#although that probably wouldn't help with book 3

[bronzewool]

HE DID IT AGAIN!

Frank, you had the perfect plot twist practically gift-wrapped for you and you just couldn't stop yourself from overexplaining what was going on. Frank, why do you keep doing this to me?

Spoilers for people who haven't read the series:

Just to reiterate, I don't hate Dune or its characters or any of its worldbuilding, I just hate how it sets up cool plot twists, only to ruin them by telling the reader in advance what is going to happen.

Book one I can forgive because the plot twist happens in the first act and there are other story threads that add dramatic tension once the inciting incident happens and all the major characters are separated and alliances are formed.

Book two I like less because while I don't hate how it sets up every major player in the mutiny to overthrow Paul, I hate how Paul already knows how each villain is trying to bring about his downfall and has already put plans into motion to counter them. What is the point in having a shapeshifter if the character can see right through it??? I wouldn't mind it as much if the reader didn't know Paul knew all along, and that was the plot twist in the final act.

I'm only 15% through book three, so I don't know if this was meant to be a plot twist, but that's the impression I got so far. For context, book two ends with Paul, now blind, walking into the desert to die after the death of Chani who died giving birth to their twins. Nine years have passed, the planet is now green, a new religious movement is rebelling against the government regime, and Paul's children, Prince Leto II and Princes Ghanima, have inherited his power of foresight.

This new cult is led by a masked preacher who dismisses the entire religious movement built in Paul's name, and before you even have time to speculate who this masked figure might be, Leto ruins it by telling his sister he thinks the masked dude discrediting their dad's legacy, is, in fact, their dead dad.

I hate this.

Again, I've only just started this book so I don't know if the plot requires Paul to be found out this early in the game, because he hasn't been unmasked yet. So maybe the book will surprise me, but it's so obviously Paul. We don't even get an establishing shot with the preacher before any tension is ruined. We are introduced to him as the kids are discussing this new religion and theorizing who its leader might be. We don't officially meet the guy until several chapters later!

I am not good at noticing plot twists early on. I'll admit that. I'm dumb as bricks and like shutting off my brain. So I don't know how quickly everyone else would have caught on that Paul is the Preacher, maybe it would have been obvious from the beginning, but I know for a fact I would have missed a key sentence just now if I didn't already read the previous few chapters where the kids planted that seed of suspicion in the back of my head. Because THAT was something Paul would say, so I know for a fact it's him! (that and how the book doesn't even try to be subtle about bringing up blindness again and how the Fremen treat their blind tribe members, even though we've only ever had one blind character in the series so far. Gee, I wonder why???)

It's especially annoying because of how Paul's story ended in the last book, and how final it felt watching him wander into the desert after losing his powers. This was the end of Paul's reign and the throne had been passed down to his orphan heirs who have a hard journey ahead of them. At no point did I even entertain the idea Paul was still alive and would come back. The world has changed so much, the characters we grew to love have moved on with their lives, and we're now following two brand-new characters who have taken over the role of protagonists. Only for said protagonists to hit the breaks and remind you of Paul's existence just as you were getting comfortable with the new setting.

Let me be surprised, Frank!

I am back on my bullshit!

[heirofnight]

meddling, pt. 3

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.9k - i will never not be a yapper

summary: ah, my favorite little adorable pair. part three of the meddling series. reader wants to thank azriel for being so kind to her since her arrival at the house of wind several months ago. she gifts him with a silver chain. azriel loses his mind. fluff, so much fluff.

warnings: none, except for potential cavities from the sweetness.

a/n: this was the brain child of a post that i made thirsting over azriel wearing a chain & rings. someone commented on that post and suggested i incorporate that into this series. and here we are. probably my favorite piece of writing that i've done so far, ok. i'm simple. pining azriel makes me weak. enjoy! <3

read part one & two

you clutched the tiny, wrapped gift box in your hands, your fingers moving to glide along the cobalt blue silk bow adorning the lid.

you felt jittery, nervous. butterflies had taken flight throughout your chest and belly, relentless wings swirling.

you supposed this gesture wouldn't strike azriel as odd, or out of left field. after all, the male had been going out of his way for you for months.

his warm, kind gestures toward you as he sat next to you during your first dinner at the house of wind - you'd been so petrified, but he took you under his wing (literally). the kind, soft eyes he'd given you. he'd served your plate, giving you hushed anecdotes about each dish so you could choose what you'd wanted to indulge in. you hadn't admitted it, but you only chose to try azriel's favorite foods.

then, the sweater. he'd given you one of his oversized sweaters to snuggle into. you'd mentioned to him one time that you often froze, no matter the weather conditions, and he'd somehow remembered that detail - presenting you with the best solution he could muster. now that you knew him a bit better, you weren't sure if he'd actually remembered you admitting how cold you always were, or if that fact was just something he was able to observe himself. he was the spymaster, after all. maybe you were just easy to read.

if you were to actually ask azriel, he'd say that he remembered every word you'd ever spoken. every detail, every slight reaction. and it wasn't because it was his job to do so - wasn't because rhys had ordered him to watch over you seven months ago upon your arrival to the house of wind. no, you no longer needed his watchful eye. you were settled in, comfortable, part of the family.

he remembered the words you spoke because he hung onto every word that left your lips.

today, you sat in that favorite armchair of yours in the private library on the third floor - as always. you glanced over to the large shelf closest to you, a smile slowly spreading across your lips as you took in the romance books neatly lined before you. the romance books that azriel had removed from an obscenely tall shelf that was completely unreachable. to you, at least - unless you felt like scaling the entire thing.

he was so observant. he'd noted your favorite genre, remembered that you struggled to reach that row of books. took time out of his day to rearrange the entire left side of the library in favor of making you more comfortable. and now, here you sat. your favorite novels within arm's reach at any given moment, all because of this achingly kind male.

yes, he deserved this gift. he'd done so much, you wished you were able to bestow him with more. you were wearing his sweater again today, but this one was different. he's since presented you with four more sweaters from his closet, although he hadn't grown less bashful about offering them over to you - even though your reaction is always the same. blushing, bright eyes staring up at him in wonder as you grip the fabric and hold it to your melting heart.

and azriel, he revels in those moments. he can't help the sense of pure pride that warms his entire body from the inside out. he couldn't stop doing things for you if he tried, your smile and twinkling eyes circulating throughout his bloodstream like the first hit of a drug so strong, it threatened to bring him to his knees.

you took a deep breath, eyes flitting towards the elegant grandfather clock to your left. he'd normally stroll into the library around this time each day, joining you to read in silent, comfortable companionship.

and, like clockwork, that feisty, stray tendril of shadow that you'd come to love twirled through the crack in the wooden double doors with a flourish. it darted straight towards you, as it always did - worrying over you for a moment each time it found you. you'd imagined it was giving you a general once-over to make sure you were safe and content. it was much like its master in that regard.

the shadow looped through your fingers and hands, taking notice of the gift box that was sitting on your lap. it focused its attention there momentarily, swirling through the silky bow that matched the color of azriel's siphons - a detail you'd hoped he didn't find weird.

azriel made his appearance a second later, pushing through the doors with a book held under his arm. he moved with so much grace, despite his tall, muscular frame. he was astonishing to watch, even if the action was something completely mundane. tearing your eyes from him sometimes felt impossible, the allure he possessed was almost suffocating - but in the sweetest way.

he didn't even try to hide the fact that his sights were set on you immediately. he used to give a sweeping glance of the entire space before he allowed himself to find you, but now, he looked for you first - and you were always there. he felt any lingering tension within his body melt into the floor beneath him.

"hey, you," you spoke tenderly towards him, and the smile that he gave you made your chest warm.

he approached you, as he always did, unable to stay too far away. his eyes raked down your torso, never tiring of the feeling of seeing you in his clothing.

"i think this one is my favorite on you," he noted, eyes turning to molten honey as he took you in.

you preened at this, making a mental note to don this particular sweater a little more than the others.

"i, uh, i have something for you," you started, extending the small gift box towards him. now you knew how he felt, waiting to see if you'd accept the items of his clothing each time he presented you with them. you held your arm out without wavering, even though you felt a bit silly now.

his cheeks tinted a light shade of pink, and he studied the box in your hand for a moment. it wasn't lost on him that you'd chosen a bow that was the exact color of his blazing siphons. he felt his heart lurch against his ribcage at the realization.

"it's just a little something," you started again, voice woven with a nervous undertone at his continued silence. "i wanted to thank you for being so kind to me since i've arrived," you cleared your throat. "you've really made this place feel like ... like a home," you finished, giving him a shy, tentative smile. he could tell by the look in your eyes that you were pleading with him to accept it. you didn't have to beg him - well. maybe he'd like that, in other circumstances. however, not now, not for this.

a small smile spread across his lips at your last words. a home. he'd made someone feel like they were home, and that was enough of a gift for azriel. several times since meeting you, he'd felt as though his heart was swelling uncontrollably, growing beyond the confines of his chest. like you were somehow nurturing and tending to it. this was one of those times.

he reached a scarred hand towards the box, taking it from you gently. "y/n," he traced the bow with his fingers, slowly tugging the ribbon apart. "you really, really didn't have to do this. i just wanted you to be comfortable here, with us," he flicked his soft eyes towards yours, and you were doing that thing you did when you were nervous - fiddling with your fingers. he wanted to grab your hands then, run his lips along your knuckles, kiss each fingertip slowly. i will love it no matter what it is, he thought to himself, please don't be so nervous.

you dipped your chin at his words, huffing a small, breathy little laugh. "well, i am, az. comfortable here. with you," you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and azriel trembled with the urge to gently place the delicate gift box aside in favor of gently tugging your delicate body towards his instead.

he took a deep breath then, composing himself, as he lifted the lid from the box. inside was a custom-made, silver curb link chain. one that was long enough to rest right in the middle of his clavicle. small, glimmering cobalt blue stones were hand-set throughout - only able to be seen when the light hit them a certain way. but when the light did hit them, they were stunning. the surface of the gems danced with the fragments of light as though they were on fire, alive.

this made him think of you: the light that found his shadows, setting him aflame.

his breath caught in his throat, and he lifted the chain from the silk pillow that it rested on. he loved it. absolutely, wholeheartedly, loved it. it was powerful-looking, strong. the best gift he ever remembered receiving.

now, you'd be lying if you said this present wasn't also - maybe, sorta kinda - for your benefit. his strong, tanned neck hugged by a silver chain? gods. okay, yeah, this was slightly indulgent on your part.

but, in your defense, azriel had begun sporting silver signet rings on several of his elegant fingers. you thought a similarly-fashioned chain would tie the look together nicely. this was just a product of your own observant nature. really, that's all it was.

...

azriel let out an exhale of astonishment, meeting your eyes with widened ones of his own.

"this, is - i mean. beautiful. this is - thank you," he breathed out, setting the now-empty box, and the book he'd been cradling under his arm, down beside you. he gently began working at the clasp of the chain, his movements so careful, you could tell he was trying his hardest not to break it - ruin it.

you stood up before him, taking a step so that you were right in front of his towering frame. "here," you whispered, tenderly taking the chain from his hands. you unclasped it with ease, standing on your tip-toes to reach behind his neck - wanting to place it on him. he ducked his head for you politely, allowing you to see what you were doing a bit better.

you were so close to him, and with his head ducked down towards you, his chin was nearly resting on your shoulder. you fought every instinct within your body that was screaming at you to move closer, breathe deeper, inhale his scent, touch him.

but you didn't. you held your composure, clasping the necklace around his neck - making sure to be careful of his wings.

azriel had his eyes closed, also fighting similar urges of his own. he wanted so badly to rest his face within the crook of your neck, wrap his arms around the middle of your back, tug you into him.

two lovesick idiots, silently pining for the other.

necklace now adorning his neck, you stepped back. azriel stood to his full height once more, and he peered down at you with a gaze that he fought to keep friendly - instead of one that screamed complete adoration.

"well," he croaked out, swallowing thickly. your eyes darted to the movement, watching his adam's apple bob beneath the silver jewelry.

you were fucked.

"how's it look?", he continued, his hand reaching towards his neck to trace the smooth, curbed chain.

it was your turn to swallow hard, which of course, he noticed. he fought a smirk, especially when he witnessed your cheeks growing hot.

you pursed your lips together, trying your best to think of a response that wasn't akin to a dog barking.

"it's -," you sighed thoughtfully, smiling warmly up at him, "you look very handsome," you stated playfully, hooking a finger underneath the chain, tugging him towards you lightly.

he faltered for a moment, almost stumbling into you. not because of your light tug, but because of your words. handsome. he loved that compliment - was one of his favorites. however, the one bit of praise that always sent him to his knees was being called pretty.

"so pretty, az," you whispered again, seemingly more to yourself than to him, eyes caught on his neck.

okay, so now azriel was fucked.

a/n: okay, i think this was my favorite installation of this series so far. i'm giggling and kicking my feet, and i'm the one writing it lmfao. azriel is making me WEAK, i need to lay down now. let me know what you think! thank you for reading <3

tag list: @stressed-reader @vhjlucky13 @scarsandallaz @victory-salads @weirdo-fun @topaz125 @mrsjna @lovegoodlunaa @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @luna9876 @kennedy-brooke

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[yesihaveaobsession]

What is Love?

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Alastor consumes a love potion and becomes in love with the reader (you)

Warnings: Al is very touchy.

A/N- RAHH 🇺🇲🔥 Happy Fourth of July y'all!! To the ones who do celebrate! Consider this a gift <3

Where to start? Alastor wasn't paying attention to what was in his 'oh dear' mug. The last time he checked, there was deer blood, but the next thing he knew, a shiver went down his spine, and everything was all lovey-dovey, especially when he looked at you. His "soul mate." He thought you were a goddess; he saw you in a new bright light. He felt like all his darkness that was held within him, the weight that was on his shoulders were suddenly lifted he had a love potion.

You were totally oblivious and were reading a book in the foyer on the couch. It was a literature classic "The Great Gatsby" You honestly forgot you had it and decided to read it again. That's when he walked into the room over to you with the biggest smile. You didn't pay attention because he was stealthy, your eyes continue to move from left to right.

“Ah, there you are, my dear!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic giddiness. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

You looked up from your book, surprised to see Alastor acting so…enthusiastic. “Oh, hi Alastor. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is perfect now that I’ve found you,” he declared, taking a seat beside you, perhaps a bit too close for comfort. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were now soft and filled with an intense adoration that made your heart skip a beat.

“Are you feeling okay?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

“Never better!” he replied, his grin widening. “In fact, I’ve never felt more alive. Tell me, darling, what are you reading?” He leans in closer, looking at the book. Showing him the cover and it to be "The Great Gatsby." Although he's heard of it, he wanted to hear you talk. So you were explaining its plot briefly. Alastor listened intently, hanging on to every word as if it were the most fascinating story he’d ever heard. His behavior was both endearing and slightly alarming.

