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joeybsblackgf · 2 months ago

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perfect - joe burrow

pairing: joe burrow x black!fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 2.7k

content warnings: breeding kink, whisper of a daddy kink, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), they’re really in love

synopsis: joey just loves how perfect you are.

playlist: juno - sabrina carpenter

authors note: a hot, new joe burrow writer has entered the villa. hope u love it !! and if u like kpop u can check out my other works on @gojosnympho 🫶🏾

you didn’t go to a lot of joe’s away games. mainly because even though you were the girlfriend to a very rich and successful man, you were still a regular girl with a regular job and a regular life outside of him. you both preferred it that way, honestly. joe took comfort in the normalcy of you. being around you felt easy because you weren’t looking at him as joe burrow the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals. you were looking at him as joey, your boyfriend.

he came home monday night to the smell of you cooking dinner. he hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until the scent invaded his nostrils. he dropped his bags by the front door, promising himself that he’d get them later. the closer he got to the kitchen he could hear your sweet voice, very obviously singing along to whatever song was playing in your ears.

“how you let him cheat and take him back? must be your only nigga.” you rapped along with latto while you took the pan from the oven.

joe only watched you, taking in your comfy appearance. a tiny tank top, the shortest sleep shorts you could find, your bengals slippers, and of course a scarf on your head to protect your braids. his eyes were glued to your ass and the way the cheeks peeked out beneath the short fabric. you turned to see your boyfriend standing in the door of the kitchen, your heart leapt into your throat at the shock that ran through your body. you snatched your airpod out of your ear.

“god joey, you scared the fuck out of me!” you exclaimed. his heart fluttered at the name you called him, further proving his point of how you saw him.

“sorry, you just looked like you were locked in. i didn’t wanna disturb you.”

now that you were turned around, he saw just how tiny that tank top was. he could make out your brown nipples beneath the thin fabric and that fucking belly button ring with the diamond encrusted “j” dangling from it. his eyes trailed up to your face. that perfect, beautiful face that he had as his lock screen on his phone.

“it’s okay, baby boy! i cooked. are you hungry?” you asked him, not even aware of what you were doing to him. he didn’t know what it was about you but he felt like a teenager all over again because of the way he couldn’t control his body. he ignored his urges though, opting to give you a curt nod.

“starving,” joe replied.

“sit down then so i can make your plate.”

again, he nodded going to take a seat at the marble topped island in the middle of the kitchen. he watched you some more, his heart swelling once more with all the love he had for you. he didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as he loved you. you sat his plate down in front of him and before you could walk away, joe pulled you into a kiss.

“what was that for?” you asked him when he pulled back.

“i love you,” joe said, his cheeks flushing that rosy pink color that made your heart melt.

“i love you too, joey.”

you walked away from him once more, this time to make your own plate. you were going to sit next to him but joe stopped you, “sit on my lap.”

he didn’t even give you a chance to answer before he was dragging your body onto his lap.

“isn’t this uncomfortable for you?” you asked joe who promptly shook his head no.

“is it uncomfortable for you?”

“no.”

“then relax and eat. i missed you, mama. i just wanna be around you,” he explained.

you talked some more while you ate dinner. you told joe all about what you got up to while he was away. he listened intently like he always did whenever you spoke to him.

“i miss you so much when i’m away. you gotta come with me to the next away game,” joe said with a hopeful tinge to his voice.

“okay!” you agreed, enthusiastically.

“you're so perfect,” he praised you. he placed a kiss atop your scarf-covered head.

once you both were settled for the night and about to get in bed, joe caught another glimpse of your nipples beneath your shirt. it reminded him of just how long he’d gone without being inside of you, three days. you crawled into bed next to the quarterback, none the wiser about the dirty thoughts swirling in his head. he pulled your body close to his so that you were pressed flush against his bare chest. the warmth of his body made you relax almost instantly. you missed him just as much when he was gone; even if it was just for a few days.

the cuddling started out innocently enough. you were both enjoying each other’s presence and warmth. joe absentmindedly began to stroke your arm with his deft fingers. you didn’t pay it any mind at first. you were just enjoying your boyfriend’s featherlight touches. he stopped those and used that hand to pull you in almost impossibly close. you gasped when you felt his erection poking you in the back.

“do you see what you do to me?”

“joey,” you breathed out.

“you’re so beautiful and so fucking perfect.”

he began to mouth kisses on your shoulder, his hand snaking around your neck to pull your head towards him so he could kiss you properly.

“been wanting to fuck you since i got home,” he admitted, his lips still against yours. he flipped you over on your back, his big frame on top of your much smaller one. “i’m so lucky to call you mine.”

joe put his lips against yours again, pushing his tongue past your lips to kiss you. it felt like he was replacing all the air in your lungs with his own. his hands began to trail over every part of your body making you ache with need. you could still feel how hard he was from where you laid beneath him.

“can i make you feel good, baby?” joe asked you, his lips ghosting against yours in a way that had every inch of your being begging for more.

“please,” you nodded.

he started to suck on the skin on your neck because he knew how much it made you squirm. once he was satisfied that he’d marked you up he began to kiss down your body. he pulled your tank top up and over your head and sucked in a breath at your exposed breasts. joe wasted no time sucking one of the stiff peaks into his mouth. you softly moaned at the sensation. no matter how many times you found yourself in this situation, joe playing with your body, you could never get enough. his other hand tweaked your unoccupied nipple drawing even more moans from your throat. your hands were planted firmly on his shoulders while you laid there in pure bliss. he let go of one nipple with an obscene pop and quickly found purchase on the other nipple. the cold air hitting your spit-slick nipple made goosebumps arise on your skin.

“let me see how wet you are,” joe grumbled. he kissed down your body to the waistband of your poor excuse for shorts. he tugged on them so you lifted up so he could pull them down your legs. “shit, no panties?” he asked when he realized the only thing that was shielding him from your pussy was the flimsy fabric.

“i knew you were coming home, joey,” you told the blue eyed man who was between your legs.

“yeah? you were ready for me?” he asked, using his finger tips to give the insides of your thighs those featherlight touches that made you ache.

“i’m always ready for you.”

joe felt his dick twitch in his boxers. he focused his attention back on your wet pussy. it was glistening with arousal. your clit swollen and begging to be touched. your little hole winking in anticipation. you whined at joe, wanting him to do something—anything. he kissed all around where you needed him the most; he was teasing you in the worst way possible. you whined again. this time pushing your hips up toward him hoping he’d finally eat you out. instead, he pinned your hips down to the mattress.

“relax,” joe said.

he moved his hands back between your legs. this time though, he used his calloused fingertips to spread your lips, “i know i say it all the time. but fuck baby, your pussy is so fucking pretty.”

your cheeks warmed at the dirty compliment. although you didn’t really get a chance to fully bask in it because he was pushing one of his long fingers inside of your pussy. your walls fluttered happily around it, sucking it in with urgency. he added another finger, scissoring you open for his dick. he brought his lips to your clit to give it a soft kiss and you felt electricity shoot through your body. he took the swollen bud between his lips, sucking on it. your hands went to push his head deeper into your needy pussy.

“that feels good, joey,” you hummed.

you grind your pussy all over his tongue, using his mouth to bring yourself to an orgasm. joe laid there pliantly, letting you use him because he loved the way you looked right now. he hooked his fingers inside of you, his mouth still busy pleasuring your clit. you whined out, your chest rising and falling in a quick pattern that made joe aware of how close you were to cumming.

“oh my fucking god!” you cried out. you dug your nails into your boyfriends shoulders as your orgasm came crashing down. you squeezed around his fingers as you creamed all over them.

you relaxed into the plush sheets of the bed, completely in awe of how quickly you had just come undone. you didn’t know why you were still in shock after all this time. joe knew your body. he knew what made you tick. what made you cum all over him with just a few measly pumps of his fingers and flicks of his tongue.

“taste yourself,” he said, bringing his cream-covered fingers to your lips. you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean, moaning at the heady taste of your cum.

“want your dick in me. please,” you begged him. you felt heat pooling in your stomach once more. you were ready to give him however many orgasms that he could coax out of you.

you tugged his briefs down until his dick flopped out. you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of it. the tip was swollen and red with precum just pooling, waiting to be sucked off. you took one delicate finger and swiped the clear liquid off and promptly placed that same finger in your mouth. joe watched you with hooded eyes, his dick twitching with excitement. you wrapped your much smaller hand around him and began pumping him. you never broke eye contact with him while you jerked him off. you watched as he fell apart from your touch, his eyes glossed over in pure bliss

“that feel good, joey?” you asked him.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he said for what felt like that millionth time tonight. but each time he said it you felt butterflies float around in your tummy.

“can you fuck me? i’ve been such a good girl,” you said. your voice was so soft and so pretty and so fucking submissive.

joe leaned down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss. he pushed your hand away from his dick, opting for his own to line up at your entrance. inch by inch he pushed into you causing you to gasp against his lips. you were sure you could feel him in your stomach and that feeling alone had tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. joe pulled away from your lips but not before giving you a gentle peck. he started off slow; he rolled his hips coaxing tiny gasps from you when you felt the tip of his dick rub against your sweet spot.

“you’re so tight, mama,” joe said.

“all for you, daddy,” you replied airily, already reeling from how good your boyfriend felt inside of you.

joe let a throaty moan spill past his lips at the nickname before speaking, “i’m gonna make you a mama tonight for real if you don’t chill out.”

“please,” you begged, squeezing around him. “we would make such a pretty baby, joey.”

he closed his eyes to compose himself because he was sure he was gonna break you if he didn’t. he rolled his hips again, knocking any other bratty comments out of your throat. he opened his eyes to see you below him. you looked fucked out: pupils blown wide, lips swollen, and a thin sheen of sweat. joe grabbed hold of your hips to anchor your body to the bed as he began to give you those strokes that had you crying out to him. joe looked down to where your bodies were so beautifully connected to marvel at the creamy ring that began to form.

“fuck…” he trailed, his eyes still transfixed on the obscene sight. “you missed me this much?” he teased you.

you could only give a small nod; you were so lost in the pleasure. but so was joe. his eyes were screwed tight at just how good you felt wrapped around him, so wet, tight, and warm. he fluttered his eyes back open though to look down at you.

“i love you so fucking much,” you told him, voice strained with lust. and fuck, he could’ve knocked you up right there. your big, brown, glossed-over eyes met his and the words that came out of your pretty, kiss-bitten lips next made him stop moving inside of you out of fear that he’d cum too early: “w-wanna have your baby.”

you whined at him. you started moving your own hips to get some type of friction but he stopped your movements.

“you’re gonna make me cum early if you don’t chill out,” joe explained to you. but his words meant nothing to you in that moment and you told him as much.

“but that’s what i want you to do, daddy,” you said. “want you to cum in me, please?” you pleaded with the man above you.

“shit,” he mumbled under his breath. he started moving again, this time he was pounding you. your eyes rolled into the back of your head because you could feel his tip bumping against that spot that was gonna make you cream all over his dick.

you couldn’t speak or even think for that matter. the only thing that mattered in that moment was joe. you wrapped your thighs around his waist, pulling him impossibly close just how he had done earlier. you gasped into his ear at how deep you could feel him inside of you. joe buried his face in your neck and nipped at your skin to add another hickey to the already blemished flesh. having sex with him was always like this, full of passion and unadulterated love.

“i love you so fucking much, too,” joe murmured into your neck, replying to your statement from earlier.

your orgasm began to sneak up on you. your tummy began to tingle and you could feel the way your walls started to flutter around joe’s dick. he groaned at the sensation, his hips stuttering when he felt it.

“you gonna cum, baby?” he asked you. you didn’t have to answer because the way you felt wrapped around him gave him all the confirmation he needed. “cum for me and i promise i’ll give you a baby.”

that’s all it took for you to let that band in your belly snap and your orgasm wash over you, “fuck, joey! fuck!” were the only words you could say as your walls spasmed around him. almost simultaneously, joe let his own orgasm take over. rope after rope of his seed filled you to the brim, making good on his promise to at least try to get you pregnant.

“you’re so fucking perfect.”

#ten writes 🐅#joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x you #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fluff #joey burrow #joe burrow #joey b

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teamred · 2 months ago

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sunday morning

✩‌ logan howlett x reader x wade wilson | fluff | suggestive | 1.1k

SUMMARY | autumn weather begins to roll in one sunday morning. you greet your boyfriends in the living room, finding wade matching you in one of logan's signature plaid shirts. // part of the home sweet home series

WARNINGS | making out, touching, s*xual jokes, morning s*x on the couch implied

RATING | teen+

Warm streams of sunlight pour through the slitted window shades and onto the bed, draping over your eyes and waking you from your beautiful slumber.

With a content smile, you savor the fact that it’s Sunday and that sunlight, rather than an obnoxious alarm, is your wake-up call. You prefer it this way over any day.

Despite the sun’s warmth, you find it chilly, more so than usual, especially in contrast to your t-shirt and shorts-clad body. Fall approaches and it’s one of your favourite times of the year. The beginning of cozy drinks, crisp air, and the city blanketed in vibrant orange leaves.

But for now, you’re not quite ready to embrace autumn, tugging the blanket up and covering your shivering self up to your neck to ward off the chill.

