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idkyetxoxo · 3 months ago

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Jacaerys Velaryon - Leap of Fate

Summary - A young woman's daring climb over a wall to escape an arranged union leads to an unexpected encounter with her betrothed himself. What begins as a night of escape becomes the start of an enchanting story of love and destiny.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2102

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

I took a deep breath, my gaze locked on the stone wall ahead. The sky, darkening with the approach of night, cast eerie, elongated shadows that flickered like ghosts on the rough surface.

My palms grew sweaty, and a shiver of anxiety ran down my spine. The height of the wall seemed to mock my courage.

"Alright, if I can just make that jump and haul myself up, I should be able to manage the rest from there," I murmured to myself, my voice tinged with a mixture of hope and trepidation.

With a resolute nod, I steeled myself, my teeth clenched in a grimace of concentration. My fingers dug into the wall's jagged surface, desperately searching for any crevice that would hold.

The coarse texture of the stone scraped against my skin, each movement sending a jolt of pain up my arms. I glanced down, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Seven hells," I muttered under my breath as the dizzying height made itself known.

I pressed on, scaling the wall as best as I could. Halfway up, I dared to believe I was making progress, but fate had other plans. My foot slipped on a precarious rock, and I felt myself plummet to the ground.

I landed with a jarring thud, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.

A muffled cry escaped me as I lay sprawled on the ground, staring up at the indigo expanse of the night sky. The stars seemed to mock my plight.

With a groan, I pushed myself up, brushing off my cloak in frustration. Realizing it was more of a hindrance than a help, I tossed it aside, my frustration evident.

Determined not to be thwarted, I tried again, managing to reach just under halfway before pausing to reassess.

"What are you doing, my lady?" a voice called out suddenly.

I yelped in surprise, my fingers losing their grip as I scrambled to regain my balance. In a graceless tumble, I crashed to the ground.

I lay there, staring up at the heavens, lamenting my misfortune as the voice approached.

"Don't touch me!" I snapped, my voice sharp as he reached out to help me. He quickly withdrew, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"What are you doing?" he asked again, and I sighed heavily, glancing from the wall to him.

"Scaling the wall, what else does it look like?" I replied, my exasperation clear. He seemed taken aback by my tone.

"Why are you scaling the wall at this hour?" he asked, his tone genuine but puzzled. I considered his question for a moment before a sudden idea sparked in my mind.

"Yes, that's perfect!" I exclaimed, turning to him with a bright, hopeful smile. His sceptical gaze met mine.

"You could give me a boost up, and then I can navigate the tricky part," I suggested. He took a step back, extinguishing my hopeful smile with his reluctance.

"No," he said firmly and I groaned in frustration.

"You are truly a horrible person," I declared, my voice laden with annoyance. "How can you see a lady in distress and not offer assistance?"

His reaction was a surprising burst of laughter, a reaction that did nothing but further annoy me.

"If you tell me why you're attempting such a daring escape, I promise I will help you afterwards," he said, crossing his arms with a look of genuine curiosity.

I pursed my lips, contemplating whether to reveal my predicament.

"If you must know," I began, as he listened intently. "My family has betrothed me to the prince."

I watched his eyes widen slightly. "I do not wish to marry him. I have never even met him. What if he's ugly or dull, or worse, a terrible person?" I finished, my irritation clear.

Instead of offering sympathy, he laughed again—this time, with genuine amusement.

"I'm glad my predicament amuses you, but you promised to help me, so you must," I insisted, gesturing for him to come closer. He obliged, but then abruptly halted.

"I will not assist you over the wall," he said, his tone resolute. I sighed in exasperation, feeling as though this ordeal would never end, my patience quickly wearing thin.

"I will not help my future wife escape our union," he added.

The weight of his words hit me like a blow, and my eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief swirling in my mind as the reality of the situation sank in.

"Prince Jacaerys?" I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

The colour drained from my face as the realization settled. I had been scaling the wall to escape my own arranged marriage, only to find that the prince, my betrothed, had caught me and was now standing right in front of me.

My eyes swept over him, taking in every detail. He was nothing like I had imagined. Far from the monster I had conjured in my mind, he was undeniably handsome, with an effortless charisma that immediately dispelled my worst fears.

I couldn't help but wonder how I had ever thought of running from someone like him.

"My prince, I truly apologize," I stuttered, attempting an awkward curtsy.

I was painfully aware of how absurd the situation was, struggling to reconcile my desperate escape with the reality of facing my would-be husband.

He watched me with a mix of amusement and curiosity, clearly enjoying the irony of our encounter.

I fumbled for the right words, my mind racing to understand how to address the man who was both my captor and the very reason I had been trying to flee.

He watched me with a new, softer gaze, and a genuine smile curved his lips.

"No one told me you were this beautiful," he said, his voice warm and approving. "In fact, you might be too beautiful. People will talk."

My cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and I fumbled with my words as I attempted a modest, "Thank you." The compliment, unexpected and sincere, left me momentarily flustered.

He arched an eyebrow playfully. "Do you think I am ugly and dull?" His question, though lighthearted, made me acutely aware of how disoriented I was, struggling to maintain my composure.

"My prince," I stammered, my voice trembling with earnestness, "I spoke on impulse. I truly did not mean anything I said." My confession was met with a soft chuckle from him, the sound both reassuring and disarming.

"Would you still like assistance up the wall?" he asked, his tone now imbued with a teasing edge.

I glanced from the daunting height of the wall to him, and then back to the wall, shaking my head in resignation.

He grinned, clearly amused by the turn of events. His expression softened, and he took a step closer, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of mischief and warmth.

"Then perhaps we should discuss our next course of action," he suggested, the lightness in his tone making the situation seem less dire. He leaned slightly closer, his gaze both curious and engaging.

"What troubled you enough to consider scaling a wall to escape me?" he asked, a playful edge in his voice that made it difficult not to smile at his jest.

I hesitated, then answered simply, "I do not know you."

He clicked his tongue thoughtfully, his expression shifting to one of contemplation. "You are correct," he said, nodding slowly. "We can change that."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts before offering a glimpse into his life. "I enjoy training with my brother Luke," he began, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Although he's not the best sparring partner, he tends to be too gentle in his approach. I also find great joy in soaring through the skies on my dragon, Vermax and, above all, I have a deep fondness for cake, especially lemon cake."

I stared at him for a moment, slightly taken aback by the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. His casual, almost endearing revelations seemed to defy the seriousness of our earlier exchange.

"Now, you must tell me something about yourself, my lady," he prompted, breaking the silence.

I shook myself from my daze and nodded slowly. "I enjoy reading," I began, trying to match his openness. "Occasionally, I like to go swimming in the open sea and most of all, I treasure the time I spend with my kitten, Biscuit."

He smiled warmly at my response. "We must arrange a meeting between Vermax and Biscuit," he suggested with a playful glint in his eye.

I raised an eyebrow. "And what if Vermax thinks Biscuit is his next snack?" The thought of my kitten being mistaken for a dragon's treat was not entirely comforting.

He laughed quietly, the sound rich and melodic. "I would protect Biscuit with all my strength," he assured me, his voice earnest.

"But," he continued, with a mischievous gleam, "if Biscuit were to take a daring leap onto Vermax's back, I might have to step in to mediate a peaceful introduction."

I chuckled, the image of Biscuit attempting such a bold manoeuvre brought a reluctant smile to my face. "Well, if you're prepared to play dragon diplomat, I suppose I can trust you with my precious kitten."

He placed a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture. "Consider it my solemn vow," he declared with mock seriousness.

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension of our earlier conversation melting away. "I'll hold you to that, my prince. I'd hate to have to explain why my kitten became dragon fodder."

Our laughter was abruptly interrupted by a clap of thunder, and I jumped slightly at the sudden sound. The sky was now darkening rapidly.

"Perhaps we can continue this conversation inside," he suggested, his tone both practical and inviting. "Now that you've decided not to run off." I bit my lip, nodding sheepishly at the jeer.

As a small downpour began, I squinted to locate my discarded cloak. Before I could even bend down to retrieve it, he had already picked it up.

"Allow me," he said, his voice gentle and courteous as he approached me.

With the grace of a true gentleman, he draped the cloak around my shoulders, his touch both tender and precise. The fabric enveloped me in a comforting embrace, and I nodded appreciatively as he deftly fastened the strings, securing it snugly against the chill of the rain.

As we began to walk toward the shelter of the castle, he glanced at me with a thoughtful expression.

"Perhaps we should have a maester check you out," he suggested casually, his tone light but laced with concern.

I turned to him, raising my brows in surprise. "A maester?"

He nodded, his gaze shifting to me with a hint of amusement. "I saw you take a few tumbles," he admitted, a small, bemused smile playing on his lips as he gently pulled a small leaf out of my hair.

I swallowed my embarrassment, a flush creeping up my cheeks. Before I could react, I reached up and smacked the leaf from his hand with a playful swat.

"How mortifying," I muttered, trying to mask my chagrin with a sheepish grin.

He chuckled softly, the sound a gentle remedy to the lingering tension between us.

"I assure you, there's no need to be embarrassed," he said, his eyes dancing with mirth. "In fact, this will make for a rather delightful story to share with our future children."

His words caught me off guard, and a deeper blush crept up my cheeks at the thought of such an intimate future. I quickly looked away, my gaze dropping to the rain-slicked stones beneath our feet. The steady patter of rain seemed to echo the rapid beat of my heart.

"Perhaps" I murmured the words barely audible.

"Could we possibly agree that this little escapade remains between us?" I asked, "I'd really appreciate it if this interaction wasn't mentioned to my mother or father."

He nodded, a knowing smile curling at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I believe it would be best not to announce your eagerness to escape me. Consider it a secret between us."

As we continued to walk towards the castle, the rain began to fall more heavily, but the shared laughter and understanding between us made the journey seem lighter.

In the years that followed, the tale of Prince Jacaerys and his wife would become a cherished legend, a story celebrated across generations.

Our tale became a beloved fairy tale, told and retold to children and adults alike.

It was a story of two genuine souls, intertwined in a narrative that captured the essence of love and destiny, our lives a testament to the magic of finding connection amidst the most unforeseen circumstances.

A/n - Yes this is inspired by that iconic scene of George and Charlotte in Queen Charlotte

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd one shot #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #team black #prince jacaerys #jace x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys strong

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aashi-heartfilia · 1 year ago

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The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao

*light novel spoilers*

I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)

And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?

POISON

She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.

And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.

I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.

And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.

One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.

So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.

Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:

She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she told him. “I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a dancer.” So he had been watching them! “I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she really couldn’t.

Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.

It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.

And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.

They both are hypocrites.

And they both refuse to accept their feelings.

In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....

Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"

"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it. He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies. Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”

Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.

Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and he was about to give her one back.

“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute. I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he seemed almost embarrassed. Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”

It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.

Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.

The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.

More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.

Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.

Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.

Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.

It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....

She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.

Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!

So, she got interested in poison.

Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.

And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.

Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.

But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).

Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)

Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.

~Sunshine

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ilylovelyz · 4 months ago

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⍣ ೋ Rom-Com Gone Wrong

˚ · . bakugou katsuki x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ takes place during their third year, mentions of injuries and blood, forced intake of aphrodisiac, unestablished relationship, mutual pining, love confession, both characters are 18, protected sex, implied unprotected sex, virgnity loss, misunderstandings, a bit angsty, bakugou is lowky ooc and gentle, this is really long

following a rough battle with a rather inconvenient villian and his quirk, y/n finds herself induced with aphrodisiac against her will. she wins the encounter, only to be told if she doesn't relieve her sexual desires within 24 hours with another individual she will die.

"i'll be the one to do it," mineta says, trying to sound nonchalant about the situation, flipping his non-existent hair off to the side if his shoulder. the girls, in unison, disagree verbally, knowing of his creepy tendencies.

"can't she just do it with a girl?" tsuyuri thinks aloud, attempting to find an easy way for you to feel more comfortable with the situation. "if that's the case, then i'll do it!" ashido declares, raising her hand in the air.

this has been the subject of conversation for the past hour or so. yes, your classmates and even teachers are conversing on what to do about your current state, on who will be the one to sleep with you. it's almost heartwarming, to know that your classmates care so much about you that they'd be willing to sleep with you if it means you'll live.

which is exactly what it means. exactly nine hours ago, you had a confrontation with a well-wanted villian. you knew of the risks, you knew of his horrendous and taboo quirk. you knew that he used his quirk to take advantage of women who were defenseless and practically leaving them for dead within 24 hours of interaction.

quirks like these were rare, none of your classmates nor teachers had any experience with this type of thing. originally, the teachers were going to discuss of this situation privately, but after almost three hours had gone by with no real possible solutions, they had decided to involve your dearest classmates to come up with something, anything to help save your life.

"no, according to the villian and the tiny information we were able to get out of him, it has to be done with a male." midnight had said, rubbing at her temple to ease her stress. your female classmates groaned with frustration, side-eyeing mineta with disgust.

"t-then i'll do it!" a new contender had volunteered. "y-you? y/n needs a real man, denki—," jirou had said, trying to play of her nervousness with a chuckle. "i agree." momo said sternly.

"no offense but.. how about the boys leave this discussion to the boys." she added on, having distrust in the intentions of her male classmates. "i know you boys just want to do what you can to help her, but we also have to think about how this will affect her mentally."

the topic carried on with the girls, occasionally one of the boys attempted to give a idea, but were almost immediately shot down due to it's risk.

admist to all the tension and debate, there was one who was uncharacteristically quiet. bakugou katsuki.

all of the boys were huddled into a circle, behind the girls, listening into their plan. however, it was bakugou who stuck out like a sore thumb. he kept his hands in his pockets, a rather stoic expression written onto his face as he stared up to the ceiling.

"i'll do it! you guys just gotta trust me!" mineta yelled once more, his body jolting with fear when he was met with clear resistance from the girls.

everyone was too wrapped up in figuring out a game-plan to even notice that bakugou had taken his leave, muttering a scoff at his classmates's immaturity and perversion.

he made his way to the dorms, his hand rubbing at the tense skin of his nape. bakugou stopped in his tracks, seemingly he wasn't the only one who had the same idea. his hands returned to their place in his pockets, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of his classmate, todoroki shouto, standing a few feet away from your dorm room.