“Alastor, are you sure you’re not sick or something?” you pressed, noticing the unusual flush on his cheeks. You placed your hand on his forehead, feeling to see if he was warm or not.“I assure you, my dear, I am in perfect health. In fact, I think I might be…in love.”

What did he just say? Love? Alastor is in love with you? Your eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m hopelessly, madly in love with you.” That would explain why he was acting weird, but this wasn't just madly in love with you. You put two and two together. His eyes lighter, a lighter and brighter red. You could've sworn you saw practically hearts in his eyes when you were explaining the book. He was under a love spell. But how.

You knew he probably wouldn't tell you so you would have to love it over. So you turned your body to face him, and he was watching your every move. You placed your book aside and scooted closer to him, your eyes softening as you gazed into his. Slowly, you raised your hand and gently cupped his cheek. “Alastor,” you said sweetly, “you’re so wonderful. But I can’t help but wonder, what brought this on?”

Alastor's expression, along with his smile, turned dreamy. As he leans into your touch, his eyes hald- lidded. “Oh, my dear, it’s as if the universe itself conspired to bring us together.”

You smiled, your fingers lightly tracing his jawline. “That sounds so magical. But surely, there must be something that sparked this, don’t you think?” That's when Charlie and Vaggie walked in, and they turned into shock.

You sigh and look over at them embarrassed, you say."Alastor is under some type of love potion. I don't know how, but he's in... love with me." You say the last few parts slowly.

"Oh. um." Charlie said as she looked at Alastor practically in your lap and his face inches away from yours.

"I'm trying to love it out of him." Turning your attention back over to him and turned on your charm. He sighed blissfully, his resistance melting under your affectionate gaze. “Well, if you must know, I did come across a rather interesting potion earlier…”

Your heart skipped a beat. "Where did you find it."

"At Rosies."

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Can you show me where it is? I’d love to see it.”Alastor shivered at your proximity; his resolve completely undone. “Of course, my love. Anything for you.” He poofted it, and it appeared in his hand held empty.

That's when it started to ware of and he realized how close he was to you and he pulled away, trying not to show how embarrassed he was.

"Are you alright?" You ask. He stood from the couch straightened out his jacket and his bowtie and tuned back over to you keeping his hands on the flaps of his jacket.

"My apologies, my dear, now if you excuse me, I have some tasks that have to be done." He turned into his black shadow and disappeared. You, Charlie, and Vaggie look at each other loss of words. Alastor was seen in his Radio Tower. A part of that wasn't just the potion he actually had feelings, but he wasn't going to let you know.

He wasn't going to let you know that he knew it was a love potion and he was the one who put it in his deer mug. It wasn't just a dream. It was realer than ever.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 - hwang hyunjin x gn!afab reader

wc: 5.3k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: casual sex w no strings attached, reader is afab but no gender-specific language/pronouns are used, background reader x minho, smut warnings under the cut.

synopsis: it was well established now that you were fucking your way around the frat. you hadn't intended to make hyunjin your next victim, but when you end up alone together, it seems like the perfect opportunity.

a/n: part four of our fratboy series, hot bitch summer!!! i really hope you all enjoy this bc i'm completely in love with our sweet, sensitive, artsy, pervy fratboy hyunjin <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: swearing, nude painting and photography, mutual masturbation, cumswapping, casual sex, a little bit of bickering, mentions of male x male sexual activity, very poetic descriptions of many types of genitals, hyunjin is a pervy little boy but still very lovely.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn't know if you'd ever seen the frat house this quiet. Even with the red solo cups littering the coffee table, hoodies and shirts strewn over furniture, clear remnants of a recent rager, the place was almost peaceful. That was probably because it was mostly empty, though. Minho and Felix were helping out at the dance studio they frequented, Chan and Changbin were at the gym. Jisung was napping, which contributed to most of the peace and quiet. Jeongin was away visiting family, and you had no idea where Seungmin was - that man remained a mystery.

Hyunjin, however, was lounging on the couch in the lounge, sketchbook in his arms. It appeared that he would be your target for tonight. You leaned on the back of the sofa, looking over the boy's shoulder. "What are you drawing?"

Hyunjin yelped, clutching his sketchpad to his chest. "Jesus, Y/N! You scared the life out of me. I didn’t even know you were here tonight."

You couldn't help but laugh at the absolute terror that had flashed in his eyes when he looked back at you. You really hadn't meant to ambush him - honestly - but it had been entertaining nonetheless. "Sorry, Hyunjin," you apologised, not sounding very sorry at all. You reached over his shoulder and tapped his book. "Can I see?" 

"Um. No." He clutched the notebook closer to his chest. “Not this one.”

You rested your forearms on the back of the couch, leaning next to him. "How come? Are you shy?" 

"I'm not shy." He was looking ahead, but you didn't need to see him. You could hear the eye-roll in his voice. 

"Show me then!" you insisted, prodding his shoulder gently.

"This one is private, okay?"

"Private?" You fake-gasped. "Hyunjin, are you drawing dirty things? Are you a porn artist?"

"What? No!" He squirmed at the accusation.

"You're drawing nasty things, aren't you Hyunjin! It's not hentai, is it? Tentacle porn?" In all honesty, you wouldn't have cared, or judged him at all. But it was funny to play with him.

“Obviously not! I’m not Jisung.”

You snorted at his quip. “Okay, well… are there any drawings I can see?”

He pondered for a moment. “I guess so. You really wanna see?”

“Of course.” You knew Hyunjin was studying fine art, and you were aware that he spent the majority of his time in the makeshift art studio he called a bedroom, but you hadn’t really seen much of his work.

When he led you up there, you immediately understood why he’d want to spend his hours here. It was a cosy respite from the chaos that so regularly consumed the rest of the house. Strings of fairy lights came alive at the touch of a button, casting a warm glow on the space. An easel sat in the corner of the room, and most surfaces were lightly cluttered with various art supplies; notebooks, paintbrushes, pencils, as well as a few completed works. There was a vase of what looked like lavender; you breathed in and the scent confirmed it, sweet and gentle. 

“Take a seat,” Hyunjin murmured, before rifling through a pile of books. He tossed one into your lap as you sat on his bed, although you were a bit more preoccupied with watching him move around the room. He did everything so elegantly, despite his extra-long limbs; it wasn’t hard to tell he was a dancer. He sifted through a box of records, his fingers flipping through them deftly, before setting up a pale blue record player. You turned your attention to the book in your lap.

It seemed to be full of off-handed sketches. They were absolutely gorgeous, but you could tell he’d done them absent-mindedly as he observed the world around him. There was one of Felix and Jisung, cuddling on the couch. A sight you’d seen many times before, you had no doubt it had turned to play-fighting before Hyunjin had even finished his drawing. You flipped the page. A sketch of Changbin curling a weight, his bicep bulging - if Hyunjin had followed the man to the gym just to observe and draw him, you truly understood. You couldn’t help but gasp, as you turned the page once more. You and Minho, standing in the kitchen together, his arms wrapped around you as you beamed. You remembered the moment. He’d been attempting to make lunch, but you’d been rather successful at distracting him.

“Hyunjin, these are so beautiful,” you told him honestly, your heart swelling at the charm with which he captured such everyday moments.

He thanked you, looking a little bashful.

You took a break from flipping through his drawings to survey him for a moment.. He was different when he was sober. Most of the time you'd spent with him, he was near-blackout drunk - utterly white-girl wasted. He was the life of the party, really. Loud, giggly, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Maybe he was just one of those people who took some time to warm up to someone, you considered. You didn't doubt this, but beyond that… 

He just seemed so gentle. So sensitive, so sweet.

"You're… not the typical fratboy, are you?" 

Hyunjin looked over at you from the other side of the room. His eyes were so round, so innocent-looking. "What do you mean?"

You paused, choosing your words carefully. "You're just so lovely, Hyunjin." He blushed, looking away from you and resuming what he was doing - lighting a candle? - but he didn't speak. "Some of the other boys… great guys, don't get me wrong. But they have such fuckboy energy. Not you, though, Hyunjin. You're so sweet."

"Hmm," he hummed, appearing to think on your words. "I guess so. But…" he trailed off.

"But?" you asked. "I don't believe there's a but. Not with you, Hwang Hyunjin." 

His voice was barely above a whisper, hardly louder than the scratching of his pencil. "I'm still a man, Y/N."

You blinked. "Well, I've noticed that." 

Hyunjin shifted uncomfortably. "I'm just saying… men are all the same. Even if some seem nicer."

You placed the book on his bed, your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out what the fuck he was trying to say. "What are you getting at, Hyunjin?" 

"Don't judge a book by its cover, okay? Let's leave it at that." 

You hummed. "I don't want to leave it at that. I feel like you're hiding something now, and I wanna know what it is." Hyunjin stayed quiet, although you saw his jaw tense, noticed his cheeks redden. "So, if I shouldn't judge a book by its cover… does that mean you're not the sweet, kind, artsy boy I thought you were?"

"Well, no. I am those things. I'm just… other things, too."

“Other things?” you asked. You watched him light another candle. The cogs in your brain turned a mile a minute, trying to read the situation. The fairy lights, the candles, the record turning quietly. It all felt so sensual. He wasn’t trying to set the mood, was he? In all fairness, the boys had been constantly joking about how you were fucking your way around the whole frat. And it wasn’t even really a joke. You decided to test the waters. “Hyunjin, do you mean… you’re a little dirty?”

He paused for a moment. “I suppose so.”

“You’re a horrible pervy man? Who brought me up to his room to have his way with me?”

Hyunjin jumped. “What? No! I brought you up here to hang out. And look at my drawings. I’m not trying to take advantage of you!” 

You partly believed him. You chuckled. “What if I like dirty pervy boys, though?”

“Fine,” Hyunjin mumbled. He picked up the book he had been drawing in downstairs, a plain black, very nondescript sketchpad. He brought it to you, dropping it in your lap before going to the chair by his easel, sitting down and looking away from you. You looked at him expectantly, but soon realised you weren’t going to get anything more from him. 

You shrugged and opened up the book.

Oh. He really was a dirty boy.

You'd never in your life seen such a varied array of vulvas. Drawings, paintings, doodles. Shaved, trimmed, hairy. Innies, outies. Small, button-like clits, more enlarged ones. He didn't seem to discriminate at all - the man was pussy-obsessed. You flipped through a few pages, admiring the pussies like a field of flowers. Hyunjin's non-vagina art was beautiful, but he'd clearly found his calling here. 

“So you are a porn artist?”

Hyunjin glared at you. “It’s not porn,” he said scornfully. “It’s art.”

"But, you must watch a ton of porn? For research?" The air quotes you put around research earned you a scathing gaze.

"I don't watch porn at all," Hyunjin stated with a roll of his eyes. "And ninety-nine percent of the time, when guys say that it's a lie. But I'm the one percent, promise. I mainly use erotic photography, for references. Or paint from memory."

"From memory? You must be some kinda pussy expert." 

"Well, you're a dick expert, from what I've heard," Hyunjin murmured, just a little too loud to be under his breath. 

You couldn't help but cackle. "God, you're a bitch." 

Hyunjin smirked, before reassuring you, "I'm not judging, by the way. By all means, keep going."

"Thank you for giving me your permission, Hyunjin."

"Not what I meant and you know it." 

You shrugged, and returned to flipping through the book. "I like this one," you mumbled. The model's legs were parted, dainty fingers spreading their labia. Stretch marks streaked across their inner thighs, pubic hair wild and untamed. These drawings, they were all so real. It made you wonder what you'd look like, through his eyes. How would he draw your lips, what would your clitoris look like sketched out by his hand? How would he look, as he painted your most intimate area? Would he study you closely? Would he lick his lips in concentration, would he peer at you as he tried to envision how you felt, tasted, smelled? Would he touch himself, later, thinking about what's between your legs?

You decided to cut to the chase. 

"Have you ever had a live model before?"

Hyunjin looked like he was about to combust. He looked at you, mouth agape, and you could tell he was trying to determine whether he'd heard you correctly. "I've… I've never had the opportunity." 

You smiled at him sweetly. You loved the way he made you feel as though you were bestowing a blessed opportunity upon him. You had blown his mind with the mere implication that you might let him see you naked. 

"Do you want a live model?"

He nodded, still looking absolutely bewildered that you'd even offer. You didn't know why he was so surprised - you didn't exactly have a representation as a prude. You had openly fucked three of his friends in the last week, and here he was, utterly mystified by the idea of simply looking at your pussy.

You laughed at him, gently. "C'mon then, artist. Get your easel."

"Right - yeah. Let me just - get everything set up." 

Hyunjin turned, and you saw how hurried his actions were as he rooted through drawers, gathering his supplies. You supposed you'd better get yourself ready, too.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he told you, raking through a box of pencils.

"I want to." God, you really did. The rumours were true; you were, in fact, looking to conquer the entire fraternity. 

Hyunjin picked up his easel from the corner of the room, and finally turned back to you. "Oh. You're… naked."

You looked up at him from the bed, where you perched on the edge with your legs crossed. "Well. You're painting my pussy." 

He looked absolutely lost. "I didn't expect to see your… I didn't know you'd take your shirt off." 

You chuckled. "What am I, Winnie the fucking Pooh? Anyways, I didn't think you'd be so surprised by nudity, given the fact you draw genitals as a hobby." 

Hyunjin merely nodded, before setting the canvas on the easel and spreading numerous pencils and what looked like oil pastels on a small table beside it.

"Hey, Hyunjin. Look at me for a second." He did, hesitantly. "Relax a little, okay? It's all fine." 

He nodded again. "I know." He didn't sound sure. He was clearly nervous, which was understandable. But you wondered what it was, exactly, about the situation that was stressing him. Was he overthinking whether this would lead to sex? He wanted it, you could tell. Surely he knew that you wanted it too? Maybe you'd need to make your intentions clearer.

You sat quietly as Hyunjin worked. He brought a small lamp over, positioning it beside the bed. You watched as he tied his hair into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, gathering a few strands that had escaped and tucking them behind his ears. He was so pretty, even when he wasn't all dolled up.

"Okay," Hyunjin breathed. "Ready when you are." 

"Where do you want me?" you asked, and yet again, he looked ready to explode.

"Anywhere's fine. As long as I can see it - you." He cleared his throat. "As long as you're comfortable. That's the most important thing."