Reaching behind you in the king-sized bed, you hope to find one of your boyfriends for a little extra comfort and warmth, but your hand only meets empty space. Your ears catch the familiar hum of your more talkative partner, along with the TV and satisfying sounds of morning coffee being made.

Blinking the sleep away, you spend a few more moments nestling in your blanket. When you finally decide to get up, you instinctively step towards Logan’s side of the closet and grab one of his brown plaid shirts to cover-up. Given his taller stature, the ends of his shirt easily cover your thighs.

The bedroom door creaks open and Dogpool immediately welcomes you with a happy wag of her tail. Squatting down to her level, you pet her on the head and give her some loving scritches.

Glancing up, you spot Logan sprawled on the sectional sofa, watching TV with his legs draped over the extended part. He’s wearing a simple white tee and plaid pajama pants and adorning a bit of messy hair.

Across the room, in the kitchen, Wade’s whistling as he makes drinks, decked out in one of his many Spider-man shirts, pink and white striped pajama bottoms, and another plaid shirt from Logan’s extensive collection.

Your smile widens at the sight of him in Logan’s clothes, fawning how handsome he is, almost rocking it as much as Logan does.

Standing up, you catch Logan eyeing you up and down, gaze lingering on how the oversized shirt fits you. There’s a glint in his eye, reminiscent of how he looked at you last night.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says with a small smile, his voice still carrying the raspy edge of waking up early.

“Good morning, sweet cheeks!” Wade sing-songs. “How are the holes this fine—”

His face lights up as he sees what you’re wearing.

“Oh, my God! We’re totally matchy-matchy, babe,” Wade says, raising his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise.

You stroll into the kitchen and touch his chest from behind. “We are, indeed, babe.”

Initially, you plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, but he turns his head after, diving into a deep kiss. Post-kiss, he gently rubs his nose against yours, holding you by your waist. You giggle at the affectionate gesture.

“Who pulls it off better, Logie Bear?” Wade asks, still tenderly holding you with locked eyes.

“You know the answer to that,” Logan deadpans from the living room.

“It’s me,” Wade mouths, pointing to himself dramatically. Although you shake your head in disagreement, you beam in response.

Reluctantly, you pull away from Wade’s body, but still keep contact in the form of hand-holding. You grab the cup of tea he made for you.

“It’s cool this morning, huh?” you comment, blowing your tea before taking a sip.

“Yeah, fall’s officially here to eat our ass out,” he mirrors you, drinking some of his coffee. “Not that I’m complaining—you know I love me some PSLs.”

You glance at the color of his coffee.

“Wade, I’m not sure pumpkin spice lattes can even compete with how sweet and creamy you take your coffee.”

“What are you talking about? I add just a teeny, tiny pinch of cream and sugar,” he protests.

“You drink coffee the worst way, bub,” Logan pipes up, surprisingly listening in on the pointless conversation.

“Okay, Mr. I-Drink-Coffee-As-Dark-As-My-Empty-Soul,” Wade retorts with a roll of his eyes. He jerks a thumb toward the living room. “Get a load of this guy, am I right? Actually, on second thought, you did get a load of him last night. And me, of course.”

He winks at you and all you can do is shake your head, indulging in Wade’s humor. You gather your tea and another cup, then walk towards the couch. Setting a cup of black coffee on a coaster in front of Logan and placing your tea beside it, you settle next to him. He drags his attention away from the TV and reaches out for you, touching the back of your bare thigh.

“Thanks, baby,” he says, rubbing his thumb tenderly over your skin. You squeeze his hand in response, a silent “Of course” conveyed.

“Did Wade wake you up?” you ask.

Logan shakes his head. “No, I was up before sunrise. Had a hard time fallin’ back asleep.”

“Was it really bad last night?” you ask in concern, reaching out to stroke his face.

“No, it was fine,” he assures. “Sleep’s been better since we started this.”

This obviously implying the unconventional relationship you three share, but it works, even if Logan’s not keen to admit how he has a soft spot for Wade. Logan leans into you for a kiss, his grin spreading as he does so. It’s hard not to mirror his smile.

The kissing is innocent, but only for so long.

“You look so fuckin’ good in just my shirt, y’know that?” he murmurs, tugging you flush to his body. His calloused hands trail up your legs and underneath his shirt that you’re wearing. A low moan follows.

“Hey, invite me if you’re gonna be fucking on my couch without me!” Wade exclaims, suddenly flopping across Logan’s lap and your body. You groan, trying to support the weight of your two muscle-bound boyfriends.

“It’s Al’s couch!” you and Logan chorus, barely managing to keep your balance.

“And don’t you forget it!” Althea suddenly says, her voice muffled behind her bedroom door.

Logan shifts to press closer against Wade while still holding onto you. Your other boyfriend dips his head, kissing you fervently. His coffee breath is unmistakable, but you couldn't care less, especially when you feel Wade pressing his rising hardness against you.

“Also, besides my usual warning about keeping it down, if you’re gonna fuck on the couch again, please wipe it down after,” Blind Al calls out, still behind the door.

“Yes, Al,” all three of you respond in unison in your tangled harmony.

Before long, plaid shirts are tossed aside, along with the rest of everyone’s bed wear. You keep your moans and whines to a minimum for Al’s sake (or at least you try to).

You welcome the oncoming weather of fall with your bodies pressed up against each other, exchanging warmth in the chill morning.

And of course, besides sleeping in, you remember why Sunday mornings are your absolute favourite.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fluff #logan howlett fluff #wade wilson x you #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #deadpool x you #deadpool fluff

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bettysupremacy · 10 months ago

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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

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03jyh23 · 4 months ago

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🔞⌇ateez reaction to walking on you sexy dancing

!minors do not interact!

trigger warnings: highly suggestive, sexual themes, the word ''daddy'' used when singing along to a song, jealousy, lap dance, implied masturbation, lingerie

— hi there! it's my first time posting reactions! i always wanted to try and decided to finally go for it! let me know if you like this type of post from me? can't believe i am exposing the songs im shaking my ass to like this lol but enjoy! (yeah, i was totally cleaning to all of them today and my mind couldn't help but... daydream)

love, monika ♡

⌞hongjoong⌝ get busy by sean paul

You were cleaning up for a longer while, meticulously tidying each corner and surface of your home. Your phone was connected to Hongjoong’s expensive, high-quality music set, filling the room with crystal-clear sound. Cleaning wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but since Hongjoong was busy in the studio working on his latest project, it was better to tackle the chores during his absence than when he was at home and potentially in the way. You prefer to be alone when cleaning, with nobody to disturb you or interrupt your rhythm. The solitude allowed you to focus entirely on the task, making it somewhat more bearable. Your cleaning playlist was set on shuffle to keep you motivated throughout the extended cleaning session. You were wiping off the table when Get Busy by Sean Paul started playing, and you knew damn well the next thing you were going to do was shake your ass to one of the best songs ever recorded, at least in your opinion. The infectious beat and energetic rhythm were too irresistible to ignore. You could feel the music pulsing through your veins, compelling you to drop the cloth and start moving to the rhythm. You were swaying your hips left and right, your hands clapping to the rhythm. The music seemed to take control of your body, your movements becoming more fluid and enthusiastic with every beat. Lost in the music, you didn't notice the entrance door quietly opening. You put your hands into your hair, untangling them from the bun and shaking your head in the matching rhythm to your hips. You finally dropped in a swift motion to the floor, doing the sexiest drop you could, your hands between your legs and then up on your knees when you were back standing in a swift motion. You were attempting to twerk, and oh lord, you couldn't do that even if your life depended on it, but you were enjoying yourself so much you didn't even care about looking funny. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm move you. Hongjoong stood there, leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face, watching your dance performance. He had finished his work earlier than expected and decided to surprise you, but it seemed you were the one providing the surprise. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, finding your carefree dancing endearing. You once again dropped to the floor, your hands moving up your chest and to your neck as you followed the rhythm. The song's final notes reverberated through the room, leaving you feeling exhilarated and out of breath. As the music faded, you took a moment to catch your breath, when you finally noticed your boyfriend looking at you. Oh.

Your eyes widened in surprise, heat rushing to your cheeks as you realized Hongjoong had been watching you the entire time. "How long have you been standing there?" you asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide your embarrassment.

He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you with a grin, "Long enough to decide that the next thing I’m gonna produce will be a dancehall song."

You laughed nervously, still trying to process the fact that Hongjoong had been watching you. "I didn't know you were back," you said, attempting to divert the attention from your dance performance.

He chuckled, "I finished early and thought I'd surprise you, but clearly, you were having your own little party here."

Blushing, you replied, "Well, cleaning is more fun with some good music."

Hongjoong nodded in agreement, "I can't argue with that. But next time, maybe save some of those moves for me?" He winked playfully, making you laugh.

"Maybe I will," you teased back, feeling more at ease now that the initial embarrassment was fading.

He walked over to you and pulled you by your hip into a kiss, deepening it with a passion that made your heart flutter. When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with warmth and affection. "Mind dancing for me again?" he suggested, taking your hand.

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement. "Only if you join me," you replied, squeezing his hand gently.

Hongjoong laughed, "Deal. But don't blame me if I steal the spotlight." With a playful grin, he led you back to the center of the room, ready to dance together.

⌞seonghwa⌝ super bass by nicki minaj

Seonghwa was busy with his newest Lego set, and you left him be, knowing well he needed his time alone to relax doing his hobby. You watched him for a moment, admiring the way his fingers deftly assembled each piece with precision and care. The concentration on his face was evident, and it made you smile to see him so immersed in something he loved. To avoid disturbing him, you went to your shared bedroom, closed the door behind you, and decided to put on some music. You connected your phone to the speakers, and scrolled through your favorite playlists, looking for something that matched your mood. You chose a female top tracks playlist you often play in the car when driving with Seonghwa. Out of boredom, you decided it was high time to fold your clean laundry and put it back on the shelves and racks. The pile of freshly washed clothes had been sitting in the basket for a few days now, and you figured it was the perfect opportunity to finally tackle the task. As you sorted through the clothes, separating them into different categories, Super Bass started to play, and you smiled hearing the familiar beats. The rhythm of the song lifted your spirits, and you found yourself swaying to the music as you folded. It made the chore feel less like a task and more like a dance. You couldn't help yourself but rap to the song, putting on a small performance. You twirled around, pretending the laundry basket was an audience, and let the music take over. Each note you sang seemed to make the task more enjoyable, and you found yourself getting lost in the melody.

Your favorite part, the bridge, came closer, and you could feel the excitement building inside you. In one swift motion, you grabbed the chair and positioned it in the middle of the room. With a burst of energy, you put one of your legs on it, striking a dramatic pose. You sang at the top of your lungs, completely forgetting about not disturbing your dear boyfriend, "See, I need you in my life for me to stay." You closed your eyes and moved your body sensually to the beat, letting the rhythm take control. Each sway of your hips and roll of your shoulders felt instinctive, the music guiding your movements ''Don't you hear that heartbeat comin' your way?'' you sing, your voice blending seamlessly with Nicki's. You sat down on a chair, swaying your hips to the rhythm, feeling every beat pulse through your body. The music filled the room, creating an atmosphere of sultry energy and anticipation. As you continued to sing and move, you noticed Seonghwa entering the room, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight before him. You couldn't help but smile, your hips moving with even more confidence and allure. Seonghwa's presence only added to the excitement, and you felt a rush of adrenaline knowing he was watching you.

"Like what you see?" you asked playfully.

Seonghwa's lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "I always do," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement and admiration. His eyes sparkled with affection as he watched you, clearly enjoying your performance.

Feeling emboldened by his reaction, you continued your playful dance, letting the music guide your movements. With each beat, you moved with more confidence, fully aware of Seonghwa's gaze on you.

As the song reached its climax, you struck one final pose, breathing heavily. Seonghwa clapped softly, pushing off from the doorframe and walking towards you. "That was quite the show," he said, his tone filled with genuine admiration.

You laughed, still catching your breath. "Well, I aim to entertain," you replied with a wink.

Seonghwa reached out, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You always do," he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness. "I think I might need a private encore later," he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"Maybe," you teased, "if you're lucky."

With that, the two of you shared a knowing smile, the chores momentarily forgotten as you basked in each other's company.

⌞yunho⌝ smack that by akon, eminem

It was Saturday night and your boyfriend was once again spending his whole weekend preparing for his Artist of the Month performance. You were genuinely happy that Studio Choom finally contacted him, as you knew nobody deserved it as much as Yunho, but you wished he could keep his weekends off for both of you to enjoy. You were ready to go out with your friend, dressed to impress, your hair and makeup looking expensive the way you liked the most. You were finishing your glass of wine, savoring the last few sips as you mentally prepared yourself for the evening ahead. The music was playing in the background, setting the perfect mood. You were supposed to turn off the music and order yourself a taxi to get to the bar, but then the song changed to Smack That by Akon and you couldn't force yourself to skip it. The infectious beat immediately caught your attention, and you felt a surge of energy. You found yourself moving to the rhythm, swaying your hips, and rapping along to the catchy lyrics. Your hips were moving suggestively to the song, a glass of wine in one of your hands, the other on your waist helping you to keep the right rhythm. As the chorus started, you smiled to yourself, feeling a playful energy surge through you. You put your wine glass down. With a mischievous grin, you grabbed your ass and did exactly what was in the song title, moving in perfect sync with the beat. And in that moment you heard a thud. You looked in the direction the sound was coming from and saw your boyfriend walking towards you with determined strides, his bag on the floor behind him. His intense gaze was fixed on you, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You couldn't even react when he grabbed your chin, firmly lifting your face to meet his eyes. His other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him with a possessive grip. The proximity made your heart race, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

"Looks like someone's having fun without me," Yunho murmured, his voice low and husky.