"what are you doing here?" bakugou asked, resting his body weight on his right leg. todoroki looked back at bakugou calmly, observing the blonde's stiff movements. "i want to help y/n-san." todoroki stated, glancing back at the door of your room.

bakugou scoffed at his answer, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "yeah right—you?" he hissed, coming up to todoroki and shoving him away from your door. "don't make me laugh. i'll be the one to do it."

todoroki stayed in place for a moment, blinking at bakugou's aggression and determination. he glanced once more at your door, and then back to bakugou before sighing with defeat and turning around to head god knows where.

bakugou scoffed once more, not taking his eyes off todoroki until he was well out of his sight. bakugou turned around, his red eyes staring intently at your door. he chewed on the walls of his mouth, wondering how to go about the situation.

as brash as he may be—he's not an idiot. he knows that if you don't end up getting any help within a few mere hours, you'll die. and thats not what he wants. to stand and watch while his dumb classmates argue over who will be the one to have the honor of having sex with you is something he won't abide with.

ೄྀ࿐

a soft moan escaped your lips at the feel of your fingers caressing against your sensitive folds. a drop of sweat ran down your flushed face, running down to your collarbone and dampening the sheer tank you were wearing.

there was a knot in your abdomen, a very tight knot, that has been yet to be undone. normally, when you had this kind of urge, you'd be able to satisfy it yourself. but it's been nearly eight hours since you'be been drugged, and the effects only get more and more intense with every passing minute.

you're tired. your body is coated in a thick layer of sweat, the room smells grossly of your own scent, and it's been eight hours—yet no release. tears sting at your waterline, your hand coming up to cover your pathetic whines and cries as your fingers scissor their way into your cunt, trying to find relief to your frustration.

you gasp with pleasure when your finger nails press ever so slightly against that one spot, hazy eyes going wide when you finally find it. your back arches off the bed, toes curling when you can barely press your fingerpads against that sweet spot, but nonetheless it's something.

your body jolts when you hear a light knock at your door, hands flying to grab onto your blanket to hide your half-naked body. you sat frozen on your bed, eyes watching the door.

a couple of moments later, once again the visitor knocked, snapping you out of your haze. you rushed to find any pajamas or clothes to wear, eventually settling on a pair of grey pajama shorts. the visitor knocks again once more, earning a groan from you. "g-give me a second!" you hiss loudly, dusting off your body and finally walking up to your door.

with a deep inhale, you open up your door a few inches, hiding your sweat-ridden body behind the large frame and peeking out your head to see the visitor.

your heart drops into your stomach at the sight of the familar blonde, his red eyes lidded low at you. "b-bakugou?" you stutter out, your cheeks blushing intensely when you feel your core throb at just the sight of him. "what... are you doing here?" you say, swallowing down the fat lump in your throat.

bakugou stares at you, his facial expressions uncharacteristically calm and unreadable. "..isn't it obvious?" he says nonchalantly, taking a step towards the door. his low tone heats up your body, making you impossibly warmer with embarrassment to top it off with your seemingly insatiable desire.

still, you don't move from the door, and if anything, push it forward so only a few centimeters remain between the frame and the door itself. your forehead rests against the wood, contemplating your options.

bakugou katsuki has come to your door to do the obvious with you. for many others, this would be a dream come true—and it almost is, for you, almost. tears cloud your vision once more at the thoughts that run throughout your head, he's only here because you'll die.

"let me in y/n,—", "no, i don't want you here." you interrupt, still hiding behind the door. bakugou's eyes widen slightly at your refrusal, not expecting you to shut him down given the situation.

to you, it's almost insulting—bakugou katsuki is here to have sex with you, to save you. your crush of many years, is here to have sex with you, but only because he feels the need to save you, not because he wants to.

bakugou sighs silently, he knows its a sensitive matter, that you're practically forced to have sex with someome that you possibly don't like just to live. his fists tighten up into a ball, his eyebrows furrowing at your stubbornness. but he won't have you die, he won't knowing he could help you.

"y/n. open the door or i'm going to break it down myself." he says sternly, his voice raising slightly. it sends shivers down your spine, but still you hold your ground. alas, you find it within yourself to close the door, only for it to be held open by bakugou who most definitely overpowers you when it comes to strength. with a grunt, your already weak arms give in, quickly dropping back to the floor as the door slams against the wall now that bakugou has won the short game of tug-o-war.

bakugou makes his way into your room, not even caring to check if the door handle has made a new hole in the wall. his mouth opens, ready to say something, only to purse into a straight line when he sees the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"i don't want you here." you mumble out, attempting to hide your tears by wiping them away as quick as they came.

with a grunt, bakugou is pulling you up to your feet, his hands gripping onto your shoulders while his lips smash against yours. the kiss is rough, almost uncomfortably stiff. and yet, you almost let out a moan of satisfaction just by him giving the worst kiss ever. he pulls away a moment later, his hands keeping you in place.

not like you'd be able to walk away even if you wanted, your gaze was fixated on his soft features, eyeing those lips of his. this time, it's bakugou whose walking away—and it's you who is running after him.

with haste, you push yourself forward to the blonde, your hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him back to you. bakugou breathes out a grunt when your lips collide with his once more, desperate and clumsy, more teeth than tongue. you can't help but grab into bakugou's broad shoulders before finding better purchase by wrapping them around his neck, feet on all toes in order to reach his lips.

bakugou pulls away from you, quickly shutting the door and locking it. though, he barely has time to do the second, as soon as the door is closed, you're pushing him against it and shoving your body against his, encapturing his lips with yours once again. he swallows your desperate whines, his tongue fighting for dominance against yours. it's messy, it's not at all in sync—but just that alone has your body heating up than what you thought was possible.

and bakugou can feel it. his hands find purchase on the small of your waist—your skin is hot to the touch, almost fever hot. he raises an eyebrow when the feel of his skin on yours alone has you letting out a soft moan, much to your embarrassment. experimentally, bakugou's hands travel down to the curve of your ass, squeezing the plump flesh lightly, earning a gasp from your lips.

seeing this, bakugou pulls away from you, a fat string of saliva connecting the two of you. his red eyes watch you tortuously, watching the way your delicate features contort with pleasure as his hands explore your ass, his squeezes getting more and more rough as your body reacts. his finger glides up to the hems of your shorts, playing with the drawstrings and eventually pulling on one to untie the knot, allowing your flimsy excuse of so-called shorts to drop and lay around your feet.

your cheeks burn at the way he stares closely at your half-naked body, eyes darting down to the ground when you realize that you didn't even put on any underwear. to you, bakugou is eyeing your body, looking for any imperfections and unsatisfying marks.

but to bakugou, he has to hold back a groan by biting on his lower lip at the sight of your bare cunt. his hands tighten it's grip on your hips, attempting to keep his composure. bakugou finally pushes himself off the door, leading you quickly by the small of your waist to your bed.

with a gentle shove, you're laying down onto your back, your legs dangling off the edge of the mattress. your eyes widen when bakugou's hands grab the hems of his shirt, pulling it up to his head and discarding of his shirt, revealing his rather toned abs and few scars he's gained in the various fights he's gotten into as a hero.

your mouth is agape in awe, practically drooling at the sight of his fit muscles and small waist. without another word, your hand subconsciously reaches for him, generously touching the muscles of his abdomen. for the first time of the night, bakugou finally shows some emotion, smirking widely at your infatuation with his abs.

"i know i got some great abs, huh?" he grins, his hand coming up to rest on the flesh of your thigh. his grin flattens to an slightly agape 'O' when your hand travels down lower to his lower pelvis, your nails caressing the skin, sending shivers down his spine. dangerously, it continues, your fingers meddling with the edge of his baggy pants, circling the metal button.

before you could do anything else, bakugou is grabbing your hand away, and much to your surprise, settles himself inbetween your bare legs, eyeing your exposed cunt. naturally, you rush to close your legs, but are stopped by his hands that rest on both of your inner thighs.

"don't try to hide yourself from me." he growls lowly, his cock growing hard in his pants at the fuller sight of your glistening cunt. a yelp leaves your throat when you are pulled closer to the edge of your bed, cunt mere centimeters from bakugou's face. your eyes close shut, palm hiding your face in embarrassment.

"open your damn eyes, you're gonna watch as i eat this pretty pussy." he hisses out before blowing lightly onto your folds, enjoying the way your thighs shiver. with a lick of his lips, bakugou dives into your cunt, his tongue dragging across your folds and into your core. you let out a rather loud moan at the feel of his tongue exploring your cunt, your hands diving down to entangle themselves in his short blonde locks.

as told, you watch bakugou devour your poor pussy through tears, moaning into your palm to not let anyone hear the way you're getting eaten out by one of your classmates. your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel bakugou enter his index finger into your tight walls, massaging your gummy walls without mercy.

"bakugou.." you mewl out, back arching off the bed when you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel. the fingers tied in his hair pull tightly on his roots, earning a hum of satisfaction leave his lips, vibrating against your clit so deliciously it has you sobbing out his name within seconds and squirming within his tight hold as you cum. tears run down your cheeks as your body convulses with pleasure, eyebrows furrowed intensely as your first orgasm of the night washes over you.

a minute later, you finally come down to earth, chest heaving heavily as your eyes focus down to bakugou who licks up the remains of your delicious juices. it's so over stimulating, but it feels so good, the way his tongue laps up your cum as if he was a starved man.

for a second, you close your eyes, basking in the sweet after-glow of your orgasm before a familar vibrating sound snaps you out of your bliss. bakugou holds up the pink bullet-vibrator within his hand, cocking his head to the right. "this yours?" he asks teasingly, a sly grin painted into his face.

before you could respond, bakugou is pressing the bullet against your clit, sending waves of overstimulated pleasure up your spine. you wiggle and shift on your bed, attempting to get away from it, from him, but in the heat of the moment you seem to have forgotten of bakugou's trained strength. he pins your hips onto the bed with ease with one hand, and holds the bullet to your clit with the other.

he evilly chuckles into your cunt, his tongue gliding into your tight hole. your cries and pleas are melodies to his ears, and he only stops when your thighs are shaking for a second time around his head and your pussy walls are tightening up around his tongue. he hungrily laps up your fluids once more, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit as he discards of the vibrator in order to grab onto the back of your thighs and practically smothers himself into your pussy.

finally, once he's deemed you cleaned up and not an ounce of your cum wasted, he pulls away from your drenched pussy. his chin glistens with your juices, his tongue lapping up any remains on his lips. his ruby red eyes watch as your chest heaves up and down, his hand grabbing your wrist that was covering your flushed face and discarding it to the side.

he passionately kisses you, not like the kisses you two shared earlier. rather, your inhaling his heavy breaths as his hips roll subconsciously into yours, his hard-on poking against your inner thigh. "bakugou.." you exhaled against his lips, your hand sliding inbetween your close bodies to palm his confined cock.

bakugou lets out a almost pained groan, his eyebrows furrowing at the feel of your hand brushing against his cock's tip. "fuck.." he groans, his head dipping down to your chest when your hand slides below his trousers and over his confined boner. "wanna help you too bakugou," you mumble shyly, batting those pretty eyelashes at him.

the tempered blonde seems to have been frozen in place at your unexpected boldness, his cock growing impossibly harder at your words. he curses under his breath when your hand glides in between the gap of his boxers, your fingers coming into contact with the skin of his cock.

you're so unexpected. it's all bakugou can ever think of. unlike all the others, you've surprised him the most. you've surprised him with your wits—instead of strength and speed. no matter how mean or offensive he's been to you, you've been nothing but a saint—going so far to even nurse him back to health after a particularly aggressive battle with a villian.

thats why he had to be the one to help you. after all you've done for him, he had to return the favor in the one time he could save your life, even if it meant having sex would save you. he wasn't about to let those ungrateful, clueless extras do it with you either when they didn't deserve the opportunity to have you so vulnerable for them.

and having sex with you doesn't seem too bad, not in the slightest. especially not when your hand is pumping his cock so deliciously. bakugou's lips apart slightly, a sharp gasp escaping when your palm tightens around his sensitive cock.

you jolt when bakugou's own hand wraps around your wrist firmly, practically slapping it away from his cock. you look up at him with filmy eyes, looking for an explanation within his own. "gotta focus on you," he mumbles under his breath, his hands coming down to your hips and dragging you down to him.

bakugou finally begins to undo his belt, the metal buckle causing your ears to tingle. he pushes down his pants to his lower thighs, for a second he glances up at you, to which you can see a small glimpse of the red tint that covers the apples of his cheeks and the way he stares intently at your features, most likely waiting to see your reaction.

he slides his dark red boxers down to the middle of his thighs, just enough to free his cock of his uncomfortable confines. and, just wow, maybe it's because you're quite literally drugged with a sex drug, or maybe he's just that perfect—but just the sight of his cock has your pathetic pussy walls clenching and throbbing around nothing.

your mouth salivates at the mere thought of his cock, and just now seeing it—god you just want him to fuck you already. without a thought, your hand reaches once more for him, only for bakugou to pin your wrist down to the side of your body, his own climbing on top of the bed. your legs come to rest on each sides of his hips, his thighs underneath yours while he sits on his knees.

it seems you're not the only one so horny, afterall, as bakugou wrapped his hand around cock, his hips inching closer to yours, his body jolted, eyes widening. his sudden movement has your heart dropping in your stomach, a cold sweat breaking out on your body. "w-what? what is it?" you stutter out, your hand crossing defensively over your clothed chest.

bakugou's cheeks seem to bloom more a shade of red as he leans back, searching for something in his pocket. "hah.. i almost forgot the condom.." he says, taking out the unmistaken small square packet out of his pocket.

you chuckle lightly at the mistake, feeling embarrassment for yourself as well. to think that you two were so wrapped up in the heat of the moment that you almost forgot the condom gives such a strange feeling in your stomach.

finally, bakugou puts the condom on, a bit shaky with embarrassment as he slides it on. all prepared, he looks up at you—possibly the calmest you've ever seen him, but there's a hint of seriousness and maybe even care with the way his eyebrows are furrowed lightly or how his eyes never leave your face.

