough to wake up the elf on her shoulder.  “A date?”

The half-foot across from you is stunned into silence.  It actually worked.  The atmosphere and passion of it all actually egged you both on!

“Congratulations.”  You’ve seen more emotion from the dark-haired woman than ever before.  Her smile relaxed but her eyes shining, the lines underneath crinkling with happiness.  “Treat him well, okay?”

“Of course,” you reply, and you lean forward a little.  “Thank you for your help.  Kabru couldn’t help but gossip to me.”

You wink and lean up again.  Chilchuck at your side whines for your attention and you laugh, walking towards a carriage.

Safe travels were promised, and the dark-haired half-foot turns to the two blonde women.

The elf blinks slowly, red-faced from drink.

“Did we win…?”

The two other women laugh.  Stories must be exchanged the next time you all meet – especially on your end of things.

[asce-of-hearts]

Okay yandere robin HSR, like she was In her lowest after Sunday case and now he was with astral express, robin get scared that the reader will leave her alone too so she do anything to keep the reader even to extreme way (sorry bad English) okay how about just those manhwa? A tree without roots, I thought it would fit for robifly tho (robin x firefly) but firefly is the top

Anything at all

Contents: Yandere!Robin drabble (gn!reader)

more Robin content here

TAG LIST

A/N: Haven't read that manwha but I definitely think that Firefly tops in the relationship between the two of them, in general I think Robin is very much a pillow princess lol

WARNINGS: SOFT YANDERE, DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, ROBIN BEING IN LOVE WITH READER BUT READER NOT KNOWING.

Loneliness leaves you with the time to do a lot of things.

Practice singing, read books you never got around reading, and also, think. You're left with a lot of time to think about everything that happens and has happened.

And that is making Robin feel like she's being eaten from the inside out.

There's people who care about her, sure. You, for example. and her brother, who is currently imprisoned, or dead. She tries not to let her thoughts wander too much to that dark place. Think positive thoughts, sing positive songs. Anything really, as long as it takes her mind off the fact that her brother could be dead, and if she isn't careful, you could die anytime as well.

She hates herself for being so paranoid, for being such a loser at times. The thought of never being able to talk to you, to feel your warmth when you hug, to never hear your voice or laughter again makes her feel like she will go insane at any moment. She stares at the thousand pictures you and her have together, her mind wandering to places it shouldn't. Between your face and body, sometimes the way your hands wrap around her waist. She sighs, lovingly, defeated, smitten.

She desires nothing more than to be close to you all the time, so close you can no longer tell where she ends and you begin. Even worse, she wants to trap you, cage you like a bird. Keep you cradled between her delicate hands in such a way you'll never be able to escape, she tries, she's trying to not succumb to that. To not succumb to the thought of tying you up and leaving you to rot in her room just so you won't escape, of building a cage with the money she has spare so she can trap you there, make you dance to her singing. Or a thought she doesn't like so much, she hates it to the point she has to bury her head in the pillows whenever it comes to her. The thought of actually killing you, of using her own two hands to take your life away from you. Imprisoning and killing, there's Sunday in her mind again. What a joke.

A knock to your door in the middle of the night startles you. You open it enough to peek at the delicate, petite silhouette standing behind it.

"Robin!" You say, surprised as you let her in. "Can I... help you? Is something wrong?"

She shakes her head, forcing herself to put on the most genuine smile she can.

"No, it's nothing. Just... just had a feeling something was going to happen to you, and came to check." You smile at her as well, and shake your head.

"Nothing wrong with me," You answer, and sit over the bed and invite her there with you. "But if it eases your mind, you can stay here with me. That's what friends are for, right?"

"Yes, of course," Her eyes darken as she lays down next to you, closing her eyes as you let her wrap her arms around you, and you do the same. Tangled like rope, a mess of limbs and body heat. "Friends..." She murmurs. "How much are you willing to do for a friend?"

You hum as you think, staring at the wall as you think about it. The smell of her hair, strangely floral, easing you.

"Well, depends on the friend," Its a simple answer, one that makes her feel uneasy. "For you for example... a lot of things. Because you're important to me." You smile, and she does as well. Her hands come to cradle your face.

"I would do a lot of things for you too, ___," She whispers, a dark glint in her eyes. "I would do anything to make sure you're safe and happy. To make sure we're together forever."

"Anything at all, ___."

i should do a more in depth character analysis for Robin as a yandere i actually think shes a very interesting character.

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great day night!!!

COMISSIONS INFO

TAGGING: @eeelieschariot @exactlyzealouslady

Want to know when I release another fic? Join the TAG LIST

[hp-hcs]

• smut • was held in chains, but now i’m free — comphet! mattheo riddle x openly bi! harry potter

compulsory heterosexuality, often shortened to “comphet”, refers to the societal pressure to conform to heterosexual norms and behaviors, even if someone does not identify as heterosexual.

notes: after the war, 8th year, both characters are 18. mattheo refers to himself as a pureblood since voldy moldy never told him or anyone else that he was a halfblood. the song is “O Children” by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds; it’s the song harry and hermione dance to in deathly hallows pt 1.

warnings: smut mdni, internalized homophobia, brief mentions of pureblood politics being homophobic, bottom mattheo, unprotected sex, the author is asexual

MDNI: 18+ smut ahead. i am not responsible for your internet consumption.

ATTENTION: The Gryffindor Quidditch locker room is closed. Please use the Slytherin locker room until further notice. We apologize for any inconvenience.

—————

How smug Potter is, Mattheo thought bitterly to himself as he scrubbed the rest of his shampoo out of his hair. He gets to prance his naked arse around our locker room right now.

Mattheo shook his head under the heavy spray of the locker room shower-head, as if to clear the lingering thoughts of Harry Potter’s naked arse from his mind.

A couple of second years had stunk up the Gryffindor locker room with their game of gobstones, forcing the teachers to have to consolidate both Slytherin and Gryffindor players to the Slytherin locker room.

As Mattheo turned off his shower, only one other remained running. Harry Potter, a few shower stalls over. With Mattheo’s own shower off, the room had become somewhat quieter, making it easier for him to hear that Potter had begun humming. At some point, this soon turned into quiet singing that echoed throughout the room.

Hey, little train, wait for me

I once was blind, but now I see

But have you left a seat for me?

Is that such a stretch of the imagination?

Annoyed, Mattheo yanked on his jeans, trying to force himself to think of anything other than how surprisingly beautiful and haunting Potter’s voice was.

Hey, little train, wait for me

Was held in chains, but now I’m free

I’m hangin’ in there, don’t you see?

In this process of elimination

Mattheo’s skin prickled.

Was held in chains, but now I’m free.

Not only was that a spot-on metaphor for Potter being freed from his whole “chosen martyr” thing, but in a way, it was also a good metaphor for him gaining his own freedom from his pureblood family and their ideology after his wretched mother and bastard father’s well-deserved deaths.

Hey little train, we’re all jumping on

The train that goes to the Kingdom

We’re happy, Ma, we’re havin’ fun

Beyond my wildest expectations

Mattheo’s skin prickled again, and he grew even more uncomfortable. Was the locker room always this hot? Why was his shirt sticking to his skin so much more than usual?

“Be quiet, Potter!” Mattheo finally snapped, his voice echoing in the otherwise empty locker room.

There was a startled yelp.

“Petrificus Totalis!”

Mattheo fell like a rock.

Potter stumbled out of his shower stall and was fumbling with his glasses, which had fogged up from the steam of the showers and were sitting crooked from him hastily shoving them on. He hovered uncertainly over Mattheo’s prone form, his wand practically sliding out of his grasp from how wet his naked body was from the shower Mattheo had oh-so-kindly interrupted.

Oh, Merlin— Potter’s naked, Mattheo mentally panicked. And he’s hung.

A niggling bit of his brain wondered what it would taste like.

“Stop staring at my dick, Riddle,” Potter snapped as he released the spell’s hold on Mattheo, his cheeks burning bright red under those stupidly oversized glasses. “Why are you still in here?”

For the first time, Mattheo actually bothered to look at Potter. His eyes traced the famous scar that marred the Chosen One’s forehead, then dipped down to his angular jaw, then to Potter’s well-toned torso and arms, sparing another darting glance at his cock before his eyes flicked back up to meet Potter’s. Green, like his mother’s supposedly were. Although, to Mattheo, they more closely resembled the color of the Killing Curse.

“Can I blow you?” Mattheo blurted.

They both stared at each other in awkward silence for a moment.

“I— uh, sure.” Potter looked baffled and beyond confused, but his dick visibly twitched in interest.

They continued staring at each other silently for a moment longer before Mattheo scrambled across the floor to wrap his hand around Potter’s cock.

Bewildered by this turn of events, Potter leaned back against the row of lockers and hesitantly combed his fingers through Mattheo’s dark curls, marveling at how soft his hair was.

Mattheo trepidatiously leaned forward, his tongue darting out to lap at the pre-cum beading at the tip.

Potter gently guided Mattheo’s mouth onto his cock. “That’s it. Go slow.”

Mattheo was timid and hesitant until he got the hang of things.

Harry let out a yelp as Mattheo, without warning, swallowed him down to the root. The boy seemed to have no gag reflex whatsoever.

“Shit— why didn’t we do this sooner?” Harry babbled, petting the other boy’s curls in a daze. “So fuckin’ pretty. Fuck.”

He reached down after an agonizing minute of pure pleasure to tug Mattheo up to his feet. “Please— please, can I fuck you?”

“What?”

Harry hooked his fingers around Mattheo’s belt buckle, tugging the other man forward. “I asked if I could fuck you.”

“I’m the son of the Dark Lord, Potter,” Mattheo spluttered, stumbling forward a step until he was standing between Harry’s lazily spread thighs, hyperaware of Harry’s current hand placement. “My father tried to kill you a billion times. Aren’t you afraid of me?”

“You just had my dick in your mouth like three minutes ago, so not really, no.”

Mattheo scoffed, although his cheeks had significantly reddened. “You’re an idiot.”

“Takes one to know one, Riddle.”

“Don’t call me that, Potter.”

“When you stop calling me Potter, I’ll stop calling you Riddle, Riddle.” Harry grinned cheekily, giving Mattheo’s ass a light tap as his hands moved to grip the boy’s hips.

Mattheo let out an honest-to-Merlin whimper and clumsily smashed his mouth against Potter’s.

Harry responded in kind, kissing him back desperately, as though trying to consume him. His fingers frantically unbuttoned Mattheo’s uniform shirt, shoving it off his broad shoulders.

Freshly revealed by the shirt hitting the floor was the faded-gray Dark Mark. Mattheo squirmed slightly when Potter’s eyes scrutinized it. And when Harry lightly trailed his fingers over the faint twisting snake, Mattheo sucked his teeth as a mild shudder wracked through his body.

“It’s a little sensitive,” he said shortly by way of explanation.

Potter just leaned in to press a kiss to Mattheo’s wrist and moved on, unbuckling his belt. Mattheo’s cheeks turned an even darker shade of red.

“Where’re we going to—?”

“My shower’s still running,” Potter offered. Sure enough, Mattheo could hear the pitter-patter of water across the room. He hadn’t noticed it earlier.

Mattheo impatiently smacked Harry’s hands away when he reached for his boxers, wriggling out of them himself and all but dragging Harry across the room to the shower stall.

Harry offered Mattheo his hand to help him into the shower, casting an anti-slip spell on the both of them. The water—charmed to never run cold—washed over Mattheo delightfully. He combed his sopping wet curls out of his face the second they began to obscure his vision, reveling in the delicious sight of rivulets of water running over Potter’s angular body.

“How do you want me to do this?” Potter asked gently, grabbing Mattheo’s hip and pulling their bodies together. Mattheo gasped as his cock nudged Harry’s, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve never done this before. With a man, I mean.”

“So I’m your gay awakening?” Harry teased lightheartedly.

Mattheo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re the incredibly sexy Bi Who Lived, we get it.”

Harry laughed, a deep sound that made Mattheo’s toes tingle. Harry leaned forward to kiss Mattheo quickly, before gently manhandling him to face the wall with his hands legs spread, hands flat against the Slytherin-green tiles.

Potter then cast a wordless spell, sending an unfamiliar and not all that pleasant sensation through Mattheo’s arse.

“Lube,” Harry explained shortly, hands more occupied with running over Mattheo’s sides and back, feeling up the muscle. “You ready?”