You leaned back on your elbows, and slowly spread your legs. Hyunjin looked upon you, mesmerised. His eyes were sparkling. This was how a man would look at a work of art, Michelangelo's David perhaps. This was how a man would gaze out across Nepal, having reached Everest's peak. This was how a man would look upon a real, honest-to-god miracle, a biblically accurate angel come to deliver the news that he is the messiah. That was how Hwang Hyunjin looked at a pussy. God, he really was a perv.

After minutes of scrutiny, during which you'd never felt so fucking visible, he turned to the easel and began his sketch.

He spoke up again, after a few minutes of working. “I don’t mean to overstep, but…”

“You just spent at least three straight minutes staring directly into my vagina,” you stated. “Say whatever you wanna say.”

“What’s actually going on between you and Minho?”

You wished you knew how to answer that. “I guess it’s hard to explain. We haven’t really discussed anything properly.” You thought for a few moments. “I’m sleeping around, obviously, but at the end of each day, I go back to him. That’s all there is to it, really.” 

He peered over at you, curious. “So, it’s true then?”

You looked back at him. “What?”

“You’re sleeping your way around the frat?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And you’re having fun?”

“Well, obviously. You’re all hot as fuck,” you admitted outright. 

Hyunjin nodded. “I get it. We’re a pretty fun group of guys to fuck. You haven’t fucked Seungmin yet, right?”

You blinked at him. “No. Not yet… to be honest, I don’t know if Seungmin’s even interested.”

Hyunjin waved a hand at you, dismissing your concerns. “Seungmin’s just like that, don’t worry. Anyways, look forward to it - that’ll be a fun one.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. That seemed like a strange thing for a man to say about his friend. Unless… “You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Hyunjin.”

“Duh,” Hyunjin said, as if it was obvious. “You said it yourself, we’re all hot as fuck. Most of us fuck around with each other, from time to time. It’d be a wasted opportunity if we didn’t, really.”

You took a moment to absorb this. You couldn’t believe neither Felix nor Jisung had ever mentioned this to you. Traitorous bastards. They’d been fucking around with their stupid hot friends this whole time, and hadn’t even invited you to watch, or join? They were sick in the head, both of them.

You went quiet, letting Hyunjin sketch. 

There were many beautiful things in this world. Sensual, erotic, carnally beautiful things. The curve of an erection, the tightly-wound curls at its base, heavy hanging balls which almost looked like a heart, when caught in the right position. But this? Hyunjin, leaning over his easel, chewing on his lip as he deliberated over the perfect way to capture you on page. This was something else. This was beauty redefined.

It occured to you that it was impossible to hide anything from him. This took wearing your heart on your sleeve to a new level. He was privy to every one of your desires; he'd see liquid arousal drip from your hole, he'd watch as your clit slowly swelled. And if he took a moment to look away from your pussy (although he was so completely entranced that you didn't know if he'd be capable of it) he may even notice your nipples hardening, your pupils blown out with desire. He'd see just how much you wanted, needed him.

Although, by the looks of it, he was starting to get rather needy himself. His sweatpants were tented, though he was clearly trying to hide it, forearm draped over his crotch. You watched intently, trying to gain as much intel as you could from your obscured view. It looked big - that was about all you could gather.

"Maybe you should just take those off," you chanced. 

Hyunjin looked at you, surprised.

"Your trousers. They look like they're getting a little uncomfortable. And maybe it'd be less weird if we were both naked anyways?" 

Hyunjin put his pencil down, giving you an accusatory look. "You just want to see me naked." 

You grinned brazenly. "Obviously."

Hyunjin laughed. "You are so shameless. Fine, have it your way." 

Satisfied, you watched as he pulled off his shirt. Vast planes of tanned skin revealed themselves to you, and you fought not to drool. He was far from the muscular beast Changbin was, but he was surprisingly toned. Curved biceps, lightly defined abs, sweet little pecs with the loveliest pink nipples. So many places to kiss, lick, suck. And that was before he'd even taken his trousers off. 

He stood, and as he tugged down his trousers, you could've sworn that his dick sprung back up with enough force to knock you out. You kind of wanted it to knock you out. It had a beautiful curve to it, not quite as thick as some that you'd seen recently - your mind flitted back to Changbin and his coke-can cock - but it was still undoubtedly long enough to ruin your pussy. And so fucking pretty. Your eyes scanned him slowly; the tip was the prettiest shade of pink, the long smooth shaft, the perfectly round, clean-shaven balls. He was perfect.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, snapping you out of your staring. He didn't meet your gaze, but you could tell he wasn't too shy. He knew how beautiful he was, and he was used to people staring. 

You simply smirked at him. "Keep drawing, boy." 

You felt your clit begin to throb - you couldn’t help it. You burned under his gaze each time he looked back at you studiously. You knew what Hyunjin was like, with his art. Although you were both clearly desperate, he would continue drawing for hours, putting off the inevitable pleasure that you both craved, in pursuit of his next masterpiece before he let you both indulge. If you wanted his touch, you would have to intervene.

It took him a surprising amount of time to notice that you were stroking your clit. He was peering at the canvas, eyes narrowed. You could tell he took his craft seriously. It was admirable, but incredibly frustrating when you needed him to just turn his head ever so slightly.

"Oh."

There it was.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at you with a blank stare. He looked you in the eyes, rather than in the crotch. 

"Enjoying the view," you repeated, inserting a finger and spreading the wetness across your clit.

Hyunjin turned back to the canvas, apparently unperturbed, but you saw his dick twitch. You had him. You continued to circle your clit gently, letting out a soft moan as you did so.

Hyunjin snickered under his breath. "Screw you," he whispered, his hand wrapping around his length gently. Still, though, he didn't stop drawing. You watched as he stroked himself, torturously slow, head slowly disappearing into his fist before reappearing once more, all the while leaning over the easel.

And you'd thought Minho had been a master of restraint. Hyunjin was different, though. He wasn't hiding how much he needed this. He was perfectly happy to show you his rock hard, leaking cock. More than happy to jerk off languidly before you. But he was also making it clear that he wasn't going to rush into anything. He'd sit there and paint all night, if you let him.

Of course you wouldn't let him. 

"Oh, put the fucking pencil down." 

He met this with less resistance than you expected, and didn't hesitate, even for a moment. "Fine, but I really do want to finish this painting soon." He turned in his seat to face you, fucking into his fist as he watched you.

You shuddered under your own touch, fingers swiping over your bundle of nerves and sending jolts throughout your body. Your pleasure felt so heightened, as you watched the man before you. His hands were gorgeous, veins popping out as he stroked himself, long fingers wrapped around his member. His balls swung gracefully as he did so - how did he do everything with such elegance?

You thought about how he might feel inside you. His dick was so long, you knew he’d hit all the spots you needed him to. You knew he’d be princely and refined, even while fucking you. Even when he reaches his peak, when cum spurts out of that gorgeous pink tip, even if he lost his composure… he’d do it with poise.

You could hardly take it any more. “I need you, Hyunjin.”

“But I’m having so much fun watching,” he said, his voice hoarse - he sounded so fucked out already. 

You groaned. “You’ll have more fun fucking me, and you know it.”

Hyunjin grinned as he shook his head, but showed no resistance. “C’mere, baby,” he murmured, his long, slender fingers gripping you by the hips and dragging you towards the edge of the bed. “You ready for it?”

“More than ready, fuck, please.”

Hyunjin pushed the tip of his dick inside you, ever so slowly. You sighed happily; there was that feeling you craved. Centimetre by centimetre, he entered you deeper, gradually filling you up more and more. Eventually, when his hips ground into yours, when he was fully buried inside you, he let out the sweetest whine you’d ever heard. 

You couldn’t help but grin at the sound. “That feel good, pretty boy?” 

He nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he fixated on the feeling. The slow pace was agonising, the drag of his cock against your g-spot positively electric. He was fucking you as if it was an art form, as if his dick was a paintbrush and you were his canvas. And, fuck, he was a master of his craft.

“Legs up, baby. I need to get deeper.” His voice was low, strained. You did as he instructed, hooking your ankles over his shoulders. “God, that’s good.”

Had anyone ever fucked you this deeply before? You weren’t sure. Although, to be fair, you weren’t certain you knew your own name, at that point. All you could see were stars, and the angel of the man above you. He pulled himself all the way out, until the head of his dick was barely inside you, before plunging back inside, slowly, slowly. Each time, he pressed up against your cervix, and it hurt, but fuck, it felt so good. 

The room was hot, the air heavy. Sweat was dripping from Hyunjin’s forehead and landing on your skin. You were consumed with his scent, lavender and fresh cotton, You were covered in him, you felt his touch on every inch of your body, surrounded by soft moans from both yourself and him.

His hands explored your body as he fucked you. They tasted your thighs, squeezing gently. They caressed your hips, your waist, your hips, your chest. He handled you so gently, treating you with the utmost care. You could picture him so clearly, manoeuvring a delicate statue, arranging flowers in a vase, manipulating clay on a pottery wheel. He treated you with the exact same respect and admiration.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece, babe.” He thrusted hard, but still so slow. “So fucking beautiful.”

Hyunjin looked down to the site where your bodies joined. He was enthralled, eyes fixated on the sight of himself disappearing inside you. 

“Can I - shit -” His hands were shaking slightly, as he caressed your stomach. “Can I get out my camera? Just - fuck - just to take some reference photos. I need to paint you over and over, please-” His words trailed off into a whine.

You nodded. “Of course.” 

He pulled out, and you gasped, feeling a sudden emptiness. 

“Hurry,” you whimpered, as he gathered his equipment. He returned to you, kneeling before you and capturing the sight before him. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, desperate to have him inside you once more. He didn’t leave you waiting too long fortunately, sliding his dick back inside you, snapping more photos as he did so, still moving at that lazy, unhurried tempo. It drove you crazy. It felt amazing, of course. He was hitting all the right places, sending shivers down your spine and spreading butterflies throughout your tummy. But with a dick that perfect, you wanted him to thoroughly destroy you.

“Put your fucking camera away and fuck me properly,” you urged him.

Hyunjin smirked down at you. “Minho wasn’t lying. You really do get bratty and impatient.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fucking rail me before I throw you on this bed and take things into my own hands.”

Hyunjin laughed, shaking his head as he put his camera safely on his desk. “Relax, hon, I’ll fuck you.” He returned to the bed, looming over you with a teasing smile. “Are you sure you’re ready? You sure you can take it?”

“So help me god, Hwang Hyunjin, if you don’t-”

Hyunjin swiftly cut you off, thrusting deep inside you. Your words trailed off into a high-pitched squeak. Sassy as he was, he did as he was told; he fucked you hard, pounding into you powerfully. One of his hands gripped your thigh, holding it close to him, the other tweaking your nipple, sending yet more bliss running through your system. 

“You’re so fucking tight, hon,” Hyunjin rasped. So you’d heard.

“Keep fucking me, Hyunjin - fuck me harder!” You gazed upon his slender frame, tanned skin glistening with sweat. Maybe it was just because he was fucking you so well, but you could’ve sworn he was a real live angel, an almighty being. No person was this beautiful - no human being fucked this well.

“Fuck, I don’t know how long I can last like this,” Hyunjin grunted. He had a dark look in his eye.

“Cum then,” you encouraged him, “Give me your cum, baby.”

He shook his head. “Not until you cum first.” What a gentleman.

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing gentle circles into it, the perfect amount of pressure. It was pushing you over the edge, embarrassingly quickly. You felt your heart rate rise, your skin begin to tingle. Your climax was approaching - you felt it throughout your whole body.

“Hyunjin - Hyunjin!”

“That’s it, baby, let go,” he coaxed you. 

“I’m cumming!” With your announcement, it crashed over you like a wave. It exploded out from your core, white heat shooting through your entire body, coursing through your veins. You distantly heard yourself babbling Hyunjin’s name, although you couldn’t say you were quite lucid enough to be aware of it. All you knew were the fireworks spreading from your pussy, sparks erupting, setting you alight. 

“You’re clenching around me so tight,” Hyunjin whined. “Shit - Y/N!”

He pulled out, gripping his dick at its base, crying out as he painted your pussy, shooting his cum across your folds. You watched intently as the hot white spurts landed on your clit, your lips, dripping down towards your asshole. 

“There we go, baby,” you sighed, catching your breath. 

Hyunjin kneeled before you, also panting with exertion. He leaned in, locking his eyes with yours before licking a gentle stripe across your clit. He hummed. “Tastes good. Wanna taste?” You nodded, wide-eyed. He delved in, licking and sucking, and you moaned at the sensation on your oversensitive parts. He sucked on your clit, swiped his tongue through your folds, spread your cheeks and licked at your asshole. You couldn’t help but squeal.

He stood, leaning over you and gripping your cheeks gently, forcing your mouth open. You stuck out your tongue compliantly, waiting for the salty substance to reach you. He allowed it to dribble from his tongue slowly, landing in your mouth. 

Hyunjin pulled away. “Don’t swallow. Stick out your tongue, let me see.” You complied, and he picked up his camera once more, snapping more shots of you. Your face, this time, rather than your genitals. “Fucking gorgeous,” he whispered.

He put the camera down. “You can swallow now - I know you want to.” He sat on the bed beside you, lounging back, and you cuddled into his side. You watched as he clicked through the photos he’d taken; your dripping wet pussy, his dick teasing your entrance, burying itself inside you. Cum dripping down your clit, decorating you. Your face, eyes hazy, looking beyond fucked-out, tongue coated in the tangy mix of Hyunjin’s cum and spit. 

“We should blow this one up and hang it in the hall,” Hyunjin remarked. 

You snickered weakly, tired as you slumped against the man. “You boys would like that, huh? You’re all obsessed with me.”

“And for good reason. I see what the hype is about.” Hyunjin kissed your forehead softly. It was so tender - this was a no-strings-attached hook-up, nobody was under any illusions here. But it seemed that everything he did, every action he carried out towards anyone, was so filled with love.

“Hype? What do you guys say about me, when I’m not here?”

“That would be telling,” Hyunjin responded slyly. “Let’s just say, you’ve gotten some pretty good reviews.”

You yawned. “That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Who’s next then, hm?” he asked.

“That would be telling,” you responded with a mocking tone. “I’m tired. You want me to stay here tonight, Hyune?”

“It’s okay, hon. Go crawl into Minho’s bed, he should be home soon.” 

You sat up, kissing Hyunjin’s pretty, plump lips. “Thank you for giving me a good time tonight, Hyunjin.”

He smiled. “Thank you for being my muse.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When Minho returned home to find you curled up in his bed, you were barely awake, but still hanging on to your consciousness.

“Hey there, sleepy.”

“Hey, Minho.”

He paused, looking at you, eyes narrowed. “I know that smile. Who have you been with tonight, then?”

You gave him a smug grin. “Guess.”