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as you stared into his eyes. "I didn't hear you come in," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

Yunho pulled you in for a deep, passionate kiss, his lips capturing yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. Without breaking the kiss, he firmly turned you around, his strong hands guiding your body with ease. One hand slid down to your thigh, gripping it possessively, while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and demanding, as he pressed you hard against his crotch. The sudden contact sent a shiver up your spine, your body responding instinctively to his touch. His grip tightened, making it clear he wasn't planning to let go anytime soon. You pushed your ass harder and pressed it against Yunho’s crotch, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him. He groaned softly, his breath hitching as he felt the pressure. "You ain’t going nowhere," he muttered, his voice thick with desire.

"I guess my plans just changed," you whispered, your voice weak as you felt your boyfriend's lips on your neck.

⌞yeosang⌝ work by rihanna

Yeosang went to the gym earlier this morning, telling you he wanted to get in a good workout before starting the day. He promised to be back by lunchtime to take you out for a nice meal and perhaps some shopping or a walk in the park. You waited for him patiently, ready to go whenever he would return. To pass the time, you turned on the big TV screen and played Rihanna’s top track playlist. As you mindlessly scrolled through social media, the catchy tune of Work started to fill the room, and you couldn’t help but move your body to the rhythm. You've always loved that song so you got up from the couch. The infectious beat took over your body, making you sway your hips and move sensually to the rhythm. You made your way to the table to put your phone down when the chorus hit. With one hand, you held the table to keep yourself steady as you dropped your ass to the floor, swaying it left and right as you were slowly getting back up. You could feel the burn in your thighs as you moved back up, but the infectious beat of the song made it all worthwhile. The sensual sway of your hips felt natural, almost instinctive as if your body was made to move this way. With each rise and fall, you felt more and more in tune with the music, your confidence growing with every beat. As you stood back up, your movements became even more fluid, your body fully embracing the rhythm. You turned around, and to your surprise, you faced Yeosang, a red blush covering his neck and ears. His eyes were wide with surprise, clearly taken aback by your dance.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of both embarrassment and excitement. "Enjoying the show?" you asked, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Yeosang's eyes widened even more, and he struggled to find his words. "I... uh... didn't mean to interrupt," he stammered, his voice tinged with both surprise and admiration.

"You better not have," you teased, giving him a playful wink as you continued to dance, feeling more confident with each passing moment.

Yeosang's face broke into a shy smile, the blush deepening as he took a cautious step closer. "I didn't know you had moves like that," he said, his voice tinged with both admiration and bashfulness.

You laughed, feeling a sense of pride mixed with playful embarrassment. "There's a lot you don't know about me," you teased, giving him a wink as you continued to sway to the rhythm. Yeosang swallowed hard, his eyes taking you in, clearly captivated by your sensual movements. His gaze traveled over your body, lingering on the way your hips swayed and the confidence radiating from you. You could see the admiration and desire in his eyes, making you feel even more empowered. You stepped closer to him as you danced, putting one of your arms on his shoulder, your gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips, then back up. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the anticipation building between you. Slowly, you started to go down, your hand tracing down Yeosang's body, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. As your hand traveled lower, his breath hitched. You moved with deliberate slowness, savoring every moment, every inch of his body under your touch. When you finally reached his waist, you paused for a moment, looking up at him through your lashes. The intensity in his gaze made your heart race, and you could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure. You continued your descent, your fingers brushing against his thighs, feeling the tension in his muscles. As you reached the floor, you gave him a teasing smile, your body swaying seductively to the rhythm of the music. The atmosphere was electric, and charged. You started to rise again, your hand retracing its path up his body, feeling his breath quicken with each passing second. You stood up slowly, your body still swaying to the rhythm of the music, and gave him a teasing smile, "Should we get going?"

Yeosang's eyes were full of desire, and he took a deep breath before responding. "I think we can spare a few more minutes," he replied, his voice husky. You laughed softly, feeling a rush of excitement at his words. You continued to sway your hips to the music, your body moving closer to his. Yeosang reached out, his hand gently caressing your waist as he pulled you even closer. "You’re making it really hard to focus on anything else," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

You smiled, feeling a sense of power and confidence. "Good," you whispered back, your voice filled with playful seduction. "Because I don't want you thinking about anything else right now." With that, you leaned in and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony to the rhythm of the music. As the kiss deepened, Yeosang's grip on your waist tightened, his hands exploring the curves of your body.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. "Maybe we should stay in after all," Yeosang suggested, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "I think that sounds like a perfect plan," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment and excitement for the moments yet to come.

⌞san⌝ buttons by pussycat dolls

Your boyfriend's birthday was coming up, and your friend had talked you into giving him a lap dance. Initially, you were a bit hesitant, feeling shy about the idea. Not everybody's boyfriend was an incredible dancer, and you didn't want to embarrass yourself. The thought of trying to match San's moves and charisma when he was performing made you a little nervous. You decided to give it your best shot, hoping that your sincerity and the love behind the gesture would shine through, even if your dance moves weren't perfect. It was a late evening before his birthday, and for the hundredth time, you played the music video to Buttons, trying to figure out how the hell Nicole did that move on that chair. You watched her every move, analyzing the choreography with a mix of admiration and frustration. The way she effortlessly blended strength and sensuality was mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated. Determined to get it right, you positioned a chair in front of the mirror, mimicking her moves as best as you could. You adjusted your posture, trying to channel Nicole's confidence and grace. The music filled the room, and you attempted the dance sequence once again, focusing on the smooth transitions and precise movements. Despite the challenges, you felt a sense of accomplishment with each small improvement.

When you finally got everything right, you decided to try and rehearse the choreography one last time with your outfit, or lack of it, and shoes on. You still had some time until San would get back home, so you went into your room and put your lingerie on, together with the high heels. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. After adjusting the straps and checking your reflection in the mirror one last time, you walked back to the living room where you had set up the chair. The anticipation built up inside you, and you could feel your heart racing. You started the music once more, letting the familiar beats fill the room. As you moved through the choreography, you felt a sense of empowerment. Each step, each sway of your hips, was a testament to your determination and love for San. You imagined his reaction, the look of surprise and admiration in his eyes, and it fueled your performance even more.

The door creaked open just as you were finishing the routine. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw San standing there, his eyes wide with surprise and a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Well, this is a surprise," he said, his voice filled with admiration.

You blushed but didn't stop, finishing the last few moves with a flourish. As the music faded, you stood there, slightly out of breath, but filled with a sense of accomplishment and anticipation. "You weren't supposed to see it yet," you stammered, your voice tinged with a mix of surprise and shyness.

San's eyes twinkled with amusement as he took a step closer, his smile widening, his dimples showing. "Well, I have to say, I'm glad I did," he replied, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You look amazing baby."

You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. "I wanted it to be a surprise for your birthday," you admitted, feeling the initial nervousness starting to fade away.

San reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "And it is," he said softly, his grip reassuring. "The best surprise I could ask for."

With his encouraging words, you felt a surge of confidence. "Well, in that case," you said with a playful grin, "why don't you take a seat and enjoy the full performance?"

San's eyes lit up with anticipation as he nodded eagerly, quickly finding a spot to sit down. You restarted the music, letting the rhythm take over as you began the dance once more, this time with him as your captive audience.

⌞mingi⌝ streets by doja cat

You were incredibly mad. Mingi was attending one of those prestigious award ceremonies, and being the supportive girlfriend that you are, of course, you decided to watch it live to cheer him on from afar. During one of the last performances by one of the most popular girl groups, they were doing an incredibly sexy choreography on chairs. Your boyfriend was, unfortunately, unlucky enough to be caught by the ever-watchful cameraman staring intently at one of the girl group members. To make matters worse, a wide grin spread across his face as he licked his lips, completely mesmerized by the performance. Oh, how you wished you could reach through the screen and wipe that stupid, infuriating grin off his face. You were already plotting your next move, determined to make your boyfriend pay for his wandering eyes. The revenge will be sweet. The opportunity presented itself a few days later when he was about to return home from the award ceremony. Mingi texted you he was on his way from the airport and you were so ready to make him squirm and beg for forgiveness. You dimmed the lights, and lit up candles across the living room, creating an intimate glow. You had meticulously prepared for this moment, wearing the lingerie he got you for your birthday on your body. The delicate lace hugged your curves perfectly, making you feel empowered and seductive. As you waited, you could feel your excitement and anticipation growing. You replayed the scene from the award ceremony in your mind, fueling your determination to make him understand the consequences of his actions. The sound of the front door unlocking pulled you from your thoughts.

Mingi stepped inside, his eyes immediately widening as he took in the setting. His gaze traveled over your body sitting on a chair in the middle of the living room, lingering appreciatively on the lingerie. You could see the momentary confusion in his eyes, quickly replaced by a look of desire.

"Wow, what's all this?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and excitement. You walked towards him slowly, your hips swaying seductively with each step. Without a word you took his hand and guided him to the chair, pushing him down gently. As he sat, you pressed play and Streets started playing. You straddled his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders. Mingi was quick to grab your waist but you pushed them off of you quickly, "No touching," you warned him as your hand grabbed his hair, pulling his head back slightly. His eyes widened in surprise, but a smirk quickly formed on his lips as he realized you were in control. You leaned in close, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "Tonight is all about you learning a lesson."

Mingi's smirk faltered slightly, replaced by a look of anticipation and desire. You could feel the tension between you growing thicker, the air charged with electricity. Slowly, you moved your hips, grinding against him in a tantalizing rhythm, your hands never leaving his hair.

His breath hitched, and you could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought the urge to touch you. "You like watching other girls, huh?" you teased, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Well, let's see if you can handle just watching tonight." You continued your slow, deliberate movements, your body arching and swaying to the rhythm of the music. Each motion was designed to drive him wild, to make him regret ever letting his eyes wander. The intensity of his gaze and the way he bit his lip told you that your plan was working.

⌞wooyoung⌝ drunk in love by beyoncé, jay-z

You were bored out of your mind, your boyfriend had been playing games since early afternoon, leaving you to yourself. You finally switched off Netflix, feeling unsatisfied with the endless scrolling. With a sigh, you opened the YouTube app, hoping to find a soundtrack to make your time in the kitchen more enjoyable. Lately, Wooyoung and you were into Beyoncé, so you played her music video playlist and went to the kitchen. Music filled the room, the lively beats instantly brightening your mood as you gathered your ingredients and started to cook dinner. After a short while, you heard the intro to Drunk in Love and you decided to play it louder. The sultry beats and Beyoncé's mesmerizing voice filled the kitchen, making you sway your hips as you chopped vegetables. You couldn't help but sing along, feeling the music take over your body.

You took one of the big dippers and started to sing to it, pretending it to be your microphone. You feel like a superstar on a grand stage as you move around the kitchen, twirling and dancing as if performing for a captivated audience. Every so often, you glanced towards your boyfriend's room, half-hoping Wooyoung would notice your performance and join in the fun. But for now, you were content to let the music and your imagination take you away.

You sit on the counter, the rhythm of the music coursed through you, compelling you to sway and groove in time with the beat. Your hand gripped the edge of the counter for balance as you leaned back slightly, letting your head tilt and your hair cascade down your back. You sang along to the lyrics, your voice blending with Beyoncé's. Your hips rolled sensuously, matching the sultry vibe of the song, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling utterly in the moment.

"Baby, would you mind turning the music down a bit?" you heard Wooyoung call from his room.

You smirked, feeling a wave of playful defiance wash over you. Ignoring Wooyoung's request, you raised your voice and sang the lyrics with even more enthusiasm, "I been sippin', that's the only thing, that's keepin' me on fire, we on fire!" Your voice echoed through the kitchen, you jumped off the counter, grabbing the big dipper again as your microphone, and strutted across the kitchen floor, feeling like a superstar on a grand stage. With each step, you let your hips sway more dramatically, fully embracing the rhythm. You spun around, your hair whipping through the air, and belted out the next line with just as much fervor.

Wooyoung poked his head out of his room, his initial frustration melting into a fond smile as he watched you.

You bit your lower lip and looked at him while singing, "I want your body right here, daddy, I want you, right now."

Wooyoung's eyes widened slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in your playful performance. He stepped out of his room, the game momentarily forgotten, and walked towards you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Oh? Is that so?" he replied, his voice low and teasing as he reached you.

"Can't keep your eyes off my fatty, daddy, I want you" you continued singing as Wooyoung took the microphone from your hand, setting it aside before pulling you close, his hands resting on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, swaying in time with the beat as you gazed into his eyes.

"Maybe I should take a break from my game," Wooyoung murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement. "I think that's a great idea," you replied, pulling him even closer.

"You know, you might just be better than Beyoncé," he joked, looking into your eyes.

"Oh, please," you laughed, feeling your cheeks flush. "But I'll take the compliment."

With a shared laugh, the two of you danced together in the kitchen, the earlier boredom forgotten as you lost yourselves in the music and each other.