“Go slow,” Mattheo mumbled, resting his cheek against the tiled wall for support. Did Potter really have to choose such a vulnerable position?

Something large and blunt rested against his ass; the head of Harry’s cock. A low noise escaped Mattheo’s throat as Potter began slowly pressing in.

It didn’t hurt, the way it would’ve if they’d used the primitive Muggle ways of lubrication, but it also didn’t feel…good. Meh, at best. Hardly worth sacrificing his name and pureblood status over. Even as Potter sunk himself in all the way to the root, it just didn’t feel all that special, to be honest. Mattheo was a little surprised. Wasn’t hedonism supposed to be lasciviously pleasurable?

But then Potter started to move.

Mattheo’s eyes rolled back in his head.

With every thrust, Potter hit something deep inside of him that had his toes curling, body singing, mouth babbling for more more more.

“That’s it,” Harry grunted, his breathing getting heavier as he picked up the pace, wrapping a hand around Mattheo’s cock to jerk him off in time to his thrusts. “Good boy, fuck—”

“Potter— Potter—” Mattheo keened, fingers scrabbling against the green tiled wall of the shower stall. He’d never felt anything so good in his entire life.

“Shit— so tight— so good—”

Mattheo was in ecstasy, on a whole new plane. Every relentless thrust, every kiss, every touch made him wonder, Why did I ever waste my time with women?

“Potter—” he babbled, “I’m gonna cum— Potter—”

“Nuh uh.” Harry yanked his hand off of Mattheo’s dick. “That’s not my name. Say my name.”

“Harry!”

Harry wrapped his right hand back around Mattheo’s dick, resuming his prior pace, and wrapped the other hand around Mattheo’s left arm, purposely pressing his fingers into the ugly Dark Mark.

Mattheo shrieked at the sudden onslaught of sensations. The relentless pleasure of sex paired with the stinging-burning-aching of his Dark Mark made him cum instantly, splattering the tiles with the evidence of his pleasure. Harry followed seconds later, draping his body over Mattheo’s back to catch his breath.

“You okay, Matty?”

Matty.

“Y-yeah,” Mattheo stuttered. Mentally, he was panicking. What if someone found out he had not only sucked a man off, but had let said man fuck him? He’d be ruined.

“You sure, hon?”

Oh, Merlin— hon.

Mattheo breathed in deeply. He could smell the lavender soap Harry had used. It was… calming.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” Harry echoed skeptically, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Mattheo’s neck as he pulled out. “Fancy a private tour of the Gryffindor dorms? No funny business, I just— would like to— uh… to-”

“Yes,” Mattheo interrupted. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Harry hummed and picked up his forgotten bar of soap, lathering his hands up before reaching out to wash Mattheo’s body.

“You could just use Scourgify, you know,” Mattheo pointed out.

“I could, yeah.” Harry reached for his favorite bottle of shampoo and began working the soap into Mattheo’s curls.

Instead of questioning his actions further, Mattheo just relaxed against the wall and allowed himself to be pampered. This was nice. This was okay. This was not a sin.

And just for a single tender moment, for the first time since the war ended, Mattheo truly felt free.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

this author is solely fueled by comments and reposts tbh please be nice

[gotta-winwin]

crossing your orbit

⭐ starring: minghao (the8) feat. vernon & jun

🌙 preview: year after year, minghao’s dreams remain the same. floating aimlessly through the starry night sky, he orbits around a girl he cannot place a name to. his fingers, nails painted black and adorned with silver stars, moved swiftly across the keyboard. He was searching for answers. what does it mean when you have recurring dreams about the same person? what does it mean when that person you dream of is a stranger? what does it mean to wake up floating in a galaxy? 

The internet whirred and came back with no solid answer. 

tw/cw: starcrossed lovers, playing around with fate, soulmates, hints of mcd, angst, longing, deja vu, abstract storytelling

☁️ masterlist & a/n: hellooo! dropping a minghao fic inspired by both the mvs for orbit and hai cheng.

(⭐)

It was December yet again and Minghao was still dreaming of her. 

She was someone nameless, someone that haunted his dreams each night without fail, so close yet always just out of reach. It both excited him and filled him with rage. 

“Who are you?” He’d ask each time they met, reaching out to touch her face. 

She’d always take a step back before he could reach her. 

“Who are you?” 

It was the only question she refused to ever answer. 

The nameless girl came to him surrounded by stars, spanning further than his eyes could see, as they both floated aimlessly through what looked to be a long forgotten galaxy. The first time he had awoken there, his arms and legs had flailed for solid ground. She had giggled at the sight of him panicking, a soft, tinkling sound that had graced his eardrums and settled into his mind. Her laugh was the only thing that followed him out of the dream and back into reality. He’d find himself twisting around to locate the sound, startling his bandmates in the middle of practice. It probably looked to them like he had lost his mind. Minghao was beginning to think he had.

She was sitting in the center, legs crossed with an expectant smile on her face, as if she had known he’d be there. He wondered faintly if she even existed outside of his mind. 

“I feel like I know you.” 

She hummed at his comment, flipping gracefully through the air further away from him.

“Do I?” He persisted, flapping his arms clumsily to chase after her.

It frustrated him how little she spoke each time they met. It was always like this, the girl dancing circles around him, spinning gracefully through the air as if it were only water. And Minghao would follow, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated for the first time in his life. He prided himself to be a dancer - yet here he was, floating uselessly as he watched her move like the current. 

It pained him that he could never reach her.

(⭐⭐)

It was December yet again and Minghao was still dreaming of her. 

It had snowed for the first time last night, as he stayed up late, his face illuminated by the light of his computer. A snoring Vernon accompanied him, the only sound he could hear through his intense concentration. 

His fingers, nails painted black and adorned with silver stars, moved swiftly across the keyboard. He was searching for answers.

What does it mean when you have recurring dreams about the same person? 

What does it mean when that person you dream of is a stranger?

What does it mean to wake up floating in a galaxy? 

The internet whirred and came back with no solid answer. 

(⭐⭐⭐)

“Who are you?”

He was back again, floating belly up, drifting through the darkness illuminated only by the flecks of starlight. 

She circled him, her hair floating around her face, framing it like a halo. Her white dress flowed and tickled his sides as she swam around him. 

“You know who I am.” 

He sat up, not having expected her to actually answer. Her voice was melodic, calm and distorted, as if she was speaking through a recording.

“I don’t. I don’t know who you are. Tell me, please. What is your name?” 

She merely gave him a melancholic twinge of a smile. “You know who I am, Hao. Or at least, you did.” 

There was something about the way she said his name that made him shiver. It sounded so foreign, yet… it brought back a reminiscent flavour he couldn’t quite place his finger on. 

“Why do you think we’re always floating in space, Hao?” 

He frowned. “Isn’t this where you live?” He had always assumed she had brought him here, transported his mind to find her everytime he drifted to sleep. 

She laughed, and the sound warmed his insides. He found himself selfishly wishing to never awaken, if it meant he could hear it again. “Quite the opposite, actually. You live here.” 

His confusion must have been evident on his face, for she swam a bit closer, her hair brushing his shoulder. She smelled distinctly of the beach. 

“Your mind lives here, Hao. And because you are here, I am here as well.” Her lips twitched, as if something about it had amused her. “I wasn’t always this good at navigating with no gravity.” She told him, and it surprised him to hear. “I was like a fish out of water the first few days.” 

She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a speck of light, one of thousands surrounding them. It hit Minghao that this was the first time she’d let them touch - her hand sending shockwaves up his arm and down his spine. He grasped her hand tightly as she swam them both over, afraid she might let go and be out of reach once again. 

“Look.” 

He followed her finger, his gaze landing on the spot she pointed to. 

“You sleep like a dead man.” She tilted her head up to look at him, eyes twinkling. “And your roommate snores like an engine.” 

Minghao stared, wide eyed at himself, sleeping peacefully in bed, his hair tousled and his arm hanging off the frame. 

“How is that possible?” He whispered, reaching a tentative hand down to touch. A pool of silver water deflected his fingertips, and the image of himself sleeping evaporated into the starry sky around them. 

“Let me show you.” 

Her hands left his, and Minghao frantically tried to grab them, terrified she’d abandon him again. 

Again. There was something strange about that sentence. Abandon him. Again.

“Let me show you.” 

Her hands returned to touch him, her fingertips grazing over his temples, pushing back his blonde and black hair.

(⭐⭐⭐⭐)

The first thing he felt was sand against his bare feet, the heat a startling contrast from the winter snow. 

He spun around, searching for the girl. She was gone. 

Staring out into the open and vast ocean, he had the unsettling feeling that he’d been here before. Racking his brain, he tried pulling out memories of this place. The mountains in the distance, the blue-green of the water, the cascading waves, the golden brown sand beneath him.

“Xu Minghao!”

He turned, and arms wrapped around his waist. 

“I told you not to call me that.” The words felt foreign in his mouth and so did the teasing tone. He couldn’t remember what prompted them. 

She looked up and he could feel his heart putter to a stop. 

“It’s you.” She was back. But she looked different - younger, her hair short and wearing a thick jacket with a scarf around her neck. He looked down and realized he wore the same thing - his pajamas long forgotten. They looked so ordinarily normal. 

Her nose scrunched, a dazzling smile across her face as she looked at him, eyes full of everlasting love. “Of course it’s me, Hao. Who else would hug you so brazenly?” 

Who are you? 

“Why do you look so sad?” She questioned, pulling away from his arms slightly to get a better look at his face. 

He blinked out of his thoughts. “What?” 

Her hand pressed against his cheek. “Are you not feeling well?” Her eyebrows furrowed with worry. “Your face is a little warm.” 

He shook his head. “I’m fine.” 

Who are you? 

And why do I feel like I’ve loved you for more than a lifetime? 

“Dance with me, Hao.”   

His footsteps moved without thought, as if he had done it before, his muscles picking up on a memory his mind could not. 

He focused on her, the stunningly bright and magical girl before him, basking in her laughter and relishing the feeling of having her in his arms. 

They danced until neither one could dance any longer. 

“I’m glad you brought me to your hometown, Hao.” She whispered, her back against his chest as he looped his arms around her, staring out into the glittering ocean. “Hai Cheng is beautiful.” 

“You’re beautiful.” Who are you? 

She turned in his arms, laughing. “You’re cheesy.” 

“You love me.” The words spilled from his mouth with no control, as if it had been a predetermined choice of someone that wasn’t him. 

She hummed. “I do love you.”

Who are you?

“Promise me you won’t forget me once I’m gone.” 

He blinked. 

“I know we’re both still young, but,” She turned in his arms to face him, pulling him closer by wrapping her arms around his neck. The sleeves of her coat brushed against his skin and he shuddered, feeling her cold hands press against his nape. “Is it selfish of me to want you to not forget about me?” 

He shook his head. “Of course not, love.” The pet name rolled off his tongue like second nature, although Minghao couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever called someone love.

“I’m scared.” 

He looked into her eyes, watching as they roamed his face, searching. His own eyes felt wet with sudden tears. 

“I’m scared, Hao. What if there really is nothing after death?” 

He gently wiped a lone tear away from her face. 

“Don’t be scared.” He whispered, and the memories came rushing back through him, consuming his every being and overwhelming his mind. I know who you are now. “You’ll be in everything I ever do.” 

(⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐)

It was December yet again and Minghao was still dreaming of her. 

He relished each meeting, looking forward to each time the sun set and being lulled gently to sleep. 

He’d long mastered the art of swimming through space, spending his time doing lazy backflips and chasing her through streams of planets and stars. It was no longer a frustrating, confusing prison in his mind, but a second home to him now.

He could remember everything now. Every piece of their time together on Earth and every moment off of it. 

He could remember the first meeting, the first kiss, each secret coffee date, each dance under the dim kitchen lights. The first time he’d taken her to meet his family, how he’d cried in Jun’s arms upon reading the doctor’s report. The last kiss, the last coffee date, the last dance under the bright kitchen lights. The funeral, the aftermath. Minghao could remember all of it.

[slut4celebs]

2 Hands

Tate McRae x Reader

Word Count: 1,397

Trigger Warning: anxiety

Request / Synopsis: "since "2 hands" has been released, i've been thinking about a fic where the reader is an f1 driver and she gets asked by tate to be in the mv"

request here | masterlist | yellowjackets account

She looked way too fine in this music video. I need her.