“Not Jisung again?” He got into bed beside you, looking amused as he wrapped his arms around your frame. “You haven’t even showered, babe. I can smell Hyunjin on you.”

“You’re so good at this game,” you said, your voice slurred with tiredness.

Minho pulled you closer, kissing your neck from behind and making you sigh contentedly. He pulled you closer, and you felt his length press into you from behind - was he getting hard, thinking about you and his friend together? Was he imagining fucking you, with the scent of Hyunjin’s sweat still marking your skin?

He whispered in your ear, confirming your suspicions. “Are you too tired for another round?” 

You turned around in his arms, eyes twinkling. “Never.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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[kaciebello]

 Bring a scythe to a sword fight

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: The reader is gradually suspicious, not believing Clarisse is the lightning thief  Warning: Angst?, no use of y/n authors note: Idk, I kinda blacked out writing this, sorry if it does not make sense. English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only :( Word count: 1.6k

Ever since Poseidon claimed Percy and he was moved to cabin 3, the camp became lonely. He eats at his own table, gets to choose his camp activities, and calls ‘ lights out ‘ whenever he feels like it. The other campers think he's a monster magnet now. Most people avoid him, and even Clarisse stays clear of him. Only 4 people in this camp don't seem to be afraid of him. Grover, they often pick strawberries together. Annabeth, who took it upon herself to teach him ancient Greek. Luke, who still gives him sword lessons, although they are now more of one-on-one sessions. And the girl Luke seems to have heart eyes for. She mostly hangs out around them when they are training. Such as now.

Luke, was not going easy on him, as always. But Percy was still on his feet, meaning he was improving. Or that is what he believed in before Luke managed to tap the back of his knee and make him fall. A frustrated groan leaves him when Luke's sword touches underneath his chin.

“Giving up?” Luke asks and moves the sword away, extending his hand to Percy. He takes it and gets up. Percy can't help but curse a little.

“Don't worry bubble boy, Castellan is just a show-off, you're doing great.” Says the girl, who was sitting on a rock this whole time, nose in some sort of book he did not recognize. Scoff leaves Luke as he puffs out his chest. Percy picks up his sword and turns his whole body to the girl.

“I'm not really sure of that.” He says, hesitant.

“Trust me, once you take on one of the other campers you'll be alright, Lukes is just hardcore when it comes to it.” She says, putting her book down and getting up, stretching her body.

“ How about we give Percy a break. Why don't you fight me? A little spar?” Luke says and walks to the girl, offering a sword to her. Her face twists in disgust and pushes it away. Laugh just leaves his friend before he turns to Percy in the fastest way possible.

“ She claims I'm hardcore, but the truth is, I've never seen her with a sword in her hand,” Luke says, smirking when he hears the girl scoff. Percy's eyes widen.

“You don't fight?” He peeps out, higher than he wanted to. She just shook her head.

“I'm a healer, I don't fight. And I certainly don't play with swords” She says and flicks her hand. Luke rolls his eyes when she sticks her tongue at him.

“How do you survive capture the flag?” Percy asks, he's still not sure he understands the game. He also notices his friend now sitting down and decides to sit down on the floor as well. She, again, shakes her head.

“ I don't play, I stay in the med tent.” She says sitting down next to Luke. Although to Percy it looked like Luke dragged her to him more. He wondered if he could also do that. Just not play. Although Luke probably wouldn't let him. Percy spaces out, not noticing the older campers sitting now a little bit close to anyone's liking, giggling. He also does not notice Annabeth heading their way. But in his defense, she could have been wearing her Yankee cap, he would not know. Her voice snaps him out.

Turns out she was not there to laugh at Percy's poor fighting skills, nor was she there to spy on his progress. Luke was needed, ‘counselor duties’ she said. Completely ignored the fact the other two campers there were technically counselors of their cabins too. Luke told them both he would see them at the bonfire and followed Annabeth back to the camp. Leaving the two forbidden kids alone.

“Ya know,” she says. “I could beat him.”

“What?” Percy turns to her.

“I could beat him up in a sword fight, I just chose not to.” She says getting up, and picking up her book. Percy just gives her a confused look and she sighs.

“ You could too, with time I mean.” She extends her hand to him and helps him up. “We are children of the big three, Percy. There is a reason why they promised to stop having us. You and I, by default, can be the strongest people here. Even someone like me can beat the best swordsman in the last 300 years in his own game. You just need time.” 

Till now Percy thought he was the only one. I did not accrue to him that she may understand. Now that he thinks about it, Percy can count on one hand that he has seen her interact with other campers, not counting Luke of course.  Percy now realized he wasn't alone in this lonely life of Poseidon's son. She is, kinda, his family now too.

—

“ We know who’s the lighting thief.” Says Percy on the other side of the Iris message. She and Luke were just in Chiron's office discussing what to the with the other campers, as they started to take sides.

“How do you know?” “Who?” They say simutainlusly. She looks at him weirdly for a second, thinking that that's not an appropriate question. Percy and Annabeth ramble about meeting Ares, he says something about Ares knowing who the lighting thief is and protecting him.

“ His favorite daughter. Clarisse is the lighting thief.” Luke finishes Percy's thought.

“Nonsense, Clarisse would not do that.” The girl defends her. She may not like the girl very much, but her being the lightning thief is ridiculous. Luke just gives her a pointed look and promises to tell Chiron. Percy turns to say more, but the iris message ends. Luke looks at her softer than he expected.

“ I don't think we should tell Chiron anything.” He says and takes her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and they swayed from side to side. Nodding in agreement.

“ If we go by their deductions, it could be anyone. I mean think about it. You would not be in the clear either. Who else than Hermes's son, the god of thieves, to steal the lighting bold.” She was just saying her thoughts out loud. However, Luke's hug tightens. He narrows his eyes and she can see the anger that shows up whenever someone mentions his father. 

“ I did not mean it li th-”

 “ Or you, who better than a daughter of Hades, someone who hates both Poseidon and Zeus.” Luke cuts her off. His eyebrow rose, wanting to see her reaction. She sighs and wraps her hands around his neck. Her comment was not meant to hurt him, but she knows she went overboard and decided to stay silent. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a bit. His eyes close for a minute. She went to play with the camp necklace hanging on his neck. When he opened his eyes again, the hatred was gone.

“Come on, I'm sure someone needs medical assistance.” He says and makes his way out of the office.

“The Apollo kids can do that.” She says but follows him nonetheless. A laugh escapes him. They stop at the outside porch. He turns to her with soft eyes, some would say lovesick one.

“Ya know, there is one thing I did steal,” he says. She just gives him a confused look. “ Your heart.” 

A smile spreads on his lips as she groans. He turns around and walks down the little porch. She stops him when he gets to the bottom.

“Luke.” He turns to her with a hum.

“Whose side are you on?” She asks him, looking down at him from the top of the stairs. He was hesitant to answer, so she continued.

“ Percy or Zeus?” He just smiles, takes her hand, and helps her down.

“ I don't side with gods.” He says.

—

Before Luke could strike Percy something blocked his sword. When he looks up he sees her. Before he can react, however, a dagger is thrown his way and he dodges it. Looking that way he sees Annabeth take off her cap. This is not how it was supposed to go. 

“Annabeth…” He breathes out. They were not supposed to be here. He was supposed to recruit Percy. He was gonna recruit them later.

The girl helped Percy up but kept him behind her scythe. Standing in the way of any danger that could come his way. When Luke turns to her, she points her scythe at him.

“Come on, sweetheart…” he tries, but by the look on her face, he can tell it is not gonna do anything.

“ You need to leave,” She says, her face hard as stone. Luke could not read a single emotion from her.  He tries to take a step to her but she swings her scythe at him. He blocks it with ease. He knows she does not want to fight. He knows that the swing was a warning, to keep him away. He knew she would never fight him.

So when he swings it does not come to his surprise she only defends herself. Never playing offense. To others, it may look like they were just dancing, old partners getting together for a spar. It was when Luke felt the wind from the portal he realized she moved him away from his original position. He knew that Annabeth and Percy would tell Chiron right away. She was allowing him to escape.

She stood in front of him. Scythe in a tight grip. Her eyes reminded him of a momma bear defending her cubs. With tears in his eyes, he turns around and leaps into the portal. In his mind, he promises to go back for all of them.

[cntloup]

house-husband!Nanami x fem!reader

fluff, mention of an injured animal, suggestive, mention of sex

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

sometimes when you return home from work, you catch him working out and you just stand there all giddy and giggly enjoying the view, his muscles flexing and sweat dripping down his skin. and soon you find yourself clenching your thighs together as your slick pools up, drenching your cute panties which will be ripped off soon.

he still maintains his work out routine to stay in shape just in case. he always considers every possible outcome in every situation, especially the worst case scenario. so he stays in shape in case shit hits the fan and he has to protect you.

although, he does let go to some extent after some persuasion on your part. you try to convince him that there's no danger and that he can finally relax now that he's quit.

and he finally gives in to your sweet words, letting himself grow a bit of pudge on his belly which you absolutely adore and find it sexy even though he doesn't believe you at first.

but after pouncing on him numerous times and giving his belly so much attention and love while riding him, he definitely believes you.

he picks up reading again after years of neglecting the mountain of books he had in the living room which you helped organize on the newly installed shelves.

he also finds an interest in writing, letting his deeper thoughts and feelings dribble down on the paper, sensing a lightness and serenity in letting go as the ink forms the words that have been sitting deep in his heart for years.

and soon after he finds his voice, he starts writing love letters to you which make you sob, laugh and giggle like a school girl even after years of living together. and you cherish all of them and keep them all safe in a cute vintage box.

he plays some classic music on the gramophone and you both dance around the living room without a care in the world, feeling safe and secure in each other's arms, away from all the hustle and bustle of the world.

on restless nights, you both curl up in each other's arms with a mug of tea in hand while he reads to you, his voice soft and soothing, the warmth of the tea and his embrace making you feel hazy as sleep takes over and he lays you down in bed with a soft kiss on your forehead and a whisper of "goodnight, my love."

one day on his morning walk around the neighborhood, he finds a wounded puppy, probably hit by a car and left alone to die. in an instant, his caretaker instincts kick in and he very gently and slowly picks up the puppy, barely the size of his palms.

"puppy!" you squeal out upon seeing the puppy when you walk in the living room and run towards the couch where the puppy is resting, catching Kento off guard. "you nearly gave me a heartattack, love." he says with a light chuckle. "sorry. it's just so cuteee!" you say in a squeaky voice as you pick it up and nuzzle your face against it. the scene before him makes his heart melt, thinking how lucky he is to have you as his wife.

he picks up playing the piano as well, taking lessons with the lovely old woman who lives two blocks away. but you have no idea. he wants it to be a surprise. so he makes the most of his time while you're away and practices the most beautiful sonatas to play for you, his beautiful wife.

date nights are frequent and you both have a strict schedule so that you wouldn't miss them at all. you receive a text from your dear husband which says 'pick you up from work. love you, sweetheart <3' which makes you giggle. even the smallest gestures from him make your heart melt.

and on that night, he serenades you with beautiful pieces like 'Clair de Lune' and 'Salut d'Amour', making you fall for him all over again. you cry and cling to him as you sit beside him while his fingers dance on the keys.

and he makes love to you, worshiping you as the goddess that you are. and you both shed tears as you feel overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through you, the sheer amount of love you feel for each other taking over you, profound and overpowering.

and when you miss your period, you know for sure why that is. and after you mention it to him, he's over the moon, absolutely excited about starting a family with you, albeit still nervous about becoming a father, but soon his mind is at ease after you so sweetly tell him that he'd be an amazing father.

[whenlilyfallsinlove]

jolene part 3

you guys the love for this series (which wasn't even meant to be a series!) is insane!!! tysm to everyone who has read it! tags for people who wanted a part 3: @girllety @simping4-2manyppl @penny-exe @hisparentsgallerryy @superxovas

"it's done. it's over." your voice interrupted remus from his book, after hearing your voice he looked up to see you. you looked.. dishevelled? and quite out of breath. that was probably because you had sprinted to the library as fast as you could, as you knew remus would be there.

ever since the night of the party, you had felt closer to remus. like he understood how you felt, more than james could for sure.

"you what?" remus responded. he was hoping you meant that you and james were done, but he scanned your face, and there were no signs of sadness, so surely you couldn't have meant that?

"me and james?" you said, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"WHAT?!" remus shouted, a bit too loudly, resulting in madame pince sending a dirty look your way. you were.. done? is it bad that his day had suddenly got better?

"yeah." you sigh, and take the seat beside him. you itched your chair close to him, probably so you didn't get kicked out of the library for speaking too loud. the closeness of the two of you, however, made remus' breath hitch.

"merlin.. are you.. are you okay?" he asked you, more quietly.

"i mean.. i suppose. i'm sad because i loved him but i was the one to break up with him.."

"you broke up with him?" remus interrupted, eyes widened.

"why is that such a surprise to you?" you teased.

"it's not it's not, sorry, carry on." he said frantically, a bit flustered.

"i told him.. that it was obvious that his heart wasn't with me.. and i didn't want to be in a relationship with someone like that." you recount.

"what did he say?" remus asked, he knew that he would probably get whatever james' perspective was later that night.

"he denied it, the tosser. we all know it's true. i even told him i wouldn't be mad about it!" you shake your head.

"i would be mad about it." remus said.

"yeah i would've been, but i wasn't going to tell him that." you chuckle.

"fair enough." he smiles at your laughter.

"then i.. i think i did something stupid.. i told him it'd be okay if he liked lily." you mutter.

"y/n, why on earth did you do that?" remus looked at you, exasperated.

"because!" you put your hands up, defensively. "i just.. i don't know, i'd feel better about it if we both moved on."

both moved on. both moved on. both. what did you mean by that? were you ready to move on? no surely, you couldn't be. if james moved on, would you? no no. wait. lily was one of your close friends, by giving james permission to like her, then maybe.. james would let him date you? a million thoughts ran through his head at once.

"well.." remus finally speaks, clearing his throat. "you're too nice for your own good."

for some reason, you felt your cheeks heat up. what was wrong with you? you broke up with your boyfriend a mere fifteen minutes ago, and now you were blushing at his best friend's compliments.

"thanks remus." you smile cheekily at him.

"it's alright, are you staying?" he asks you, almost hopeful.

"sorry remus, i can't, got a detention for "harassing malfoy"." you pull a face.

"i'll see you around though, thanks for always listening." you place a hand on his arm.

"it's uh n-no problem." he smiles, nervously.

"see you later!" remus watches you turn and leave, a small smile on his face.

~

it had been a couple of months since you had broken up with james, and you were at peace with it. although awkward at first, the two of you hesitantly became friends again.

at this moment in time however, your awkward friendship with james was the least of your worries. your favourite author had released a new book, and you were dying to buy it at hogsmeade.

the issue was.. literally no one could go with you.