⌞jongho⌝ partition by beyoncé

You got out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around you, as you went through your evening routine. Jongho was still at practice, the tour was coming, so you knew better than to wait for him. He probably wouldn't be back till dawn. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a message from him, but the screen remained dark. You knew how important these practice sessions were, especially with the tour coming up, but you couldn't help but miss him. You moved to your bedroom and decided to play some music before heading to bed. The apartment felt unusually quiet without Jongho's presence, and you needed something to fill that silence. You connected your phone to the speaker and scrolled through your playlist, finally settling on a Beyoncé mix. The first notes of Partition began to play, the sultry beat filling the room. You ruffled through your wardrobe, searching for one of Jongho's t-shirts to sleep in. His scent always brought you comfort, especially on nights when he wasn't around. As the music played, you found yourself swaying to the rhythm, the infectious beat making it impossible to stand still. You tossed aside a few of your own shirts, determined to find one of his that you loved the most. The groove of the song took over, and you started to move your hips more deliberately, feeling the music course through your body. Finally, you found one of his oversized t-shirts at the bottom of the drawer. You held it up to your face, inhaling deeply before slipping it on. The fabric was soft and comforting, and you continued to dance, feeling a little closer to him with each step. You loved how Beyoncé's music made you feel sexy and empowered. You lay down on the bed and started to do your own choreography for the song. The rhythm guided your movements, each beat making you feel more confident. Your hands traced along your body, feeling the music in every touch. You couldn't help but feel a little hot all over as you kept twining around the bed, the music guiding your every move. The rhythm pulsed through you as you turned to your stomach, your ass up, matching the sultry beats of the song. The soft fabric of the bed sheets brushed against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you. In no time, you were on your knees, grinding against the bed with a deliberate, sensual motion. Your hands gripped the sheets, your body moving fluidly to the music, lost in the moment. You played a bit with your t-shirt, lifting it playfully as you felt yourself getting worked up. The cool air against your skin mixed with the heat of the moment, intensifying your sensations. You let the fabric slide back down, but not before teasing yourself a bit more, feeling the gentle brush against your skin. With each sway of your hips and each subtle lift of the t-shirt, you could feel the tension building within you. The combination of the music, the feel of the soft cotton, and the thought of Jongho made your heart race.

You were so lost in the rhythm and sensations that you didn't hear the front door open. Jongho stepped inside, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you moving sensually on the bed, wearing his t-shirt. He stood there for a moment, captivated by the scene, before quietly walking towards the bedroom. As he reached the doorway, you finally noticed him, your movements slowing as your eyes met his. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and you could see the desire and admiration in his eyes. Jongho was stuck by the way your hips grind hard against the bed. Taking a few slow steps forward, he let his eyes roam over your body, appreciating every curve and movement. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, and you could feel the heat between your legs growing with each passing second.

"Need some help, baby?" he asked, his voice low and husky, filled with a mix of admiration.

The words escaped your lips before you could fully process them, "Yes, please," you breathed out, your voice laced with more neediness than you had intended.

Jongho's lips curled into a smirk as he sat down on the bed beside you, his hands gently guiding you to straddle him. The music continued to play as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Let me take care of you."

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stormgardenscurse · 8 months ago

Text

‘do you remember? back when…’

Summary: a childhood friends AU! Well, Lilia’s is more like ‘back in our youth’ rather than childhood, but you get the gist.

Characters: Lilia, Malleus, Riddle, Jamil, Vil

Content warning: the Reader is gender neutral, but it’s mentioned they’ve worn dresses in Malleus’ part.

If you liked this, consider checking out my TWST Isekai Fanbook, now digitally available on my kofi!

Lilia Vanrouge

Back when you were both training to be knights, you mistook Lilia for a girl at first.

In your defense, it’s simply because of how pretty he is, yet so cutthroat and lithe on his feet that you swear this is what they mean by ‘angels of death’ descending on a battlefield.

Lilia calls you weird for comparing him to that when he much prefers to think of himself as some type of demon, or harbinger of doom.

“Do I still not look intimidating enough for you?” He’d asked, sharp teeth flashing with the question as the both of you leaned against the railings on the castle rooftop. Lilia angles his head back to gaze at you, and you think to yourself how it exposes the pale skin of his neck, which he’d never show to any opponent in a fight.

Two of your fingers reach to tap on that expanse of skin, causing Lilia to freeze from the contact. He tilts his head, comfortable enough that he hasn’t decided to shove you away yet.

“It’s just… you seem more mortal to me.” You shrug. “As mortal as a fae can be, anyways. I can reach out and touch you, and I would walk away unharmed.”

“That’s because I allow you to.” Lilia rolls his eyes. He finally steps away, picking up his weapon — heavy and gleaming emerald. From beneath his lashes, he gives you a challenging smile as he flips and catches it in his hand. “Care to spar before we turn in for the night?”

“Maybe you’re a vampire after all.” You pretend to be tired of his late requests, but follow Lilia down to the training grounds regardless. “The kind that human kingdoms are romanticizing in their newest novels. Sparkly under the sunlight.”

“If you’d like to sleep already, I’d be more than happy to croon you a lullaby.”

“You’ll only do so after I’m defeated on the ground, I’m sure.” With a pause, you give Lilia a proposal. “If I win, I’ll sing to you instead. But I’m not carrying you back to your dorm.”

“Oh? It’s a deal, then.”

Ever since, you can’t be sure if Lilia likes to throw your sparring matches just for the chance to hear you sing. You don’t often do so (you’re knights, after all), so he regards it as a secret side of you that only he gets to witness. You only come to this contemplation after feelings spark between you — face flushed as you wonder what to do next when you’ve fallen for someone so impossible.

He’s already been keeping you up at night with his nocturnal tendencies and hangouts… and now this?!

Malleus Draconia

It helps that as children, you never truly processed who Malleus was until a little later in your friendship. You were told he’s the son of the royal advisor, and so you prattled to him with questions of what the crown prince is like. He’d answer vaguely, sometimes saying that His Royal Highness has bad habits, and you’d nod along, hanging onto his every word.

Malleus soon realizes that you don’t care as much for ‘the prince’ as much as you did for him as your mysterious friend. You were both lonely noble-children, and you enjoyed sharing treats, flowers, and any new thing you could with Malleus. Once, he even tried on the trendiest dresses with you out of curiosity, and you lamented the fact that he could’ve made a beautiful girl.

No one would dare say that to him in any lifetime, other than you. Though to be fair, you didn’t know he was the prince yet.

“Flowers look wonderful in your hair! Since it’s dark, they stand out.” You continue weaving yellow and blue blooms into Malleus’ locks. “...Hey, what do you think life would be like if we were regular children?”

“Not nobles, you mean?” He hums, helping you decorate your hair once you’re done with his. He casts an easy spell to dye your hair with highlights to match the dress. “I suppose we’d be towns-children frolicking without a care in the world.”

“We’d still be friends, right…?”

Malleus pauses at the anxious edge in your voice. Perhaps you were just as reliant on this comforting friendship as he was. He tells himself to hide his status for a little while longer. “Of course. Our parents would still be acquainted, and we’d still have playdates — only running through the roads rather than castle halls.”

It’s hard to find a real friend amongst noble children. Some cling to their families, others are picky or judgmental, and…

A lot are only friends for as long as the other is useful.

“We should have an outing in the city one day.” You smile, trying to fight away the heavy air. “I’m sure you’d like the marketplace. I’ve only seen it from inside a carriage, but it looks fun.”

Soon, the outing is arranged. However…

“Before we go, there’s something I need to tell you.” Malleus takes your hands in his, squeezing them as if to ground himself in the moment. Time passes quickly for the fae, but his heart is beating out of his chest at what your reaction might be.

…He ends up delaying this reveal until the end of your excursion. But the last thing he expects is for your eyes to well up with tears and for you to latch onto him in a hug.

“I’m… I’m so sorry—! If only I was more reliable, you wouldn’t have to keep this a secret, and…”

As you let out a hiccup and continue apologizing, Malleus’ confusion melts into a soft smile, hugging you back.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s mother didn’t know about your existence for a while, as you’d always sneak over to his window after she left the house. You claimed you knew how accomplished his family is, so you told Riddle you’d prepare for a better impression in the future! “That way, we can hang out normally or study together!”

Truth be told, the only studying you’re interested in is with practical magic — as another child with an affinity with magic, you’ve been going to the library often to read up on theories, experimenting with what spells you can do.

As worried as Riddle is for your safety (you’ve been doing all this without supervision), he’s also very curious about watching magic unfold from your own hands. You showed him a color changing spell once, surprising him by appearing with a different appearance — it was cute how he panicked, thinking you went ahead and dyed your entire head pink.

“And nothing hurts? No side effects?” He asked.

“Nope! And one day, we can both attend a magic school and do spells like these all the time!”

One day… Despite how he’s temporarily stuck at home still, adhering to his mother’s strict rules, he clings onto the hope that it’ll fruition in him becoming a great mage. Then, when that happens, he can be the one to wow you with magic you haven’t seen before. Just as you have all these months, visiting with the intention of cheering him up or encouraging him.

On rare days, you manage to sneak Riddle out of the window for a quick visit to the park or library. There, with his heart thumping out of his chest, he’d marvel at the world you’re so familiar with already, and so willing to place into his unsteady palms.

“Can you read that?” You ask, pointing at a passage in a history book. While technically rebelling, you still chose a book on the same topic Riddle was meant to study at home.

“Yes, it’s…” As Riddle translates the scripture, he realizes you’re listening very intently. And all of a sudden, the closeness of your seats in the corner of the library makes him flush, realizing how you’ve always spoken to him kindly. Different from the playful tones you used at the start of your friendship, or currently do with the acquaintances he’s seen you greet along the way.

It’s been a while since he’s felt special, especially as the sentiment expired after years of his mother claiming he had a gift; that because he had the potential to be perfect, it'd come at a price of overwhelming pressure.

So why does your kind of ‘special’ feel like a balm?

Jamil Viper

Between his busy schedule working for the Al-Asims, it’s all Jamil can do to relax in the solitude of his own room… that is, until you’re temporarily displaced from your own, and have been allocated to bunk with Jamil since he’s ‘very capable’ and close to your age. Another bed is moved in. There’s still space, but Jamil dislikes having his privacy encroached upon.

The two of you never interacted before this, but he’s seen you around the mansion before doing chores and learning from the head servants. You aren’t too chatty, Jamil thinks, until you finally break it to him after the night of a banquet (the both of you too tired to keep up appearances, slumped on your respective beds), that he frowns a lot. And that’s why you haven’t spoken to him much until now.

Jamil blinks once, then twice. “I do?” He’s always been good at controlling his facial expressions—

“Yeah, when you think people aren’t looking.” You raise a finger in the air. “Especially when the meals aren’t to your liking, you tend to look around with judgmental eyes.”

“So you watch me when we’re at work.”

“Only because you never looked like you wanted to talk.” It’s not accusatory, merely an observation from you. With a sigh, Jamil falls on his back against the mattress. “Did you see the performers at the banquet?”

“The dancers were great. I saw them practicing in the morning before the event.” Jamil answers. It’s the first time you’re having a proper conversation, and while he’s not as chatty as Kalim (who he’s normally assigned to watch), you feel at ease.

“I remember them! The kitchen was handing out meals to the staff, and I was one of the delivery people.”

“Did you help cook too? There wasn’t enough salt in the curry.”

“You—! Then come and help us yourself!”

“Too much work.” Jamil pushes himself up on his elbows just to stick his tongue out at you, before turning to lay on his side. “We should rest. Tomorrow the guests are leaving, so the suites have to be cleaned.”

Even after you move back to your room, you spend time with Jamil, running off to the market after visiting family, and watching street performers and food vendors go about their day. On rare occasions, you knock on his window when you have a bad dream, and Jamil groggily holds up a conversation until you’ve calmed down. The stars are especially twinkly on those nights, as if they’re another witness to the friendship you shared beneath busy days and tall adults.

“Do you think we’d make good adults, Jamil?”

“Not many adults are good at it either. So we’ll be fine.”

“Well… That’s true. Goodnight, Jamil.”

“...Goodnight. Sleep tight.”

Vil Schoenheit

When you first met Vil as kids, you were intimidated by him not because he acted in evil roles, but because he had the aura of an adult.

“It’s weird… you look my age, but walk and talk like a grown-up.”

“Hm, I guess that’s not too bad of an impression. …What’s your name?”

You were next-door neighbors, and suffice to say your interests lied more in pop-culture as an audience rather than as an artist on-stage. It’s a world away from Vil who’s a child-actor and upcoming model, but when he’s not pursuing such work, he’s still just a boy.

…A boy who you were very surprised to see act his age, when he was with his father or smiled as he told you about the movies they starred in. You’d always listen, realizing that while Vil was always pretty, he’s even more eye-catching when he’s rambling about something he’s passionate about. It almost makes you want to grow up quickly too and pursue your own dreams.

No one would see this side of him outside the comfort of your homes, though. Vil has an image to uphold (at least, you’re quite sure he’s trying to craft a persona for the camera, considering how he asks you what you think an actor’s personality should be like), so you try and cover for him when strangers ask about Vil. Giving just enough praise without revealing too much, since they might be reporters:

“He’s really hard-working and nice to others! Vil even explains his work to me if I ask. You can tell he really loves acting.”

“Oh? You sound like you admire him a lot.”