"ready?" he asks cautiously, his hand gripped onto the underside of your thigh with the other resting on the side of your lower stomach. with your nod of approval, bakugou meets his thighs to your ass, his cock tip pressing lightly against your virgin hole.

before bakugou could go any further, your soft sobs stop him. his head immediately snaps up to yours, his eyes wide with shock. your eyes are once again wet with tears, eyebrows arched and lips frowning.

"i know this is not very convenient, y/n, but if we don't do this, you'll die-", he tries to say before he's interrupted by your sobs and hiccups. through fat tears and incoherent sentences, you finally manage to say something clear.

"it's not that." you practically hiss, surprising the blonde. "..then what is it?" he urges, a confused expression forming on his face. with a loud sigh, you groan loudly with anger and sadness, practically throwing your hands to your face as you try to wipe away your never-ending tears.

"i d-didn't want it to be like t-this!" you sob loudly, your shoulders jumping with every hiccup. before bakugou could press any further, the years of untold suffering and thoughts just came rushing to you, spilling out of your mouth like vomit. "i-i didn't w-want it to be l-like this! to happen like this!"

"oh my g-god! bakugou i've been in love with you since i've m-met you—and it–it hurts—for it to happen this way—you're only doing this just b-because you f-feel obligated to do i-it—not because you l-love me—" you mumble out, hands covering your eyes to avoid seeing his reaction.

"for it to ha-happen this way—it's like a whole prank..! like a fucking—slap in the face!" you say, practically yelling the last part as your hands fly down to the bed with frustration, finally meeting bakugou's gaze. your sobs quiet down, stomach churning at the realization of the word vomit you just had.

you thought he would be weirded out, maybe even make fun of you for it. but instead, bakugou is now looking at you with an unfamiliar gaze, full of something that seems to just be more than politeness and friendly care. sure, he's not smiling, but the way his red eyes are half-lidded, pupils dilated so big they might as well just be black, his eyebrows no longer furrowed but instead arched upwards with what seems to be surprise.

before you could say anything else, waves of sharp pain are shot up your spine as bakugou unexpectedly pushes in the tip of his cock, his arms now finding purchase by wrapping around your waist, lowering himself closer to you.

his lips press yours, slow and steady as he inches his fat cock into you. he pulls away from your lips with a grunt, his eyebrows arched downwards as he tries to set aside the way your cunt feels so heavenly wrapped around the end of his cock.

"i'm sorry for how i've been treating you." he says lowly, his teeth nipping at the pristine skin of your collarbone. "i just didn't know how to tell you—didn't think you felt the s-same," he breathes out, stuttering the last word when your walls clench around his cock. bakugou curses under his breath, trying to ground himself by pawing at your clothed breasts, sliding his hands under your tank to feel the bare skin.

bakugou's words has fresh tears forming once again at your water line. "the same..?" you think out loud, a hiccup escaping your throat at the realization.

"f-fuck, y/n—," he chokes out, his balls becoming flush with the curve of your ass. "bakugou.. the same?" you urge on, a small gasp leaving your lips when his cock tip glazes against your sweet spot. it takes bakugou to find the strength to answer, but he does with a groan, rising his upper body to have a better look at the sight of you.

"..yes the same you dummy." he finally confirms, his eyes unable to lock with yours, instead choosing to glue themselves to the sight of your tight pussy swallowing his cock. without wasting another second, your hands fly to his nape, pulling him back down to kiss him roughly. the two of you moan into the kiss, your hands desperately exploring the skin of his back while his continue to grope and massage your breasts.

"hah—i just couldn't allow it.. i didn't want the others to have you.." he groans out, his hips speeding up against yours. his teeth bite at your breasts possessively, leaving dark red marks over the unmarked flesh. his possessiveness sends a shiver up your spine, making you impossibly more hornier than you thought possible.

"baku—katsuki," you mewl out, your fingernails digging trails of red into the skin of his back. his head nods silently at your use of his first name, his ears tingling intensely.

his head tilts up to face yours, unprepared for what you were about to say. "please fuck me. i need you."

with a few words of heavy profanity, all previously known touches of gentleness are thrown out the window and bakugou is throwing your leg over shoulder and practically folding you in half. bakugou is quick to cover your mouth with his palm, if not your screams of pleasure would be heard by all the other people in these dorms—and he's not quite on board with any nobodies hearing your pretty moans.

bakugou practically jackhammers his hips into yours, his cock tip bullying your cervix. your eyes roll to the back of your head at the foreign feeling of your cervix being fucked, of your cunt being mercilessly destroyed by a fat cock. your hand flies up to the head board, desperately attempting to find purchase on anything to keep you grounded.

his cock grazing your sweet spot has you screaming once more into his palm, creaming around him for the first time that night. "f-fuck—" bakugou curses loudly, his teeth drawing blood on his lower lip in an attempt to hide own moans.

your cunt walls have a vice grip on his cock, practical almost leaving him unable to move as you cum around him. still, bakugou works his hips in and out, doing everything in his power to prevent himself from cumming just yet.

in an last ditch effort to do so, bakugou lifts his palm up from your mouth, flipping your body so you lay onto your stomach. he's quick to shove his cock back into your overstimulated cunt, rutting into you like a dog in heat. bakugou doesn't find it within himself to care when you're moaning so loud that the first floor can probably hear you, neither does he care that he's fucking you so hard that the bed frame begins to slam against the wall.

all he cares about is destroying your cunt, destroying you, something he's been wanting to do since he's met you. "fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n you feel so fuckin' good—i'm gonna cum," he babbles, his cock growing hard at the sight of your fat ass bouncing with every impact of his thrusts.

you're no better off than him, moaning his name desperately like a mantra. bakugou finally comes with a sharp and deep thrust, pushing his cock so deep it has the tip flush with your bruised cervix. he groans incoherent words, most likely profanities, as he cums into the condom, his hands gripping on the swell of your hips as he tries to ground himself.

you cum just at the unmistaken warmth that pools inside of you, tongue lolling out of your mouth pathetically. your body twitches underneath his weight, hands weakly grabbing onto his biceps. "katssshuki.." you mewl out, stars practically twinkling in your eyes.

bakugou pulls out of you with a sharp inhale, taking off the filled condom. his cock twitches when you stop him just as he's about to throw away, taking the cum-filled latex from his hand and holding it over your mouth, allowing the cum to drip onto your tongue and into your throat.

he watches you with wide eyes as you practically suck the cum out of the condom before throwing it into the trash bin on the side of your bed. you look at him with a grin, licking your lips generously before giggling.

bakugou's face twitches uncontrollably, any remains of the composure and the obvious "better safe than sorry", he has left is discarded before he practically pounces on you like a wild beast.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

bakugou is jolted awake, his eyes darting to the door of your room. theres a couple of knocks, his eyes look for your clock, '5:04 AM'.

he shuts his eyes, fully okay with ignoring the late visitor before theres more knocks. bakugou, begrudgingly, gets up, only because he doesn't want you to wake up.

he wraps his lower body in a spare blanket, taking a few seconds to rub awaken more before he's inching the door open, just barely enough to see who the visitor is. though, his shoulders relax when he sees it's just mr. aizawa at the door, most likely checking up on your state.

mr. aizawa blinks unexpectedly at bakugou, surely not expecting him to answer the door. his expression softens at the realization, being quick to offer an explanation. "i was just coming here to see if y/l/n was alright.. but i see it's under control, right?"

aizawa punctuates the last word of his sentence with the tilt of his head, his eyes pointing out bakugou's half-naked body. bakugou in response sheepishly shrugs, muttering out a groggy 'yeah' before closing the door.

he stands at the closed door for a second, rubbing his eyes tiredly before turning around to go back to bed, your bed more specifically. he stops in his tracks for a moment before continuing, seeing that you're now sitting up and staring at him.

"katsuki.." you breathe out tiredly, practically purring when you feel his hand settle onto your hip, bringing you back down onto the bed with him.

the two of you share a chaste kiss, departing only to get a short breathe in before you're pushing your body against his, deepening the kiss once more for the nth time that night.

please like and reblog with tags

#bakugou x reader angst #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou x reader smut #bakugou katsuki smut #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou katuski x reader #my hero academia fluff #my hero academia angst #my hero academia smut

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alygator77 · 2 months ago

Text

❖ cursed by color — satoru’s new look ❖

❀ summary. satoru gojo faces a challenge no amount of cursed energy can prepare him for—his daughter’s makeover. with pigtails, polish, and plenty of giggles, satoru finds himself utterly powerless to resist her antics.

❀ contents. pure fluff. pre-established relationship. you're both sorcerers. domesticity. satoru being the best girl dad.

❀ wc. 2.7k

As you push the front door open, the first thing you hear is giggles. Not just any giggles—those giggles. The kind that signals trouble or, more likely, your husband being roped into something ridiculous by your daughter. Toeing off your shoes as you walk in, you turn the corner, curious to find out what mischief is happening now.

And there, you are met with Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer in the world, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table—completely at the mercy of your daughter.

“Hold still, Daddy! You’re gonna mess it up!” she scolds with all the authority a four-year-old can muster.

“I’m trying,” Satoru whines, his head tipped back against the couch. “But I’m starting to think I’ll be stuck like this forever.”

Biting your lip, you suppress a laugh as you step further into the room.

“Oh, and what’s going on here?”

Satoru’s head swivels toward you, a grin instantly spreading across his face.

“Ah, my love, you’re just in time to witness history in the making. I’m being upgraded.”

Your eyebrow raises as you take in the sight of him—each finger covered in glittery pink nail polish.

“Upgraded, huh? Looks more like a full-on makeover.”

Proud of her work—your daughter beams up at you.

“Mommy, look! Daddy said the glitter makes him super strong!”

“Did he now?” you glance at Satoru with a smirk. “How much stronger are we talkin’ here?”

“Like, a million times stronger!” she declares with a big smile, capping the nail polish bottle like a professional. “All done!”

Satoru lifts his hands, admiring the sparkling polish with a mock serious expression.

“I’m practically invincible now.”

Ah, but—your daughter, isn’t done. Jumping up with excitement, her eyes gleam with a new idea.

“Daddy! Daddy! Now I’m gonna do your hair!”

Satoru freezes in panic, eyes darting between you and your daughter.

“Uh, my hair? I’m pretty sure it’s perfect as is, don’t you think?”

But before he can protest, your daughter has already dashed off to grab her hair accessories.

“y/n! Help! I’m being held hostage by a tiny tyrant,” he pleads, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes.

But you just grin, crossing your arms.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of stopping her. Besides, I’d love to see what she comes up with.”

“Traitor…” Satoru mutters under his breath as your daughter returns moments later with a plastic comb and a handful of colorful hair ties.

“Sit still, Daddy!” she demands, climbing onto his lap and tugging at his snowy white hair with enthusiasm.

Satoru winces but stays obediently still, his lips twitching between a grimace and a grin.

“Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of ruining your masterpiece.” He flinches as she accidentally tugs a bit too hard. “Ouch. Careful, sweetheart. Daddy needs to keep some of his hair please.”

Too engrossed in her ‘hairstylist’ role to notice his plea, your daughter starts gathering little sections of his hair, combing it carefully, and securing them with bright pink and purple hair ties—the pigtails are uneven, sticking out at odd angles, but she works with such determination—her little tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.

“There!” she announces, standing back up to admire her work. “Now you look perfect, Daddy!”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of resignation and amusement.

“Perfect, huh?”

Stepping closer, you pretend to give his new look a serious evaluation—his hair is pulled into several lopsided pigtails, each one accented by colorful clips and ties.

“Hmm, I don’t know... It’s close, but I think something’s missing sweetheart.”

Satoru narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.

“What do you mean, ‘something’s missing’?”

Giving him a playful grin, you pretend to study his face before snapping your fingers.

“Ah, I’ve got it. Makeup. A look like this just isn’t complete without some makeup.”

Satoru’s eyes widen in horror as your daughter gasps excitedly.

“You’re right Mommy!”

“No, no, no—” Satoru starts to protest, but your daughter is already darting toward your room, her giggles echoing through the house as she searches for your makeup bag. He drops his head back against the couch, groaning. “y/n, why would you do this to me? Haven’t I suffered enough?”

You plop down next to him on the floor and tap his nose teasingly.

“You’ve handled curses. You can handle a four-year-old stylist. Stay strong.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy!” your daughter chimes in, running back as she triumphantly holds your makeup bag. “You’re gonna look soooo cute!”

Satoru lets out a resigned sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes.

“Alright. Do your worst, kiddo.”

As your daughter starts unpacking the makeup bag, he mutters under his breath to you.

“Just so you know, I expect full compensation for this. Something involving chocolate cake.”

Chuckling, you reach out for his hand and interlock your fingers—offering him a comforting squeeze.

“Oh, you’ll get cake. Maybe a crown too, after this.”

“Great,” he sighs dramatically, “I’ll take the cake in exchange for my dignity.”

Your daughter, too focused to even notice your banter, pulls out a tube of bright pink lipstick.

“Okay, Daddy, pucker up!”

Sighing dramatically again, he puckers his lips for your daughter, who eagerly leans in to apply the lipstick with far more enthusiasm than precision—half of the lipstick ends up on his upper lip, and the other half, somewhere closer to his chin.

“Beautiful!” your daughter announces proudly, standing back to admire her work.

Satoru tries to glance down at his lips, his eyebrow quirking up.

“Beautiful, huh? Uh… should I be concerned that I can’t feel where half of this is?”

You cover your mouth, trying not to burst out laughing.

“It’s very... abstract.”

Before Satoru can comment, your daughter is already moving on—she pulls out the blush, her face scrunched in concentration as she starts swirling it onto his cheeks. The rosy color quickly turns into something more akin to a deep flush.

“Um, I think you’re using too much—” Satoru tries to say, but your daughter shushes him with a stern hand wave.

“Shhhh, Daddy! I’m the artist, remember?”

She dabs even more blush on his nose for good measure, and you cover your mouth again— trying to stifle your laughter as Satoru glares at you through squinted eyes.

“y/n, this feels personal.”

“Oh, not at all,” you exhale—grinning, “but I’ll admit, it’s a great look.”