(Y/n) couldn't say no when her girlfriend of three months put on her best pout accompanied with her hazel puppy dog eyes. She wanted her to be in her 2 Hands music video due to the fact that she was a Formula One driver. When the basic plot somehow leaked that one of her close friends and fellow Formula One driver, Lando Norris, would be in the video due to the fact his F1 car matched the outfit her girlfriend, Tate, adorned during the promotion of the song. When (Y/n), who had oil smeared on her cheek from currently working on her car, finally said yes, Tate pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her on the spot. It made (Y/n) feel less worried about being on set with her girlfriend and confident in her choice.

Until the day came where she actually had to go on set.

A thousand and one thoughts swarmed through her head as she looked around. For one, how was she supposed to focus with Tate looking that good in her orange Formula One jumpsuit. Two, was she supposed to learn a dance? There were many things (Y/n) was good at and dance wasn't one of them. This fact caused her anxiety to spike as she hugged herself, eyes scanning her surroundings. It was hot, they were shooting outside, and she was anxious.

She was also wondering if she was late. She had come in to Tate filming a scene on an orange sports car outside a gas station, which was obviously another area they were planning to shoot in. Surely, if she was running late, her girlfriend would let her know. Pulling out her phone, she checked and confirmed her call time. Her throat felt dry and she could feel the clothes on her skin. She wasn't late, but she still felt out of place. That's when a familiar voice broke her out of her thoughts.

"Hey, (Y/n), are you okay? You're looking a little green." A hand fell on her shoulder and she shut her eyes. It was Findlay, Tate's best friend, who came to every shoot with her. Turning to him, she gave a wry smile. The smile didn't help (Y/n)'s case. "I can go get Tate really fast. When it comes to you, I know she won't mind if she has to reshoot."

Quickly, (Y/n) stopped him before he left. The grip and pull back surprised him, but it was still gentle enough not to hurt him. "No, no, no. I'm fine, Findlay. Am I- Am I late or something? Am I going to have to dance?" (Y/n) questioned, glancing to her shoes. She had spent a lot of time making sure she was perfect for Tate, and now that was all going to be ruined. She wasn't cut out for a music video, Tate probably should have asked Lando to be in the video. He was much more outgoing than she was. He would've done much better. The fans wanted him anyway. It was on pretty much every blog and in every Tweet about the music video.

Before Findlay could even attempt to answer her questions, another voice entered the conversation, startling (Y/n). She hadn't even heard the word 'Cut!' being called. "You made it," Tate smiled, pulling (Y/n) into a hug, kissing her. Pulling away, she went to get a drink of water before noticing just how green her girlfriend was. "Woah, babe, are you alright? You're looking a little green. You're not sick are you? I could've totally rescheduled the shots with you in it." Tate said, placing an arm on (Y/n)'s. She shot her best friend a look when he gasped and announced that he said the same thing.

"I'm fine," (Y/n) repeated, swallowing thickly as she looked at the dancers rehearsing. "Tate, am I going to have to dance? I'm not sure I'm cut out for this. Maybe you should get Lando. Everyone is speculating he is in it. Look-"

Tate gently pushed down (Y/n)'s phone as she desperately attempted to get proof. She glanced over to Findlay, who realized that he should be anywhere but there. Grabbing himself a water from the table beside him, he wandered off with a last reassuring smile sent (Y/n)'s way. Once he was gone, Tate gently took (Y/n)'s hands. (Y/n) had to resist wincing because she was sure that Tate was going to break up with her right then and there.

"I'm fully aware of what everyone is saying online and the teasing that Lando has been doing. I want you in this though. You're not going to have to dance. I just want you in the… you know, kinda sexy scenes on top of the car. Then, we'll shoot some more tomorrow in a house. I wanted you in this because I wrote this song for you. Also, I thought you and Lando might have more fun with the teasing." She added softly, squeezing her girlfriend's hands. Watching (Y/n) relax brought a smile on her face. She knew that (Y/n) was constantly trying to hide her flaw or reactions to certain situations, and she was a little glad to see her open up more. "If you really don't want to be in it, I won't be mad."

(Y/n) shook her head gently. Taking in a deep breath, she leaned in to kiss Tate. "I do want to be in this. I'm sorry, I got a bit freaked out. Plus, everyone online was thinking it was Lando, I felt I'd be a let down." She said with a small, honest smile.

Shaking her head, Tate couldn't help the small laugh from leaving her chest. "I was going to suggest your surprise guest starring to be a hard launch. Because, you're right, everyone online thinks it's Lando. Imagine their surprise when it's my beautiful girlfriend instead. We don't have to make it a soft launch, but either way… People are going to love that it's you instead. Trust me. You aren't giving yourself enough credit. I am painfully aware of all of the people who want you online." Tate teased.

A scoff left (Y/n), the tension easing up in her shoulders. "Have you seen your fans?" She rose a brow. The two were about to kiss again until the director called Tate back to shoot another shot. "Get out there. I'll get ready." (Y/n) opted on kissing her cheek quickly, watching Tate head off, sending one last wink in her direction.

When the music video came out, (Y/n) was standing behind Tate to read the comments. She was surprised to see just how right Tate was. Everyone was shocked, in a good way, that it was (Y/n) instead of Lando. A bunch of comments saying that the video was their gay awakening and 'a much better surprise' made its way through hundreds of millions of comments. She kissed Tate's cheek with a little smile. Tate leaning back into her girlfriend with a shared grin, her hazel eyes sparkling as she waited for another kiss. A wish fulfilled happily.

"So, when are you going to post our behind the scenes footage?" (Y/n) asked moving to sit beside her girlfriend. They had indeed decided to make this their hard launch. It felt right. "I think you should post the kiss still. It's my favorite."

Tate let her eyes search (Y/n)'s face for a moment. "Let's just give ourselves a few more minutes of it just being us." Tate decided, to which (Y/n) agreed with happily. When they finally did post that they were actually a couple using those behind the scenes photos and videos, it was as if they had broken the internet, not that either of them cared or acknowledged that. They were too busy being intertwined, content with the video that was now online for the whole world to see. (Y/n) received a lot of praise for her guest appearance, mostly from Tate. Not that she minded, that's the only person's opinion she really favored. But everyone loved how much Lando was teased, only for it to be a hard launch. (Y/n) just felt unbelievably lucky to be able to say that her girlfriend was the talented Tate McRae.

[littledeathdove]

Rain and Games

I love this header I made of MM so I just HAD to use it for this. This is just a peak of a Mother Miranda x Reader story am planning to write, and me trying to write to get better lol 😭

Word Count: 1714 Words

Pairing: Mother Miranda x Reader

︶︶꒷︶︶୨ৎ︶︶꒷︶︶

Rain pours from the sky, clouds now gray and the sky dark, a direct contrast to how bright and sunny it was only hours ago. Thankfully you are under one of the large trees in the hidden spot you had found in the village’s forest and claimed as your own. The spot you have been having little encounters with Mother Miranda in, but mostly just her crows.

Hmm, speaking of the priestess, you wonder if she will come to the woods today. Likely not, you shouldn’t even be out here yourself, but you got stuck out here when the rain started pouring down all of a sudden and didn’t want to risk getting sick from being rained on. While the rain was very calming as the sound of it hitting the grassy ground mixed in with the gentle playing of you playing your guitar, you wished it wasn’t raining for then Mother Miranda – or even her crows could make an appearance.

The woman’s presence was quite nice to be in, especially when she was in that crow form of hers. You couldn’t particularly say she was nice to be around when she was in her humanoid form that most of the villagers are used to seeing. It was actually pretty awkward to be around her when she was in that form since she would just stand near you and stare, not putting much effort into the small conversations you would try to start with her.

You probably shouldn’t be wishing for her presence out of all the people in this village, since she was one of the most dangerous people in the village. Someone that should strike fear into you, not someone that you should feel comfortable around. However, it wasn’t like she was actively acting as someone who is above you in all aspects – which she definitely was.

The way her crows acted around you, how they would ruffle their feathers and wait for you to feed them with what you will assume to be excitement, how they would fly around you – that would look like they were mimicking dancing – as you played your guitar and told them stories, couldn’t ever help you think of the priestess as you should.

You look up toward the sky as you hear something from the trees around you. It sounded as if something was coming out of them. You slowed down your fingers, which made the sound coming from your guitar quiet down, as you listened for the sign that anything dangerous could be making the sound.

You love the hideout that the woods provide for you, but it has its downsides seeing that it is deep in the woods. Like dangerous animals hiding between the trees, or even worse lycans being out there in the trees, stalking you and just waiting to strike.

A shiver ran down your spine at your thoughts. Though there was nothing out there in the trees when you gave them a look through with your eyes, which was a relief. You looked back up at the trees and this time you saw a black feather falling gracefully like it was in slow motion. Your eyebrows knitted together as you watch it fall, and you feel your chest get hit with a small bit of hope that it could be one of those cute crows feathers. You completely stopped playing your guitar at this point as you put a hand on your chest and mentally pushed down those hopes, not wanting to be disappointed.

Once the feather finally hits the ground you twist your body to reach for it. Just when the tip of your fingers gets close to touching it and possibly being able to drag it closer to you, you hear a loud caw next to the right side of your ear. Startled, you let out a yelp that turns into a groan as you hit the ground next to the bench you were sitting on. Thankfully your arm guards you from getting mud or the feeling of wet grass on your face, but you couldn’t say the same for your clothes, specifically your shirt. Sitting up on your knees, you look down at your shirt which now has mud and small wet spots here and there on it.

You let out an offended huff as you look over at the crow who is perched on the back of the bench, its head tilted as it looks right back at you. You both continue to stare at each other, no blinking, no movement, nothing. After a few more seconds of the staring battle, you just accept being the loser and look away, standing up from your knees and wiping your hands over your shirt. A stupid idea since it smudged the mud around even more.

Great, now it’s going to be even more difficult to wash the mess out.

You look back at the crow with a grimace, deep down though you were quite happy to see the crow, especially since it is one of her’s.

“Why did you give me a scare like that, hm,” You questioned the corvid as you walked back over to the bench, not sitting back down just yet. The crow just let out another caw – that isn’t as loud as the other loud it just let out moments before – before it ruffles its feathers and shakes off the droplets of rain on them.

As it does, the worry of your clothes being messy left your mind as the question of why it, no, why she is here. You turn around and sit back down on the bench, placing your guitar next to you as you do so. You lean your head back and look at the rather big bird again, waiting patiently as it continues to shake itself off completely.

Once it was finished, it fluttered down to your guitar and stomped its feet a couple of times, finding its footing on the instrument. You put your hand a few inches away from the crow’s body, ready to protect it from slipping off of your guitar if it somehow fails to get good footing.

You move your hand back when you are sure the crow won’t fall, and finally ask the question that has been poking at your curiosity. “Why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be…I don’t know somewhere warmer?”

The crow looked at you, giving you what you would think would be a flat look if it were human. It lets out another caw as it turns its whole body towards you, looking at you like you have done a crime. Funny how expressive you make these crows out to be in your head.

“I mean I probably shouldn’t be talking, since I am also—” You are cut off by another caw — wow, the audacity! — that you immediately picked up to mean the crow was agreeing with you. You frown as you look back at the crow and cross your arms over your chest.

“Cut me some slack. I was out here before it started pouring, and if I tried to run back to the village grounds I'd get sick from the rain.” You let out a huff finally deeply understating the situation you’re in, “So I really don’t have a choice but to stay out here.”

You look back to the place the crow was just to see two crows there now. What the fuck. Why is she bringing more crows out in this rain? Doesn’t she care about them getting sick…wait can crows even get sick?

While you're staring at the pair of crows in front of you and questioning your knowledge of birds, you see from the corner of your eye something flying down to the other side of the bench and perching there. You snap your neck around to see what it could be only to be met with another crow.

“Ok, what are you doing?” Confusion and suspicion in your voice as you look back and forward from the crow who was standing on the back of the bench, and the two other crows who are still on your guitar. The crow – that you assume was the crow to show up first – sturts towards you, its eyes looking into you as if it is trying to hypnotize you to keep your eyes only on it.

You hear a sound just as the adorable-looking crow places one of its feet on you, stepping into your lap. The sound of air whooshing, a distant sound, even though you can swear that the sound was so close to your ear. You try to turn your head to see what that sound was made by, but this crow that is staring at you so intensely is just not letting your attention free.