“Well… lots of people do. Once you meet him, you’ll realize he’s like a diamond!”

Word of your comments gets to Vil, and he seems to be in a good mood, explaining to you that it sounds like something a fan would say. “...One day, I’ll have as many fans as my dad does.”

It becomes routine for Vil to knock on your door whenever he gets a new script. He likes having you watch him rehearse and give him your thoughts, amongst other things like discussing the story and causing the both of you to become invested in the plot.

You’re sworn to secrecy, of course, since you can’t leak the movie’s details. And after you’re a bit older, Vil instead makes it a game to read random lines to you, then asking you to make up the rest of the story (it’s a good improv session, even if your conversations devolve into ridiculous scenarios.)

You got each other parting gifts after you were accepted into different colleges; Vil’s to you is a ‘poisoned flower’, which is to say, an artificial flower scented to help you sleep. It’s so you can get proper rest instead of scrolling on your phone, Vil claims. And of course, you’re added into his personal Magicam to get life updates — even now, when asked who you were texting with a smile on your face, you keep Vil’s secret and claim it’s just a childhood friend:

“He’s in Night Raven College.”

“Oh, the same one Vil Schoenheit is in?”

“The very one! Pretty impressive, huh?”

#lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst reader insert #twst x you #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #storm writings

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lucid-loves · 10 months ago

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Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 1

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, plot, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Synopsis: After Makarov gets away again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you with each interaction.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

You’ve always been a light sleeper, if you could even be called that. The truth was that you hardly slept at all. Bedtime was always more like cat-nap time. Light, soundless, ready to pounce at the sound of dust falling to the floor. That’s how you trained yourself and the habit stuck, even if you don’t take missions anymore. It was hard to deprogram a killing machine.

The two years have been peaceful even if you were always on edge. Semi-retirement has been kind in only giving you the sounds of the forest trees in the wind, the gentle rush of the creek, birds singing every morning, and most importantly, no visitors. The world didn’t know that you existed and you preferred to keep it that way for as long as you could. While you did feel the phantom blood dripping down your hands every now and then to an unsettling reminiscent degree, you did like this little slice of heaven that was your off-grid cabin. It was a good place to be before you undoubtedly go to hell in the end.

You were in your bed when you heard the rustling of the forest floor just outside your window. Steps. But not the steps belonging to a fox or bear you have learned to recognize over time. These were the steps of a man. No, multiple men. The way the foot falls of a man walking is an undeniable melody you have heard thousands of times. In the dead of night, you bolted up out of bed and reached for your throwing knife and a pistol, always kept at your bedside. Like a thief in your own home, you silently followed the sounds outside along the walls until you reached the living room. They were going to come in through the front door.

Under the cover of darkness, you readied your aim at the door. To your surprise, they were messing with the keypad that locked your house down, inputting codes with a subtle click and then beep of a correct code. No one should know the code except for two people. Laswell and yourself.

As soon as the door revealed moonlight and a silhouette, you fired your gun. A warning shot. Grazing right past neck. The men stopped and immediately aimed their own rifles, but the one in front held his hand up in surrender. Following orders, the rifles were lowered. You were the first to speak, your voice dripping with venom. “State your purpose and maybe I won’t kill you all where you stand.”

A gentle yet deep Liverpudlian accent voiced back. “Easy now. We don’t mean harm. Laswell sent us here. Code Swan.”

“Song?” You replied, your muscles still tense, unwilling to lower your defenses until the full code was complete. It is what ensured both yours and Laswell’s safety.

“Black Death.” He replied back. You stayed in position for a few moments before finally sighing and lowering your weapon. You turned on a table lamp next to you to get a better look at the intruders. Four men stood in your doorway. One with a fishing hat, one with a mohawk, one with a baseball cap, and one with a skull mask. They were all tall, big with muscle, and seemingly not American from their patches. An interesting bunch to say the least.

“Fucking Laswell.” You cursed Kate’s name. She should have contacted you about this. You were just about to paint the porch with her mens’ brains. You hated surprises. You often killed them before finding out the intentions.

With a wave of your hand, you invited the men to come into your cabin. They cautiously came in, surveying the layout and now understanding what Kate meant when she said that you were “belligerent.”

You turned on the main lights and tried to get a fire going to relieve some of the autumn chill that had crept through the house. Their leader began to unload his things on the kitchen table, sighing from the weight relief. His men joined in, save for one. You could feel his eyes on you as you encouraged the fire. You didn’t even have to look back to know that he was watching your every move.

“It’s rude to stare.” You warned curtly as you stood and turned. The man in the skull mask and balaclava didn’t avert his gaze.

His voice was rich and gruff like gaboon ebony. His Manchester accent came clear as day. “You’re half naked.”

He was referring to the large band shirt and boyshort panties that you were wearing. What did he expect from someone that thought that enemies were breaking in? You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I’m in my pajamas. Besides, a good soldier shouldn’t get distracted by any amount of nudity.”

His blue eyes narrowed at your dig. He was a good soldier. An excellent soldier actually. One of the best. But excellent, good, or bad, no one would be able to resist staring at your figure. The exposed thighs, the large neckline of the shirt hanging off your shoulder, various scars scattered across skin like an abstract painting. He’s never seen anyone like you before.

Too bad you had a combative mouth.

Before he could get a word in, you had walked off into the kitchen, not bothering to go get pants on. It was your home for fuck’s sake. Besides, there were more pressing matters than your clothes or lack thereof.

You began to pull out all the food you had out of your fridge. Everything from deli meat to leftover lasagna was being laid out on the large quartz island. You weren’t going to heat anything up or make something new, but the laid out spread would be enough. You weren’t a completely heartless host. Just a bare minimum one.

Once the food was out for pickings, you headed back near the dining room, leaning against the doorframe. The boys had maps, blueprints, and laptops covering every surface of your table. Your beautiful, hand-made pine table. This was to be their new safehouse for now. Hopefully not for too long.

“Captain, it’s connecting now.” The one with the mohawk called out. The captain came right over to greet the screen.

“Laswell, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, John. Did everything go well?” Kate chipperly asked. You haven’t heard her voice in a long while. You almost forgot how nice her voice actually was.

“She nearly shot my fuckin’ neck off.” Mohawk-guy grumbled.

Kate gave a light, short laugh. “Sounds like it went smoothly then. The best that it could be. She there?”

All four men looked up to you, expecting you to come over and face Laswell through the screen. However, you stayed where you were. Instead, you spoke loud enough for your friend to hear. “Kate Laswell.”

“Hex, I’m sorry that I couldn’t warn you about this beforehand. You know I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t an emergency situation.” She began to apologize and justify. It was always an apology followed by a justification. You wondered if she even ever means her apologies, but in the end, you never really cared enough. However, now it is different.

“I don’t exist, Kate. And now four new people know that I do. . .” You retorted back.

It was silent for a moment, the tension in the air thick. She was on the other side of the screen, but it felt like you were going to get into a physical fight with her anyways. “They’re trustworthy. I trust them with my life and the lives of millions upon millions. Just like I trust you. And as the only people that I trust, I need you to help them.”

“They have already taken over my home. What more do you want from me?” You clenched your jaw, trying to prepare yourself for an answer you probably wouldn’t like. Like hell were you going to play dorm mother to them and like hell you were going to just move out. The last thing you wanted was to take care of these men longer than necessary. This was already pushing that line for you.

“Athame.” She bluntly said. That was the worst answer she could have said. The confused looks the men gave each other made you grateful for a fleeting second. They didn’t understand your secret codes and languages. But they will soon.

Your jaw was clenched so hard that your teeth ached. You damn near cracked them. While your voice before was dripping with venom, it was now drowning in it. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hex, I-”

You finally came over, nearly pushing the captain out of the way in your warpath. Through the screen, Kate could see how angry you were. Not just angry, furious. She steeled herself, ready for your onslaught of curses, stopping herself midway through her explanation. “I don’t do this shit, Kate! I work solo for a very particular fucking reason. And now you want me to work with four strange men?! Now you want me to play nice?! I’m not a fucking soldier that can just be ordered around!”

“I know! I know. . . But. . . we’re desperate. I’m desperate, Hex. Please, this is the last favor I will ever ask from you. This is an awful target we’re talking about. Someone that is better off in this world dead.”

“You mean Makarov, right? Why should I clean up your government’s fuck-up? Again, might I add.” You spat. You lived off the grid and weren’t a citizen of anywhere, but you still watched the news. You always knew what was going on in the world among other secrets. Makarov was a threat to the world, but as far as you were concerned, it wasn’t your problem. If anything, the government needed this lesson as a direct consequence of their negligence and incompetence.

“Because Chalice.” She simply stated, knowing that her final word was a last ditch effort. Chalice was an agreement that you two had made long ago. It could only be used once in your lives, a truly desperate resort for help. If one of you uttered it, then the other would have no choice but to help, no matter the request. That was the law between your friendship, among other things. The other code words were favors, but this was the ultimate one. Life or death.

You considered punching the laptop in anger. Right at Kate’s face. You didn’t like her call for Athame or Chalice, but now you didn’t have a choice but to comply. It didn’t mean that you weren’t still furious though. “Fuck you, Kate.”

“Thank you, Hex.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to tell you more about what she needed from you, but she knew that you had to cool off first otherwise you would burst into flames. That would've made things harder for all of you. So, she nodded as a signal for dismissal which you gladly took. You retreated to your room, locking the door shut and basking in the darkness.

You could feel the blood boil within you. It burned your insides and choked you. Grabbing your pillow, you pressed it against your face and screamed out your frustration. When that didn’t help, you punched the exposed logs of your cabin wall until your knuckles were splintered and bleeding.

Ghost sat on the couch, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. The rest of the meeting with Laswell was brief, wanting them to try to decompress for the next several hours. Sleep, eat, process. All in the comfort of an assassin’s home.

Compared to your personality, the cabin was decorated warmly. Everything was cozy, earthy, and fresh. The fire crackled comfortably, the plush couch was broken in, and every wooden piece of furniture looked hand-made. Bookshelves were filled with classic books and another shelf collected various music records. The only thing that seemed out of place was the lack of real personal mementos. No pictures, no art, not even knick-knacks. The others didn’t seem to notice or care as they picked through the food left in the kitchen. But for Simon, it left him uneasy.

He recalled the briefing before they were sent to the middle of nowhere to you. Kate said that you were an old friend of hers from high school. You have been friends ever since, but you were different than most people. You were a deadly assassin unknown by the world. No records, no pictures, not even a birth certificate. You handled delicate problems with grace and grave justice. You always worked alone, you didn’t trust others, and you were deadly. Everything about you was a secret until Kate made the crucial choice to ask for your help. Hell, they didn’t even know your call sign until Kate said it over the video call.

“You should eat, Lt. There’s a lot of options, but they’re dwindling fast.” Soap patted him on the shoulder, awakening him from deep thought. Ghost looked up at the sergeant, watching him stuff a sandwich into his mouth. It looked like all the deli meat from one packet was in between the bread. No lettuce or tomato.

“In a bit. I’m gonna talk to Hex real quick and ask some questions.” He replied and got up from the couch.

Soap swallowed nervously. “Kate said that she’s gonna need time to cool off. . .”

“Our new member is part of the team now. She’s gonna have to get used to us even if she wants time for herself.” He justified it with a shrug of his shoulders. Soap shook his head and walked back into the kitchen, knowing that what Simon was about to do was most likely going to be a bad idea.

Ghost walked down the hall, observing each door as he passed them. Most of them were slightly open revealing extra bedrooms, an office, and a bathroom. Only two of them remained closed, both locked with keypads. For a second, he wondered which bedroom was yours before he could hear the sound of light music behind one of them along with swearing. It made him wonder what was behind the other door that was locked down.

Deciding to let it go for now, he approached your door and knocked. “Hex, open up.”

He heard you let out a frustrated groan before the door opened up. It was only just enough to see you, the pure darkness behind you, and the blood dripping down your fists. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and quirked a brow that you couldn’t see behind the mask. It didn’t take a genius to realize what you had done. “Are you done throwing a temper tantrum?”

You scowled at him, a fire in your eyes that made Simon’s heart skip a beat which confused him. He wasn’t afraid of you, so why would his heart alter its beat for you?

“If I knew that you were just going to insult me, I would’ve shot you dead on my porch.” You bitterly snapped, moving to close the door in his face. However, Ghost stopped it from slamming and took your hand in his, observing the damage you’ve done to yourself.

Your breath caught in your throat. Electricity ran through you at his touch. When was the last time someone has touched you? You attempted to pull back, but his hand firmly gripped yours. “Hey! What the fuck? Let go of me!”

“Calm down and let me see. It hurts, doesn’t it? Stings?”

You narrowed your eyes, but eventually nodded. It did sting and the dripping blood already stained your carpet. However, you could take care of it yourself. You didn’t need some man coming in to try to fix you. “I’ll be fine. I can tend to it myself.”

“First aid in the bathroom?” He asked, seeming to ignore your clear hint that you wanted to be alone.

Understanding that he probably wouldn’t drop this until he saw gauze around your knuckles, you headed to the hall bathroom with a huff, opened up the cabinet, and took out the first aid kit. You then took a seat at the edge of the tub and began patching yourself up. Every now and then you looked up towards the doorway, making sure that the skull man was watching you take care of yourself. Without his help. Without anyone’s help.