Your daughter continues, switching to mascara—she fumbles with the tube for a second, and Satoru tenses, his eyes growing wide as she holds it up like a delicate weapon.

“Now for your eyes, Daddy!”

He blinks, sitting up a little straighter, and your daughter, eager to get closer, stands up on Satoru’s lap—wobbling slightly for balance. But as she leans in, her footing slips, and she topples forward, the mascara wand making a beeline for his face.

“Whoa—wait!” Satoru blurts out, instinctively pulling back, catching her mid-fall just before the brush nearly pokes him in the eye. He holds her steady as the brush grazes his cheek instead.

“Jeez, kiddo,” he chuckles, but there’s a hint of relief in his voice. “Let's not get too close with that thing. I still need my vision for exorcising curses.”

As he pats her head gently, your daughter giggles, scrambling back up—completely unfazed by her near-miss. She quickly regains her balance, waving the mascara wand again with renewed enthusiasm.

“Oops, sorry, Daddy! I’ll be more careful this time!” and without skipping a beat, she leans in for another attempt while Satoru sighs in playful resignation—a grin curling upon his lips.

“Okay, artist, but one smudge and I’m calling a redo. I have standards, y’know.”

You pull your knees into your chest—watching them with adoration.

“Hmm, I thought Infinity was supposed to block all external threats,” you grin, raising an eyebrow. “Guess it’s no match for a determined toddler, huh?”

Satoru laughs softly, watching your daughter carefully swipe the mascara across his lashes. As his gaze lingers on her, his smile softens—his voice lowering as the playful banter fades, leaving behind something more heartfelt.

“Mm, well… infinity can handle most things, but when it comes to her?” he glances up at you, a gaze full of warmth and affection as his voice dips lower—he offers you a small shrug. “And you? I’m powerless.”

Warmth floods your chest as you see the love in his eyes—it’s moments like this where he’s just Satoru—not the strongest sorcerer, but the man who adores you—the man who would do anything for his two girls.

“Well,” you murmur, a small smile curling up your lip, “powerless looks good on you.”

You hold his gaze—an unspoken intimacy in the air, and your daughter, blissfully unaware of the tender moment, finishes her masterpiece with a triumphant flourish.

“All done, Daddy! Now you look soooo pretty!”

Satoru blinks a few times, adjusting to the feel of the mascara on his lashes.

“Oh yeah? Am I ready for a night out?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, still holding onto that playful grin.

“Forget the night out—you’re ready for a photoshoot,” you quip, quickly snapping a picture of him before he can react.

The moment the camera clicks, Satoru’s eyes widen, and his grin falters.

“Wait—did you just...?” His tone turns from amused to mock-horrified as he realizes what you’ve done. “Oh no, no, no. Give me that phone, y/n.”

You hold the phone up just out of his reach, smirking.

“What, you don’t want the world to see the ‘prettiest’ sorcerer in all his glory?”

Satoru lunges toward you, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“You’re not keeping that!” he declares, and before you know it, he’s trying to snatch the phone from your hand.

You squeal, spinning away from him as you clutch the phone tightly to your chest.

“Oh, come on! This is gold!”

Satoru reaches out, his hands grabbing at your waist as he tries to get closer.

“Nope, delete it!” he insists, laughing as he playfully wrestles you for the phone.

You twist away again, giggling as you evade his attempts, dancing just out of his reach.

“Oh, but it’s too good to delete! You’ll thank me later when this becomes your new profile picture.”

“Like hell I will!” Satoru laughs, lunging again, this time managing to grab your wrist. He tugs you closer, using his free hand to reach for the phone. “Come on, y/n, hand it over. No one needs to see me with pigtails and mascara.”

You’re both laughing now, the playfulness escalating as you try to wiggle free from his grasp.

“But you look stunning! This could be your big modeling break!”

Just as Satoru tries to make another move for the phone, you hear an excited giggle from behind you—before either of you can react, your daughter’s voice rings out.

“Dog pile on Daddy!”

Satoru lets out an exaggerated groan as your daughter climbs onto his back, clinging to his shoulders with her little arms.

“Ahhh! No, not you too!” he cries dramatically, the grin never leaving his face.

Your daughter bounces excitedly on his back, giggling as she tightens her grip around his neck.

“Mommy! You too! Dog pile on Daddy!”

You can’t resist the pure chaos unfolding in front of you—the joy in her laughter pulling you in.

“You asked for it ‘toru,” with a grin, and a playful lunge, you tackle Satoru to the floor, landing on top of him with a light thud.

Satoru stumbles under the weight of both his girls, dramatically flopping onto the floor as if utterly defeated.

“Ahh! Nooo! I’m down! I’m down!” he cries, laughing so hard his eyes squeezed shut.

Your daughter squeals with joy, her laughter infectious as she bounces on his chest.

“We got him, Mommy! We got him!”

“Yeah, you did,” Satoru groans, still laughing as he reaches up to dramatically shield his face with one hand. “I didn’t stand a chance.”

The three of you are laughing uncontrollably now, tangled together on the floor in a mess of arms and legs. Satoru—still pinned beneath you and your daughter—finally rolls over onto his back, pulling you both into his chest as he catches his breath.

“Looks like you’re officially outnumbered, Satoru,” you tease, holding your phone up to show off the photo of him—his hair a colorful mess of pigtails and clips, his lips bright pink, and his cheeks dusted heavily with blush.

Satoru’s eyes widen in mock horror when he sees the picture.

“Betrayed by my own family... I should’ve seen this coming.”

Before you can respond, your daughter leans in to look at the picture, her eyes lighting up as she gasps.

“Daddy! You’re soooo pretty!” she declares with an enthusiastic smile.

Satoru’s faux horror softens immediately as he laughs, pulling her into a hug.

“Pretty, huh? Well, I guess if my favorite artist says so, then it must be true.”

“Guess you’re not just the strongest anymore—pretty’s your new title,” you grin, propping yourself up on your elbow as you rest your chin in your hand.

Satoru narrows his eyes playfully at you, but there’s a mischievous glint forming in his gaze—grinning, he leans back as if an idea has just struck him. His voice drops to a teasing murmur as he turns to your daughter.

“But you know...” he begins slyly, his grin growing wider, “since my little artist did such a great job on me, maybe it’s Mommy’s turn next.”

You shoot him a look, instantly suspicious.

“Oh, don’t you dare.”

Satoru’s smirk deepens, clearly reveling in your mock hesitation. He pulls your daughter closer, his hand gently running through her hair, adding a touch of tenderness to his playful plotting.

“It’s only fair, right, princess?” he asks conspiratorially, glancing down at her with that warm, affectionate look that always gets her excited. “I say it’s time for Mommy to get the full makeover treatment.”

She gasps, clapping her hands together in delight.

“Yes! Mommy’s turn! I can make you look soooo pretty, Mommy!”

You sit up, laughing nervously as she squeals—your hands up in a surrender.

“Wait, wait, maybe we should—”

But it’s too late—your daughter is running towards the nail polish, and Satoru leans back on his elbows as he watchers her go—looking far too pleased with himself.

“Looks like you’re not getting out of this one,” he says smugly. “You’re in good hands,” he continues, nodding toward your daughter as she eagerly collects nail polish and clips. “She’s a pro—you’ll look ‘soooo pretty,’ just like me.”

You groan in mock defeat but smile nonetheless.

“Oh great, the prettiest sorcerer title will soon belong to me.”

Satoru sits up, chuckling softly as he glances over at you. His eyes find yours and the world seems to slow—his expression softening in that way that always makes your heart flutter.

“You’ve always had that title,” he murmurs, with a tender smile. “No contest.”

A warmth creeps up your face as his gaze holds yours—you can feel the sincerity in the way he looks at you, like you’ve always been his everything.

Reaching over, he gently brushes his knee against yours in a simple but affectionate gesture.

“I love you, you know that?”

His voice carries the weight of those words, and you lean in—unable to stop yourself from pressing a gentle kiss to his temple before you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you.

“I know,” you whisper back. “I love you too.”

Satoru sighs lightly, the sound barely more than a breath as his arm wraps around you—drawing you closer against him. His hand moves in slow, soothing motions along your arm, his thumb tracing soft circles over your skin.

Together, you sit in peaceful contentment—like nothing in the world could disrupt this moment—wrapped up in the easy warmth of each other’s presence as your daughter hums happily in the background, carefully arranging her colorful collection of nail polishes and hair clips.

Satoru’s voice, barely above a whisper, breaks the quiet but not the peace.

“As long as I have you two,” he murmurs, “there’s no curse I can’t handle.”

a/n. yeah... fuck ch 271. i needed some satoru comfort so here you guys go :')

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readwritealldayallnight · 1 month ago

Text

Learning

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“Said it would’ve made too much of a mess. Waste o’ his money.” Simon says, slopping another spoonful of pumpkin guts into the large bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. Your usual table cloth has been switched out with an array of this weeks newspaper, the black and white print covered in the sticky remnants of your idea of fun on a Friday before Halloween.

“Not even one?” You attempt to pose the question casually, hoping to disguise the sadness in your tone, concealing the way your heart breaks at the thought of a young Simon Riley having never carved a pumpkin, his father not even allowing him to partake in that simple tradition so many others enjoy.

“S’alright, lovie.” He says, seeing right through you and recognizing the hurt you hold for him, an indication of your longing to only see love and joy in his life. If only you knew that’s everything you give him. “Did watch a mate o’ mine shoot his pellet gun at some pumpkins one year, if that makes you feel any better.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt to make you laugh, digging your spoon a little harder into the sides of your own gourd as if it were the one to have wronged you.

“Well then I’m glad I ignored you and got them anyways.” You declare, giving each pumpkin a loving little pat on its side. Simon had told you outside the grocery store, seeing your eyes land on the bright orange displays outside the shop, that they weren’t necessary.

But the both of you knew he would never deny you anything you wanted, and so he ended up carrying the two large pumpkins under each bicep and to the car himself, not letting you lift a finger.

“How’s the inside of yours looking?” You ask him, coming around to his side of the table, affectionately running a hand through the strands of hair at the base of his skull, glancing into the pumpkin he tilts in your direction for you to see. You can feel a shiver go through him at your touch, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

You’re glad he’s home with you, where he can relax, allow his biggest stresses to be his girlfriend ogling his arms as he carved open the tops of pumpkins and gutted them with efficiency.

“You’d have to tell me, love, but I think that’s as empty as it’s gettin’.” He emphasizes by tapping his spoon on the side of the sphere, listening to the dull, hollow echo it gives.

“Looks perfect. Nice work, Simon.” You tell him, planting a quick kiss to his cheek before hopping back over to your seat, leaving him looking a few shades redder than before. “Know what you’re gonna carve?”

“It’s- it’s just a face, innit?” At your question, Simon finds himself pausing. He might have had a different childhood than most, but he wasn’t daft, he knew what a jack o lantern was supposed to look like. Carved eyes, a wicked grin or large frown, sometimes even a nose in between them both.

He didn’t consider himself to be a crafty person, but he’d been a butcher for crying out loud, he could carve some shapes into a pumpkin until it resembled a face, no problem. So why are you asking him about what he’s going to carve.

“Well yeah, that’s the go to, for sure. A classic.” You reassure him, noticing the slight tension returning to his shoulders. “You can carve a face, my love. Some people just do different, they get creative with it.” Shrugging, you grab the marker you’d set aside, beginning to map out the lines for where you plan on carving your own design. You’re distracted, eyes darting between your sketching and your phone where you’ve got the inspiration photo pulled up for reference.

You don’t notice Simon’s eyes squinting ever so slightly at you before darting to the pumpkin in front of him. ‘Get creative with it’? Is that what you’re doing? Is that what you’re expecting him to do? Hoping he’ll do? He glances over at you again and notices you’ve got a bloody reference photo and everything??

He finds his cheeks beginning to burn for a different reason now, feeling stupid over not realizing you could carve more than the standard jack o lantern faces as a tradition. Obviously, you can carve anything you want into a fuckin’ pumpkin, he just didn’t know, he hasn’t done this before, and now he’s gone from feeling almost confident to worried he’s about to make a fool out of himself over something as childish as this.

“Simon.” You say, always more in tune with him than he realizes. “It’s okay, carve anything you want. I’m excited to see what you make.” You smile warmly at him across the table, a small socked foot going to nudge his ankle as well. “Believe it or not, this is supposed to be fun.”

He scoffs at your joke but doesn’t fight the smile that etches onto his face in return. He accepts your distraction when you ask if you should put on some music in the background, walking towards the record player. As he flips through the stack of vinyls, he thinks about just that, what he could possibly carve into that bloody orange sphere sat on his kitchen table, that would be fun.

Searching through any memories he considers as being ‘fun’, he finds a common factor: you. And there’s one more reoccurring element sewn into the fabric of those treasured memories as well: your laughter.

With that in mind, it’s actually quite easy for Simon to decide on what he’ll do finally. And almost an hour later, after you’ve put your blood, sweat and tears into your own pumpkin carving and deciding that the results ended up being just meh, Simon has decided that he’s undeniably the winner of the evening when he spins his creation around and has you nearly crying with laughter, insisting between wheezed breaths that he’s going to make you pee your pants, only leading to Simon’s own laughter bellowing out.