Why does it feel like this crow is doing this on purpose? You open your mouth to question the bird but you are left to close your mouth like a fish as the corvid spreads its black wings – such a gorgeous sight, you note – and takes flight suddenly. Eyebrows furrowed, frown on your face, and an odd feeling of disappointment in your chest, you look up to where the bird could have gone but you are just met with the sight of multiple feathers falling from the sky and the tree covering you from the sky.

“What the hell was that? I know crows play games, but why is her crows playing games?” You huff out in confusion of this whole situation.

With no expecting sight to see upwards you start to lower your head back down, but are stopped by the feeling of someone's hand wrapping around your throat. Besides the feeling of cold skin on yours, you also feel the coldness of jewelry on your neck as an unknown person presses rather sharp nails – that might as well be claws – into the side of your neck.

“I didn’t know you were one to complain about someone playing games.” Amusement is laced throughout her tone, and the sound of that voice is one that you will never be one you can miss as long as you live this life of yours. Seems like your wish to have Mother Miranda here with you today has come to fruition.

︶︶꒷︶︶୨ৎ︶︶꒷︶︶

Just something short since this is just a peek, Mother Miranda didn’t get much part since am still trying to figure out how to write her in the way I like.

If you like please do give feedback cause am going to turn this into a full-blown story after I outline/plan it 😋🙏🏾

[ddandelionfluff]

moonlit recollections | viktor x reader

modern-ish? au; fluff; no relationship established; it's my first time posting pls forgive any mistakes; englishmajor!reader; inspired by Astrophil and Stella Sonnet 71

***

Who will in fairest book of nature know

You knock on his door at two in the morning, startling him out of the coffee-fueled haze he had been in for the past few days. Your voice carries through the thin door, asking if he was still awake. Joints creaking, Viktor pulls himself out of his desk, self-consciously smoothing out his too-wrinkled shirt and running his hands through his too-long hair as he opens the door, stopping quickly. The inside of his dorm is a mess, and if you saw it, you’d probably start trying to help him clean.  

He draws a breath as you look at him and laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkling as they trace his hair.

“You look rough.” An admonishment.

He shrugs.

“I have an exam tomorrow,” An apology.

“Which is why I’m here,” You say by way of explanation, which does not actually explain anything.

His brows furrow as he leans against the frame, taking some pressure off his leg. “I do not understand. We did not have a study session planned today.”

And even if you did, it wouldn’t have been at two in the morning.

You laugh again, a short, incredulous sound, and Viktor wishes he was funnier so he could be credited for it more often.

“No, genius, I’m here to get you to take a break. Also, you did miss our last session, so you owe me.”

How virtue may best lodged in beauty be

So here he was, following you through the dark university buildings as you, for the lack of a better word, broke into the arts lounge.

“It’s not breaking in if I’ve got the keys,” You justify, keys jingling in your hands. Viktor studies you as you fiddle with them, your face scrunched and tongue poking through your lips in concentration. You hadn’t taken off the lip oil you usually wore for moisture, and it glittered under the flashlight’s scrutiny.

“Hmm?” He says, realizing that you had said something, and that you were standing.

“Is the sleep deprivation getting to you, Viktor?” You tilt your head, eyes roving over his face, searching for the obvious signs of exhaustion painting his features. The purple under his eyes, drawing his face in even harsher lines, the line of tension between his brows. The way his features tended to draw into themselves like a plant unwatered. He watches you watch him, tracing your lips, touchless, trying to remember a word that wasn’t your name.

“I think it is,” He admits softly, afraid of letting you catch onto him.

You smile, hands finding the doorknob and twisting. You leaves the lights off, navigating through memory and the stray light of streetlamps streaming in. Viktor stumbles behind you, feeling his way through clumsily.

The doors to the balcony had been left open, a major oversight you grumble about as you slide them open. The air is chilly, making you shiver as it slithers past the warmth of your sweater. His sweater, Viktor notices. He had lent it to you a week ago, at your last session.

 Let him but learn of love to read in thee,

You had shown up to the library soaked through, the rain outside painting the world gray with its weeping. You tried to hide the shivering, but it was clear in the way you clenched your teeth, body drawn together with tension as you laughed off his concern.

“I don’t need my sweater, go change in the bathroom,” He had offered, both pitiful and exasperated at your lack of planning. With a sheepish smile, you had accepted the help, promising to return it as soon as possible.

Sunk into worn leather couches warmed by the nearby fireplace, you’d almost disappeared under the wool. As your hands danced across the page of the textbook in your lap, underlining and annotating the poem as you explained the basics of close-reading, Viktor couldn’t help but notice how you halted to push the sleeves up now and then as they got in the way.

It was supposed to be an easy class, but as of late, it had been taking up more time than his core courses. Not that Viktor could be bothered. You two had been in the library for hours now, on the couches near the fireplace—a frequent haunt. It was the best place to curl up with your anthologies in your laps, the lack of tables allowing  forcing Viktor to lean closer to see what you were pointing at, and—unbeknownst to him, for you to sit so your thigh would press up against his. Though he wasn’t aware of your design, he was plenty aware of the electricity firing up his nerves, even when the warmth of the fire threatened to drag him under.

He yawned, confused. Not only because he couldn’t make sense of your explanation or the sonnet itself, but also because he wasn’t used to the extreme bouts of fatigue that overtook him around you. It must be the literature, he had thought to himself, the words were literally putting him to sleep.

Stella, those fair lines which true goodness show.

“Tired?” You’d asked, sounding equally exhausted and perhaps a little hopeful. But Viktor had shaken his head—he’d needed to get through it that night, for the test was less than twenty-four hours away. The first one, his chance to set a standard for himself and to make an impression.

“Confused. I still do not understand what this last line adds to the poem. It is so…” Viktor had sighed, mouthing the line. “…random.”

“Well,” You’d started, tucking away a stray strand of hair. “If you look at the rest of the sonnet, Astrophil has been focusing on the virtuous parts of his love for Stella, basing it in admiration of her character and beauty from this very pure, respectful perspective. Almost like he was worshipping a deity rather than, I don’t know, loving a person. Keeping that in mind, what do you think the sudden interjection of desire might mean?”

Even half-asleep, you made the perfect teacher. Viktor wondered if he was making you question your decision to be an educator with his idiocy. Mulling over your words, he’d tried to formulate a response that would please you.

There shall he find all vices' overthrow,

That was the most difficult part of this subject—finding an appropriate answer. In his field, there was only ever one. But here? It felt like he was shooting in the dark, randomly putting together semblances of analysis in hopes of making the puzzle fit. It frustrated him.

“Hm,”—is what came out. Sighing, he’d tried again.

“Well, desire in this case would refer to a…carnal feeling, would it not?” The word was awkward against his tongue as he’d looked to you for approval, lighting up slightly when you nodded. Congratulations, you absolute genius, you remembered a basic definition, he thought sarcastically. It was a clear testament to his skills that even such a rudimentary recollection made you happy.

“Desire expresses, well, a desire for sustenance,” He’d continued. “So, it is being starved by the virtue of Astrophil’s love for Stella, then? Is that it?”

You smiled, teeth peeking out from behind your gloss-painted lips. “That is one interpretation, and a pretty good one at that.” Then, you’d paused, leaving Viktor confused again. A good interpretation did not mean the best one.

Not by rude force, but sweetest sovereignty

“Some might say that it’s a reminder that any true love can’t just be focused on virtue and purity, but also needs to encompass more carnal, ‘lowly’ aspects to be complete.” You explained, noticing his look. “But it really doesn’t matter what interpretation you argue for, as long as you have a strong argument.”

“But which is the better answer?” Viktor had asked incredulously, a hand threading through his hair.  

You laughed lightly. “There isn’t one, I suppose. Just whatever you can argue for.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.” He said with finality.

You shrugged as you scribbled down the analysis in his margins, leaning over so your hair was too close to Viktor’s face. He drew in a sharp breath, smelling the fresh scent of your shampoo.

“It’s just an exercise in close-reading, Viktor. The entire point is to discover the poem,”—you’d punctuated this statement with a flourish of your hand, rings glinting—"not to tie it up and beat it until it gives you the ‘right’ answer.”

Your voice had taken on that trademark gentleness, the tone it always took when you talked about anything you loved. Poetry, your favourite book, even a particularly good cup of coffee. It made Viktor’s chest ache, like it was pulling into itself, trying to shy away from you. He wondered if you could ever talk about him in that tone.

He’d been silent too long, eyes resting on your face absentmindedly. You laughed, snapping your fingers in front of him. He startled, sheepish. You’d been talking.

“Wanna call it a night?” You’d asked, shifting to face him properly, knees still tucked under your thighs.

Viktor had shaken his head. “No, I still do not feel entirely confident about this test,”

“Relax, Viktor, it’s only worth four points. Have fun with it,” You yawned, leaning your head against the couch, right beside his shoulder.

He’d mimicked you, leaning his head back to relieve the ache in his neck. “I would have thought that our semester-long acquaintance would have shown you how impossible that is.”

You had shrugged, blinking slowly. “Worth a try,”

Silence was a blanket over the two of you, your eyes shut lightly while Viktor tried to draw his away. He’d dreaded the end of this quiet, when you inevitably opened your eyes and sighed, a complaint about how you still had to go home and make dinner slipping from your lips. And Viktor had, once again, been too afraid to betray himself, to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner, to punctuate that question with the fact that his place was closer anyway. Instead, he’d stolen glances as you packed up, stopped you from returning his sweater, assuring you he’d just take it later.  

Of reason, from whose light those night-birds fly;

“Do you remember when we first met? You looked exactly like how you do right now,” On the balcony, you pull him out of his thoughts, leaning against the railing. He steps forward to join you, the cold metal a welcome shock compared to the nearly uncomfortable warmth your presence inspired in him.

“Are you trying to tell me I look horrible?” He replies flatly.

You shrug, smiling. “Maybe,”

He laughs, swallowing the faint bitter taste of self consciousness as he takes his place beside you.

That inward sun in thine eyes shineth so.

He’d been late on the first day, having to brace far too many stairs for his liking. The night before had been spent sleepless with pain in his leg, and the stairs that morning only made it worse. The only seat left was beside you, in the second row of all places. Cane thumping embarrassingly as the professor paused, Viktor had dropped beside you, trying his best not to disturb your arm as he settled in. The old hall, tucked away in the windowless basement of the Arts department, had creaky chairs and tiny pull-out desks, quite different from the state-of-the-art labs Viktor was used to. Despite his best efforts, his arm bumped against yours as he brought out his notebook.

You’d startled slightly, throwing him a small smile as he muttered a hasty apology. He began trying to decipher the page number by looking at your book, half-hidden by the arm you rested your head on. Unfortunately, you’d noticed that too. With another kind smile, you’d reached over and turned the book to the right page, pointing to the exact sonnet being discussed.

Though he thanked you, the lecture still flew over his head.

He could feel your eyes on him as you put your things away extra slowly, as if to match his pace in an attempt to not embarrass him further. If so, it didn’t work. He’d been painfully aware of the delay he was causing.

 “Are you in this faculty?” You’d asked as Viktor stood up. He was a deer caught in headlights as you swung your bag onto your shoulder.

“No, this class is, eh, a required option,” He’d said, feeling the paradox of the category.

“Really? The engineering students usually take the lower-level literature courses.”

“How do you know I’m in engineering?” Viktor had asked. Being easily discerned didn’t sound like a good thing.

You’d laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s only because I know most of the literature students, we’re a pretty small group.”

“Fair, but I could be in maths, or biology,” He’d titled his head. Around him, new students had started piling into the room. The two of you had been standing here for a while now.

“Well, you smell like motor oil and formaldehyde, so I think I got it half right.” You’d winked, stepping past him. You smelled like jasmine and books.  “I’ll see you around?”

And, not content to be perfection's heir,

And you had seen him around. The next lecture, you’d grabbed a seat closer to the entrance, saving the one beside you for him. He saw you as soon he entered, drawn to familiarity. Stopping just a step away, he noticed the bag, self-consciousness seeping in for a second as he wondered if he wasn’t as welcome as your last conversation had led him to believe. Perhaps that was just politeness, to help him save face? He had taken up a lot of your time.

Somewhere in the middle of his internal conflict, you had looked up from your book.