Finally, your hands were wrapped and the bleeding had stopped. You held up your hands towards him. “Happy now? Will you leave me alone now?”

“Hex.” Ghost simply said as a warning. God, you were infuriating. An attitude problem was something he would normally be able to snuff out immediately. He did it all the time when training new soldiers. Not you though. New soldiers were like little candles, easily blown out of their fire with just a breath. You? You were like a raging forest fire. One that clearly had its own traumas over years of service that the world may never know.

You didn’t like how he studied you. How his eyes trained on you were a mix between hatred, curiosity, and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A magnetic pull that begged for you to look at him too. You also didn’t like how he was trying to treat you like one of his rookie soldiers. The only thing you wanted to do to make it all stop was to push him away. “Don’t talk to me like some new recruit straight out of school. I’ve already earned my place in the world with the amount of scars I have. So, don’t treat me like I’m under you. I won’t even let your captain talk to me like that.”

After putting the first aid back where it belonged, you attempted to leave the bathroom and retreat back to your bedroom. Yet, Ghost wasn’t giving up just yet. His hold body blocked the bathroom exit. He was tall, strong, and sturdy. It wasn’t hard for him to completely fill up the space. However, that didn’t intimidate you. You got up close, and looked straight into those icy blues. Even with the black warpaint, you could tell that his lashes were meant to be blonde. Some of the paint had flecked off revealing some true color. You wondered what the rest of his face looked like for a second. Just a second.

You stood your ground, engaging in a heated staring contest. It was like lightning crackling between the two of you. After a while though, Simon finally gave in and held his hand up like a handshake. “Lieutenant. They call me Ghost.”

Hesitantly, you took his hand and firmly shook it, refusing to back down from a battle of wills. “Hex. That’s all you will know me by.”

Suddenly, he pulled you in closer, your chest almost touching his. On instinct, you pulled a knife from the waistband of your underwear. It was the one you took with you earlier for the showdown at the door. You held it to his neck, blade dipping in until you could feel the push back of skin. Ghost didn’t flinch or jump back at your defense. Instead, he whispered into your ear that he wanted to get close to in the first place. “As hard as you may try to fight it, you’re going to know me. And I’m going to know you.”

You bit back the shiver that went down your spine from the whisper, aching to slice his throat in retaliation. Chalice had you pinned, though. You had to avoid killing the people you are going to be working with at the very least.

Ghost slowly backed up and headed back towards the kitchen for some food, leaving you to process what just happened. You silently walked back to your room without looking back at him, ears turning red and heart racing unnaturally. You didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by giving him any more attention. However, Simon was already somewhat satisfied.

Yet, there was a part of him that wanted more.

Soap was eating a piece of lasagna when he walked in. Gaz and Price were quietly conversing at the other end of the island. It took a lot of food to fill up men like them. It wouldn’t take long for them to eat you out of your house and home unfortunately.

“So, how did it go?” Soap nosely inquired. As Simon surveyed the food before picking out a tupperware full of stew, he shrugged casually.

“She almost sliced my head off.”

Soap suppressed a chuckle and did his best impersonation of Laswell. “Sounds like it went smoothly then.”

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saetoru · 2 years ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。APOLOGIES — SHIDOU RYUSEI.

✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, post argument make-up, annoying shidou as always, reposting bc it got marked w a label the first time even tho it’s sfw

dating shidou is not easy, it takes maturity and patience and the will of god’s strongest soldier. in fact, most of the time, dating shidou means you’re constantly drifting in and out of being mad at him—which, right now, you’re quite mad.

“shidou ryusei, it is one am,” you glare, opening your door and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. he has a wolfish grin on his face—it’s cocky, and it widens as he stares you up and down in your little batman pajama pants. normally, you wouldn’t answer the door for someone you’re mad at, boyfriend or not, but shidou makes it hard to ignore with his incessant knocking.

you value your sleep—and more importantly, you value not being kicked from your apartment for noise complaints.

“aw, not the full government name,” he says slyly, and it only makes your blood pressure rise even more as you practically feel a vein pop.

“ryusei,” you warn. but he doesn’t pay attention, just as you expect. instead, he whistles lowly.

“i like the uniform. ‘s cute,” he cackles, eyeing the way your pants are hung a little lower on your hips from tossing around in bed, exposing a bit of skin that he drinks in shamelessly.

“thanks,” you say dryly, “they’re fuzzy and they were half off. now why are you here?”

“just visiting,” he shrugs.

“at one am?”

“it’s twelve fifty-two,” he corrects like he lives to defy you in every corner. and you bet he loves it—in fact, you know he’s positively enthused by the way your lips curl into a scowl and your eyes glare at him so fiercely. he stares down at the way your hips slant as your cross your arms, and he chuckles (which you think is almost passable as a giggle at the sheer giddiness.)

only shidou ryusei would be giddy from turning you halfway near homicidal, and only he would find the murderous glint in your eyes cute, wholesome.

“what do you want,” you say bluntly. he takes a step forward, and no matter how mad you are, you can’t help but stand painfully still as he leans closer, trying your damn hardest not to lean in when his hot breath fans over your face as he stares at you.

“your bed would be nice,” he hums, “preferably with you in it.”

he’s insufferable. everything he does and says makes you want to chuck bricks at his head and hope it fixes the loose wires he seems to have. but you don’t even get to finish saying, “fuck off, ryu—” before he cuts in.

“c’mon, don’t make me find a way in myself,” he curls his lips wickedly, like he’s got you in checkmate, like the cards have been in his favor all along as you play the game he’s written. but this time is different—this time, you’re determined not to let shidou take advantage of your weak heart through his rough and tough charms.

this time, you have a point to prove.

“i’m going to call the cops on you,” you threaten, “tell them i’m being harassed by a pink-haired freak.”

“i wouldn’t mind getting married in jail,” he grins, and you can practically make out the hearts in his eyes as he looks at you. it makes you want to slam the door in his face and go right back to bed. but that would only mean he’d go back to pounding on your door and singing your name, and you’re pretty sure you’re one more instance away from your neighbors collectively petitioning your eviction.

“i don’t want to marry you,” you hiss.

“don’t be like that,” he reaches to poke your cheek, “being inmates would be fun. we could give the officers a show as we fuck—”

“ryusei,” you hiss.

arguing with shidou always ends like this. he worms his way in and knocks down your walls without ever saying i’m sorry. he eases his way back into your heart with wide grins and cheeky comments and that charm of his that really shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. he never admits he’s wrong—but the way he tries harder the next time, makes sure he does it right, makes sure he’s better just for you, you know he cares. he never resolves things in the way you would consider the standard method of patching up after those unavoidable couple fights—but this time you decide it’s different.

this time your feelings are hurt—really hurt. the kind of hurt that makes you wonder if you’re annoying. or if you talk a lot. or if he even wants to be around you. or that maybe you tire him out. or that the sound of your voice is grating. or that you overstep boundaries.

this time there is no brushing the cracked shards of your heart under the rug and acting like he can kiss the pieces back together. this time you want to hear it from him—and if you have to stand at your door at ungodly hours of the morning and milk it out of him…well, you’re inclined to do that.

“c’mon, babe. are you gonna keep me out here all night? lemme in—”

“you’re not coming in until you apologize,” you say bluntly. he groans, throws his head back, and slaps his hands over his face as he grumbles into his palms.

“god, you’re killin’ me here. seriously, you know i didn’t mean it—”

“��for fuck’s sake, i’m not your damn kid’,” you mock his voice from the other night, reminding him of his own words like he’s forgotten. he only stares at you with pursed lips and a blank face, but that doesn’t stop you, however, as you scowl at him and continue, “i don’t know. you seemed to really mean it when you said that.”

“i was just tired, you know that—”

“i was just trying to look out for you,” you don’t even seem like you’re listening to him anymore, poking a finger at his chest accusingly as he lets you, “i watch you sleep at unreasonable hours only to wake up before the sun itself—”

“yeah, and i told you i’d work on that—”

“and then i ask you, have you eaten today? and you know what you tell me? yeah, i had a protein shake this morning—”

“okay, and that was like one time—”

“and then i hear that you get into a fight, and lo and behold, you show up to my place with a bloody nose and cracked knuckles—”

“but you should’ve seen the other guy—”

“and then i come over to your apartment, and your laundry isn’t done, your dishes aren’t washed, and you have eighty million socks on the floor,” you start to put a finger up for everything you list, making him fiercely fight back a chuckle that he knows would seal his death wish, “and all i try to do is take care of you so that you can be healthy and play your best and what do you do? yell at me and tell me it’s not my responsibility to—”

you’re cut off by lips pressing onto yours harshly, the rough feeling of a calloused hand cupping your cheeks and bringing you closer. and maybe if you had a bit more self-respect, you would shove away the rude, ungrateful, irritating, tacky-haired douchebag of a boyfriend that stands in front of you, but you simply choose to lose all dignity when it counts most. you choose to give in, melt into his touch, lean closer and fist his shirt as your lips press back just as firm.

and when he gently pushes you back, you let him. you even let him step into your apartment and spin you around, shutting the door and pressing your back against the cool surface. his body cages you so that there’s no room for escape—not that you think you could even run from him now that he’s let himself in, anyway. but with one more peck to your lips, he pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours as he clicks his teeth and sighs.

“fine, i’m fuckin’ sorry. ‘s that what you wanted to hear?”

“not if you’re only saying it to make me un-mad,” you say stubbornly.

he clicks his teeth again, shoots you a look of irritation that you return tenfold. “‘m sayin’ it ‘cus i want to, dumbass. you think i’d say that shit just to say it?”

“i don’t know, you’re rude,” you shrug, not meeting his eyes. he rolls his eyes before he leans in and kisses your cheek, then the other, then the tip of your nose, then just over your brow, then your eyelid—and when he sees the beginnings of a smile crack on your lips, he nibbles on your cheek and pulls a soft giggle from you against your will.

“said i was fuckin’ sorry, stop being stubborn.”

“don’t yell at me again,” you huff, “and fix your sleep schedule.”

“okay.”

“and eat proper meals.”

“fine.”

“and maybe clean up.”

“kay, i’ll try. happy?”

“and stop getting into fights—”

“let’s set realistic expectations, here,” he cuts you off, earning a huff from you. but you seem significantly less angry—and he’s glad. because sleeping without your body to squeeze in the dead of night and not hearing you hum that stupid song you always listen to as you wash dishes and not getting those back to back pings on his phone as you spam him with daily updates is starting to get to him. so he wraps an arm around your waist, tugs you flush against his chest as meets your gaze, “are you still mad? because then you’re just being difficult.”

“no,” you sigh, making him grin.

“good.”

“i just love you,” you mumble, and there’s that cute, innocent little pout that you always do tugging at your lips, the one that drives him mad and reminds him he’s just as in love too. “i want what’s best for you—”

“yeah, yeah,” he grunts, “okay. i love you too. i’ll start being more responsible and shit. now can i come to bed?”

“fine,” you cave, “but—”

“great, let’s go,” he drags you along, not wasting a moment before your body is tossed onto the mattress and his lands on top of you, head tucking into your neck. and it’s warm—where his lips are, where he traces kisses along the awaiting skin.

dating shidou ryusei is exhausting—but there are a few perks, you have to admit.

“you’re a headache,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair. he snorts, shakes his head from his place in your neck, earning a small giggle from you at the way it tickles.

“yeah? so are you with your nagging.”

“i don’t nag,” you slap his shoulder. he laughs—it’s that low, soft rumble that he only laughs around you, when his head is tucked into your neck, and your hands rub up and down his back, and he’s content.

and maybe a little in love.

“you do. but i love it, it’s hot when you’re mad.”

“go to sleep, ryusei,” you roll your eyes. and then you wait a moment or two—just so he doesn’t get a big head when you begrudgingly mumble, “and i love you too.”

half of this is just filler with dialogue but wtv. take this lil scenario in my head of arguing w shidou bc he’s a living train wreck

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#shidou x reader #shidou x you #shidou fluff #shidou ryusei fluff #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk fluff

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pixiesfz · 11 months ago

Note

I know it’s not the normal thing you write so if you don’t want to then that’s fine! But I’d love a platonic lionesses fic (or just Lucy if you’d prefer) when r is the youngest player on the team and they’re all a bit overprotective of her

love this idea of a young teen lioness!!

plot: y/n's partner breaks up with y/n right before camp

warning: them pronouns are used for partner, and crying, I'm not sure what you should call a warning (also if anyone thinks they wouldn't cry like a bitch when they get broken up with is like wrong)

You stared at your phone as your tears dropped down on the text message that now clouded your brain.

You were sixteen you shouldn't expect your first relationship to be your one and only.

But you loved them.

You read the message again.

'It's really not working y/n'

'I think it's best if we break up'

'I can't deal with this anymore'

You wiped away the tears on your face. Long distance was hard and you were leaving every now and then for your soccer career, you thought they would supported you and they did at first.

Then you stopped ringing each other every night, you were sometimes late to their messages because of training and you even saw on your other friends stories of them at parties talking to other girls.

You tried to convince yourself it wasn't going to happen.

But now it has.

The doorbell went off causing you to jump and drop your phone on the floor "fuck, shit fuck" you grunted out as it hit your foot.

You remembered that Ella and Alessia had decided to pick you up to drive you to camp that day.

You quickly wiped the tears off your face and took a deep breath as the doorbell rang again and Ella's voice could be heard.