Not too bad for his first time learning.

~~~~~~~~~~

(The kind of pumpkin I’ve decided Ghost would carve 😂)

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neferaskingdom · 27 days ago

Text

♡ Not a Golfer, Just a Guy in Love | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader [Face Claim: None]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Summary: Charles has no business on a golf course, but he’s willing to lose every ball (and his dignity) if it means getting her attention

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

check out my other works: Masterlist

Carlos leaned back in his chair, idly spinning a golf ball between his fingers as he glanced at you with a grin. “Alright, hermana, tomorrow morning? New golf course, 9 AM sharp?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Carlos, we both know you’ll show up at least fifteen minutes late.”

“Not this time!” he declared. “This course is legendary. Plus, you need the practice.”

“Oh, so now I’m the one who needs practice?” You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow. “Last time, I recall someone missing the hole five times in a row.”

Lando snickered from across the table, catching the end of the conversation. “Five times, Carlos? At this rate, maybe I should join to show you both how it’s done.”

Carlos threw him a mock glare. “Fine, come along, then. Just don’t cry when I show you up.”

“Sure thing, mate,” Lando replied, folding his arms with a smirk.

Charles, sitting nearby and pretending to read a magazine, couldn’t help but eavesdrop. He tried to keep his cool, but every time you were around, it was a little harder than he’d like to admit. And now here you were, laughing and planning a whole day with Carlos and Lando.

He cleared his throat, stepping over as casually as he could manage. “Hey, so… golf tomorrow, huh?”

Carlos looked up, surprised. “Yep. Why?”

“I was just, uh, thinking,” Charles replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “Maybe I could join you guys.”

Carlos exchanged a glance with Lando, one eyebrow raised. “You? play golf?”

“Yes, I want to play golf,” Charles said, trying to sound like he wasn’t feeling a bit defensive.

Lando let out a small laugh. “Didn’t you once call golf ‘slow torture’?”

“That was a joke,” Charles shot back. “I’m serious. I want to come.”

Carlos looked skeptical. “Right… I mean, you’re welcome, but don’t blame us if it doesn’t go well.”

Charles shrugged, keeping his face neutral. “I’ll be fine.”

The next morning, Charles showed up at the course looking like he’d just stepped out of a golf magazine—crisp polo, checkered pants, even a visor.

Lando barely stifled a laugh. “Who let you dress for the occasion?”

Charles ignored him, glancing over at you. You shot him a smile, making the whole get-up feel somewhat worth it. “I, uh, thought I’d try to look the part.”

Carlos shook his head, trying to hide a grin. “Alright, Lord Percival, let’s see if you can play the part too.”

Charles rolled his shoulders, looking toward the first hole with as much focus as he could muster. He approached the tee, adjusted his grip, tried to channel every golf tip he’d seen on youtube last night—and took the shot.

The ball barely moved, skittering a few feet in front of him.

Lando’s laugh echoed through the course. “Great form, mate. Maybe take a little less ‘concentration’ next time?”

Carlos clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.

Charles clenched his jaw, trying to maintain what little dignity he had left. “It was just the first shot,” he muttered. “Just warming up.”

The next hole wasn’t any better. Charles lined up the shot with as much precision as possible, determined not to make a fool of himself this time.

He swung with a bit too much force—the ball shot out in the wrong direction, rocketing just past Carlos, who ducked, wide-eyed.

Carlos straightened up, hands on his hips as he shot Charles a look. “Are you trying to kill me, or is this your idea of revenge for something?”

Charles cringed, face flushed. “That one… got away from me.”

Lando was practically doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes. “A little? That ball was gunning for Carlos’s head!”

You, meanwhile, gave Charles an encouraging smile. “Hey, at least you’re putting a lot of power into it.”

Charles managed a small, sheepish smile. “Right. Just need to aim better.”

By the third hole, Charles was already looking worse for wear. Sand stuck to his pants, his hair was a mess from the visor, and he’d lost count of how many near-misses he’d had.

Carlos nudged Lando, grinning. “Maybe we should get him a map, just so he can find the right direction.”

“Or a helmet for the rest of us,” Lando added, smirking.

Charles let out a low groan, feeling more than a little defeated. “You two are hilarious,” he muttered, pulling his visor off and running a hand through his hair.

You gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Hey, you’re doing fine. Just… maybe think about where you want the ball to go before you swing.”

“Trust me, I am,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. But the look you gave him was enough to pull a half-smile from him. He was feeling like an absolute disaster out here, but somehow, your encouragement made it all seem less embarrassing.

On the final hole, Charles finally managed to get a decent shot in… except that it went straight for the trees, ricocheted off a branch, and landed almost exactly where it had started.

Carlos was in tears. “Charles, Lord Percival, please stop. I don’t think I can handle any more of this.”

Lando patted Carlos on the back, barely holding back his laughter. “Maybe golf really is slow torture for him.”

Charles sighed, looking down at the golf club in defeat. He glanced over at you, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

But you just grinned, nudging his arm. “You know what, I think i've had enough golf for one day”

He looked at you, blinking. “Wait, really?”

You nodded, looking at Carlos and Lando, who were now fully engrossed in trash-talking each other’s swings. “Yep. And since they’re busy, maybe we should… escape?”

His expression brightened. “Escape?”

“Yeah,” you replied, shooting him a playful look. “We could go get ice cream or something and leave them to their nonsense.”

Charles chuckled, offering you his arm. “Now that sounds like something I can actually do.”

You and Charles settled on a bench a little away from the green, watching Carlos and Lando trying to one-up each other’s swings. The peacefulness of the ice cream break was a much-needed relief after Charles’s disastrous attempt at playing, and the two of you chuckled quietly as Carlos threw his arms up dramatically over a missed shot.

After a few moments, you glanced at Charles, breaking the silence. “So, be honest… why’d you really want to come today?”

He looked startled, caught in the middle of a spoonful. “What—me?” he stammered, almost dropping his ice cream. “I mean… golf looked… fun?”

You raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Golf looked fun?”

“Okay,” he admitted, letting out a nervous laugh. “Maybe it’s not exactly my thing.”

“Not exactly?” you teased. “Charles, I’m pretty sure you nearly took Carlos out on the second hole. It’s okay to say you’re not a golf person. especially since in all the years I've known you I’ve never seen you voluntarily pick up a golf club before today”

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… it’s more than just that.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, waiting for him to go on.

Charles seemed to wrestle with himself, glancing away and then back at you, his cheeks a little pinker. “It’s just… I always see you out here with Carlos and thought, maybe if I… tagged along, we’d get to… you know… hang out a bit.”

You stared at him, surprised. “You… wanted to come just to spend time with me?”

He gave a small, almost embarrassed smile, nodding. “Yeah. Kind of.”

A blush crept over your cheeks. You looked down at your ice cream, trying not to grin too obviously. “You didn’t have to put yourself through this just for that, you know,” you said softly, glancing back at him.

Charles fumbled, looking even more awkward. “I didn’t know what else to do… You’re always out here with Carlos. And, I don’t know, I thought maybe… if I didn’t make a complete fool of myself, you’d… notice.”

You laughed softly, heart fluttering a bit at the admission. “Trust me, I noticed.” You paused, gathering your thoughts. “But honestly… I’m only here because Carlos insists. He’d drag me out here even if I showed up in pajamas.”

He looked at you, surprised. “Wait—you don’t even like golf?”

You shook your head, grinning. “Not at all. But he acts like I’ll be abandoning him if I say no.”

Charles blinked, looking a bit stunned. “So you’re telling me I didn’t have to go through all of… this?” He gestured to the course in mock agony, earning a laugh from you.

“Not even a little bit,” you said, nudging him. “If I’d known you wanted to hang out, we could’ve done something… less painful.”

He let out a sigh, putting his head in his hands with a dramatic groan. “Great. So I’ve made a total fool of myself and I didn’t even have to.”

You giggled, gently patting his shoulder. “You’re not a fool. Just… maybe a bit misguided.” You took a breath, glancing at him shyly. “But… it’s kind of sweet that you went through all this just to spend time together.”

He looked at you with a mix of hope and nerves. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You felt your heart pound a little faster, fighting the urge to look away. “I mean, it’s… actually really cute.”

Charles seemed to brighten, his smile turning a bit bashful. “I’m glad you think so. Because, well… I was actually kind of hoping… maybe we could do something else? Just the two of us?”

Your heart flipped, and you felt yourself flush. “Like… a date?”

Charles swallowed, his face a deep shade of pink, but he met your gaze. “Yeah. A date.”

A smile spread across your face, and you nudged him gently. “I’d like that.”

He grinned, looking so relieved you couldn’t help but laugh. “Just promise it won’t involve golf?” he asked, giving you a playful, hopeful look.

“Deal,” you replied, grinning. “Maybe next time, we can do something we’re both good at.”

As you both sat there, sharing quiet laughs and stealing glances at each other, Carlos and Lando’s loud arguing over putts became just background noise. For the first time all day, Charles felt like maybe things were going exactly the way they were supposed to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

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ashwhowrites · 4 months ago

Note

Can you do a fic with Eddie x reader and basically hellfire doesn’t know that Eddie has a gf. So when reader stops by the drama room to give him something that he left at her house they’re all surprised and bombard Eddie with questions. They just can’t believe he got a gf and didn’t tell them and he’s all like yea we’ve been dating for months or years and just brags about being with reader

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Secret girlfriend

Eddie liked to keep his life as private as he could. Not that he was embarrassed, but he liked being a mystery to people. He was close with the Hellfire boys, but still didn't let them know everything in his life.

His girlfriend, Y/N, has been in his life for two years. She was the highlight in his life and he liked to keep him all to himself. Wayne loved her, and that's the only other person Eddie would share her with. They started dating her junior year and now she graduated and went to college.

She stayed in Hawkins for him to graduate, which meant everything to him. He knew it was early but he was already thinking of rings where they'd move to, and how big their house would be. He already wanted her until the day he died.

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts as Dustin groaned at his dice roll.

"Damn another miss"

Eddie laughed at Dustin's displeasure, continuing with the campaign. Then there was a knock on the door, and everyone's heads snapped towards it.

"Who's that?" Mike asked

"Whoever it is shall be punished!" Gareth declared as he punched the air. The boys cheered with him, pounding the table as they yelled "punished" over and over.

Eddie walked towards the door with a hard expression as he swung it open. His tongue was ready to lash out but all his words died on his tongue when she stood in front of him.

"Hey, baby!" She squealed, her arms thrown around her boyfriend. Eddie smiled and hugged her back, sneaking a small kiss. She looked gorgeous in her simple jeans and his band T-shirt, with marks on her neck from the night before.

"There's my girl," Eddie said as his eyes checked her out.

"Who is it?" Dustin called after him, Eddie's body blocking the visitor.

"Boys, this is my sexy girlfriend, Y/N. Behave yourselves." He instructed, stepping aside. The boys stared as the girl walked through, shock written in their eyes.

"Hi, I've heard a lot about you," Y/N said politely as she walked in with a smile. Eddie stood behind her, reaching forward to wrap his arm around her.

"But-but we heard nothing about you. What is going on?" Dustin asked as he stood up. He walked over to the couple and held out his hand. "I'm Dustin, practically Eddie's best friend."

Y/N smiled and shook the small boy's hand.

"That's my bad. I keep her all to myself." Eddie said, snuggling his face into her neck. She laughed as his nose moved back and forth, making it tickle.

"How long have you been together?" Mike asked. He was also shocked that Eddie kept his girlfriend a secret.

"Two years," Eddie shrugged, planting a wet kiss on her cheek as he let her go. He put his hand on Dustin's head and turned him around. He walked back to the table, everyone still staring at her.

"TWO YEARS?" Gareth screamed, "I've known you since middle school, and you don't tell me you have a serious relationship?"

"Like I said, I like her all to myself. Now dear, how can I help you?" Eddie asked with a smirk. He sat at the head of the table and moved his arms behind his head.

She walked over and pulled a notebook out of her bag. "Figured you'd need this."

Eddie gasped as she passed over his notebook. "I've been looking everywhere for this." He was quick to grab the book and open it up. All his campaign ideas were written in his sloppy handwriting.

"Yeah I found it under my bed this morning, and I have no clue how you managed that," she laughed.

"I can think of a few ways," Gareth muttered. His comment was met with a smack on the back of the head from Eddie. The heaviness of Eddie's rings added more pain to his skull.

"I said behave," Eddie warned, but he kept his eyes on his girl.

"Thank you, baby," Eddie said as he stood up. He pulled her into a slow and teasing kiss. She whined when he pulled away, needing more.

"I'll see you tonight," she said against his lips, stealing one more kiss before she turned to leave.

"I love you," Eddie called out after her. She looked over her shoulder as she opened the door.

"I love you too," she smiled.

As the door behind her closed, she could hear all the boys bombing Eddie with questions all at once.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #ashwhowrites

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whatswrong7 · 5 months ago

Text

been seeing some stuff abt reader being accused of being a rat/mole in the 141 task force and getting tortured by their team who won't believe reader when they say it's not them. But my heart can't handle angst, and I've come up with my own twist on the idea.

You're not on the 141 task force specifically, but maybe another task force? Or maybe you were just a regular soldier. Either way, you were on the field with Simon before he joined the task force, and you'll hang out with him outside of deployment every so often. In your head, you two are friends, and even that may be pushing it. Little do you know how fucking obsessed Simon is with you.

So it makes sense that he's not exactly pleased when he comes back from a month long deployment to find someone has framed you for giving info to enemies. While he was gone, people you'd come to love and trust turned on you without a second thought, not listening to any of your pleas or begging as you were tortured. For 3 weeks, in fact, before the source had been proven faulty, and you were rushed to medical care, barely holding onto your life.

The person telling Simon this didn't even get to finish as they were practically run over as he sprinted to the little ward. There was a line of former comrades and what he assumes is your sergeant looking ashamed outside the room, presumably because you didn't want to see them. Rage burned in his stomach as he took in their faces, his teeth need skin to rip apart, his feet need to crack bone under his heavy boots, and his fingers itched to return everything they'd done to his beloved in triplicate. Later, he reminds himself. His darling needed him right now.

When he swung open the door, and your head snapped to look at him instantly. Betrayal and rage obvious in your expression until you saw who it was. Your brows softened, your lower lip trembled, and your pretty eyes had a glassy look.