“Oh, hi, I saved you a seat!” You’d said cheerfully, a hint of tension in your smile. Later, you would tell him you were afraid to come off as too eager to be his friend. He found it unbelievable that someone could be embarrassed of wanting to be kind.

Viktor had never been so grateful for both his inability to decipher literature or his disability than the effect it had on his friendship with you. After the egregiously long reading list was distributed, you’d turned to him:

“I was thinking of going to get the books after class, do you want to come with? There’s quite a lot of them, so it would be easier for us to carry them together.”

Only when you were walking back to his dorm did he realize that in his eagerness to form an acquaintance, he had skipped over something quite obvious.

“You do not need help carrying these,” He said, slightly accusatory.  In one arm he carried a tower of half of the total required books, and, he realized again, only the thinnest ones.

 “Well, I didn’t want to come off as patronizing by asking you if you needed help,” You said, voice strained. From embarrassment or the effort, he could not tell. “Besides, my reasoning was so half-assed, I thought you saw through it.”

Viktor’s annoyance had only lasted a second before he noticed the breathlessness in your voice, no doubt from carrying almost double the weight you’d have to if you’d bought only your own books.

“Well then, I think I owe you for this,” He’d said, trying to keep his voice even. The truth was, even with you taking on so much of the burden, his arms and legs ached. There was no way he could’ve made it all the way back without your help. “Thank you.”

Now, you were definitely embarrassed. “You don’t have to thank me, any friend would do the same.”

Friend. He had other friends, but Viktor had still warmed at the fact that you’d decided his company was worth pursuing.

Thyself, dost strive all minds that way to move,

Now, here you were, a semester’s worth of study sessions and late-night talks later, still finding each other’s company worthy. Even as you stood silently, admiring the city’s skyline, basking in the presence of the other wordlessly.

“I must apologize,” Viktor begins suddenly. You shoot him a quizzical look but let him continue.

“For missing our last session,” He explains. Now your lips part, but Viktor continues. “No matter how busy I had been, I should’ve let you know I couldn’t make it. But I had just returned from an exam after two sleepless nights and fell asleep despite myself.”

You turn towards him, concern drawing your eyebrows together. “Viktor, why would you need to apologize for getting sleep? Speaking of which, why are you depriving yourself of rest?”

“I need to study, you know how it is,” He waves a dismissive hand, trying not to get anxious over the fact that he was currently wasting time.

“I must admit, I do not know how it is,” You reply. It was true, Viktor had noticed the delicate balance you struck in your own life, somehow always finding the time to socialize and keep yourself healthy without failing all your courses. Though you always said it was because your degree was easier, Viktor didn’t believe it.

“Unfortunately,” He sighs exaggeratedly, “we cannot all be gods of excellent time management.”

You laugh. “Not time management, just an easier program,”

Viktor shakes his head. “After taking just one of the courses that make up your schedule, I must disagree. I would have failed without you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, sure, Vik.”

The nickname makes his heart stutter, even though you’d used it a thousand times. The lack of sleep truly was getting to him. In the silence that followed (because he couldn’t think of how to continue), you sigh.

“What’s the end for you, Vik?” You ask, looking at him sideways. “What’s the point of all this—the sleepless nights, the skipped meals, the self abandonment?”

The question was uncharacteristically heavy, and he wonders for a moment if he should inquire after you. But then again, it was half-past two and you were here, with him, instead of getting the minimum eight hours of rest you subscribed to, so perhaps that was a non-question.

Instead, he ponders the question you’d asked, mulling the words over in his mouth before speaking. He hadn’t really vocalized it before. “Well, I want to help people, I suppose. Help them and be remembered for it.”

You hum in understanding, expecting him to continue. And he does.

“I suppose I’ve felt…invisible. For most of my life, that is. Most people were embarrassed of looking at me, and the universe itself seemed to be telling me that I didn’t matter. So I made myself matter. Became the smartest in the room, the most accomplished, excelling intellectually so that no one had a chance to notice anything else.”

“Did it work?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

“I…do not know,” He admits, laughing slightly. “The recognition, the awards, the opportunities—they help, but the attention only lasts a few minutes, and it’s always…incomplete.”

“How so?”

He hesitates slightly, scared of the words about to leave him. “People don’t see all of you, I suppose. Just your mind, and your work. They still shy away from all the parts of you that don’t fit in,” He motions towards the cane still clutched in his hand, and the leg that now ached tenfold.

You hum in understanding, your eyes now finding his. “Like people only value you for what you can do, rather than who you are.”

“Exactly.” For a moment, Viktor is in awe of your ability to understand people, before he notices the tension in your shoulders and the tight way you’d said those words.

“What about you?” He asks. “What do you hope to achieve from all this?” 

Who mark in thee what is in thee most fair.

You take a breath, exhaling deeply as you look around. “Same as you, I suppose.”

“I was referring specifically to all this,” He waves a hand, gesticulating to your surroundings. “Taking care of so many people, in so many small ways. It must add up. It must take time away from studying, from actually working towards your goals.”

You laugh, but it’s more of a formality than genuine mirth. “I don’t really have big goals like you, a need to be remembered in history for doing something great. I don’t care about a classroom of kids studying history decades in the future, I care about my siblings remembering me the moment they’re, I don’t know, illegally drunk and have no ride. I want to love and be loved now, in the immediate. Screw legacy, or whatever,”

 Somewhere during your brief monologue, the fire behind your eyes had started blazing again. The traitorous ally that was the air in his lungs betrays him, as it usually does around you, but Viktor wouldn’t be surprised if he could just survive on the sight of you alone. Your shoulders tense, face taught, defenses raised, a vestige of having to defend your choices and your life from those who could never truly understand you. As much as he wished to reach out, ease the tension holding you tight, it was exhilarating to witness—the ferocity that inspired your love.

“What?” Your eyes meet his, finally, after roving everywhere else for the past few minutes. He realizes he’s been staring too long, too quietly. Licking his lips, coming up empty for words. Woops.

“Is there something on my face?”

A shake of the head. “No, no. You’re fine,”

“Alright,” You say, suspicious. “You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?”

“Of course not!” Viktor scrambles to correct you. “I was just…at a loss for words.”

“Whatever you say, Vikkie-boy,” You sigh, faking exasperation.

Viktor cringes at the nickname, which was novel.  “Please never use that term again.”

You pout, a teasing glint in your eye as you lean towards him. “Aw, you don’t like my new pet name?”

“Yes,” Viktor replies, deadpan. Partially because he cannot, with any self-respect, entertain such a monstrous butchering of his name, and because you were entirely too close to him. Close enough that he can see the pores in your skin and the pupils of your eyes, and the glittering liquid in your waterline.

So while thy beauty draws thy heart to love,

He catches the exact moment you notice it too, the proximity. Your gaze flits somewhere lower, and though he would like to flatter himself, Viktor resists the thought that comes. He hears your breath falter, tripping before correcting itself, your lips parted slightly.

Another thought, loud and overwhelming. Much harder to resist. Much harder to think past. So he doesn’t—think, that is. Doesn’t speak. Lets the silence and your confusion stretch on for a few more moments as he takes you in.

“You’re acting a bit strange,” You say, voice and eyes low. It sounds divine.  He could listen to it all night. “You wanna go to bed?”  

As fast thy virtue bends that love to good:

Viktor shakes his head. There’s never been anything he was surer of. Perhaps he should feel a bit guilty that through your profession of your morals, your defense of your values, he could only think of stepping closer to you. Of taking your breath away. Of, perhaps, taking care of you, for once. Repay you for all your favours. Perhaps he should feel guilty that instead of engaging with you intellectually, he could only think of softness, in your hair, your lips, your skin. But then again—

He recalls dimly the poem that started this all, its lines blurring past him to the beat of his own heart.

But "Ah," Desire still cries, "Give me some food!"

He could do it. Step closer, quiet the tidal waves in his mind that left him so mute. There was a ninety-five percent chance you wouldn’t mind, a similar chance you would enjoy it.

It wouldn’t feel like a forest fire, he could imagine that much. A hearth, perhaps. Steady and warm and comforting, the warm space between your lips where your breath mingles with his—peppermint and coffee, the taste of the chocolate you’d been nibbling before a palimpsest he could trace with his tongue.

He could do it.

Could he?

[blushweddinggowns]

Prompt number 2 bc I’m praying for more jealous Steve content. Bc Eddie can be so oblivious and Steve can be such a bitch and those things are so important to me

Eddie was a glutton for self-punishment, that was the only reasonable explanation he could come up with on what the fuck he was doing here. Sitting at some random gay bar as he watched the man he loved dance the night away with his bestfriend.

He just had to volunteer to be their designated driver. Maybe it was stupid, but Eddie thought that y'know, a gay bar meant that no he would not have to watch Steve flirt with some randos. But he forgot the small detail that bisexual people existed. And he had seen at least three damn girls slip Steve their number.

Which was just...so fucking cruel. Why did life always have to do him so dirty? Eddie had thought that maybe...if they went to this type of place together Steve's mind would open up a bit. A stupid fucking thought honestly. Based off of nearly nothing. Like, okay sure, Steve was all touchy feely with him sometimes. When he was high or drunk suddenly Eddie became his personal chair. And he would say just...the sweetest shit. Going on and on about how happy he was to have met him, how he's so glad he's alive and well, how funny Eddie was, how nice and sweet and pretty and...and all of it had sent his traitorous brain into a tailspin that had him thinking he actually had a chance with a straight guy.

And the fucked up part was that Eddie had really tried to start doing the right thing. He put a little distance between them when he figured out that he was past a silly crush. No he was head over heels for the guy and he needed to get over it. Fast. And if he could just start saying no when Steve called to get high or have a few beers together he probably would have made some progress by now.

But no, he was still to eager for contact with him to say no. Which made him feel like a creep, always waiting around for Steve to be a little out of his mind just so he could get a hug.

When did he become so pathetic?

The only slight comfort he had tonight was the fact that he wasn't alone. It really wasn't fair to bring a straight guy to a place like this, but at least every guy who had eyes on Steve was going to have to suffer in silence with him.

And some of them were kind of cute. Cute enough for Eddie to try and use one as a distraction. He was sitting next to a preppy looking guy, talking to him a little bit. Maybe he shouldn't have set his eyes on someone that kind of looked like Steve, but fuck it. His name was Andrew, and he was nice, a good flirt. The perfect diversion for when Eddie could tear his eyes away from Steve.

And things were actually getting a little interesting with him. He had his hand on Eddie's arm, leaning in to loudly whisper everything he said in Eddie's ear. He was smiling at him, close enough for Eddie to see the pretty gold flakes in his eyes.

They weren't as pretty as Steve's but they'd do.

Andrew tucked a bit of Eddie's hair back behind his ear, leaning in again. But he didn't go for his ear this time, no, he was zeroing in right to Eddie's lips. Not that he was complaining, he let it happen, a sweet, light kiss that had zero time to escalate to more.

Because suddenly, someone was tugging at his arm, hard enough to force Eddie's whole body back, nearly out of his chair. He blinked, more than a little startled to see Steve coming out of nowhere, clinging onto him with that stupid, gorgeous smile.

"Eddieeee," Steve whined, completely ignoring Andrew's presence, "Robin ditched me to make out with someone in the bathroom."

Eddie couldn't help but smile a little bit, despite the fact that he was definitely interrupting what was probably the first good thing about this night. He glanced over at Andrew, who was staring at them, wide-eyed before saying, "Uh, I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"I don't-"

"I can't hear you in here," Steve loudly interrupted, looking adorably confused, "Come outside with me?"

If Eddie was smart, he would have gently pried Steve's hands off him before sending him off to find Robin. But...a drunk Steve was also a very cute and cuddly one. So fuck it, Eddie could find a rebound for his non-existent relationship next weekend.

He shrugged at Andrew, mouthing a quick apology at him before Steve started to drag him outside through the back door. Eddie half expected Steve to do his usual routine when he was toasted. Sweetly asking for a piggy back ride that Eddie literally could never refuse before falling asleep on his back. Then he'd get him in the car, wrangle Robin from wherever the hell she was, and they'd be off.

But the second they were stepping outside Steve was straightening up and stepping back, to Eddie's immediate confusion. He leaned against the wall, glaring at Eddie in a way he had never seen. Or at least directed at him.

"So," Steve started, his tone way too close to how he sounded when one of the kids pissed him off, "Who was that guy? You looked pretty cozy in there."