"Y/N! for god sakes are you deaf!"

It almost brought a smile to your face before you grabbed your suitcase and walked out of your room and to the front door and opened it.

Alessia was about to ring the doorbell again until you opened the door. "Finally" Ella yelled as you looked down and played with your air pod case.

"I uhm- yeah sorry I was on a call with mum" you said with a soft voice as you were already walking towards the car trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls who thankfully didn't think anything of it.

You were quiet the whole ride which weirded the two girls out usually, you would be talking their ears off and you would all sing along to some Disney song.

Even when you had arrived you quickly hurried off with a quick 'thanks' and went to get changed.

"Somethings off" Alessia said once you were out of earshot "no shit sherlock" Ella replied before they ushered over to Lucy and Keira who had also just arrived.

"Why's the little one running?" Lucy asked as she watched you with furrowed brows "somethings up she didn't talk the entire ride" Alessia explained and Keira's mouth dropped "your kidding" she said and then looked at the doors you had just walked through with worry.

You were in the rooms tying up your shoes when Leah and Beth walked in "hey chicken" Beth smiled and you nodded "Hey Beth" you relied softly, still with your head between your legs.

Leah looked at you weirdly before they walked through the rooms again and collected everyone to start training.

You weren't doing well, even when you first walked onto the pitch you looked into the empty stands where you once ran up to see your ex and hug them after a game-winning goal.

You opted to tell someone but you shook it off, you were just sixteen relationships aren't important and they definitely wouldn't care about it much.

But the more you battled your brain about it the more you kept on stuffing up weather it was a dribble, a tackle or a shot at goal.

It was Mary who noticed first "y/n you good?" she asked as you missed another shot "yeah" you replied as you fought away the tears that tried to slip out just by the goalkeeper asking about your feelings.

She nodded before looking at Leah who shot her brows at her.

You kept on trying to kick some goals and missing or taking easy shots and Mary caught them with ease. You knew what was wrong but you didn't think it would impact your playing skills.

It frustrated you and all the girls were sharing looks about your 'skills'.

When training finished you stayed on the pitch and watched as they all went in, leaving you alone.

You grabbed a ball harshly from the sideline and took it to the penalty line and kicked it.

miss.

kicked it again,

miss.

then again,

post.

You were growing so frustrated as tears now ran down your cheeks and you swore loudly at yourself. You walked up to the ball one more time to grab it but your hand stopped once you reached it as you thought about the texts once more this morning and you let out a choked sob.

You hadn't given yourself time to really cry yet and now it finally caught up to you.

You didn't know that some of the team hadn't left yet as they were worried about you but watched from the top.

"She was funny before training" Alessia explained to Leah who had her hands crossed whilst she watched you try and kick penalties "She didn't look at me at all when I said hi" Beth piped up and Leah tilted her head "She never misses" she muttered.

Lucy noticed the frustration growing on your face "Do you think something happened at home?" she wondered quietly before the girls looked back at her and took it in.

You weren't aware of their eyes on you as you dropped to the floor with the ball and kicked it as hard as you could near the goals which hit the net.

"fuck off" you cried out with your annoyance at the accidental goal and you rolled up your long sleeve to your palms and put them to your face which you cried into.

It wasn't anyone's fault it didn't work out, you tried to tell yourself but you didn't believe it.

You left to pursue soccer, you left them behind.

They were your first love and you're the reason they left.

You were too focused on your own thoughts to hear Lucy running over to you and you were too tired to pry away her arms which were picking you up.

"y/n/n" she said as she turned you around but you found yourself hugging the older girl in comfort. Keira came in next her heart dropping at the sight of you hugging Lucy in tears.

"Y/n what's wrong?" Lucy asked softly as she looked down at you, you sniffed and looked up "they broke up with me this morning" you said and watched Lucy's reaction.

She breathed in before hugging you tighter "it's going to be fine y/n, you'll get through this" she said before Keira beckoned the other girls to come over "we will help you get through this" she said before nodding her head at the girls which were now on the pitch walking towards you.

You let go of Lucy to look at the Lionesses who where worried about you.

"I'm sorry I was shit today at training" you apologized to Leah who scoffed "Oh shut up we only care about if you're okay" she told you and hugged you as well.

"I do have one question though" Lucy said from behind you "what?" you asked

"Can I find them and beat them up?"

"Lucy!" Keira said and smacked her arm which you laughed at.

"Thanks, guys," you said with a smile that wasn't fake, you couldn't believe you lucked out with a team like this.

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dragon-kazansky · 1 month ago

Text

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Eleven - Eternally yours

Lestat stood next to his open coffin with a grin on his face. He had removed his shirt only minutes ago, standing there in all his perfect glory. Well, almost all his glory. He looked at you with his piercing eyes, daring you to come closer.

“Are you afraid?” He asks, teasingly.

“That's your coffin.”

“Room enough for too, Amour.”

He's loving every second of this and you know it. He knows you know it. He's playing with you.

“Will I get my own coffin?” You ask.

“I wasn't planning on it.”

Smug bastard.

Lestat plans to keep you all to himself forever and ever. You find yourself not entirely minding, but if this is your life now, the least he could do is get you your own coffin. Though maybe you'll find yourself preferring the shared one. More intimate that way.

Lestat beckons you closer. You put one foot in front of the other until you're right in front of him. Lestat steps into his coffin without breaking eye contact with you and takes your hand as he begins to sit down. You follow him down, nestling yourself between his legs as he lays back. You lay against the length of his body as he closes the coffin over you both.

Total darkness. His arms around your body. His lips press against the top of your head.

Your Lestat.

Nightfall. That's going to take some getting used to. Sleeping through the day and being awake during the night. Even as an undead your body will need to adjust to the differences in your life now.

Lestat pushes open the coffin and takes a good look at your face. “How did you sleep, amour?”

“Like the dead.”

He chuckles at your dry sense of humour. He tucks some hair behind your ear and takes a moment to admire you. You're so beautiful. Perfection. His. Lestat feels like he'll be very happy with you beside him forever.

“A new night. More fun to be had.” He smiles as he talks. His hands are still caressing through your hair. He's being so gentle, so loving.

“Lestat?”

“Oui, amour?”

“Why me?”

He smiles as his eyes meet yours. His hand is still in your hair. “Because you are everything, my dear. Everything.”

Lestat helps you out of the coffin and keeps you close as he dresses. He then proceeds to assist you in dressing, finding any excuse to touch you. His hand glides along your skin leaving you shivering.

He dresses you up as if he's taking you out, because he is. It's not until he's ushering you out the door and he takes your arm in his that you realise what he's doing. You walk arm in arm with him down the street.

“I'm going to teach you how to use some of those powers you now possess.”

“Like?”

“Reading minds.”

“Can I read your mind?” You ask.

“No. I am the one who turned you. I'm your master, so to speak. I can no longer read your mind, nor you mine.”

“How do you do it then?”

“Pick a mortal. Listen to their heartbeat. Focus on it. Hear it. Then focus on their mind. You'll hear their thoughts.” He smiles.

You look around you and pick someone. A man walking towards you. You focus, listen. His heart thumps loudly in your ears. You can hear the blood in his veins too. You lick your lips.

“Focus, Chéri.”

You lock back onto his heartbeat. Then his mind. You hear nothing. Just the thumping of his heart and the breaths escaping through his lips. You're about to tell Lestat you hear nothing when a voice belonging to neither of you speaks.

‘The sooner I get home, the better.’

The man clenches his fist and walks right past you. You stop in the street and turn to look at him. Lestat stops right beside you and follows the man with his gaze too. He smiles. “Did it work?”

You turn your eyes to him and smile.

Lestat takes your hand and drags you off further down the street. As you both walk up you focus on different individuals and find yourself hearing the struggles and pleasure of the people around you. Lestat is amused by the way you listen to the minds of mortals. A part of him misses being able to get inside your head, but it's a sacrifice worth suffering for having you beside him like this.

‘I wonder if Lydia is free tonight.’

‘God, I need to eat soon.’

‘My wife will never know.’

‘Just a little more money and I'll be free.’

‘Now, that's a body I wouldn't mind exploring all over.’

All these thoughts around you. The last being aimed at you. When the man saw you looking at him he gave you a frown. Lestat was already glaring at him. A possessive arm wrapped around your waist.

“So many people. So many thoughts.”

“Yes. You can hear people's true intentions clearly. The human race is so pathetic and crude.”

“I was human literally yesterday,” you remind him.

“And now you are a beautiful creature of night. You shall be unstoppable, my love.” He grins. His eyes are lit up with delight.

You can't help but smile.

Lestat took you dancing of all things. He didn't seem to mind showing you off where he could. He had you on his arm for most of the night and twirled you around the dance floor for a good couple of hours.

You met a lovely couple. Jason and Monica. Just engaged. They had come out to celebrate. You didn't need to be able to read Lestat's mind to know where this was going.

Monica was showing off her ring. Lestat, in a dramatic fashion, took hold of her hand and complimented the ring. You smiled at his antics. That's when he set the plan into motion. “You must come back to ours. We can celebrate with a drink literally on the house.”

The couple looked at each other and then nodded. They had no sense of safety. Lestat grinned and took your arm again.

The couple walked with you all the way back to the house. Monica told you about all the plans she had for the wedding. It sounded lovely. Shame it would only happen in her head.

Leatat opened the door for you all and one by one you all went inside. You told them to make themselves comfortable on the sofas. Lestat went off to pour drinks. You kept the couple company.

“This house is incredible.” Jason commented.

“Yes, it's very Lestat,” you chuckle.

“Are you two married?” Monica asks. There was obviously a lack of a ring on your finger.

You go to answer, but Lestat answers for you. “What we have is far more richer than marriage.” Those words set your spine tingling.

Monica seems enamored by that statement. “Oh, I hope we have that one day.”

Unlikely.

Lestat hands out the wine. You hold yours in your hand, not interested in even tasting it. Your tastes have been altered to more lively things as of late. Lestat is amused.

The couple across from you taste theirs. Jason compliments it while Monica gives it a little sniff. They clearly didn't know much about wine, but were making the most of the vintage they had been given.

Lestat walks past where you sit and slowly makes his way behind the happy couple. There's a piano back by the window over there. He puts his glass down and sits at the bench. He looks at you as he begins to play. You watch him with a smile upon your lips. He holds your gaze the entire time he plays. The couple are non the wiser to the intimate and deep yet silent conversation transpiring between you both.

Your lover changes the pace of the music, choosing something upbeat and cheerful. Monica comments how talented he is and Lestat grins. “Now as talented as my love over there. Why not enjoy yourselves and dance?”

Jason doesn't hesitate to stand up and take Monica's hand. The couple begin to dance around you, all the while you keep your eyes on Lestat. He's still grinning.

You can hear it. The blood rushing in their veins. They're excited and happy. Lestat had done this on purpose. The couple dance and laugh and smile. Jason pulls Monica into a rather passionate kiss and Lestat stops playing. Within seconds he's behind Jason.

You don't hesitate to follow suit and appear behind Monica. You share a look with Lestat. There is desire in his eyes. A desire to satisfy his hunger, and a desire to have you.

Lestat doesn't waste time. He grabs Jason by the shoulders and pins him to the ground, straddling the tall man and sinking his fangs into his neck. Monica doesn't even get time to scream before you're dipping her and sinking your own fangs into her own neck. Her blood floods your mouth as you hungrily suck.

Your lover looks up from his victim to see you feeding in front of him. There has never been a more beautiful sight. Lestat drops Jason's body like a sack of potatoes and instantly stalks his way over to you. He brings your lips away from the woman's neck and brings them to his own, kissing you hungrily. Your arms wrap around his neck as you taste his lips.

Jason and Monica lay dying on the floor as Lestat works on undressing you.

This is what he needed.

This is what he wanted.

This is everything he desired.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4 @darkqueen1995 @bridkesby @caribbeangal @sarcasticandfangirl @missjadesfics @kaybart19 @whereismymindnow @chauchirem @angelrenee239 @ppureheroiine @heyitsaloy

#the song in our hearts #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #iwtv #dragon's lair

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alastor-simp · 1 year ago

Text

Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis Reacting to a reader who sings like Japanese singer “Ado”

Deciding to try doing another fandom, so I’m gonna do black butler. Only doing Sebby and Ciel since I’m more in tune on how to write them compared to the other characters. Gonna continue the Ado series with them too. I know that this was the Victorian Era so they didn't have stuff like Youtube, so I'm gonna try to change it a bit, and not include that. Enjoy everyone :)

Ciel Phantomhive♟️

♟️Ciel had many duties to attend to as he was the head of Phantomhive manor along with being the Queen’s Watchdog. Apart from filling out paperwork for his company, he had many hobbies that Sebastian help teach him like hunting or playing the violin.

♟️He had met you by Lizzy, as she had found you during one of her strolls in London. You were a frail little thing, but you had a certain amount of skills, so Ciel decided to hire you as a maid for the manor. Hopefully your skills you be much better then the other three. You were a fast learner, and quickly adapted to life at the manor. Both him and Sebastian were impressed with how well you handle your tasks.

♟️Ciel was on his way back to his office when he heard the sound of someone singing. Curious, he headed to wear the sound was coming from and made his way over to one of the rooms which had the door slightly open. Ciel peeked in and saw you in the middle of the room, leaning against the window. You had just finished up dusting the area and decided to take a small break, and while in your break, you started singing as it was something you loved to do.