"sorry y/n, i can't, quidditch training."

"sorry y/n, i'm studying."

"sorry y/n, i promised dorcas i would help her revise for the potions exam!"

the excuses were all too convenient. that left you with only on option left. not that you were complaining though, you had grown quite fond of the increase in time you were spending with remus. so much so, lily had accused you of fancying him again! something you had denied, with flustered cheeks. it did make you think though.

"remus?" you approached him in the common room, he was with sirius. james and peter were in a detention.. or something.

"y/n" he smiled at your presence.

"would you uhh.. want to go to hogsmeade with me?" you asked.

"oooooo" sirius teased, nudging remus.

"no- no not like that, i need to buy a new book.. and i don't want to go alone i just thought-"

"yeah, i'll go." he smiles at you.

"great, meet me here at 1pm tomorrow." you scurry off, feeling your cheeks burning.

oh my godric. you had a sneaky suspicion you were beginning to have a crush on remus.

"ugh lily!!" you faceplanted your bed, your head in your pillow, that night.

"i think you were right."

"of course, what about?" she smiles, teasingly.

"remus." you said, your voice muffled.

"what was that?" she asked.

"don't make me repeat it." you groan.

"no you can say it again!" she smiles.

"remus. i think i like him." you sigh.

"you're acting like that's a bad thing! remus is great." lily sits on your bed, where you were having your crisis.

"it's not.. he's james' best friend!" you groan.

"oh y/n.. that doesn't matter. james won't mind, your friends, aren't you? and you've been nice to him and gave him permission to date me. no idea why because it's never gonna happen! but still, he''ll understand." she reassures you.

"i don't know.." you trail off.

"y/n.. i think it's obvious remus likes you." lily pats your back.

"WHAT?!" your head shoots up.

"it's quite obvious isn't it.. whenever you're around he always has a massive smile on his face." she smiles at you.

you smile at her.

"I swear to godric if you're wrong-"

"I'm not. now tomorrow you need to get ready for your little hogsmeade date and-"

"it's not a date.. and.. how did you know about that??" you look at her, bewildered.

"i know everything." she winks at you, and you have a sneaky suspicion that tomorrow she was definitely not studying like she had said.

"fineeee you're the best though lily" you smile.

"you flatter me" she smiles back at you and you chuckle.

~

you admitted to yourself the next day you were nervous. you didn't even know why.. you were only buying a book. but still you had gone out the way to put extra effort into you hair, something that didn't go unnoticed by your dorm-mates.

"you look nice y/n, dressing to impress?" marlene teases you, as you made your way down to the common room.

"impress? who would i be impressing?" you playfully roll your eyes, and speed off, before anything else about the matter was said, to meet remus. he was sat, reading.

"remus?" you approached him; "you ready to go?"

"yes." he smiles at you, and gets up, following you out the castle.

"would you rather we walk or take the carriage?" he asks.

"walking would be nice." you respond.

he nods and you begin walking to hogsmeade, engaging in conversation.

eventually, you had arrived at hogsmeade. the bookshop was called "tomes and scrolls."

"would you like me to.. uh come in with you?" remus asks, blushing slightly.

"yes, thank you." you feel your face heat up.

he follows you into the shop, watching you pick up the book you so desperately wanted.

"i'll pay for it, if you want." he smiles at you.

"you don't have to." you splutter.

"but i want to y/n." his own confidence caught himself off guard.

"i insist you don't.. but maybe you could buy me a butterbeer instead?" you smile.

"like as in a date?" remus's breath hitched. you probably didn't mean it like that. why did he say that out loud? he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

"like a date." you nodded, your cheeks burning.

"that'd be.. that'd be good. not good. brilliant." remus stumbled over his words.

"y/n.. i.. like you. alot." he mutters.

"you do? really?" you look at him.

"of course." he says, avoiding eye contact.

"oh remus, i like you too." you respond, smiling.

remus was caught off guard. he had finally got what he had wanted, after all this time.

you.

and he was happy. very. and so were you, by the looks of your smiling face.

[degenerateworm]

Video games with Wesker!

I am a video game haver and player baby, so you bet my wormy ass I'm going to make some headcanons about playing games with my favourite man!

---

Wesker knows you like to play video games. Of course he does, when often you talk with him about your favourites; the lore, your favourite characters, your favourite mechanics, your gripes and least favourite things...

It's not that Albert has never been interested in them. He's just never had the time. Ever since you started dating him you've realised how much he neglects his own recreational time, so you aren't surprised that he wouldn't know much about something solely made for that purpose.

So you decided to introduce him to it. And, because he loves you, he lets you.

---

At first, he fails to see the point in it, because he's Albert fucking Wesker™, and he has things to do. But like always, you remind him that recreational time is important for one's health, making him huff and nod begrudgingly.

After a while, he starts to stare intensely at the screen as you play, pointing out things that you might have missed, and helping you with things you may not be the best at.

Albert Backseat Gamer Wesker.

And when you give him the controller, he has a small smile on his face, quickly getting used to the controls as you snuggle in beside him on the couch.

Although he does grumble a bit about having to take off his gloves to better play. And you know that this man, a master spy and infiltrator, would know how to work a keyboard and mouse.

---

The first game I see Albert really enjoy playing, is ironically, Project Zomboid. He likes the difficulty and realism of it, plus you bet my wormy ass he loves grinding out tedious tasks and zoning out, like body disposal and loot organising.

I feel like he would like crafting/survival games the most, but mainly realistic ones; so I don't think you'd find him playing Terraria or Minecraft anytime soon. Things like The Long Dark as well, awful situations are his favourites.

Wesker likes to take the lead in these games, assigning roles to each of you and making strategies for better survival.

When Albert likes a game though, he studies it like a syllabus. You know he would have memorised all of the exploits and timings for things.

---

Sometimes he ventures out into other games, but only if they are very in depth and thought out. You will almost never see him playing a fantasy, especially an RPG, because who else would he be other than himself? He doesn't have a very big imagination in these things.

So it's crazy when he tells you he's downloaded Baldur's Gate 3, and he wants you to play it with him.

Probably goes with the default appearance of races, although he finds out how to min max his character FAST. He'll find it hard to get into the roleplay aspect of it, so he will often ask you to talk to the npcs.

Doesn't bother with the Romance options, but he surprisingly doesn't mind when you go for them. Just be ready for his teasing, no matter who you choose.

---

If you want to play multiplayer online with him though, he will be a bit cautious. You'll have to explain to him that he can talk through text chat, and not have his voice on file.

He can even use a VPN if he wants! After that, Wesker will once again relent. After all, you've introduced him to a lot of nice things so far.

I don't actually know what kind of online games Wesker would like. I'm thinking simple team FPS ones would be the ones he gravitates to first; things like Overwatch and Apex Legends so that he can play with you.

He likes to turn off the voice volume for most of it, as the characters annoy him.

Usually stays in a discord call with you, but sometimes he orders his team around in text chat.

Or chats shit to someone if they're bad. You just KNOW he would make up the best roasts.

---

He doesn't see the appeal of single player games, other than to tell a story. If he wanted that, Wesker would just read a book.

But... Horror games. He won't tell you this, but some games of this genre give him ideas.

Maybe Wesker could bring this up in his lab later on...

---

THIS WAS ENTIRELY SELF INDULGENT PLEASE AND THANK YOU :D

[generational-atrophy]

I'd love to see the main 8 in Hetalia coming home to their so passed out while reading a book. Extra points if the so is plus sized please! And btw your cat is ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE!!!(I have 2 tuxedo kitties myself named Italy and Romano). Please and thank you!!!

(Main 7? x Reader) Coming home to their sleeping S/O!

(Gender Neutral) Scenarios ~ A/N omg!!! kitties!!! send pics sometime!!! Btw thank u for ur continued support i know youve been here for a while and i appreciate it :3 (ALSO I DIDNT DO CHINA IM SORRY ITS 1AM AUUUGH)

Trigger Warning: None, just Fluff!

As soon as you got home, Alfred could tell something was off. Although it wasn't every day that you would run to greet him, he could count on at least a loud “Hey!” from across his home. But when he set his bags down from work, he heard no such thing.

Immediately, he tried to recall the morning you had spent together. Unluckily for him, it was nothing but a blur. You had... been there. He remembered that for sure, but if you had said something about being busy, he couldn't recall.

But that must be what had happened. Maybe he should set his alarms earlier, he concluded. But as for now, surely you would return home soon. There was nothing he could do about it, so he might as well enjoy his time alone.

So, like a child, his immediate instinct was to tear off his stiff work clothes, now wearing nothing but his boxers and a t-shirt (If anyone saw him through the window, well, that's nothing but a gift to them,) And like that, he pranced around the home doing his daily routine. Putting away his newly acquired paperwork, washing the dishes before dinner, and putting his suit away in the closet. Or well, that is what he was going to do, before he opened the bedroom door to you, fast asleep.

You were splayed out across the bed, your book still clasped tightly even as your chubby chest rose and fell. He sighed to himself, smiling softly and looking at you like one would look at a long-lost lover.

Well, clearly you had had a tiring day. It would be rude of him to wake you up now, he thought. He would rather do so later, after he's made a dinner both of you would adore.

Arthur didn't like quiet houses. It always made him nervous. Probably paranoia left over from back in the days when you would have to constantly fear for your life. But that justification didn't help. His fear remained, which is why he was so excited to have you move in with him. With you, there would always be a faint, friendly presence. But today, when he returned home from work, he couldn't help feeling unnerved.

Although you weren't spontaneous by any means, it wasn't out of the ordinary for you to suddenly disappear, off to do god knows what. It wasn't a habit Arthur particularly enjoyed, but he loved you despite it. And because you loved him too, you would at least usually leave a text message. But he had received none.

Just to be sure, he pulled out his phone and checked again. Nothing.

Well, he was dismayed, to say the least. But you wouldn't be gone long, he knew that for sure. Now all he had to do... was wait.

So he wandered into the living room, setting his briefcase down by the door before he jumped back. His breath hitched in his throat as he suddenly saw you, laying on the couch.

Clutching a hand to his chest to catch his breath, he approached quickly. But then he noticed the soft, almost unnoticeable smile on your face... the one you always wore while resting in his home. Slowly, he crouched down beside you, caressing your cheek while you slept. How adorable.

He was a lucky man, he thought to himself. He was very fortunate to be able to come home to this sight.

It was an exhausting day, to say the least. First, he was late to work, then he had to actually do his work, and then on the way home, traffic was the worst he's seen in months. So when he stumbled into his apartment, all he wanted was to see your wonderful face... and also maybe a cup of tea.

Which, when he looked around the flat, he was almost greeted by. Through the windowed doors to his balcony, he merely saw the end of your legs, propped up on an old metal chair.

“Mon ange?” He calls out to you, walking towards the balcony with a smirk.

When you didn't respond, he asked again louder, “Y/N?”

For a moment, he felt dread creeping up his spine, before he rounded the corner to see you. Fast asleep, with your book laid against your chest as you snored.

He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. It seems you had the same idea he had. As slowly as possible, as to not wake you from your peaceful slumber, he pulled up a chair from inside right next to you. As he sat down, he kept looking over to you, a loving smile upon his face even as his eyes began to weigh more and more.

“Y/N, my love!” Ivan calls out as soon as he enters your shared home.

“Крошка? Where are you?“ He continues, as he begins wandering through the house in search of you. But as he entered more rooms, only to hear no response, his blood began to grow colder.

You had said you would be home when he got home, yet you were nowhere to be found yet. You rarely didn't respond to his calls either, so needless to say, your out-of-character behaviour was beginning to frighten him.

Had you lied? He searched the living room. Had there been an emergency? He searched the kitchen. Had you been taken? He searched the office. Had something horrible happened? He searched the bedroom- Oh.

As he burst into the bedroom, the door being moments from slamming into the wall, all his worries were eased. He grabbed the door to silence it before stepping forward and sitting on the edge of the bed. Before him, you were curled up tightly around your book, your breathing soft and rhythmic.

“Как драгоценный…” he whispered to himself before crawling next to you. As he looked upon your sleeping face, he felt his heart doing somersaults. Well, if you weren't conscious to protest, there was no reason he couldn't watch your lovely face until you awoke.

Feliciano was not a working man. He had realized that within his first 30 years of life, and the last 3,000 had only cemented it. All he wanted to do when he dragged himself home to you was curl up in your lap and cry his stresses away. So when you told him you would meet him at home after work, he was quick to rush home (breaking countless traffic laws in his wake,) to meet you.

But when he reached home, only to not immediately see or hear you, he couldn't help flopping flat onto the floor. Dust and dirt be damned. He was goddamn tired, and there he would lay until you came home to see him. Or well, that's what he thought, until before he heard your soft snores coming from the living room. Lucky, considering he was about to start snoring himself and drown you out.

Reluctantly, he peeled himself off the floor and stumbled over to the living room. There, you were out cold on his old couch, still holding the book you had been telling him all about just the day before.

Adorable, was his first thought. Seeing you all peaceful, your chubby body relaxed on his couch. You really trusted him and his home that much? Amazing.

But then he started feeling jealous. He wanted to take a nap too! How long had you been here, relaxing while he had been working? Well, working was a pretty big stretch, but still! You were so lucky. But it's his couch, and you're his partner, so he was going to cuddle up against you and nap too, regardless of whether he woke you up in the process or not.

When he had given you a key to his residence, Ludwig had really not expected you to use it as much as you had. But it seemed that every other day, he would return from whatever he had been doing to find you in his home, doing whatever. You had said something about even mundane things being more fun when you were with him. A sentiment he could understand at least a little, considering he wasn't one to complain about your presence. It comforted him just as much as it did you, even if he was afraid to admit it.

So when he returned home from the grocery store to find your shoes laid next to his, he wasn't surprised in the slightest. He just simply sighed and continued his day, quickly putting away his groceries.

“Y/N, how long have you been here?” He asks casually from the kitchen after he sees your figure laying on his couch. No response, but maybe you had your earbuds in. It's no matter.

But when he finishes his task and walks over, he instantly realizes you were asleep. It was the first time this had happened... and he really didn't know what to do.

He sat on the coffee table across from you, staring at you intensely as he was deep in thought. Would it be rude to wake you? Would it be weird to let you keep sleeping in his apartment? God, he really wishes he could call Feliciano right now... but no! He knows you better, and he'll figure this out by himself. Even... even if it takes him a few minutes of pacing to decide.

But after he's finished sweating, he lets you keep sleeping. You must've needed it, and he'd be remiss to take that away from you. Plus, you look cute when you sleep, but he'd never even admit that to himself.