Eddie's brain was still struggling to catch up to the change in atmosphere here. But he tried to answer anyway, "I mean we were but-wait. Why are you not drunk? You were literally just-"

"It's called acting dipshit," Steve mumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Which ow, rude. But his next words hurt even more, "Not like I have a choice, since you only seem to like me when I'm fucked up."

Eddie could feel his heart stop in his chest. He didn't-oh no. Oh god. Steve figured out he was a creep. A creep who was probably moments away from getting his ass handed to him.

Eddie swallowed, at a loss for what to say. But he still tried, "I-look dude it's um, it's not like that. I didn't- I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable-"

"Then why the fuck would you kiss another guy right in front of me?"

Okay. That was enough of that. Yes, Steve could be mad about him being creepy, but no he couldn't be mad over having to bear witness for a gay kiss at a gay bar, "Well if I had known that you were apparently only okay with seeing girls kiss each other I wouldn't have come out tonight at all! Honestly Steve, how can you even say that? Like that is some real dumbass levels of homophobia, even for you. I thought the King Steve thing had died-"

"Shut the fuck up oh my god," Steve hissed out, "Are you really that damn dense? That's what you think I'm upset about? Are you fucking kidding me? And I'm the dumbass?"

"Then why are you mad?" Eddie half asked, half yelled.

“I’m not mad," Steve seethed, like he didn't look about five seconds away from choking Eddie out, "I...I just think you can choose better people to kiss.”

Maybe he really was drunk after all. Because now he wasn't making any damn sense.

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, beyond frustrated, "Who Steve? Like, I'm sorry to break this to you but not all of us can fucking look like you do alright? We're not all charming, golden Adonis basketball players okay? And sometimes you need to take what you can get. And there was nothing wrong with Andrew-"

"You think I look like a golden Adonis?" Steve interrupted, a weird expression on his face. He looked almost...hopeful? But that didn't make any sense.

"That's what you got out of that?" Eddie asked, exasperated, "I-come one dude. You know you're hot. But that's not my point."

"Well it's mine!" Steve groaned. He was biting his lips, a very distracting nervous habit that Eddie had picked up on, "Because what the fuck are we even doing? You think I'm so hot, so charming, so great, and you decide to kiss someone else in front of me? What the fuck is that? Do you like seeing me jealous? Do you get off on me pining? Please explain."

You see, that was the funny thing about Eddie's brain. One second he was lost, staring at Steve's red, bitten lips, and the next he was desperately trying to catch up with what just came out of his mouth. All of it the perfect blend to effectively shut his brain off completely.

Eddie stared at him, his words as dumb as how his face probably looked, "I-what? Huh?"

Steve narrowed his eyes at him, "Are we really doing this? Are you going to pretend like it's all in my head?"

"I-no. I just-please explain," Eddie is pretty damn sure he had never stuttered through a sentence that hard in his life.

"I've been coming on to you for months and you just keep giving me all of these mixed signals and..." Steve sighed, looking away, "I'm so sick of it Eddie. If you don't like me just say that! Stop whatever this is. Because it's mean and you know it. If you want a better option then just take it already and leave me alone."

He-what-that didn't even- Steve was straight, wasn't he? And now the stuttering had invaded his thoughts. Because if he actually understood all of that then...

He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

And his stunned silence was not helping anything.

Steve sighed, pushing himself away from the wall. He turned away, "I'm going to find Robin. We can just...act like this didn't happen I guess. I'm done."

Eddie had to give himself on thing, at least his body was working a lot faster than his brain. Steve barely had time to take a single step away before he was shooting his hand out to grab his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

"I didn't know you were an option!" Eddie blurted out, his heart hammering in his chest, "I-Stevie I thought all of it was in my head. I-I thought that you were straight and we were just hanging out-"

"You think I sit in the laps of my other guy friends?" Steve asked, completely unimpressed, "While playing with their hair and calling them beautiful? Really, dude?"

Eddie nodded, sure and fast, "Steve, I had to do my senior year three damn times. I'm not always the smartest okay? And in my defense you never mentioned like dudes-"

"Yes I have," Steve interrupted, "When you came out to me, I told you to your face that I understand. That I could relate about hiding things and not talking about it. I literally said we were in the same boat. What else could that mean?"

Eddie remembered that, crystal clear. But..."I thought you were talking about PTSD, not secretly being into dudes."

"One dude," Steve corrected, but he was relaxing a little, thank fuck. Maybe Eddie could still fix this.

He took a deep breath, using his hold on Steve's wrist to pull him closer. His hands were fucking shaking, bad enough for Steve to almost certainly notice when he rested them on his hips.

This was it, he might as well be as clear as humanly possible, "I am so into you. Like a scary amount. Like I'm...borderline in love with you."

He was completely in love with him, but he didn't have the balls to say that bit out loud. He kept going, "And I didn't know you felt the same way. At all. Like I am dangerously close to having a stroke from hearing all of that. You kind of flipped my world upside down there."

Steve huffed out a laugh. Eddie may have fucked up everything leading up to this point, but Steve was eating his little speech right up. He shuffled a little closer, wrapping his arms around Eddie's neck with a small smile, "Keep going."

"I thought that I had no chance. I mean even tonight, people couldn't stop looking at you. And you got those numbers-"

"I threw them away," Steve interrupted, "You missed that part."

He had definitely missed that part, too caught up in his own head. But that didn't stop a smile from breaking out on Eddie's face, "Good. Because if you want me, you have me. I'm all yours, in any way you want me. Understand? Fuck, Stevie if I had known any of this we'd be the ones making out in the bathroom right now. And I'm sorry about..."

For the life of him Eddie couldn't remember his name, not when he had Steve smiling at him in his arms, "The other guy. But it literally means nothing to me. Not if I get to have you. Do...do I get to have you?"

Steve hummed, pretending to think about it while he played with a lock of Eddie's hair, "I guess that depends. Is making out in the bathroom still on the table?"

"Fuck yes it is."

Steve grinned, leaning up to press the sweetest little kiss to the side of Eddie's mouth, "Then I guess you have me then."

[rylem33]

Devil or Angel

Georgie stood off to the side of the bustling wedding reception, getting a brief respite. Her sister, Victoria, had outdone herself. Again. The venue was beautiful, with strings of twinkling lights hanging and the soft hum of a jazz band drifting through the air. Guests laughed and danced with plenty of drinks and food to enjoy. 

Meanwhile, Georgie was sitting on the sidelines, wearing the bridesmaid dress picked out by her sister. Sure, she looked good but it wasn’t like she had any time to actually enjoy it.

“Georgie!” Victoria’s sharp voice cut through the air, making her flinch. Her older sister swept toward her, the perfect bride in a gown of delicate lace and shimmering sequins. Her long blonde hair was styled in loose waves, and her diamond-studded tiara sparkled as much as the smile she wore whenever someone important was watching.

“There you are!” Victoria hissed, grabbing Georgie by the elbow. “The caterers are saying they’re running out of hors d’oeuvres. Go talk to them and make sure it’s fixed. We can’t have guests going hungry.”

“But…” Georgie tried to object, I just sat down.

Victoria gave her a pointed look, her lips tightening. “Do I need to remind you how much I’ve done for you? The least you could do is pull your weight tonight.” She smiled sweetly at a passing guest before turning back to Georgie. “Now go. And fix your hair while you’re at it. You’re starting to look a little… frazzled.”

Georgie bit her tongue and nodded. “Sure, Vicky,” she muttered, standing up hurrying toward the catering tent. Behind her, Victoria’s laugh rang out in the crowd. The laugh, like Vicky in general, seemed to drown out everything and everyone else.

The catering staff barely glanced at Georgie as she relayed her sister’s demands, and by the time she returned to the reception, the band had struck up a lively tune. The dance floor was packed, and in the center of it all was Victoria…spinning, laughing, glowing. Her new husband, Daniel, stood by her side, looking at her with the kind of adoration Georgie had once dreamed he’d have for her.

Georgie’s stomach twisted. She had liked Daniel first. Two years ago, he had been her crush, the only guy who had ever really made her heart flutter. But Victoria had swooped in, batting her perfect eyelashes and flashing her perfect smile, and suddenly Georgie was left holding the metaphorical bouquet while her sister got the prize.

Georgie turned to see the rest of Victoria’s bridesmaids, all clustered together in a circle, their sequined dresses shimmering as they gossiped and sipped champagne.  Somehow they didn’t have to lift a finger all night and could enjoy the party.

“Georgie!” one of them called. “Be a dear and grab us some more drinks, would you?”

She gave the group a small nod, even though they weren’t looking at her anymore. Of course they weren’t. They’d already turned back to their conversation, laughing and clinking glasses. With a quick glance at the nearly empty tray she held, Georgie sighed softly and headed toward the bar. 

She leaned against the counter, rubbing her temples with one hand while she balanced the tray on the other. The bartender, busy mixing drinks, didn’t look her way right away, and Georgie shifted awkwardly, feeling invisible again.

Still, she felt sad as she glanced back toward the reception. The dance floor was packed, the music was jumping. A few of Victoria’s friends were spinning in a circle, laughing and having a good time. Her sister was at the center of it all, naturally, twirling in her shimmering dress, Daniel’s hand on her waist.

“Why so glum, Georgie?”

The voice was soft, but still Georgie startled. She looked around, but the bartender was busy serving someone else, and no one else was close enough to have spoken to her.

“Cheer up, sweetheart,” another voice purred…a little lower, a little sharper. “It’s a party. Have some fun.”

Her breath hitched. Slowly, Georgie turned, and there they were.

The angel and the devil stood on either side of her, as if they’d been there the whole time. The angel wore a dazzling white corset that sparkled in the dim light, her blonde hair cascading in perfect waves down her back. She tilted her head, her halo slightly askew, and gave Georgie a warm, inviting smile.

The devil, meanwhile, leaned casually against the bar, her red leather bodysuit clinging to her every curve. Her crimson lips curled into a sly grin, and her eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Long night, huh?” the devil said, smirking. “Bet you’re tired of running around like a little lapdog for Princess Perfect over there.”

“Lucy, that’s not fair,” the angel cut in, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder with a perfectly manicured hand. Her voice was high-pitched and syrupy. “Victoria’s just, like… really confident, okay? And, y’know, super organized. You could, like, totally learn from her.”

“Yeah,” the devil shot back with a roll of her eyes, “like how to steal whatever, or whoever, you want.”

Georgie blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing and hearing. “Who… who are you?”

“Friends!” the angel chirped, stepping closer. She smiled wide, her glossy pink lips practically sparkling under the dim light. “We’re here to help you, babe.”

“Help you stop being such a doormat,” the devil added, folding her arms across her chest. “You’ve spent your whole life playing second fiddle to Big Sis. Isn’t it about time you flipped the script?”

The angel gasped, pressing a hand to her chest as if she’d been deeply offended. “That’s, like, so mean! She’s not a doormat, she’s just… like… super nice! Which is, like, totally a good thing. Right, Georgie?” She turned to her with an overly sweet smile, her wide eyes sparkling with faux innocence.

The devil arched an eyebrow, her smirk growing. “Yeah, nice. And where’s that gotten her? Running around in that bridesmaid dress while Victoria sparkles on the dance floor? Please.”

“Okay, but, like, being sweet totally works too!” the angel insisted, leaning in and touching Georgie’s arm lightly. “You’re so pretty, babe. You just need to, like, let people see it! Y’know, smile a little more, maybe toss your hair? Guys love that stuff!” She giggled, her voice bubbly. “You’ve got, like, all the tools already. You just have to, like, use them.”

The devil scoffed. “What is she supposed to do, bat her lashes and hope someone notices her? That’s pathetic. No, Gigi, what you need to do is stop waiting for permission. You’re never gonna win by playing nice. You wanna feel alive tonight? Then take what’s yours.”

Georgie’s throat tightened. “I… I don’t think I can do that. Victoria…”

“Ugh, Victoria!” the devil interrupted, throwing up her hands. “Why do you care so much about her? She’s been stomping all over you for years! Taking your spotlight, taking your guy…”

“That’s, like, so dramatic,” the angel interrupted, laughing nervously. “Victoria’s just, y’know, ambitious. But Georgie doesn’t have to compete with her. She can, like, totally do her own thing! Go dance, maybe talk to that cute groomsman, and just… like… have fun!” She tilted her head, giving Georgie an exaggerated wink. “Trust me, babe, guys love a fun girl!”