Simon quickly made his way over to you, cupping your face in his big hands as he looked down at you. Neither of you said anything as your sad wet eyes met his, until he started getting distracted by the multitude of cuts and white bandages contrasting against your skin.

His head filled with violent thoughts, but when you redirected his gaze to you, it all left his head as he met your lips gently, murmuring comfort and support.

You did eventually get better, and you actually got transferred to the task force that your new boyfriend Simon was in. How lucky. How convenient is it that as the years go by with him, more and more members of your old team mysteriously disappeared. The one who had caused you the most pain was declared missing the day before you and Simons wedding.

Obviously you weren’t stupid, you knew it was him. But rather than be creeped and frightened, you found it incredibly romantic, if not for the fact that he wouldn’t let you help, insisting that you shouldn’t be bothered with the corpses of such filth.

#Dark! Simon #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #Tw yandere #yandere #yandere ghost #yandere simon #yandere simon riley #Yandere x reader

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msmk11 · 4 months ago

Text

Just Like All the Other Angry Boyfriends Before

James Potter x Hufflepuff!fem!reader

WC: 4.2k

CW: angst; hurt/comfort; fluff; idiots

Summary: Two idiots in love who don’t know how to handle their emotions properly- aka school dance drama

A/n: yall said you wanted this fic even tho I lowkey hate it, so here it is!

Shrill squeals echo through the stone corridor as you make your way to the Great Hall after class. You turn the corner to find a group of girls surrounding Alice Fortescue and Frank Longbottom. Alice is blushing profusely as you hear her declare, “yes I’ll go to the formal with you!”

Frank whoops excitedly and draws Alice into a warm embrace. There are more squeals from the girls, so high pitched you’re sure they’ve shattered your ear drums. As you pass the happy couple, you smile at them warmly and share your congratulations. On the inside, however, you grimace. You’re no antagonist to fun, really, but as the winter formal continues to approach closer and closer, and you are still without a date, you find yourself beginning to reject the idea of any formal at all. It’s not that you have a lack of options either- plenty of people have asked you- but rather, you’ve been holding off in hopes that a certain special someone will.

Begrudgingly, you accept that if you put things off much longer, you will be dateless. And while you’re not necessarily opposed to going alone, you’d rather not when nearly all your friends have dates. Lily has Mary, Marlene has Dorcas, Alice has Frank, and Remus has Sirius.

That leaves you and James.

Although you’re a Hufflepuff, you throw your stuff down onto the Gryffindor table and plop into a seat next to Lily. You huff dejectedly and rest your head on her shoulder, “Why does everyone have to be all happy and in love? It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid honey, you’re just bitter because P-“

You slap your hand over her mouth and glare at her, “SHH there’s people around.”

“Right, sorry,” she replies, prying your hand off her mouth.

“Also…” she pauses and sniffs your hand, “is that a new lotion? What scent is it?”

Before you can answer, you’re interrupted by Mary who sits down on the other side of Lily and kisses her on the cheek.

“Uh, babe, why are you sniffing her hand?”

“I’m not weird, I swear! She’s the one who shoved her hand in my face. I just wanted to know what lotion she was using.”

Mary gives the two of you questioning looks.

“Potter” Lily mouths.

Mary nods in understanding and smirks. She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as she shifts her attention to the raven-haired boy a few seats down.

“Still waiting for him to ask you?”

“Mhmmm.”

“You know, it is the 20th century, you could try asking him for a change.”

“Excellent idea, love! Oi, Potter, come here,” Lily shouts.

You glare at them in panic and mumble, “I hate you both.”

James looks up from his conversation with his friends and slides down the bench towards you.

“We have a very important question for you,” Lily says.

You glare at her once again, “I think Lily here is actually far over exaggerating the importance of the question. I’m sure whatever discussion you were having with Remus, Peter, and Sirius was much more urgent.”

James chuckles, “It’s the opposite actually. Remus and Sirius were arguing over what they are wearing to the formal. So really, you saved me.”

You let out the most pitiful laugh, cursing your luck.

“So… what is this very important question you wanted to ask me?”

You attempt to act nonchalant as you ask him if he has a date for the formal yet.

“Oh, the formal? Not yet, though I have a few options in mind. But if you’re implying you want to go together, I’m totally down.”

You’re pretty sure your heart skips a beat.

“I mean, I don’t want you to go alone while everyone else in the friend group has a date.”

This time, your heart drops.

“Oh, so you don’t mind doing me a favor and taking me to the formal?” You ask, an accusing tone to your voice.

“Right, that’s what friends are for,” he says, innocently.

Nail in the coffin.

“So, let me get this straight. You’ll only go with me because you feel sorry for me and because you don’t think I can get a date to the formal?” you ask angrily.

“No I-“ he begins defensively.

“Well you should know, Potter, that I do have a date to the formal, and I was only asking if you had one because I was worried you were going to be the one going alone.”

“Wait! You’re going with someone?!” He says, shocked.

“Don’t act so surprised. Just because I’m ‘one of the guys’ to you doesn’t mean I’m not desirable to other people,” you retort.

Then, you stand up and snatch your books off the table. As you storm away you hear him yell, “Wait, but who are you going with?”

Great question.

*****

Back in the Hufflepuff dorms, you sit in one of the common room chairs stewing over your recent interaction with James. While your initial reaction was anger, time has led way to more intense feelings of hurt. While he didn’t outwardly reject you, the sting of the friend zone was just as painful. You needed to move on, but with who?

The universe seems to answer your question in the form of Amos Diggory.

Amos Diggory- an arrogant, handsome, girlfriend-stealer, with an intense fear of commitment. He would be perfect.

No foreigner to flirting, you put on your most charming smile and call out, “Hey Diggory…”

He looks in your direction and you motion for him to come sit. He smiles at his friends and shoos them away. As Amos comes and sits down next to you you know that, if this goes according to plan, you will royally piss James off. The two rival in looks and on the quidditch field, and James cannot stand Amos.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says, looking you up and down.

“So, you, uh, have a date to the formal yet?”

“No, I prefer to go alone. So my options are open.”

You smirk teasingly, “What if I can convince you to change your mind?”

Amos smiles at you seductively, “I’m listening.”

“Well, you like to go to these things alone so you can entertain the attentions of many girls. But, if you go with one girl, me, you’ll get even more attention. What is going to happen when all of the girls at Hogwarts think that the Amos Diggory is off the market?”

“You have me intrigued,” he says, “And how are you not in Slytherin with that devious little mind of yours?”

“I prefer to keep it my little secret.”

Then, you lean closer to him, “Though I guess it’s our little secret now.”

Amos is falling perfectly into your trap, and you know that he already wants to kiss you. You pull away before he even gets the chance.

“Before I agree, what’s in this for you?” He asks.

“Revenge on James Potter…”

If your flirting hadn’t fully won him over, this does.

*****

In the evening, you make your way to the Gryffindor common room where you always do homework with your friends. Though James, Peter, and Sirius consistently show up late, you make sure to leave extra early to avoid conversation with James at all costs.

You forget, however, that James sometimes knows you better than you know yourself. So when you arrive, he is already there on the couch, waiting for you. Lily and Remus are spread out on the floor, Mary is sprawled across a red chair, and Dorcas is lying in Marlene’s lap reading her textbook while Marlene writes a paper. James shoots up from his seat as you walk in.

“Hey! Can we talk?” He asks anxiously.

Although they pretend to hide it, you know your friends are secretly listening. Still, you don’t care.

“No, James, we can’t. Although it may be uncharted territory, you and I are in what people call a fight. So just let me be.”

“But shouldn’t we talk?”

“No, James. I don’t want to talk. Not right now.”

The fight leaves his body and he retreats, “fine. I’ll just leave you be.”

He grabs his stuff and goes up to his dorm as you settle yourself in his place.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Remus asks softly.

“Maybe,” you say, “But I’m sick of always downplaying my feelings to protect his. It’s not fair to me.”

Lily grabs your hand, “you’re right, it’s not fair. And I’m sorry for pushing all of this on you, it wasn’t my place.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” Mary adds.

“Well, I’m not. This just encouraged me to get over my silly little crush and focus my attentions on someone who will actually take interest in me. There are plenty of people out there.”

“Hell yeah there are!” Marlene says encouragingly.

Dorcas smacks her arm, “Marlene! James is one of your best friends!”

“So is she! I love them both, but she’s right, she needs to do what’s best for her.”

“Just don’t push him away completely,” Dorcas tells you seriously.

“I won’t,” you sigh, “He‘s still so important to me. It just won’t be in the way that I hoped.”

Silence falls over the group.

“Who fucking died?”

Everyone jumps and turns to look in the direction of the voice. Behind you stands Sirius and Peter, both with perplexed looks on their faces.

“James, after she fucking tore him apart earlier,” Marlene replies, motioning to you.

Peter nods as he plops down by your feet, “Oh right! I heard about that.”

Sirius smacks you upside the head, “Yeah, what was that all about?”

“He basically called me a fucking unattractive loser. What else was I supposed to do?” You say, smacking him back.

“I think you’re over-exaggerating just a little bit,” Mary responds cautiously.

“I mean, I think he was just trying to be nice. Maybe it hurt because he essentially friendzoned you?” Lily adds.

“Wait, do you have a crush on James?” Sirius asks you.

“Sirius, have you really never noticed?” Remus responds disbelievingly.

Sirius only shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay, I get it, I get it. James is the perfect golden boy and I’m just another one of Potter’s stupid fangirls who follows him blindly and makes a fool of themselves.”

“Honey no,” Lily starts, “it’s not that it’s-“

“Can you not lecture me, please?” You interrupt, “Maybe I overreacted, but is it so wrong to be angry about being pitied. Especially by someone you really care about?”

“No, it’s not,” Peter tells you, “I get it.”

“Thank you,” you respond dejectedly.

It’s quiet for a moment and you’re stuck stewing in your own self-loathing.

Then, Lily speaks up again, “Uhm, I have one more question, and then I’ll drop the subject.”

You nod, encouraging her to continue.

“Who are you going to take to the formal? Because you told James you had a date, even though you didn’t.”

“Oh, yeah, uhmmm about that…” you say, laughing nervously.

“What rash thing did you do now?” Dorcas asks.

“I may or may not have asked Amos Diggory to be my date to the dance…. And he said yes.”

Marlene laughs loudly, “Oh shit!”

*****

To avoid conflict, you decide that it’s best for you to go to the formal with Amos and his friends rather than string him along with yours. Tension is already high between James and you, and you know Amos’ being there would only make things worse. You try to push it out of your mind, but you can’t help wondering who James is taking to the formal with him. You picture all the prettier, smarter, and better girls he could be going with, and your stomach begins to ache. You are also worried about what people will say in relation to you going with Amos.

Your thoughts start to spiral. Will people hate you? Will James hate you? Is your dress all wrong? Will you be the worst dressed there? The anxieties are endless and there seems to be no relief in sight.

Still, you push through and doll yourself up, masking your true feelings behind layers of hairspray, makeup, and itchy fabric. Your dress is light blue with a silvery sheer fabric over top, like fresh snow on a frozen lake. The top half is form-fitting with silvery straps, and the bottom spreads outward in a loose skirt. You twist back the front strands of your hair with silver clips and adorn your face with light makeup and shimmery eyeshadow. At promptly eight you drag yourself to the common room where Amos sits with his friends and their dates.

You put on a fake smile, “Amos, you look handsome.”

He looks you up and down, “I know. And you look hot.”

What a gentleman.

You say a polite thank you and avoid some of the stares you’re getting from the other girls. You can tell that some are jealous already, yet they maintain outward politeness, which you’re grateful for.

Amos, at least, extends his arm, which you grab, as you walk towards the Great Hall. Your walk is filled with polite conversation about simple things from quidditch, to class, and plans for the holidays. So far, it’s not as bad as you thought, though you wished you would have just gone dateless with your friends.

You cast these regrets aside, however, when you arrive at your destination. To no one’s surprise, the Hogwarts decorating committee has outdone themselves once again. The typical long, wooden tables are gone and in place is a magnificent white dance floor that seems to shimmer like the snow. Warm, golden globes of light hang from the sky and snowflakes fall from above, though never reaching the ground. The room is an explosion of silvers, whites, and blues, and you’re sure you’ve stepped into a winter wonderland.

“This is just-“ Amos begins.

“Wow” you finish, “Like a winter wonderland.”

“And you’re its queen,” he says.

You blush in spite of yourself.

“Compliments won’t get you a kiss so soon,” you tease, “It’s only eight.”

He bites his lip, “fine. But I can only restrain myself from a beautiful girl so long.”

You laugh lightly and swat him on the shoulder. Then, music begins to play.

Amos motions towards the dance floor, “shall we?”

*****

As James adjusts his tie in the mirror, he can’t help but think about what a pathetic loser he is. Although he’d had plenty of girls who he could have gone to the formal with, he continued to wait, assuming there would be someone better coming along. Who that person was, he wasn’t sure. But now, he was alone.

And then there was you. He doesn't know what happened. One second you two were fine, and then suddenly, you blew up. While he knows that he insulted you, he can’t understand why you are so angry. Sirius said not to overthink it, that girls are just complicated, but you are one of his best friends. He knows there is something else going on and it’s left a terrible pit in his stomach.

“Earth to James!”

“Huh?” He awakes from his trance and notices that Peter is waving his hand in front of his face.

“You ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah.”

They head downstairs and meet up with the rest of the group- Pete and his girl from Ravenclaw, Sirius and Remus, Marlene and Dorcas, Mary and Lily, and you-

Not present because he is an ass.

James wonders who you’re going with.

They all cheer loudly, “James, you look great!”

“Thanks, guys, but it’s you all that look great.”

“Hell yeah we do!” Sirius exclaims.

Everyone laughs and begins to file out the portrait hole down to the Great Hall. Despite being the only dateless friend, James’ spirits are lifted by their jokes and ramblings. When they reach the dance, everyone oohs and aahs over the shimmery decorations. Instantly, James cranes his neck, looking for you in the crowd as he walks with the group towards a table off to the left. As they all set their stuff down, the music begins to play and couples rush to the floor. His friends join them, excited to dance.

“James, you coming?” Sirius asks.

He shakes his head, “next song.”

Sirius shrugs and walks off with Remus. James continues to search the crowd, looking for you. He realizes he doesn’t know what you’re wearing- and he supposes he never asked. James wonders if best friends are supposed to do that sort of thing.

Probably.

It hits him, then. With everything that’s been going on lately- being head boy, quidditch captain, and taking ridiculously hard classes, he’d sort of ignored you. It’s no wonder you’re so angry with him.

James feels totally guilty until he sees you. It’s then, he realizes, that he has a reason to be angry too. There you are, after all his moping and worrying, with Amos fucking Diggory. James knows that he hasn’t been the best of friends lately, but Diggory? That was his rival! You were crossing a line.