Although Kiku was one of the most anxious people on planet Earth, he never worried when it came to you. That's part of why he liked you so much. It was never stressful, around you, everything came easily to him. So when you hadn't responded to his text telling you he was on his way home, he assumed the best. You were busy, and it meant nothing more than that.

When he arrived at your shared home, he didn't panic when he didn't hear you. He simply decided to go about his normal routine, not searching for you. You would let him know where you were soon, he knew it. But even if it didn't, it was alright.

But when he was bringing his laundry into his bedroom, he was a little shocked to find you laying on your shared bed, still holding your book tightly. Although his heart stopped for a moment, he quickly calmed down. He silently set the basket he was holding down, walking over to you and leaning over the bed. With a gentle touch on the shoulder, he woke you up.

“Silly, you fell asleep...” He teases softly as you start to open your eyes, “Wake up, let's go make dinner together.”

[cherryxblossxms]

Masturbation May - Day 3b: In the Shower (Satan)

A/N: Satan was suggested for day 3 by an anonymous sender! I couldn't quite decide the direction I wanted for this initially but finally just settled on some good ol stress relief via orgasm lol.

Featuring: GN reader || Satan x reader

Warnings: masturbation; some jealous Satan; mentions of marking and breeding (not specific to reader); just some much-needed self-assurance and stress relief in the shower~

Word count: 1411

══════════════════

Satan just needed some kind of stress relief. He knew it was just his temper, easier and quicker to rile up thanks to his sin. But it seemed like everything was going wrong lately, getting on his nerves and pushing him to the edge of exploding. Lucifer was yelling at him about something or other, his favorite cat café had to close early because of an emergency with the owner, and his brothers were all getting into silly, nonsense arguments with each other.

Normally, these things alone wouldn't be enough to make him snap completely. But to top it all off, you had gone on a trip to the Human Realm with Solomon two weeks ago, supposedly for some training and gathering some items specific to your home. In your absence, the House of Lamentation always fell into chaos, no one to buffer the ridiculousness and provide a voice of reason.

Satan knew he shouldn't blame you, or use you as a means of resolving everyone's problems. But your presence was like a magic balm, easing his spirit and always managing to wrestle the others into compliance. And now all this pent up stress was leaving aches in his muscles and gave him a near constant migraine.

He couldn't even focus on his books, attempting to read through various tomes on his ever-lasting quest for the perfect curse for Lucifer, but realizing halfway through that he wasn't absorbing any of the information. He snapped the heavy book shut in anger, sending out a plume of dust that covered his upper half. Satan coughed and set the book aside.

Great, now he was both dirty and angry.

Trying to keep his boiling rage contained, he quickly gathered clean clothes and made his way to the bathroom, hoping against all odds that no one else was in there, or he'd really snap for good. Thankfully, the room was clear, and he quickly undressed as the water grew hot.

Once he was in the water, he sighed, the heat helping to relieve his aching muscles. Although he wouldn't admit it, he often wondered about taking up an offer from Asmo for a spa treatment. He was sure he needed it, and that it'd probably do wonders for his temperament, at least for a little while. Relaxation of the body is supposed to help relaxation of the mind, he figured.

Sadly, the relief didn't last long as his now unbusied thoughts kept going back to all the annoying things happening lately. He just wanted one day of peace, of not being nagged by Lucifer for sneaking in a stray cat, or not hearing the constant whine of Levi hounding Mammon for his money. And thinking of you, he hated being away from you for so long. It was unfair that you had left him, not to mention traveling with Solomon.

Although he was usually secure in his relationship with you, something still bothered him about you being alone with the Witty Sorcerer for so long. Not that Satan didn't trust you, he knew you would never cheat on him. But he wasn't always sure he trusted Solomon and his flirty, flowery words.

Just thinking of it made his skin itch, picturing Solomon trying to court you, to take you from him. Even though he knew he was completely blowing it out of proportion, the thoughts came unbidden to him. The next time he saw you, Satan resolved he'd have to leave his mark on you, to ensure no one, especially Solomon, could ever mistake who you belong to.

The more he thought of marking you, the faster his blood pumped, something ancient and instinctual waking up in his veins. He wanted to cover you in his scent, make sure all anyone else could smell for miles was him. He wanted to leave his fang marks in your skin, leave dark hickeys across your neck and chest, somewhere highly visible so no one could mistake his intentions.

Even better, he wanted to mark you with his seed, cover you outside but especially inside, as deep as he could manage, make sure it could never leave you. It didn't matter if you could get pregnant or not, the deep animalistic need still roared inside him to do it anyway. That final thought sent a throbbing pulse down to his dick, and Satan didn't even realize he was completely hard until his hand was already subconsciously wrapping around his cock and stroking.

He wanted you there, he needed to show you that he was all you ever needed. He was your mate, your lover, and everything you ever wanted, he would provide to you as long as you'd let him. He would show you, he could pleasure you a thousand times over with the way he knows your body, so that no one, especially Solomon, could ever compare.

Satan cursed. Now he was so hard it hurt, needing you in his arms, and on his cock, immediately. The rest of his body was relaxed but now all the ache sat in his groin, begging to be inside of you. You weren't due to be home for another week, and he knew there was no ignoring his erection at this point, so he settled for relieving himself for now, already formulating a plan of attack (of the pleasurable variety) for once you returned.

He shut the water off and quickly stepped out, thankful that you two kept a spare bottle of lube under the bathroom sink. He poured some on his hand as he re-entered the shower and continued stroking. He felt ridiculous, all pent up over his dumb worries and demonic needs, and wanted nothing more than to drown his worries in the pleasures of your body. Only you seemed to know how to truly relax him, but a fantasy would have to do.

He could just picture it, the moment you came back from your trip, how he'd pull you into his room and make sure you didn't go anywhere until you were thoroughly pleasured and marked by him. He wanted to taste your lips, feel your warm, bare skin against his, hear your affirmations that he was the only one for you. The next time you saw Solomon, Satan wanted it to be obvious that he knew your body inside and out and that Solomon wasn't nearly worthy enough to be your mate.

Now fueled by anger and his lust for you, his thoughts were really letting loose. He wanted you sprawled across his bed, legs tossed over his shoulders as he pounded into you, or maybe he'd have you ride him until you couldn't hold yourself up anymore. Maybe to reassure his worries, you'd take his cock down your throat, knowing how gorgeous you look when you struggle to fit him in your mouth.

He pumped his cock faster, using one hand to hold his base steady and add more pressure, chasing that sweet high. As water droplets dripped from his hair onto his body, Satan imagined pulling you into the shower with him, picking you up to fuck you against the wall, letting your moans and screams of his name echo in the bathroom to ensure everyone in the house knew exactly who was pleasuring you. He'd fuck you as long and as hard as you could stand it, making sure to reach the furthest depths within you, as long as you wanted him.

Satan was now panting as his climax approached, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He used the last of his sense to picture bringing you to climax, eager to cum deep inside you, release all his stress into you, and feel you clench around his cock and milk him dry. Just dreaming of achieving that pushed him into that pleasurable zone, and he groaned deep in his throat as he released the first ropes of cum, moving his hand up to work the head of his cock, drawing out every bit of pleasure and cum he could.

He came a surprising amount, likely from lack of release while you'd been gone, and he felt a little sad about the waste as it washed down the drain. But now that his mind was cleared, and his body was well and truly relaxed, he couldn't wait for your return. He was going to make sure everyone knew that you were his, and relieve all his stress with you the way only you could do.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 3

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Gif creds to @bestintheparsec

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.5K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Sorry this took so long. Work :( But I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. :) Thanks for reading!

-Pedro's POV-

The warmth of the midday sun beamed through the window as Pedro glanced nervously at his watch. 12:55PM. Finally, he grabbed his laptop and lay down on his couch with a soft *flump*. He quickly typed in "The Jazz and AllyKat show" into the search engine and opened up the website for your interview, just in time for it to begin broadcasting live. He knew you wouldn't be visible, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't been waiting anxiously since they announced it two days ago.

He was interested in hearing more about you. Hearing your voice speaking instead of just singing. Hearing the passion and levels of expression you may portray. Do you have an accent? A high or low voice? A lisp or a stutter? A rasp? You were such a mystery to him and the world, yet your shared conversation over Instagram the other day was so heartfelt. He appreciated your candor and vulnerability, especially in show business.

He couldn't figure out why… but ever since he heard your song, he couldn't stop thinking about you. There was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He was impressed with your lyrics and swooned at your voice. That voice! But with everyone contemplating who you were and who you liked, Pedro didn't want to be another one of those people, making you feel pressured. But he was certainly curious. 

The video began and he listened intently, not wanting to miss a single word. When your voice chirped a hello to the interviewers and listeners, his heart skipped a beat. He swore it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He was drawn to you and wanted to learn anything he could, so he listened, trying to keep his breathing as silent as possible to not miss it. Why am I feeling like this? We've only had one conversation. Why am I so drawn to her, especially when she's already in love with someone?… he interrogated himself.

The interview discussed your favorite color, animals, and books, which Pedro vowed to read as soon as he could get to a bookstore. You listed off your favorite films and shows. However, although you had a great taste in cinema, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that none of his roles were on your list. Clearly it's not you she loves, so you can put that out of your head now. He should feel relief, but instead he feels hollow at that realization.

When asked who your best friend is, you gush about your guy bff. You talk about how much you love him. How cute and sweet he is. Pedro can't help but feel a bit jealous of this guy who you love so much. But he listens on, his heart perking up and bubbling over when he hears you finally explain that your best friend is your dog.

Not only does she have a dog, but he's her best friend. And the way she talks about him is so…adorable, he thinks, gushing over your shared love of the fuzzy animals. He wonders what your dog's name and breed is, but you refuse to answer that question from the interviewers, for fear that someone may recognize his name and breed, tying him to you. The interviewers make a joke on your paranoia, which you ignore and Pedro scoffs at, their lack of understanding poking a protective instinct inside of him.

The conversation suddenly rolls into celebrity crushes and his chest tightens. But before they can ask you, he hears the air horn signaling the amount of viewers. Although he's disappointed to miss the potential answer you may have given, he also feels that strange protective feeling over you again, making him feel annoyed at the interviewers, knowing your desire for privacy. His thoughts only shift into a possessive manner for a millisecond before Ally proposes the possibility of your crush potentially listening to the show. His heart and emotions are on a bumpy roller coaster and he's practically jittery at the anticipation. He's leaning in to hear your answer when the door to his house barges open and a frustrated Oscar Isaac walks in, complaining in Spanish.

Startled, Pedro slams his laptop closed and flings it towards the coffee table, nearly spilling his drink. He yells questioningly, wondering why his best friend is barging into his home unannounced. Oscar is fully in the living room now, hands on his hips and ready to rant again. But before he has a chance to continue his argument with Pedro, he squints. His eyes look to the laptop, then to Pedro, now standing and looking frazzled after jolting up from the seat. He looks at Pedro's face again, eyebrow raised questioningly, and points to the laptop. "Were you watching porn?"

Pedro is dumbfounded, and if he wasn't on such high alert, he would've thought to lie and say he was watching porn. Instead he blurts "NO, I was not watching porn." It sounded like a lie. Oscar looks again from the laptop to Pedro, noticing his flushed cheeks and giving him a once over from head to toe, looking for any tells, other than the blush and the panic. "Yeah right, you slut. Let's see then."

Oscar reaches for the laptop, and Pedro grasps for it too, just a second behind. Too slow. Pedro argues "I wasn't. Not that it should matter, seeing as I'm in my own HOME… alone. Or should I say previously alone." Pedro throws his hands up in frustration. Oscar just laughs. "Okay let's see what you're so interested in then, that you don't even hear me knocking on your door or trying to contact you." He cracks open the computer.

"You're watching…an interview?" Oscar looks at Pedro, confused at why he would be so wigged out over a talk show. "I told you," Pedro replies, pointedly. Oscar glances back at the computer again, his brow suddenly relaxing and his lips turning into a mischievous smirk. "Ohh. I see… This is that girl you defended in your interview, huh? Someone got a little crush?" 

Pedro rolled his eyes and scoffed, trying to push away the warmth grazing his cheeks. "No. I don't have a crush. I was just looking for something to do and saw it pop up on my page…" Pedro rambled on, "plus it's just curious how much she's keeping a secret, you know? Everyone is wondering about these things." Oscar listened, amused, and Pedro continued. Please stop talking, Pedro thought to himself. "Plus I don't even know her. A crush? That's ridiculous."

"She doesn't know that guy in her song either and she managed a crush… and you defended it," Oscar said matter-of-factly. Pedro rolled his eyes, and Oscar continued. "Are you hoping her crush is on you?" 

Pedro sputtered out a quick answer. "Please. She sounds young... it's probably on someone like Harry Styles. Why would she have interest in an old man like me?" Oscar patted Pedro's shoulder. "You're too hard on yourself." Pedro ignored him and continued, "plus you know how I feel about relationships." 

"Yeah yeah…" Oscar continued in a mocking tone, hand pretending to be a sock puppet while he recited, "I don't have the time to properly grow a relationship, I don't want to get hurt, I'm focusing on my career…" Pedro ignored his mocking tone and simply agreed with the recitation. "Yes… now… Why did you feel the need to barge in here unexpectedly?"

"It wouldn't have been unexpected had you checked your messages. I texted you four times and even messaged your Instagram when I didn't get a reply," Oscar defended. 

"You know I'm not a texter," Pedro disputes.

"Yeah, no shit, abuelito. How many messages are unread on your phone? 600?" Oscar banters.

Pedro hastily defended himself. "No! I call them back! And abuelito!? Really?" He tuts. "You're not far behind me, pendejo. Plus you know I never check my Instagram messages either. I hardly even log on. You should've called me instead."

"I did. Twice. Anyway, I wanted to see if you were still available to watch the kids later. Buuuut, after not hearing back, I just decided to check on you. Glad to see you're alive, and clearly just distracted." Oscar wiggles his eyebrows.

Pedro crosses his arms, ignoring Oscar's last remark. "Yes, of course I'll watch the kids. Go enjoy yourselves!"

"Thanks P. You're the best… and I know I'm picking on you, but I just want you to be happy. I think if you like this girl you should try and talk to her. Dust off the cobwebs of your Instagram and actually message her or something."

I already have… Pedro thinks, running his thumb across his bottom lip. "Thanks, man."

Oscar left with a friendly pat on Pedro's shoulder. "See you later tonight then with the kids!"

Upon closing the door, Pedro sped over to his laptop again, hopeful that your interview hadn't ended yet. Fortunately for him, it was still recording. He hoped he hadn't missed anything.