Georgie swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest. “This… this can’t be real,” she whispered, glancing between the angel and the devil. “I must be losing it.”

“Oh, no way, babe,” the angel cooed, twirling a strand of her platinum-blonde hair around her finger. “You’re, like, totally not crazy or whatever. You’re just stressed, y’know? You’ve been running around all night like, um, a maid or something.” She giggled. “And for what? No one’s even saying, like, ‘thank you.’ So rude!”

The devil snorted, her crimson lips pulling into a wicked grin. “God, that’s rich. Look at her, Gigi.” She leaned in close, her tone oozing with mockery. “Sweet little Victoria’s lapdog, running around in her hideous bridesmaid dress while she prances around with your man. What’s next? Cleaning the dance floor when someone spills champagne?”

“Lucy, stop!” the angel gasped, placing her hands on her hips and pouting dramatically. “You’re being, like, such a total meanie right now!” She turned back to Georgie, her glossy pink lips forming an exaggerated smile. “Don’t listen to her, babe. You’re already, like, super pretty. You’ve got such a cute little waist, and your hair is, like, totally shiny and adorable. But… y’know, you could still, like, amp it up a bit. You’re kinda hiding all that potential.”

The devil barked a laugh, loud and sharp. “Oh, for the love of…potential? Flirting? Seriously? That’s your plan? You’re gonna have her slap on some lipstick, giggle at every guy she sees, and hope for the best? Pathetic.”

“Why not?” the angel countered, flipping her hair and giving Georgie an enthusiastic once-over. “I mean, she’s already cute, duh, but she could be, like, stunning. Like… va-va-voom stunning, y’know? You just need to work with what you’ve got, babe! Show off those legs, fluff up your hair, maybe pop on some sparkly lip gloss…guys love sparkly lip gloss. Trust me, it’s, like, science.”

Georgie blinked, startled. “I… I don’t know. I’m not really good at…”

“She’s not gonna get anywhere with that plan,” the devil drawled, stepping closer with a slow, predatory smirk. Her voice dropped to a seductive purr. “Listen to me, Georgie. You’ve spent your entire life letting people walk all over you. And for what? To get ignored? Left in the shadows while Victoria steals your thunder? You don’t owe her, or anyone, anything. Stop being so polite. Stop being so nice. Take what you deserve.”

Georgie flinched. “But… she’s my sister.”

The devil’s grin widened, sharp as a knife. “Exactly. Who better to put in her place? She’s taken everything from you…Daniel, the attention, everything. Why shouldn’t you take a little something for yourself? Make her squirm. Steal her spotlight. Hell, steal her man.”

“That’s, like, so unnecessary!” the angel interrupted. “You don’t need to be mean, babe. You can, like, totally outshine her without being all scary and angry and stuff. Just, like… turn on the charm, y’know? Be so pretty and sparkly and fun that no one even notices Victoria anymore. That’s how you win. You’ll be, like, unforgettable!”

The devil rolled her eyes. “Sure, Georgie, bat your lashes and hope someone asks you to dance. Or…” She leaned in, her voice dropping lower. “You could grow a spine, grab a drink, and march right onto that dance floor like you own it. Flirt, tease, make every guy in the room drool and make sure Victoria sees it. Trust me, she’ll hate it. And you’ll love it.”

Georgie’s heart pounded, her head spinning as the two voices swirled around her. The angel beamed at her with bright, encouraging eyes, practically bouncing on her heels. The devil leaned against the bar, her smirk sharp and knowing, radiating cool, sultry confidence.

“Georgie,” the angel said, her voice soft and sugary, “this is, like, your moment, babe. You can totally show everyone how amazing you are!”

The devil snorted, crossing her arms. “Or, you could stop pretending to be something you’re not and go after what you really want. Don’t play by the rules. Rules are for losers. You want to feel alive tonight? Do something that’ll actually make you feel good. Hell, make everyone notice you, and not in some cutesy, giggly way. Make them need you.”

Angel

Georgie hesitated, her eyes darting between the devil’s confident smirk and the angel’s eager, glossy grin. The angel’s bubbly encouragement felt oddly… comforting. So after a brief moment of consideration, Georgie turned to the angel.

“O-okay,” she said shakily. “What do I do?”

The angel squealed with excitement, clapping her hands together. “Eee! Yes, babe! Oh my gosh, you’re gonna be, like, so amazing. Just follow my lead, okay?” She leaned in, her perfectly manicured nails glinting as she gestured toward Georgie’s dress. “First things first: you’ve gotta stop looking so… blah, y’know? You’re, like, super cute already, but let’s make you, like, super-duper cute. Hold still!”

Before Georgie could react, the angel snapped her fingers, and a wave of warmth rushed over her, tingling from her toes to the top of her head. Georgie gasped as her pale green bridesmaid gown began to shimmer, the fabric shifting and tightening against her body. She watched, wide-eyed, as the color deepened to black, the neckline plunging dramatically to showcase cleavage that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Her chest swelled, rounding out into full, perky curves that strained against the snug fabric of the dress. Her waist cinched inward, creating a striking hourglass shape, and her hips flared out, accentuating her new figure. The hemline crept upward, exposing long, shapely legs that seemed sleeker and smoother than she remembered.

Her skin glowed with a subtle golden tan, her fingers brushing against her thigh and catching the silky texture. Even her posture shifted. Her shoulders rolled back, and her spine straightened as if her body naturally knew how to display itself in the most flattering way possible.

“What did you do?” Georgie stammered, her voice breathless as her hands flew to her transformed figure. Her chest heaved with every rapid breath.

“Relax, babe!” the angel chirped, twirling a strand of her platinum-blonde hair around her finger. “You look, like, so hot now! It’s an upgrade!”

Georgie shook her head, her heart pounding. “You’re changing me! I thought you were going to help me. I don’t want this.”

The angel pouted, stepping closer. “Aww, don’t be, like, all freaked out, babe. It’s totally fine!” She reached out and tapped Georgie lightly on the forehead. “Let’s just, y’know, help you, like, chill a little.”

A strange tingle bloomed in Georgie’s head, and her panic began to dissolve like a melting snowflake. She blinked, her hands slowly dropping to her sides. The dress didn’t feel so shocking anymore. In fact, it felt… good. Her chest swelled with pride as she caught her reflection.

“I guess… it does look kinda nice,” she murmured, running her hands down the silky fabric.

“See? I told you!” the angel said, bouncing on her heels, her sugary smile stretching wide. “But we’re not done yet. Hair and makeup, babe. Hold still!”

With another snap of her fingers, Georgie’s hair transformed into a cascade of thick, voluminous blonde locks. Her lips tingled as they plumped into a glossy, overfilled pout painted with a sticky pink sheen. Her lashes grew long and dramatic, and her cheeks gained a rosy glow. When Georgie caught sight of her new reflection, her lips parted in shock.

“Is that… me?” she asked, her voice soft and breathy.

“Duh, babe!” the angel giggled, giving her an approving once-over. “You’re, like, totally stunning! But now it’s time for the fun part. Go show off that hot little bod on the dance floor! Everyone’s gonna be, like, so obsessed with you!”

Georgie walked into the next room eyeing the dance floor but froze. Her heart thudded in her chest as she watched the crowd of laughing, dancing guests. “I… I don’t think I can. What if I embarrass myself?”

The angel sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Babe, you’re, like, overthinking it. You’re, like, so cute now, nobody’s even gonna notice if you mess up.” She tapped Georgie’s forehead again, her glossy nails sparkling. “Let’s just, y’know, help you feel a little more confident.”

Another wave of tingling warmth flooded Georgie’s head, and her hesitation melted away. The shyness that had held her back all night seemed to evaporate.

“Maybe… you’re right,” Georgie said, her voice a little higher, her pouty lips curling into a shy smile.

“Of course I’m right!” the angel squealed, giving Georgie a playful push toward the dance floor. “Now go out there and, like, work it, babe!”

Georgie stepped onto the edge of the dance floor, swaying her hips as she walked. Heads started to turn, and she caught the eye of a tall, handsome groomsman. His gaze lingered on her cleavage, and Georgie’s smile widened as a bubbly giggle escaped her lips.

But then she hesitated again, biting her lip. “What do I even say to him?”

“Ugh, don’t stress about it, babe!” the angel said, rushing to her side. She tapped Georgie’s forehead one last time. “Let’s just make you, like, super good at flirting, okay?”

The tingling warmth returned, stronger this time, and Georgie’s thoughts shifted again. She felt as if all her worries had been replaced with glitter and giggles. She straightened her posture, letting her chest push forward, and twirled a lock of her blonde hair around her finger.

When the groomsman reached her, Georgie didn’t hesitate. “Hi!” she chirped, her voice breathy and sweet. “You’re, like, so tall! I bet you’re, like, really good at basketball or something, huh?”

The man blinked, then grinned. “Uh, thanks! Can I get you a drink?”

Georgie giggled, twirling her hair again. “Aww, you’re, like, so sweet! Sure!” She linked her arm with his, pressing close enough for him to catch a whiff of her sugary perfume.

The angel squealed with delight as she watched Georgie strut across the dance floor, surrounded by admiring stares. “Yesss, babe! You’re, like, killing it!”

As the night went on, Georgie found herself surrounded by admirers. Men vied for her attention, offering her drinks, complimenting her laugh, and fighting for a turn to dance with her. She played along, her voice light and teasing, focused on having fun. Every giggle, every hair flip, every sway of her hips drew more eyes toward her, the admiration intoxicating.

Across the room, Victoria stood with her hands on her hips, her jaw tightening as she watched the growing commotion. At first, she didn’t pay much attention, assuming it was just one of her flirtier bridesmaids causing a stir. But then she caught a better look at the woman at the center of it all, the bombshell in the short black dress with flowing blonde hair and pouty lips, and her stomach dropped.

“Who the hell is that?” Victoria muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing. Something about the woman seemed eerily familiar, but she couldn’t place her.

Gathering her dress, Victoria stormed across the dance floor, her heels clicking furiously against the polished wood. She grabbed the woman’s arm, spinning her around.

Georgie giggled, her wide blue eyes fluttering as she tilted her head innocently. “Oh my gosh, Vicky! Hi!” she chirped, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

Recognition hit Victoria like a slap. “Georgie?” she said aloud, disbelief dripping from her voice. “What happened to you?” Victoria hissed, her voice low but furious. “You look ridiculous and you’re making a scene!”

“Oh, this?” Georgie said, gesturing to her plunging dress and running her hands down her curves. “I just, like, felt like a little makeover, y’know? Don’t I look, like, so cute?” She batted her lashes, her glossy pink lips curving into a smile.

Victoria just glared at her sister.

Georgie’s lips curled into a playful pout, her voice sugary sweet. “Aww, don’t be mad, Vicky. Everyone knows you’re the star tonight.” She giggled, swaying her hips slightly. “I’m just, like, having a little fun, y’know? Dancing and stuff.”

Victoria opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, one of the groomsmen swooped in, his hand landing possessively on Georgie’s waist.

“Sorry to interrupt, but it’s my turn for a dance,” he said, flashing Victoria a smug grin as he led Georgie away.

Georgie giggled, tossing a playful wave over her shoulder. “Bye, Vicky!” she called, leaving her sister standing frozen, speechless, and seething.

Devil

Georgie hesitated, her eyes flicking between the devil’s smirk and the angel’s eager, glossy grin. The angel’s words were sweet, almost tempting, but they felt… hollow. The devil, though, her voice dripped with power and certainty. Her confidence was so sexy, and Georgie wanted to feel that way even if just for a moment.

“I… I think I want to try your way,” Georgie said, her voice shaking but resolute as she turned to the devil.

The devil’s grin widened, her eyes gleaming like embers. “Atta girl,” she purred, reaching out to cup Georgie’s chin with perfectly manicured nails. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” Her voice was low and teasing. “Now, let’s make you unforgettable.”

Before Georgie could respond, the devil snapped her fingers, and a wave of molten heat rippled through her body. She gasped, clutching her sides as her pale green bridesmaid dress began to melt and shift. The fabric darkened to a sinful black, shrinking and tightening until it became a plunging halter dress that barely clung to her curves. Her cleavage spilled out provocatively, her toned stomach peeked through the cut-outs at her sides, and the hemline stopped just below scandalous, accentuating her long, shapely legs.