But what really bothers him the most is the way you’re laughing at something Diggiry said. He is hardly funny, and has the personality of a piece of paper. And why are you leaning so close to him? He’s not even that attractive or charming.

As you swirl across the dance floor, he watches how your hands hold tightly to Diggory’s shoulders, like he’s your anchor. James also notices Diggory’s hands around your waist, far too close to your ass, and his blood boils. No way would he let his rival feel up his friend.

When the song ends, James begins to stalk towards you two, but is pushed backwards by Sirius and Remus.

“Not worth it mate,” Sirius warns.

“But Padfoot, this is unbelievable. She is unbelievable. How could she ever agree to go with him? She knows how much I hate him, and is just trying to get back at me.”

“Mate, it’s this type of thinking that pushed her into his arms,” Remus mumbles.

“What, what do you mean?”

“James, she asked him to the formal after you basically made her feel like shit. Whether she realized it or not, she turned to who she thought would hurt you the most. She wanted you to feel what she was feeling, even a little bit.”

“It’s not her best decision, but ignoring her wasn’t yours either,” Sirius adds.

James rubs his face tiredly, “God, I know.”

Sirius pats his back, “Just… take a few minutes and then come join us. Don’t let it ruin your night.”

“And while you’re sitting here, maybe reflect a little more on why you’re so upset,” Remus adds.

“Rem-” Sirius says with a warning tone.

He puts his hands up defensively, “I didn’t say anything. Let’s go.”

As they walk away James notices their slight bickering. He laughs at them in spite of himself. Secretly, he’s always been a little bit jealous of their relationship. Though they are far from perfect, they’re comfortable with each other in a way that he can only hope for. He thinks the fact that they were friends for five years before they dated helped. There’s this trust and friendship that is so necessary in order to support the love and passion that comes with romance.

As another song ends, James decides not to get up from his seat. He watches Amos and you some more. While his blood is still boiling, there is a twinge of something else.

“Maybe reflect a little more on why you’re upset.”

*****

Surprisingly, you’re having more fun with Amos than you thought you would. While you would never date him, you appreciate his company tonight. He’s been making you laugh all night, so you’re surprised when another song comes on and he suddenly gets serious.

“You know, gorgeous, I’m not one to waste my time on Potter, but he’s been glaring in our direction for the past fifteen minutes.”

“Just ignore him.”

“I would, but it’s kind of hard when he is burning holes into my head.”

You huff apologetically, “God, I’m so sorry. I hope it’s not ruining your night.”

“Eh, I’m used to Potter throwing temper tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants. He’s clearly just mad he’s not dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room.”

“Pfft, yeah right. He’s just mad that I’m dancing with you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Can I give you my honest opinion?”

You hum in agreement.

“As I’m sure you know, I have a reputation for girlfriend stealing.”

“Yes? And?” You say, confused.

“Well, with stealing girlfriends also comes a lot of angry boyfriends. And Potter over there, he looks exactly like all the angry boyfriends I’ve dealt with, who want to beat the shit out of me.”

“Which makes no sense, because he doesn’t act like a boyfriend whenever we’re together. It’s not fucking fair. He doesn’t want me, but it’s like he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.”

“Listen to me. I may not know what the fuck is going on with you two, but it’s pretty clear to anyone that you guys both have feelings for each other. So, as your date, I think it's my duty to end ours early. We both achieved our goals- all the girls in the room want me, and Potter can’t take his eyes off of you.”

You release a shaky sigh, “Okay, fine.”

As the song ends he releases you and gives you a wink, “Well, for now, this is goodbye. Since I’m sure you’ll be Potter’s girlfriend by the end of the night, I imagine we are going to be mortal enemies from now on. Or until graduation at least.”

You chuckle a little as you straighten his tie one last time.

“Go get him,” he says.

You stand up on your tip toes and kiss him on the cheek, “Bye Diggory. Next time I speak to you, you better be settled down with a nice girl, at 9 ¾, with your rowdy kids for their first year of school.”

He laughs and you part ways for the night. Before you allow yourself to approach James, you walk outside to the courtyard nearby. You lean up against the railing and look out towards the stars. The cool breeze fills your lungs and is comfortable against your hot skin. It’s silent except for the soft notes of music drifting out from the Great Hall.

“So, you and Diggory huh?”

You jump at James’ voice and turn to him, “Yep, and you and the invisible girl. I thought you were Mr. Hotshot, with plenty of girls lined up as possible dates?”

“And I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal.”

You scoff, “It wasn’t personal, James. Just a silly little date to a silly little formal.”

“Bullshit” he yells, “You were mad so you went and found a date that you knew I would hate!”

“God, you are so conceited! Not everything is about you. Maybe I just liked Amos’ company. He’s not all that bad, you know.”

“Oh, so now you’re defending him? Next thing I know there’ll be wedding bells.”

“Maybe there will be. He’s funny, attractive, and actually gives me the time of day!” you retort.

“Just so he can get you into his bed, fuck you, and then ignore you after,” James shouts back.

You stare at each other in silence for a moment.

“I mean, Merlin, is that really what you want? I know it's not my place to give my opinion about who you date or-”

“And that’s the whole problem,” you interrupt.

“What?”

“James, you're my best friend. I want your opinion about these things- even if I don’t always want to hear it. It at least shows you care about me. Lately, it’s like I don’t even exist.”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. You deserve better. A better friend and…” he steps a little closer, “a better romantic interest?”

You let out a small laugh, “romantic interest?”

“What? If this night has shown me anything, I clearly don’t know what- or who- you’re looking for in romance. And that’s on me. But I want that to change from now on.”

You take a deep breath and step even closer to him. You look up into his hazel eyes, your faces so close your noses are almost touching.

“Well, in the name of change, I guess I have to confess, I do have a romantic interest… in you.”

“And as a part of my duties as your best friend, I believe it my responsibility to tell you that… you should go for it.”

Already so close together, you merely stand on your tip toes and lock lips with James. He kisses back and puts his hands around your waist. For a second, he pulls away.

You look up at him with questioning eyes.

His grip on your waist tightens, “I don’t ever want another man’s hands here ever again. It was driving me crazy tonight, the way Amos was touching you.”

You smirk at him, “Jealous are we?”

He grunts in affirmation and pulls you in again. The kiss lasts a few minutes with you up against the railing. At first it’s fast and passionate. But with time it becomes slower and more sweet. More loving.

Eventually, you slowly pull apart. You look at him softly and ask breathlessly, “So, do you have a date to the formal yet?”

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brucewaynehater101 · 3 months ago

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Tim Drake deserves a vacation from WE, honestly i have no idea about business, but i don't think 95% of the fandom has any idea of what a CEO does either so it's okay. after almost 2 years as the CEO of WE, Tim can finally say that the company is at a point where there's nothing he needs to do and it will still thrive, so he finally decides to take a vacation, and since Bruce still hasn't moved a single step to return as CEO no matter how many times Tim implied, if not outright told him to take back the position, he decides to kill two birds with one stone and make Bruce take the position back, by publicly spending the biggest amount possible in this vacation.

But that's where the first issue appears, despite being rich since he was born, Tim never spent that much money needlessly, Brucie used to spend money on the models he was dating before he became known as a single father, but there's no way that Tim could trust some random models, and he has a boyfriend, so that's out.

But he does have very handsome/beautiful friends that can and have followed him to hell, so surely they wouldn't mind fake dating him and his bf, and who doesn't like spending money, so he called Kon, Bart and Cass to meet with Bernard and he explained his plan, they accepted it way easier than Tim thought and so the vacation began, Tim doubted Bruce last more than a day before taking the company back once the whole world saw Tim Drake on a vacation spending thousands of dollars on his 'harem'.

Two months later the plan failed successfully.

first things first, the vacation was great and it only took Tim 3 weeks before he realized he never told the others that the polycule was fake so they went in this vacation thinking that Tim just decided they should all date and didn't even argue because they're used to Tim being right about pretty much anything, the hardest sell was Bernard and even then it was really fast for him to accept once he saw them and when he saw how much they loved Tim, so by the end Tim was well rested and gained two boyfriends and a girlfriend.

Second thing, all of Tim's partners have rock solid morals*, so when Tim said he wanted them to spend thousands of dollars they all assumed Tim was offering to donate for their charities of choice, so by the end of the vacation Tim donated millions to charities, founded at least 10 new charities, began a 5-year plan to end world hunger, and was awarded a nobel Peace prize.

Third thing, Bruce did indeed try to take over two days into Tim's vacation, the board all laughed as if Brucie had said a funny joke, he played it off but Lucius called Alfred later, Bruce then realized that Tim is too loved by Gotham and WE for him to justify taking the company from him, besides that Tim made sure that the company was safe from takeover and bribes, so even if he wanted to there's no way for Bruce to buy the board members, the final nail on his coffin was that Alfred grounded him once he heard from Lucius, Bruce tried to argue that he was too old to be grounded so he was grounded for twice as long.

In the end despite still being CEO, Tim was happy and well rested, even if he's surprised that Bruce genuinely didn't want to be CEO anymore, he thought for sure Bruce would ask him for the position back.

meanwhile Bruce spent the entire 2 months he was grounded for playing mental 3d chess to plan on how to get the company back, but he didn't even consider asking Tim to be CEO again, so he just brooded the whole time.

Absolutely fabulous. My favorite part is how YJ doesn't even question Tim being all like, "Yeah. We should all date for one of my plans."

They heard that and figured dating each other and Bernard is probably in their best interests since Tim declared it so. Obviously. This is Tim.

They are also not opposed to it either. Again. This is Tim. They may not yet be sold on Bernard, but Tim's reassured them it's fine (Tim was trying to tell them that Bernard is okay with the fake dating and he's sure they would get along great). [It also doesn't help that Tim's reasonings were: "You're all very attractive and I trust you"]

The best part is that Tim reassured them five separate times that they do not have to go through with it. YJ and Bernard thought he was just trying to make sure everyone was on board with trying to date each other. Tim just didn't want anyone to be uncomfortable fake dating.

I would absolutely love to see how this goes down.

Bart, Kon, Cassie, and Bernard are all flirting with each other and Tim. Tim, meanwhile, is sitting there all like, "Wow! They are acting so well! I'm so glad I can count on my friends (and boyfriend)!"

He's an idiot (affectionate).

He's also an idiot cause they've had many many discussions on boundaries and such with him (they also had a few without him due to Tim being the original tie between YJ and Bernard).

The best part would be if Bernard and the others figure it out before Tim. This thus turns into everyone else trying woo Tim into the concept. Bernard, as the official boyfriend, leads the charge. They are also very very careful to check what Tim thinks about polyamory and his comfort levels.

Anyways, let's cover the other sections (I got a bit distracted).

I have no clue what a CEO does but, in my biased opinion, Tim definitely does way more than he's required to. All he needs to do is go to a few meetings, review paperwork, and make decisions regarding the direction of the company/investors. He loves the R&D and charity (not sure the official name) departments too much, though.

He does get involved in other departments as well. It's not his favorite task, but Tim reviews employee contracts when they renew and employee benefits to ensure employees are getting well-above what's considered "fair" or "legal" (4 month parental leave, paid guaranteed lunch breaks, Rogue insurance coverage, double national requirements for sicktime [this is Gotham], medical bills assistance, daycare options, etc). This is why WE loves him.

Tim doesn't want to work as a CEO, but he does love seeing how much he can help others through his civilian work (and learning that he doesn't need to be Robin to save people).

Bruce was laughed out of the office, and Mr. Fox (I love him so much. He deserves all of my respect) was justified in ratting him out to Alfred.

Maybe when Tim returns the two of them start working together so Bruce is more involved with his company (behind the scenes but not in a way that steps on Tim's toes or undermines his authority).

#tim drake #bruce wayne #core four #dc au #thank you for the ask!!!!#bernard dowd

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leighsartworks216 · 2 months ago

Text

There Is No Love Purer Than Mine

Sylus x gn!Reader

Based on a video I can't find where a girl on one of those dating tv shows says "I love you" to a guy, and he asks her to repeat it again and again as his voice cracks. It's always stuck with me, and now I'm pulling it out of cold storage

Warnings: kissing, crying, declarations of love, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 625

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The words stole the air from your lungs. You stare at Sylus, wide-eyed and trying to remember how to breathe, while he has the audacity to lounge nonchalantly against the sofa and watch.

He smirks at your reaction. His arms are stretched along the back of the couch. His sweater steals the intimidation from his face and invites you to curl into his side. You had been, moments ago, but then he said… He said…

“What’s the matter, kitten?” he asks. It’s playful, but his arm falls to brush a hand against your cheek, betraying the real concern behind the bravado.

You swallow. Your voice comes out as a whisper, still breathless and shaky. “Say it again.”

His smirk softens into a smile. He brushes some hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Again.”

This time, he sits forward. His other arm reaches out to hold your hand where it sits in your lap. He says it reverently. “I love you.”

It feels like your body has been dunked in a cold bath. Chills run up your arms. Your chest feels tight. He pulls your blanket tighter around you. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. “Again…”

“I love you.” He leans forward until your foreheads touch. “I love you.” He cups your cheek and brushes away a tear with his thumb. His eyes never leave yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch - pressing your forehead insistently against his, tilting your face into his hand, shifting closer on the couch. Tears stick to your eyelashes before they fall down your cheeks. He brushes them away diligently. You squeeze his hand tightly.

“Is this okay?” he asks, voice low and gentle.

You nod immediately. His long fingers curl around your jaw, fingertips in your hair, holding you to him.

“I love you.”

It’s so soft you almost don’t feel it. The brush of his lips over yours. If you hadn’t feel his breath warming them, you wouldn’t have realized at all. You crack your eyes open to watch when you tilt your chin up, seeking a full, proper kiss.

He answers your demand. Stuttered and solid breaths merge, gasping every time your lips separate, preparing for the next moment they connect. Over and over. The salt of the popcorn clings to his lips, complimenting the salt of your tears. His tongue carries the distinct fruitiness of his wine as it seeks yours out. Tempered moans and sighs pass between each other.