The interviewer named Ally spoke. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Pedro's heart pounded so loud he feared he would miss your answer. If she says yes… his mind entertains, not knowing the answer to the rest of that thought.

You spoke, hesitantly, and he felt the protective urge creep over him again. He wanted to know the answer but he hated hearing you uncomfortable . "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

He swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat.

The interviewers replied excitedly. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

There's a long pause. The silence is deafening, apart from the booming timpani of Pedro's heartbeat.

You answered, so softly he almost missed it. "Yes. We've talked."

He stopped breathing. 

"Did you tell him it was him? Did you admit you love him?"

"Absolutely not. It was just a nice conversation," you laughed.

We had a nice conversation…

"Will you tell us who he is? At least a description? An initial?" Jazzy asked, desperate for answers.

Ally chimed in "anything! We're starving here."

You giggled before answering. The most beautiful laugh he's ever heard. "I won't do that much, but I will say… he has brown curly hair... Gorgeous brown eyes… And he seems really funny and nice."

I have curly brown hair and brown eyes.. maybe it could be me, his heart offered the idea. I try my best to be funny and nice too.

It could also be Tom Holland. Or Dylan O'Brien. Or some other young actor, his self-doubt chimes in. But he also knew based on your eye color descriptor, that it wasn't Harry Styles, shutting down his earlier guess.

Ally lets out a huff. "That's a pretty broad answer but I guess it narrows out a few people.."

"Well we have another surprise. A way to narrow it down a little more…" Jazz proposes.

"Oh? What's that?" You replied. Pedro could hear the nervousness in your tone.

Jazz continued "I asked our tech to work his magic, and he managed to pull a list of our viewers during the highest number of people tuning in…"

Pedro's heart picked up speed.

"Then, since he's so good at working a computer, he was able to filter it further, running the names through the web and pulling out any celebrities. We have a list here and all you have to do is read through and say if he's on the list of viewers. The only ones who would know are the three of us. Of course if he's watching, he will also know if he's in the running or not."

You stuttered out, "o-okay.."

There was a long pause on your end while you read, and Jazz and Ally filled in the space with chatter.

Pedro sat, waiting nervously for your answer.

"Uhm… no. None of these names.." you finally answered.

His heart sank. It wasn't him. You didn't love him.

"That's disappointing," Ally answered. "I had really hoped he was listening. I'm sorry. I thought when we filtered through the viewers with our celebrity listener filter, we'd have some luck."

"It's okay.. he's probably busy or something.." you answered, though your disappointment was hard to hide. "Maybe he will listen later when he has time."

Pedro was logged in on his account. His name would've been on that list, and you just confirmed, without calling him out personally, that he wasn't the one you loved.

The interview soon ended and he closed his laptop with a sigh, flopping back onto his couch. He had hoped to message you and tell you he watched the video. But now he didn't see the point in it. You already knew he watched it, and you probably didn't care. He closed his eyes and eventually decided to try and ignore his feelings. You don't even know her. Don't be stupid. It's just a crush.. a stupid, hopeless crush..

Looking out the window, Pedro noticed the sun setting outside and glanced at the clock on his stove. Realizing Oscar would be back soon with the kids, he decided he needed to snap out of it. Put on a happy face before babysitting duty. He began straightening up the house and getting things ready before finally turning on a cartoon movie just in time for them to arrive. 

Oscar greeted him, and sat the kids in front of the movie. He knew his friend well enough to see through his smile and know he was upset about something. But he also could tell Pedro needed some space to sort things out in his mind first before he was ready to talk. So he left the kids with a profuse thank you, and headed out the door, leaving Pedro alone with his thoughts and two small bundles of energy.

Unbeknownst to Pedro, you looked through the list of celebrity viewers, scanning for his name. But thanks to his friend's intrusion, at the time that they filtered the list, he was disconnected from the live video. He wasn't on the list you saw.

Kept busy with the kids, it wasn't until they were back home with their parents that Pedro was forced to think about his feelings. Maybe he would still message you either way. You probably needed more friends and allies in this business, and he did enjoy talking to you, even if he wasn't the one you loved. If you didn't want to form a friendship with him back, that was fine too. But he would try. Still, his disappointment was settling in his heart. He didn't realize how much he was starting to care about you until you said he wasn't on that list.

So with the shared belief that neither of you cared about one another, you both went to bed, you both felt heavy in your hearts, and you both couldn't help but feel light tears spilling onto your cheeks as sleep eventually took over.

Equally unknown to you, he was watching, and he planned to watch it again when the video was posted, just to hear you talk a little bit longer. Just to learn more about you. Learn the tiny personality quirks he could pick out from your voice. Things that make you who you are, until maybe he could meet you in person. 

That's all for this chapter!! Thank you again for reading and let me know what you think.

Looking for the next chapter? Here!

Taglist: (Let me know if you want in!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson

[from-thoseghosts]

Making headcanons on random fandoms even if nobody ask me prt.1

Cult of the Lamb

Lamb : He/they/it Agender Poly Pansexual

He was 6 when is family was murdered and he has survived alone in the Dark Woods about 3 months before being captured by the bishops. After enlisting them in the cult, he managed to forgive them for what they had done to him. But he still has nightmares at night and being immortal drives him crazy sometimes. Narinder and him aren't a couple but are very good friends now.

Narinder : He/him Bisexual

He always felt guilty about what he did to his siblings but never said it. He never admitted to Lamb that he had invented the prophecy that had caused his species to be exterminated. At first, he hated the cult and Lamb. But as time goes by, tensions have eased. He spends most of his time maintaining the cult and reporting to Lamb. He hopes to one day be able to talk to his siblings like before. He regularly checks in on Aym and Baal. You wouldn't think so, but Narinder is a great artist, he often paints with pigments that he created himself.

Traits : -Immortal -Zealous -Faithful

Leshy : He/him Omnisexual (male pref) Demiromantic

Leshy remains very suspicious of others since he lost his crown and his sight. He further improves his sense of smell and hearing. The only people he agrees to talk to are his siblings (except Narinder) and Tiago (my yellow cat). Tiago and him are a couple even if Leshy does not want to admit it. He mainly works on the farm and the brewery. He is the bishop who has the most reluctance towards Lamb. He's afraid to tell Tiago he was a bishop.

Traits : -Immortal -Sloth -Jerk

Heket : She/her Trans Lesbian

Since she can't talk much, she doesn't really talk about Lamb or the cult. She also doesn't want to talk to Narinder and she doesn't get along with the other followers. Especially with Susie, a red panda, who often comes to taunt her. Lamb still thinks that they like each other but that it's their way of showing it. Heket works on the farm and more often in the kitchen. She's an excellent cook. Although she is rude to others, she is very caring with children. She is ok to talk with Lamb.

Traits : -Immortal -Hot tempered -Natural Skeptic

Kallamar : He/they Demiboy Gay

He is probably the most respectful bishop towards Lamb because he is afraid of him. He is always a little stressed when Narinder is near him but he agrees to talk to him. The members of the cult like him rather well even if sometimes he acts a little strange. He has also distanced himself from his siblings for some time for unknown reasons. He must have just needed calm. He is also the doctor of the cult and he likes all shiny things.

Traits : -Immortal -Coward -Against Sacrifice -Strong Constitution

Shamura : They/them Non-binary Pansexual

They are very complicated. They never act the same with Lamb due to his madness. They can be very calm or on the contrary very aggressive. They always avoid being in contact with other followers so as not to scare them. They are on good terms with Narinder and insist that their siblings make efforts so that they can be reunited again. They spend most of their time praying and reading books, their injuries still handicap them too much to do others tasks.

Traits : -Immortal -Terriefied of Death -Gullible -Faithful

Ambush (the Goat) : Any (prefers she/her) Genderfluid Bisexual

She appears in the middle of a crusade to help Lamb. Since then, she has also been managing the cult. Nobody really know that much about her. She remains really mysterious. Lamb and her are like siblings and she also likes Narinder. Ambush will often train followers before they go on missions outside the cult.

[eden-writes-stuff]

Christmas 1971

Tags: James "mom friend" Potter, platonic Prongstail, Peter is a cutiepie, Sirius' first Christmas, Peter has parental issues </3

Peter had never been this stressed about Christmas before.

Getting presents for his parents had never been an issue for the 11-year-old, but presents for his friends... If he messed this up, they probably wouldn't let him hang out with them, so it had to be perfect.

Remus was easy. He could get him a year's worth of chocolate and the boy would be satisfied. But Sirius and James?

Maybe an album for Sirius, but Peter had no clue where he could get the records and had a very different taste in music than the Black Heir.  And then there were the girls. The girls, who Peter never really talked to - although at least Lily seemed rather nice -, but Remus was close friends with and Sirius and James at least tried to be friends with, so Peter had to get them something as well.

When he felt a tap on his shoulder, he quickly tried to cover up his list of ideas with his school books, before turning around to see James.

"Are you okay? You seem stressed." "I'm fine", he said quickly, "just... you know, homework." His friend nodded understandingly. "Want me to help you?" Peter shook his head, although he really could have used the help, but the others didn't need any help either.

"What are you getting Sirius for Christmas?", he asked then and James seemed to understand. "I got my mom to find the new Bowie album and send it here. It only came out a few days ago." "Any other ideas?" "You can always get him new t-shirts. Or a few prank things. You know, dung bombs, smoke bombs, anything that makes people sick..." "But how do I get them? We're not allowed in Hogsmede yet." "Just bribe one of the older students", James shrugged.

"You're brilliant!" Peter beamed, practically jumping out of his chair. "What about the girls?"

Now James didn't look quite as sure. "I got Mary some hair ties. Cute ones, with little flowers and butterflies, you know? For Marlene, I got a shirt from the Irish Quidditch team because I forgot her favourite Regional Quidditch team and I thought it was the safest bet." Peter quickly scribbled down the ideas on his paper.

"What about Evans? Are you doing something special for her?" James' cheeks took a deep red. "I got her a necklace with a rose on it." "Okay, I'll find something very ugly for her so that you can shine with that necklace", Peter grinned, "You are my saviour..."

"Oh, don't mention it. And it's fine if you don't find anything for me. I don't need anything. Take care of the others first, alright?" "What? No! You're my best friend. Of course, I will find something." James smiled at him warmly. "Of course. I just wanted to mention it... Are you coming to dinner?"

~

James had been the biggest help.

In the next three days, Peter had managed to get a T-Rex shirt for Sirius, three matching bracelets for the girls - red for Mary, green for Lily, and pink for Marlene - and for James, who was eager to make the Quidditch team next year and was already just a little obsessed with the sport, the had gotten a broom-care-kit 'including the most important materials for maximum aerodynamics and steady wood'.

Because it was Sirius' first Christmas, they had decided to use all three days for celebration.

The 24th was dedicated to foods. They managed to sneak at least four of everything there was in the great hall into their dorm room, where they laid it out to a huge buffet on the floor.

Sirius, naturally, took care of the music, while James and Remus unpacked the biscuits their mothers had sent, and Peter set everything up in orderly stacks that were certain to be ruined at least twenty minutes into the meal.

They tried everything and then rated it on a big chart, which had been Remus' idea. "So we can remember what we like and don't like for the next years." "You're a genius, Lupin", Sirius had beamed, immediately summoning a roll of parchment and his quill.

It took them all day to rate and taste everything and when they were finally done, Peter felt like he wouldn't be able to eat anything until next year.

The 25th was of course dedicated to presents. It was also the day Peter noticed, that the girls weren't even there. "Oh, yeah. They all went home over the holidays", Remus explained, already digging into his new stack of chocolate.

"So I went through all this stress for nothing?", Peter complained, while setting up the new pocket-size chessboard James had gotten for him. In the background, Sirius had started playing the new Bowie Album.

"I'm sorry. I thought you knew. You know... since they weren't here", James said. Peter shrugged "Probably should have... Well, at least now I don't have to worry about it for the next weeks."

Peter hated being the last one to know something. It was the same as at home. His parents keeping secrets from him, always telling him he was too young to understand anything.

"So how about that snowball fight?"

Immediately everyone was up on their feet, looking for their jackets and gloves.

The 26th was dedicated to 'hanging out'. They hadn't really clarified what that meant, but the main point was for Sirius to have a third day, and to keep Remus from studying.

So they ended up in the mostly abandoned common room in front of the fireplace, reading, listening to Hunky Dory for the fourth time and talking about Merlin knows what.

It was then that Peter knew. What they had would last a lifetime. They would argue and fight and scream, but in the end the four of them were meant to be together.

[the-marvelclub]

While you were sleeping | Bucky Barnes

Part 3.

read part 2 here series masterlist

Summary: Reader is in love with the mysterious man who goes every week to the bar where she works. When one night she witnesses a fight that leaves the man in a coma and he´s taken to the hospital, she is mistaken for his fiancée, unaware that the mysterious man is Steve Rogers himself. With no family and after losing everything in The Blip, reader becomes captivated with Steve's friends and their unconditional love for her that she can't bring herself to tell the truth. Things get complicated when she finds herself falling for Steve's best friend, Bucky.

Taglist: @rosecentury @ozwriterchick

"So do you have a date for the wedding yet?" you choked on the wine you were drinking, Wanda's question taking you by surprise. You were now sitting, eating the food in front of you. You had been chatting happily for the last 30 minutes, surprised by how easy it was to talk to them and not bring up your relationship (or lack there of) with Steve, well, until now.

"Actually, we haven't talked about it" you replied leaving the wine glass on the table, your voice finally coming back to you. Wanda nodded seemingly satisfied with your vague answer and continued eating next to you.

You focused your eyes on the food looking for the right way to continue the conversation. The determination to tell them the truth that you had hours before seemed to disappear. It had been years since you had felt part of something. Sure, you had your apartment and your job, Joe was the closest thing you had to a friend, if you could call him that. But that was it. The events after the blip changed everyone including you, people close themselves off, and although many had returned the world was different, everyone could tell. But for this moment, being there felt right.

"I always thought he'd end up with Sharon" Sam commented, talking more to himself than anything else.

Who is Sharon?

Natasha threw him a pea which caused Sam to let out a squeal of protest. "Well, he obviously didn’t” she replied giving him a murderous look before returning to you “I'm glad it was you."

"What I MEANT is that I'm surprised there still women out there who are romantically interested in the elderly." He defended himself giving you wink.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

"Who knows, maybe there's still hope for you after all, Buck." Tony said, standing on the bar next to the table pouring himself some whiskey. The comment causing Bucky to roll his eyes but he didn't look angry.

"I've never had a problem in that department." he stated, not seeming to be bothered by this conversation at all.