“Wh-what are you…” Georgie began, her voice faltering as her heels sharpened into sleek, towering stilettos.

“Relax, babe,” the devil said with a smirk, circling her slowly. “I’m just helping you see the real you. The version of you that doesn’t apologize, doesn’t hold back, and definitely doesn’t take crap from anyone.”

Georgie’s hair cascaded down her back in sultry waves, darkened to a rich chocolate brown with streaks of golden caramel that gleamed under the light. Her lips tingled as they plumped into a luscious pout, painted a glossy crimson, and her lashes curled dramatically, framing her smoldering amber eyes. A light dusting of freckles appeared on her bronzed skin, giving her an irresistible allure.

She caught sight of herself in the bar’s mirror and froze. The woman staring back at her was breathtaking…predatory, bold, and undeniably sexy. Her lips parted as she took in her transformed body, her fingers brushing the smooth, clingy fabric of her dress.

“I don’t look anything like me anymore,” she whispered.

The devil stepped behind her, her crimson lips brushing close to Georgie’s ear. “Oh, don’t worry, babe. It’s the you that’s been buried under all that self-doubt. The you that’s ready to take what she deserves.” She ran a finger down Georgie’s arm, her touch electric. “You’re done being Victoria’s little helper. Tonight, you’re the star.”

The devil pressed two fingers to Georgie’s temple and a sharp jolt shot through her mind, and something inside her shifted. Old insecurities and hesitations began to dissolve, replaced by a heady sense of power and control. Her pouty lips curved into a slow, wicked smile, her hips cocking confidently to one side.

“Oh,” she purred, her voice low and sultry. “This feels… good.”

The devil laughed, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s get to work.” She gestured toward the dance floor where Daniel stood laughing with a group of groomsmen. “He’s been Victoria’s trophy long enough, don’t you think? Show him exactly what he’s missing.”

Georgie’s stilettos clicked against the floor as she strutted toward Daniel, her every step commanding attention. Heads turned, murmurs rippling through the crowd…“Who is that?” “She’s stunning.” “Holy shit…”…but she didn’t stop. Her amber eyes locked onto Daniel, and she smiled as his laughter faltered and his gaze finally landed on her.

Daniel blinked, his brows knitting together as he straightened. “Uh… hi,” he said uncertainly, his voice tinged with curiosity. He glanced around, as if trying to place her. “Do I… know you?”

Georgie tilted her head, her glossy curls tumbling over one shoulder as her crimson lips curved into a slow, sultry smile. “Not yet,” she drawled, her voice a smoky purr. She let her fingers trail lightly along the edge of her plunging neckline, drawing his attention downward. “But I think you’re going to want to.”

Daniel’s eyes flicked back up to meet hers, his cheeks faintly flushing. “Oh, uh… I mean…” He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, you just… you seem familiar, but I can’t quite place you.”

Georgie stepped closer, her hips swaying with every movement. “Oh, I’ve been around,” she said cryptically, her voice dripping with confidence. “Maybe you’ve seen me… in your dreams.”

Daniel let out a breathy laugh, his confusion giving way to intrigue as she leaned in. Her perfume hit him like a drug, and his grip on his glass tightened.

“You look… amazing,” he stammered, his voice faltering as his gaze lingered on her flawless curves. “I mean, really—wow.”

Georgie’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “I know,” she said, her voice soft and teasing. She stepped closer, her fingers trailing up his arm in a slow, deliberate motion. “You look pretty good yourself, Daniel.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You… know my name?”

“Oh, I know a lot about you,” she murmured, her voice low and intimate as she leaned in, her lips brushing dangerously close to his ear. “You’re the guy who always wanted more, aren’t you? The one who’s never quite satisfied.”

Daniel stiffened, her words hitting uncomfortably close to home. “I…I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered, his resolve already starting to crack.

“Don’t you?” Georgie whispered, her crimson lips grazing his jaw as her fingers traced small circles on his chest. “You’re married now, and you get to play the part of a husband… but I wonder, will you really be happy? Or are you just going to be pretending?”

“I…look, I don’t even know who you are,” he said.

Georgie pulled back slightly, just enough to let her sultry gaze lock with his. “You don’t need to know who I am,” she said, her voice silky and inviting. “All you need to know is that I see you, Daniel. I know what you want. And I can give it to you.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. Georgie seized the moment, pressing a perfectly manicured finger to his lips.

“Shh,” she whispered, her smile turning wicked. “Victoria doesn’t have to know. She’s too busy being the perfect little bride to even notice you’re gone.”

Daniel’s defenses wavered, his breathing shallow as she took his hand in hers, her nails lightly grazing his skin. “Come on,” Georgie purred, tugging him gently but firmly. “Let’s talk somewhere a little more… private.”

Daniel hesitated for only a moment before letting her lead him away from the crowd. His heart pounded as they slipped through a side door into an empty room. The door clicked shut behind them, and Georgie turned to face him, her smile predatory.

“What are we doing here?” Daniel asked, though his voice betrayed his growing anticipation.

Georgie stepped closer, her hips swaying seductively. “Whatever you want,” she murmured, her hands sliding up his chest.

Daniel stiffened as her lips brushed his jaw. “I don’t think…”

“This isn’t about thinking,” Georgie interrupted, her voice teasing as her fingers trailed up to his collar. “This is about feeling. And I think we both know what you’re feeling right now.”

Daniel’s resolve shattered as she pulled him into a slow, searing kiss. Her nails dragged lightly down his chest, and he surrendered completely, his hands gripping her waist as he kissed her back with increasing urgency.

Outside the room, the devil leaned casually against the wall, her smirk triumphant.

“That’s my girl,” she murmured, her crimson lips curling into a grin as the sounds of passion spilled through the door.

[prudentseer]

etho down bad on his knees for joel after initially rejecting him but pride-and-prejudice-enemies-to-lovers-period-drama style

sorry i had to find someone who might(?) share the vision

Hold my hand when I say this anon but never be afraid to drop your takes into my inbox, I love to hear them regardless of whether or not I see the vision.

Fortunately for you however. I SEE THE VISION, I UNDERSTAND YOU.

The "fell first--fell harder" dynamic for boat boys fits SO WELL in my mind because of double life. Etho being wary of Joel, kinda sad that he's teamed with him and by the end he's right there with Joel in chanting "The ship burns everything burns". Also their dynamic in limited life where they were "exes"...they are enemies your honour. I call that character development.

In fact, I see the vision so much that I actually wrote something in a more arranged marriage, period drama-esc style a long while back. It's unfinished (and a bit out of order for context purposes) because historical fiction is not my specialty and I know it's not exactly what you asked for, but it's what I had and I thought I'd share a snippet (it's 1.2k words I don't think I can exactly call it that anymore) of it.

It was odd, really, how much love could feel like an obsession.

He expressed it as quietly as he possibly could in forehead kisses and small gifts; just so it didn't collect in his chest to claw at the confines and suffocate him. And it was probably dramatic to say but with the lack of air he felt around Joel it truly did feel as though if he didn't let some of it out of his heart, he'd explode.

Or even worse, he'd tell Joel how he really felt.

He'd gotten dangerously close on occasion after too many drinks by the fireplace or Joel dancing a step too close. But he didn't.

Because Joel didn't love him back.

And why would he? Etho had all but forbidden him from doing so.

This day had felt equal parts fast and agonizingly slow. But he had a feeling that a marriage he didn't agree to, with someone he barely liked, for power he couldn't have might have something to do with that.

Joel rests on the edge of the bed, one leg up and crossed on the mattress while the other dangled loosely over the edge. His tie hung loose around his neck and his shoes long kicked off but his suit still on. Etho leaned against the dresser across from him, arms folded and mouth pressed into a firm line. The grandfather clock ticking beside them. It had been three minutes and 29 seconds since they've entered their shared room and neither of them had spoken.

It was much easier to watch as time passed silently than it was to look at the person in his bed, the matching ring on his finger.

A heavy sigh startles him from his thoughts. "Listen, could you at least pretend to tolerate me?"

Etho blinks slowly. "I--"

"Don't say you have because how you've been acting like there's been a knife at your throat the entire day." Joel interrupts, running a hand through his hair. A nervous tick, something Etho noticed in the time they've spent together. "I've sent you three letters since we last saw each other; none of which you replied to, you were barely there for any of the planning process and when I see you for our actual wedding, you can't even look me in the eye."

"That's because--"

"Of what? Because I told you that I loved you?" Joel rolls his eyes. "God, excuse me for putting an effort to make it work with the man I've been betrothed to for over a year."

He remembers the day. They'd been exchanging letters weekly for several months at this point but it was only their third official time meeting in person. It was a nice day so they took a walk through Joel's garden and I instead of the flowers Etho noticed that there was this look in Joel's eye, a smile on his face and a certain tone in his voice...Joel didn't even need to tell him. He just knew. It made it extremely uncomfortable to see him again, that they both knew.

He glances down at the ring on his own finger before shaking his head.

"I'm never going to love you like you want me to."

"That's fine." Joel states, a small twitch in his face betraying his words. "I'll...I'll get over it eventually if it means you'll work with me."

Etho tilts his head. "Work with you?"

"You don't have to love me. You don't even have to like me or be friends with me..."

"But...?"

"But we're going to be a team." Joel finishes, pulling off his tie in one swift movement as he does. "This means you're going to sit next to me at gatherings, you're going to dance with me at least once when we're invited to balls, you'll eat one meal a day with me, you'll share a room with me and please for the love of God, at the very least don't look like you're going to throw up when you see me."

A compromise. A reasonable one.

"I can do that." Etho replies, as level as he can, straightening his own tie as he does. "On one condition."

"What?"

"You won't ever expect anything more."

He's being bitter and he knows it. Taking out his anger out on someone who doesn't deserve it, someone who didn't ask for this either. It's unlike him really, that he can't bring himself to care.

"You're not exactly making it difficult lad."

"Joel--"

"You have a deal."

Etho nods. "Then I'll play the part."

"You'll play the part *well*."

"I promise."

Etho didn't remember exactly when it stopped being a show to him.

"Really interesting page?"

Etho blinks himself back into reality, Joel staring at him so intently from his side of the bed that he feels his chest tighten. "What?"

Joel chuckles, rubbing his eyes sleepily before shuffling close enough that Etho can wrap an arm around his shoulder. And he does, squeezing it lightly as his arm curls around.

"You've been staring at this page blankly for the past ten minutes." Etho glances at the grandfather clock in the corner. It's been longer. "You don't have to read the book if you don't like it."

This book was Joel's recommendation and Etho had to admit that it was good, he'd just been...very distracted lately.

"No I like it's just..."

"Yeah?" He smiles, head bumping Etho's shoulder. It burns. Every touch Joel gives him feels like fire has been set to his veins. "What's wrong?"

And his eyes are staring up at him so soft and kind and warm and understanding and it feels like he can tell him anything. Almost anything. The words feel heavy on his tongue, going down like oil as he swallows them.

"Nothing, you should go back to sleep."

He won't be able to resist forever but he buys himself one more day.

Joel's nose wrinkles. "You--"

And Etho is saved by the fact Joel's interrupted by his own yawn.

"You know I'm not stupid right Etho?" Joel states, settling further into Etho's arm as he does. Etho only pulls the sheet tighter. "You've been weirder than usual and if you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself."

Theoretically, he could tell him but what then? He wouldn't leave, he wouldn't laugh but if Joel knew what Etho felt for him, he would never let him get this close to him again.

And it'd exactly what he deserved.

Karma for being an asshole to someone who just wanted to not be treated like dirt by his husband of circumstance and all he can do is accept it. Accept that he missed his chance.

Maybe one day his heart will catch up with his brain.

"Goodnight Joel."

"I'm serious." He yawns again, head tucked into the crook of Etho neck; breath tickling his clavicle. "I know you better than you like. Just wait."

It's true and it's even scary sometimes. Etho wonders how on earth he got so lucky to have someone that understands him like Joel. Someone who was willing to stick by his side through everything.

Etho waits until Joel is settled, snoring softly again before he places his book down gently on the nightstand, blowing out the table side candle. He tilts his head and presses a soft kiss to the top of Joel's head, waiting in case he stirs.

"I love you." He whispers into his hair, taking a breath when there's no response.

And the part of his chest settles just enough that he feels like he can sleep too.