When he pulls away, you strain your neck forward for more, but he presses his thumb to your lips instead. You blink your eyes open at him, glistening and red from crying.

For a second, you’re scared. Scared he’ll take it back. Scared he’ll toss you aside, laugh in your face, leave you behind. Scared he’ll leave a scar on your heart that will never fully mend.

But he doesn’t.

He kisses the corner of your mouth. Your cheek. Under your eye. Over your closed eyelid. When he pulls back, he doesn’t stray far.

“Come here, my beloved,” he coos as he pulls you into his side. You wrap your arms around his torso, bury your wet face into his sweater. He wraps both arms around you, too, a silent promise not to let go.

The movie is just background noise now. You have no idea what’s happening in the story and you can’t give a damn. When you rest your chin against him to look at his face, he’s not watching either.

“I love you…” you whisper, tentative. Testing the shark-infested waters and trusting he’ll save you.

And he does.

“I love you, too, kitten.”

---

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #hurt/comfort

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citricacidprince · 2 months ago

Note

could you draw the courtroom scene with relativity falls? (mabels bubble)

Gladly!!! I’ve already brought up some Stan Weirdmageddon Bubble stuff here, but the equivalent of the Mabel Trial for Stan makes me wanna blow up I just adore it!!

Okay, so first things first, here’s Captain Stan’s design, my precious baby boy <3

Figured it’d be fun to mix some aspects of Grunkle Stan’s Mr. Mystery outfit with a pirate twist, just for fun!

As for the ‘trial’, its more of a argument between two boys who just WONT talk about their issues

Fiddleford, Boyish Dan, and Anjelita are also there, but Stan isn’t mad at them. In fact, he doesn’t even care that they’re breaking the rules by being there, he’s only mad at Ford. He’s mad that Ford was just going to leave him behind and send Stan back to New Jersey by himself while he stayed and studied with their Grunkle Dipper. Leaving Stan all by himself at home. Alone to deal with their father. Alone with no friends. Alone to be the family disappointment.

But no matter how mad he gets at Ford, Stan can’t ever say that he’s hates him, and Stan would give him a million chances to fix things. So, instead of immediately throwing Ford off the deck of his ship, he gives him an ultimatum. A very easy solution to all of this.

All Ford has to do is say that he’s sorry, and Stan would let him go. He won’t leave the bubble because he actually really likes it in there, but he’ll let Ford go.

This.. doesn’t end very well

Stan, absolutely heartbroken, decides to make his brother walk the plank. If he’s dead to Ford, well then Ford is dead to him as well.

However, right before his crew could push Ford into the water, something happened.

You see, when Stan unknowingly gave the rift to Bill he only had one wish. That he’d never be alone again. So when he first appeared in his bubble it was actually completely dark and empty, except for a small light glowing in his hands. It was a little version of Ford. He smiled and laughed just like he did when they were a bit younger, and he said everything Stan wanted to hear.

Very quickly Stan realized he could manipulate the bubble and create anything that he wanted, just like he could back in the Mindscape. So he created what he knew. Glass Shard Beach, New Jerseys. It was full of never ending boardwalks, houses and attractions with silly names, and that beach he loved so much. It didn’t take long after that to realize it was still quite lonely, even with Lil’ Ford (a name he lovingly gave the small version of his brother). However, he didn’t want the town to be full of faceless nobodies or people he actually knew, that’d be weird.

Then he had the genius idea to just fill the town with himself! After all, he never had to worry about himself betraying him or leaving him behind!

Soon the town was overrun with imperfect duplicates of himself and he couldn’t have been any happier.

However, the duplicates were so much like him that it soon made a new problem arise. They started asking about Ford. Like, ‘Where is he?’ ‘Can you make one?’ ‘I miss having him around.’

Stan did have Lil’ Ford hidden under his pirate hat, but he didn’t want to tell the other Stans that he was there. He didn’t know exactly why he kept Lil’ Ford hidden away. Probably a mixture of bitterness and anger still aimed at his real twin brother and a selfishness to keep Lil’ Ford to himself. So he just declared that Fords were banned altogether and left it at that.

This was a problem when right as Stanford was about to pushed off the plank, Lil’ Ford came out from under the Captain’s hat and told Stan to stop all of this.

The two bicker for a moment and some Stans ask who that is, causing Lil’ Ford to happily state that he’s Stanley’s brother, that the two are going to sail the world together, and that he loves Stan very dearly.

This doesn’t go over well with literally any of the Stan on board and it especially doesn’t go over well with Ford

The Stans pull a mutiny and try to kill Stan because they don’t think he should be Captain anymore and one of them should run the town instead.

Hard cut to Boyish Dan, Anjelita, Fiddleford, Ford, and Stan having a high speed boat chase with other Stans and popping the bubble while escaping. (I like to think Stan popped the bubble at the last second with the help of Shanklin <3 )

Stan is NOT happy about having to leave his Weirdmageddon bubble.

“You should have left me in there. I was HAPPY there.”

“Who cares if you were happy, you were living a lie! A sad delusion! You should be happy we pulled you out of there!”

Boyish Dan has it cut in before the two start fighting right then and there

Stan eventually calms down enough to decide that he’s going to save their Grunkle Dipper from Bill, but there is a thick tension between Stan and Ford that last until the huge blow out fight at the Cipher Wheel

A fight that started because Stan wanted Ford to finally say it.

‘I’m Sorry.’

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yourlocalzombiewriter · 3 months ago

Text

And I don't even like you that much!

Wait…, I do…, fuck

(Black myth wukongs head-canons)

Author note: hi!, I’m not that use to writing and English is not exactly my first language so there might be a lot of spelling mistakes.

And this is my first time writing for Sun wukong (Black myth) so he might not seem in character, if that makes sense. Either way I hope you enjoy!

★ ✵ ★

Assuming you two are already dating, and he’s comfy around you, please prepare for some chaotic moments.

Not a single Moment is dry nor empty with this mischievous monkey.

From spooking you with a clone of himself, or annoying your with one of his many transformations, he never runs out of ideas to surprise you with.

That being said, he is a bit laid back now depending on what period you’re dating him. After the events of journey to the west, he is way more calmer then his “younger” self.

He enjoys the simplicity of day to day activities now, cuddling, cleaning up a small section in which you both share. Or laying out under a tree with you as you read to him.

Those small moments mean much more to him now.

He loves to pridefully declare his fearlessness and having no such thing as “a biggest fear”. But at night that’s quickly disproven, sometimes he uncharacteristically sits in silence. Mind making up fake scenarios of your demise that could have been caused by him, his reputation, his enemies. He has a silent vow to himself to protect you first with his immortal life, no matter the cost and punishment he may endure.

An uncomfortable fear of having something of value so precious, so fragile is almost to much to handle. He doesn’t look down upon you mortal or not, but he will still fret for your safety. He’s so tired of losing things he holds dear, and after not having that feeling for centuries before you came along, he almost gets so wrapped up in the possibility of losing you, he loses sight that he has you right now.

He loves picking you up at random times, doesn’t need to be a situation where you need to be picked up he’ll just do it. No matter height or weight he loves seeing you shocked and giggling.

His most sensitive parts are definitely his tail and ears, maybe his nose too. If you kiss him from ear all across his cheek to his nose, he swears all his immortal lives end there from how his hearts pumping.

He does plan on marrying you, makes it very vocal too in the beginning to make sure you know what your committing to.

Loves when you comb and pick at his fur, don’t even get started on complementing it. He’ll easily sit between your legs for hours as you comb through the top of his head, getting rid of knots and such.

He wraps his tail absentmindedly when you stand near him. He doesn’t really even acknowledge it happening, it usually wraps around your ankle or thigh Or lazily around your hips.

Watches you as you sleep, not even in a creepy way he just has to take time to appreciate you for just your mere existence.

Spoils you with fruits, peaches especially of course, but he mixes it up here to there. Sometimes he just comes waltzing in with buckets if not wagons of ripe fruit from different regions.

When you hurriedly say you cannot eat that much before they wither, he’ll just laugh. Because he knows he can so whatever you leave over he finishes it off happily. But if your generous your free to share with the other demon monkeys on the island.

He likes carrying you in his arms while he rides his nimbus cloud.

You can point to random spots and he’ll happily zoom on over there to let you explore. Of course with him trailing closely behind you.

(I’m aware that in most tellings of journey to the west they say picking up a mortal from the ground is almost impossible, but I’m gonna dismiss that. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

He likes lounging around with you on slow afternoon’s cuddling and engorging in different types of luxuries.

He loves taking you to hot springs, and enjoying time there together relaxing. That or a near by waterfall he frequents.

If he sees something you may like he just snatches it, doesn’t really matter to him where he took it, half of the time he doesn’t know himself. As long as it is worthy to be appreciated by you.

He takes naps on you, just asks you to lay down and then lays on your chest or stomach and falls into a comatose state for a good while.

★ ✵ ★

That’s all I have for right now, I hope these were enjoyable to read!.

( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾

#x reader #black myth wukong #sun wukong x reader #jttw sun wukong #general headcanons #romantic headcanons #first writing #i hope you like it #sorry for poor spelling #sun wukong #x reader headcanons #wukong x reader #sun wukong x y/n #wukong x y/n #x you #x y/n #jttw

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coco-loco-nut · 8 months ago

Text

Miss Americana

Pairing: Lando Norris x American!Reader

Summary: Moments with Lando and his silly, American, girlfriend

TW: AMERICA! RAHH🦅

a/n: i wrote this super quick bc the ideas were bombarding me at work and it is not proofread. it’s also silly and stupid as an apology for my last oneshot which seemed to break y’all.

requests are open! masterlist part two

—————————————————

Lando didn’t mind you were American, in fact, that might be why he loved you. You poked fun at his britishness, even trying to copy his accent. It’s almost like a joke with you two.

“Baby, where are you?” Lando whines from his gaming chair, needing attention, having texted you a minute ago asking you for cuddles.

“I’m declaring my independence!” You yell back, your voice coming from outside. He pauses his game and trudges towards your voice. The two of you are spending time in your American residence, near Miami. He spots you near the pool, holding something out.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He spots your camera recording.

“Happy December 16th!” You grin, dropping a box of tea into the pool. Lando’s brows furrow, thinking back to the book he read about the Revolutionary War. Needing to have some sort of reference for your jokes, he bought a book with the basics to read on the flights to races.

“Oh… I get it. Babe, we aren’t even IN Boston,” Lando says after a minute, and after you start laughing, he does too. Lando quickly grabs your phone and pushes you in the water too.

“Rude,” you huff, grabbing the tea box and climbing out of the pool. If it weren’t for your grin, Lando would be running away. You grab your phone and Logan pops out from behind the bushes as Lando’s phone dings.

“Wait, I thought you were recording,” Lando says, his eyes narrowing at Logan.

“Nope,” you pop the p and walk inside, the video quickly going viral and spreading around the drivers group chats. Logan makes his quick escape, leaving Lando to wonder why he agreed to associate with Americans.

———

“GO GO GO GO! YES! TOUCHDOWN!” You yell, seemingly oblivious to the cold. Lando surprised you with a trip to your alma mater’s biggest football game of the season. He asked Logan for help with the surprise, but the Floridian didn’t mention, well, how much of a cult the school was.

“Logan said it was going to be cold, but not this cold,” Lando grumbles, taking a cute pic of you cheering.

“Babe, he has terrible taste in schools, why would you take his advice? Also, this is the northeast, it’s obviously going to be way colder than Austin will be next week,” You snort before joining in on a chant. Lando was only slightly regretting choosing seats right beside the student section, however, he could get behind the drinking. Especially tailgating. When you drug him out of his nice warm bed to hang outside the stadium at 9am with your old college friends, he was skeptical. All it took was one freshly grilled meal and a beer to turn that around. He is planning on creating an American tailgate for the race next week in Austin.

“American universities are... something else,” Lando smiles at you. Seeing as you are only one year removed from college, you had plans for the weekend.

“Just wait until we go to the bars later. Oh! And the frat party tomorrow, it’s family weekend and my cousin is getting us in,” you smile back at him. It was indeed a long, drunk, weekend, but Lando couldn’t help but admit that he would be more than happy to come back for more games throughout the year.

———

Austin was something else the next weekend. You and Logan were quick to jump on board with Lando’s idea for a tailgate, and you all gathered at the Airbnb that you rented the night before the race, right after qualifying. The team’s socials loved the idea as well as the Formula One social media team, so you paid for nothing as the drivers and friends gathered at the Airbnb for your and Logan’s tailgate. You made sure there were multiple coolers full of alcohol, soda, and water while Logan manned the grill. You wore a NFL football jersey while Logan repped a Miami Dolphins jersey.

“Why are those two arguing,” Max asks Lando, observing you and Logan fight about whose team is better.

“Either college football or pro football,”

“American football, mate,” George says, standing on the other side of Max.

“All I’m saying is that you have TERRIBLE taste in teams!” You huff in Logan’s direction. He rolls his eyes, turning his focus to the grill as you grab a beer. Lando, who is sporting your alma mater’s football jersey, walks over to the two of you.

“She’s not wrong, Logan,” Lando chuckles as the blonde boy throws his arms up in the air in frustration. Honestly, the only thing that can top the bickering between the both of you is when you pull out the jell-o shots and people start grabbing food.

Half an hour later, you turn on the projector to the screen, a Disney logo behind you. You take position in front of the screen, remote in hand as a microphone. The crowd turns their attention to you. Lando’s lips twitch up in amusement.

“I just got three things to say. God bless our troops. God bless America. AND GENTLEMEN. START YOUR ENGINES!” You yell as you hit play on the remote.

“Okay, focus. Speed. I. Am. Speed.” The voice says over the screen. You and Logan decided to culture everyone, making the end of the tailgate partly a movie night. Eventually, everyone finds a seat in the lawn chairs scattered in front of the screen. Lando grabs your hand and kisses the back of it when you sit down.

“I love you, y/n,” he smiles softly as he nurses his beer.

“Love you more, Lan, but not as much as America,” you chuckle, teasing him. He playfully rolls his eyes, knowing you are jesting.

“Are you always so… American?” Daniel laughs as he sits in the open chair beside you.

“Shut up before she drunkenly sings the national anthem,” Lando hisses, cringing at the time he mistakenly took you to a karaoke pub in London on July 4th. Honestly, he should’ve known better.

“I hate you all,”

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #lando norris imagine #america #logan sargeant #silly goose

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