The previous car ride with Bucky from Steve’s apartment seemed to last an eternity. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you he took the long way home, something about him screamed ‘disbelief’. Of course he used the moment to asked you a lot of questions about your supposed relationship with his best friend, you knew he was probably taking mental notes of every lie that came out of your mouth, you tried your best to do the same hoping it wouldn't all come back to bite you in the ass. You knew what he was good at, you had never been one of those people who idolized the avengers, not before, not during or even after the blip, you knew who they were from the news or from what your co-workers talked about. But you certainly knew what Bucky Barnes was good at, you had read about the winter soldier in a history book you had been flipping through while waiting for your favorite coffee order.

Steve Rogers' best friend, womanizer, his supposed death, what he been through and his relationship with the others avengers. You'd be lying if you said you didn’t find him somewhat intriguing.

“Well, we can all agree that 4 months is pretty fast for an engagement" Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He pushed his now empty plate aside and leaned back against the chair, his chest seemed to rise as he crossed his arms over it and a small, almost unnoticeable, smile crossed his face. "I bet you know a lot about him" He cocked his head to the side slightly and looked at you "like for example, his favorite movie”.

You knew it wasn't just a statement, he was asking you. Of course he was his best friend but apparently he hadn't seen Steve either for the last two years. People change. Well if that's the way he wanted to play it, you were going to use your cards right.

"He doesn't like watching TV" you said with confidence mimicking his posture and crossing your arms over your chest. For the first time since you ran into him, you held his gaze for more than just a couple of seconds. If you wanted him to believe you, you had to play the part.

"Favorite musician?" He asked quickly ignoring your previous reply. If Bucky was being honest with himself, he liked the nervous look you’d have on your face every time he looked at you, but this time he couldn't see anything but your defiant stare.

"Marvin Gaye" You mentally went over everything that was on Steve's nightstand when you went to pick up his clothes, remembering the old cds he had "and the Ramones."

"Book?"

"1776"

"What are you doing, James?" Nat’s stern voice next to you made you look away from him, for a moment you had forgotten they were there, "what is this about?"

"Nothing, nothing, just curious" He simply replied before getting up and heading to the bar for another drink. You let out a sigh of relief as the others continued their chatting. You were about to take your last sip of wine when you noticed Wanda's gaze fixed on you, you smiled softly at her and returned your attention to the food in front of you.

"And what do your parents think about him?" Tony said after a while, the food was long gone and now everyone was getting more drinks "I bet they're very happy for you."

You gulped grabbing your dirty plates taking them to the dishwasher distracting yourself from the question.

“They passed away” you replied quietly "I never knew my mother and my father died of cancer one year after I disappeared on the blip, so I never saw him again. It’s just me”.

“Oh” Tony looked at you apologetically “I’m sorry”.

“It was a long time ago” you brushed it off, not trying to make the evening uncomfortable. You close the dishwasher and turn to Nat who was going to take you to see Steve. Before you left the room you caught Bucky’s stare, only this time this one was soft, almost kind.

——

Natasha had taken you to see Steve, who remained in the same state, if you didn't know what was really happening to him, you would think he was just sleeping. His cheeks were still full of color. You'd been able to notice the little details that adorned his face, and yet Joe's voice wouldn't leave your head, he really look a lot like Ryan. According to what you had been told, it was all a matter of waiting, he was a super human after all.

An hour later, Bucky had offered to drive you back to your apartment. This time the ride was shorter, if he wanted to investigate further about his suspicions about you, he didn't. He kept quiet for the entire ride. Maybe he was just tired or maybe finding out about your loss had made him identify with you, if only for a moment.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" he finally spoke, ending the comfortable silence that had formed between you two since you left the compound. You were walking down the small hallway in your building.

His kind tone had taken you by surprise "Yes, everyone was very friendly, thank you". You replied pulling your keys out of your bag, the door to your apartment in front of you.

He let out a big sigh as he leaned against the wall next to it, hands in his pockets, while he waited for you to enter. He almost seemed shy, nothing like the Bucky you had met hours earlier.

"Look, I'm sorry if I gave you a hard time" he finally said closing his eyes for a moment before turning to look at you.

You stopped.

"Oh, don’t worr-"

"The truth is that it’s been a long time since Steve told me anything really, it's not your fault" he interrupted you and by the way his voice failed you noticed he was having a hard time talking about it. You could feel the horrible sense of guilt flooding through your body. You didn't want him to feel bad. "I'm glad you two had each other and you were taking care of him." Well, now you really felt guilty. The imposter syndrome was really kicking this time. You gave him a half smile entering your apartment.

"I didn't tell you before but… thank you for saving his life, not everyone would have been brave enough to do what you did." You turned to him, he was leaning against the door frame looking at you only this time you didn’t feel strained with his blue eyes. "I can see why he’s attracted to you” he simply said giving you one final look before turning and walking away. If he only knew.

"Goodnight, Bucky" you whispered watching him go, but this time he didn’t hear you.

A small continuous rustling sound made you wake up from your sleep. Opening your eyes to a completely dark room, you were about to reach out to turn on the lamp at the side of your bed when a cold material covered your mouth and the smell of leather filled your senses.

What seemed like a figure of a man was on top of you, his gloved hand was over your mouth trying to restrain you.

Terror began to invade your body. Oh god, he’s going to hurt me. You twisted and pulled your arms trying to free yourself but he was much stronger than you. He didn’t budge an inch. Feeling the adrenaline rush through your body, you didn't even realize that you had managed to let go of your arm, without thinking you dug your fingers into his eyeballs, and your knee hit his groin, knocking his breath out of him and making his grip weaken for a moment. You jumped out of bed, turning on the lamp and bringing it to the floor along with you as the man pounced on you again.

The room filled with the dim yellow light and that's when you saw him; an unknown man with black hair and tan skin loomed over you, he was dressed just like the men of the alley. You let out a high pitched scream before the man slammed your head hard against the floor.

Your vision blurred and a high pitched noise rang in your ears leaving you dazed. Before you knew it, the man was no longer on top of you but lying on your side, his face was in pain and a metal arm was around his neck.

Bucky.

That’s all you remember before you pass out.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

February Creator of the Month: Noesapphic

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @noesapphic!   The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? 

Noe is fine, really!

More below...

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I started in 2018. I was bored in a friend's house and fighting good old insomnia when I saw the app and tried it for funsies. The first book was 'High School Story'. 

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined around late 2018 early 2019 and I had just left my community in Amino because the admin had gone full puritanical dictator and I was curious about Tumblr.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

It was simple: my nickname is Noe and I am a sapphic (aka lesbian). It's a no-brainer, really. 

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

It was a reblogged quote. I related to what it said and I reblogged it 

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

I write fanfiction. God did not grant me art skills I'm afraid. My fingers are too fat and my pulse is terrible. 

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I've been creating for fandoms as long as I can remember. I've had a really troubled life, so creating stuff helped me. As for Choices, I've been creating stuff since 2019 

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Without a doubt, Desire and Decorum. The first book is simply a masterlist and its characters are so well-written, and everything about it just draws me to it. They definitely botched the other books, but it will always be in my heart. I also enjoy creating for other historical books and books that have similar themes 

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a set of headcanons of Mr. Sinclaire and my MC, Celestine, finding out that they're going to be parents. While my spelling is terrible, I wouldn't change a thing. The engagement I received was such, it drove me to write for more. I haven't stopped creating since. 

9- What your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

It's no secret for anyone who pays attention to my blog: my au, The Cursed Heiress, is probably my best creation. It's complex and a juggernaut of lore and history, and has all I've ever wanted in a fic and book in it. Although a close second is my Tudor AU, For Love and Duty. I simply love the 'arranged marriage' trope 

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

The second part of a one shot, A True Man, was probably one of the most difficult to write, and with a very traumatising and important theme. I was 100% hoping anon hate telling me to delete it, but found instead that the people ate it up! It has now 30 notes (which is A LOT for a small fandom like the D&D one) and now that I reread it, I'm proud of what I created and the message I wanted to send, which resonates with happenings of my past and experiences. 

11 - If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Definitely angst. There's something so cathartic and relieving as letting out those emotions you can't express out loud without being locked up for being unhinged, and it has helped me understand myself many times. Also, smut is def something that I can't physically write 😅 

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are small parts of me in every MC. A fragment of my past. Something of their lore that I went through. Something I aspire to be. Something I wanted to be once. I like to think that every writer leaves a part of their heart and soul with each character they create. 

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Ooof, where to begin. I think the hardest part is to just write. I can go on for weeks looking at my turned-off laptop and goof off on Tumblr. But when I do write, the 'boring' parts or writing a character that I am not familiar with or that there isn't much info about can be challenging. 

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Oof, where to begin, lol. My modern AUs, The Viscountess and Plan B. There's also Your Most Ardent Admirer and For Love and Duty. There's the fix-it fic series of the Blades LIs. Profiles of my MCs from several series. And also fic ideas that I want to create, but don't know where or how to start it. Woe is me indeed 😭 

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Depends on the person. I would be very, very picky. I did show some parts of The Cursed Heiress to two trusted friends. But I wouldn't be against showing my mom a few chapters of The Viscountess… Unfortunately, she does not speak a word of English and I am terrible at translations, so it's wishful thinking, lol. 

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

For the published ones, Holly Black and Cassandra Clare have probably been my biggest help. Leigh Bardugo is also a newer inspo, and Spanish author Laura Gallego got me into fantasy, and anonymous author Bebi Fernández's raw and brutal prose have helped me find my voice. I have now bought George R.R Martin's Game of Thrones, looking for new sources to grasp. 

As for fandom-wise, the very first writer to inspire me unfortunately hasn't been active since the pandemic, and despite our differences, @hellospunkiebrewster 's writing and essays got me into Regency and its history. My thriving years were by her side, and I'm grateful of having had a great fandom friend and hyper. The most recent ones are @missameliep my amazing fandom mom (te quiero mami 🥰) and some pieces by @princess-geek 's writing have inspired me to expand my horizon. 

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

The Cursed Heiress, definitely. I think that my messages would resonate with many people. There's also The Viscountess: many people should see the messages Nicole, Anne and others have, and for what I have planned (and have been stalling out of laziness 🫣) would put things into perspective for many minorities and certain groups that are neglected by society and governments alike.  19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

I am now at the outlining stages of making The Cursed Heiress an original novel. I tried many times to make my own novel, but always dropped it. But now that I've been for years with it, I feel like this might be the one project I dreamed of publishing one day. It's tough and scary, but I'm loving the ride so far. 

Also, I have tried my hand with poetry, but it didn't have engagement and felt like talking to a wall, so I now feel discouraged. But if someone out there is interested, lmk 👀 

20-  What other hobbies do you have?

Apart from literature, I love make-up, skincare, cooking and making gifs and videoedits. I also love travelling and discovering new adventures and learning as many languages as I am capable. I also love listening to music. Basically anything that has to do with the humanities and art, I'll take it. Also, I am very invested in modern royal gossip. I know, not very republican of me… 🫣😅 

21 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

Apparently, the one I use the most is 🫡🫶🏻👀. Heh, sounds like me, lol 

22: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

____

Two reminders to both creators and onlookers alike: 

Creators: making content is NOT a race or a chore. It's something you make just because, and share it with the world. If you don't enjoy it, it's not worth the effort. 

Onlookers: I know how much you may love X thing, but remember that behind that art, fic, etc, there's a person with real feelings, real life and that is taking off free time to make something. Enjoy it, reblog it (please, reblog the stuff you love) and if you don't like it, filter the tag, block and move on. It's really that simple. 

Also, happy Valentine's Day AND Black History Month to the black creators of Choices! You're awesome and we love you ❤ sending you love 🥰 

[theladyofshalott1989]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag some people.

@kay9leo tagged me in this game! Thank you so much, girl! I am truly honored. If you haven't checked out her post, it's so clever and creative and wonderfully written ("A New York Yankee in Hogwarts' Courtyard, 1890")!

I thought about adding a snippet of the next chapter of my Quidditch: Champions crack fic ("Into the Quaffleverse") here, but I read it back and it's definitely not ready to be shared with the world yet, so instead you get the first handful of paragraphs of the next chapter of "You Cannot Put a Fire Out" (Book 3 of my "Like Moths to a Flame" series).

We're pretty far into the plot by now, so if you haven't read it, MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING. The excerpt follows after the cut:

“What in Merlin’s name?” Anne hissed as she flung open the door. Damien had released his Disillusionment Charm moments before, so the sight Anne was greeted by was probably nothing short of alarming. She seized Damien by the front of his shirt and yanked him into the house, shutting the door firmly behind them. 

Damien was acutely aware of the late hour. He knew he was likely waking Anne, Ominis, and perhaps even the children, but he felt he had no other choice. Returning home meant he’d have no way to contact Ominis, since Sebastian’s owl, Hermes, had died many years before. Damien had never owned an owl of his own; his owl at Hogwarts had been on loan. The Hogsmeade Post Office usually served as their method of communication, but it was closed at this hour. His options were very limited. 

The walk back to Hogsmeade, toting a bound and silenced Jack over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, had been dangerous, that was for certain. Yet, somehow, Damien had managed to evade detection. Jack initially struggled against his restraints, but he eventually gave up, and sooner than Damien expected. Just to be safe, Damien had Disillusioned them both upon entering Hogsmeade, although it turned out to be an unnecessary precaution. At least something had worked in his favor tonight.

“Explain yourself!” Anne whispered, her tone sharp, as Damien settled a still bound Jack onto the sofa. He glared back at them, but made no move to escape, likely knowing full well he wouldn't stand a chance in his current encumbered state, even if he tried.

Ominis entered the room, his brow furrowed. “What’s going on?” he said, joining Anne’s side. 

“I had to restrain Jack so he wouldn’t get away,” Damien explained, his words tumbling out in a rush. “He’s under the Imperius Curse.” 

Anne clapped her hand to her mouth. Ominis’s face flushed bright red. 

Damien pressed on: “Ominis, it was Marvolo. He’s been using Jack.” 

“Let me guess,” Ominis said. “Jack’s currently tied up on our sofa.”

“Correct,” Damien replied, matter-of-factly. There was no point in beating around the bush.

Ominis sighed. “Why did you bring him here, of all places?” He rubbed his temples, clearly exasperated. Damien honestly couldn’t blame him. 

“I wasn’t sure if the Imperius Curse could be broken. If it can be, I doubt I can break it on my own.” When Ominis remained silent, Damien added, “I was hoping you could help.”

No Pressure Tags: @heyitszev (since he was my beta for this fic and has already read it; plus, I WANT TO SEE WHAT YOU'RE WORKING ON). I'm afraid to tag other people because I don't want to spoil anyone who doesn't want to be spoiled for next week's chapter and I don't know who's reading it right now LMAO. But, if you read this and want to join in, please, please, do so! Open invite :)