♟️Once you finished, you heard the sound of clapping and turned to see Lord Phantomhive, leaning against the door with a small smile on his face. “Ahh, Young Master, I was just um-”, you were flustered and tried to explain yourself, but Ciel just put his hand up, which made you stop talking

♟️ “I am not upset with you, y/n. I’m very surprised actually. You never told me you could sing.” Ciel said as he walked closer towards you, standing next to the window. You went on to explain to him that you always loved singing, but you had a slight problem with revealing yourself to everyone as you preferred keeping your identity hidden.

♟️Ciel listened to you and he smiled softly, walking closer to you and grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. He said that you were very talented and should pursue what you loved doing instead of working as a maid. You would still live in the manor, but he would do everything he can to support you in anyway. He knew that hiding your identity would be a challenge, but he assume that maybe a mask would be beneficial to hide your identity.

♟️After that, Ciel would host events at the manor where he would have you perform in front of all of the guests. Everyone was blown away by you that all of the nobles were gossiping about who you were. Pretty soon, you were getting requests to perform at theaters and balls. Everyone was referring to you as the mysterious singer since no one could see your face when you performed, but no one really question it.

♟️Ciel was happy for you that you were achieving your dreams and he was glad to assist in any way with events. He also would like to know what was the new song you were working on, as he was feeling giddy, but he tried to tried to hide it to avoid teasing from Sebastian.

♟️His favorite song that you sang was a cover you did called " Crime & Punishment". He wasn't familiar with that genre of music, but he did enjoy it, and loved how high you went with certain notes in the song.

youtube

Sebastian Michaelis😈

😈Sebastian had many duties to fulfill for his young master. There was many tasks he had to play, playing his role as a butler for the manor while also serving as the demon contractor/protector for the young masters soul. Tasks like this for a human would be difficult, but for Sebastian it was nothing.

😈Since Sebastian as been around for a long time, he possessed many talents and skills, ranging from speaking Latin, horseback riding, and playing certain instruments. He was tasked with teaching the young master these things as he was the Lord of Phantomhive manor, though his skills for the violin needed a lot of work.

😈Sebastian had met you during one of his strolls in London. He was on his way back from receiving supplies, when he passed an alley and saw you being held against the wall by three men, with knives. Ahh humans, always so greedy that they would resort to stealing from a young maiden. It all happen so quick, one second you were being threatened by these guys for money then all of a sudden, all three of the men ended being knocked out, and a tall handsome man wearing a suit was in front of you. You thanked him for helping you, and went out of your way to say you were looking for a place to work, to which led you to being introduce to Ciel Phantomhive and becoming a maid for the manor.

😈Sebastian noticed that you were nothing like the other three workers, as you didn't possess any secret skills, but he did appreciate how quick you were to learn and perform your tasks at the manor. There was something about you that drew you to him, he wasn't sure what it was, but he figured there was more too you then just being a regular human.

😈Upon leaving the young masters study after serving him his afternoon tea, Sebastian started to make his way back to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal, and to make sure Bard wasn't using the flamethrower again. He stopped once he heard the sounds of someone singing nearby. Curious, he ventured closer to where the singing was coming from, and noticed that one of the doors was opened slightly. Peeking his head through the door, Sebastian saw you in the middle of the room, dusting one of the shelves, while singing a random melody.

😈"Oya, this human is very interesting", Sebastian thought as he entered the room slowly as not to disturb your singing. Upon turning around after you finished dusting, you dropped the feather duster in shock and covered your mouth as you realized Sebastian was in the room and heard you singing: "S-sebastian! U-um I was um-." Stumbling over your words, you were unable to explain anything to him, and quickly ducked your head down in embarrassment. Chuckling, Sebastian walked closer towards you, lifting your head by placing his fingers on your chin: "Your singing is quite beautiful, Y/N. How come you never told me or the young master you could sing?"

😈Looking away from his gorgeous eyes, you explained to him that you always loved singing, but you preferred to sing in private, or sing where no one could tell it was you. You apologized again if you had distracted him from his duties, but Sebastian just shook his head and smiled saying there was no need to apologize for something like this, but he still wondered why you decided to work as a maid and not a singer.

😈After that, Sebastian explained what had happened with the young master about your hidden talents and insisted in a plan that could benefit both his company and your dream. Ciel was surprised that Sebastian had taken an interest in you, but he didn't think to hard on it and listened to what plan Sebastian had in mind.

😈The both of them discussed the plan with you to be a private singer for the Funtom company. Whenever they would travel to an event for one of the other lords, they would have you there to sing and entertain the guests with your beautiful singing, in disguise of course as you were insistent that you wanted your appearance hidden from everyone. Word spread quickly over the streets of London about the mysterious singer of the Funtom company, including reaching the Queen herself as she was amazed by this singer and sent a letter to Lord Phantomhive herself, requesting the mysterious singer to attend the next ball/event she would plan.

😈Sebastian was quite pleased with how well things were going. Not only was the young masters company becoming extremely popular now, but also you were able to do what you loved which was sing. Of course, Sebastian had to make sure your needs were met and made sure you were not overworking yourself too much as what kind of butler would he be if he didn't provide the best care for you.

😈His favorite song of yours is "Domestic De Violence" . He finds the melody to be very beautiful and finds the lyrics to be very manipulating, but in a good way for him.

youtube

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shushmal · 7 months ago

Text

A Truth Acknowledged

one time i made a post about regency omegaverse steddie and i found it again so here's a potential part one if the spirit compels me again i'll continue

The house has been quiet for many years now, so Steve is not unused to the stillness that's long settled over Harrington House. He much prefers it, even. At twenty and four years, unwed and without a mother or a tutor to tame him, Steve has grown as wild as his home has grown quiet, left often to his own company. Since his presentation, he's roamed the hills of Loch Nora to his pleasure, long days of solitude interrupted only when his father calls him to his side for some soiree or ball, where Steve is bid to perform as a proper omega should: to dance, to simper, to laugh, to sing—and sometimes, as improper, to be pulled into secluded rooms to be sampled.

It's the reparations to be paid for a thing like him to be born. Steve bears it best he can, knowing he'll return home to be left to his own again. Quiet house, green hills, a loneliness he is safe in.

Until, of course, his father's pockets grow too shallow. And it is time for Steve to perform once more.

Except this time, there's a new face in Harrington House.

"Stephen," his father calls, all false pleasantry and cheer. "I'd like you to come meet young Mister Munson. He is our new neighbor, he and his uncle are staying up at the Thompson estate for the summer."

"I see," Steve says, trying to gather his thoughts between the wool gathering in his head. No one has visited their home since Steve's presentation. "I... I'm very glad to meet your acquaintance, Mister Munson."

Mister Munson, with his round face and large eyes, seems to struggle just as much as Steve does. "J-Just Eddie—I mean, Edward is fine," he says, stumbling over his words. He has a thick accent, and the air of a man learning to speak with the same pomp and confidence as Steve's father. "A pleasure to meet you, as well."

"I thought you might like to show Mister Edward the garden," his father says. He looks at Steve with cold calculation, and Steve feels himself being weighed and priced where he stands.

"Of course," Steve says, dipping his head.

Though Mister Edward doesn't offer his arm, Steve still takes it, hooking their elbows together as Mister Edward fumbles himself into a more proper position. Steve does it smoothly though, and gently pulls Mister Edward out into the sunlight.

He can't help but notice that the two relax minutely once they're out from his father's direct eye. Mister Edward does stay overly stiff though, as Steve leads them along the overgrown garden path, and when he looks up, Steve has to smother a smile to find Mister Edward's face pink across his nose and cheeks, all the way to his ears.

"You must forgive us, Mister Edward," Steve says, his voice soft and intimate. "The two of us are unused to visitors this far into the country."

"Nothing to forgive. If anything, please forgive me," he says, unsure and awkward. "I don't— Is it proper for me to be alone with you?"

Steve truly must fight the smile from his face. "Shall be frank with you, Mister Edward?"

"God, please," Edward breathes, a man out of his depth. "I'm not used to the ways you rich folk talk about nothing but actually say a whole lot."

Laughing, Steve jostles the two of them a little, glad he's gotten Mister Edward to relax enough to speak plainly. "Don't worry, I will translate for you, best I can," he says. Probably a little foolishly. Steve's having his first conversation with the man and already hoping to hang on his arm long enough have more.

Yet, it's worth it, because Edward turns to him with a smile on his face like Steve's handed him a Christmas miracle. "Will you, now?" he asks, a giddy grin crawling his face. "Well tell it to me, pretty thing, why in the world did your fancy father invite a ruffian like me here to meet someone as sweet as you?"

Steve feels himself pinken. Alphas of all types have said many a crude thing to him, but this earnest flirting easily turns Steve's head. What a foolish omega he is.

"I'm sure my father means for us to court and marry."

"My god! Are you sure? Is he mad?" Mister Edward gapes at him. "A proper noble like you married to me?"

Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. Proper. How silly!

"A proper noble like me is still an omega, and a man at that. I'm not a suitable pick to bear heirs," Steve tells him. "He's after your money."

"What money?" Edward laughs. Like his strings have been cut, Edward relaxes against him, his gait a swaying thing, pulling Steve along as they bump together along their ill-given journey. "I don't have a cent to me! It's all my uncle's, you know. He never married, and then my mother wrote him when I came of age and shipped me off to be his heir for a sack of coins. I grew up in London, working in factories."

He lifts his right hand to Steve, showing where two of his fingers are part missing at the first knuckle.

"I was born a roughneck, Stevie," he says, not looking at Steve anymore. Steve should scold him for being so familiar, but instead he finds he likes it. "Born poor and starving. My uncle can dress me up and give me all kinds of lessons, but I'll always be what I was born."

"Well," Steve says, shocked to find himself a little breathless. He watches Edward's profile for a moment longer, watching the unease settling on that handsome brow, twist in his mouth. "It seems we match rather well then, don't you think?"

Edward—Eddie turns to him with wide eyes. "Are you mad?" he asks. As he speaks, he leans in close, until their breaths share air. "Don't you want a good, proper alpha of good stock? Keep you nice and comfy up in some castle?"

"Not particularly," Steve tells him, truthfully. "My father would want nothing more than to marry me off to a high born alpha, to keep a house and have children, and to bring the Harrington name some sort of recognition once again."

Steve turns then, looking down the path and away from Eddie's eyes, so focused on Steve and his words. No one has listen to Steve speak with such attention before.

"I'd much rather marry for love," he admits on a quiet breath. Beside him, Eddie was a line of heat and weight, pressed against him, his gaze burning. "Or, if I can't have love, then at least for friendship. I'd rather not be alone anymore."

"I see," Eddie says.

Turning back to him, Steve gets caught once again in those intense eyes, dark and warm. He has to remind himself, again, that he's just met this alpha, that it's silly to entertain thoughts of love and companionship with a man he's only spoken to this once. Even if Eddie looks at Steve like he could look at him for the rest of his life.

"Well," Eddie says, turning back towards their destination, but letting his hand travel down Steve's arm, until he can link their fingers together. "I suppose we are quite a match, after all then."

Steve can't stop the smile that curves his lips this time, turns his head to try and hide it. "Yes," he agrees, "I suppose, we are."

#stranger things #steddie #my fic #catch me shoving a ton of backstory into 1.2k words hahaha #revisiting my austen and bronte roots #my steddies

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niki-phoria · 1 year ago

Note

hello hru, I would like to request a fic where the reader (preferably male but you can do it as gn ) pranks enha members like those tiktok pranks anything could work but if you want an example it could where they get woken up by their so telling them to hide there bf is coming they have to hude or calling them a different name idk anything you like honestly 💗 have a nice dayyy or night!!!!

⋆｡°✩ enha reaction - their s/o pranking them

includes: established relationship, reader sits on sunghoon's lap, written with male reader in mind

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i hope you like it :)) and i hope your day/night is good too <33

likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are always appreciated <33

gn reader (no pronouns used)

⋆｡°✩ heeseung - refusing his kisses

(word count 202)

“hee,” you murmur, shifting slightly to glance over at him. “will you make some ramyeon for lunch, please?”

“okay,” he nods. he leans in to press a kiss against your cheek, only to be met with air. “hey,” heeseung whines. your lips quirk into a mischievous smile as you dodge his lips once again; this time ducking behind the couch and successfully escaping his hold. “y/n.”

“catch me if you can,” you taunt.

heeseung rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. your socks glide against your hardwood floors as you slide past him once again. you stand in front of heeseung on opposite sides of the couch ready to bolt at any moment like a feral animal.

“you know i’m gonna catch you eventually,” he smirks.

“are you?” you quip. heeseung’s hand ghosting against your arm spurs you into running faster until you’ve circled around your entire apartment. a laugh escapes you when heeseung catches your waist, pulling you down to the couch with him once again. his body hovers on top of yours as he leans down, finally catching your lips against his in a sweet kiss. he pulls away far too soon, smiling down at you. “i win,” he whispers.

⋆｡°✩ jay - not saying "i love you" back

(word count 208)

you rub the lingering tiredness from your eyes as you stumble your way into the kitchen. the sweet smell of freshly made pancakes and eggs welcomes you. you lean back against the wall, softly smiling at the sight of jay standing in your kitchen.

his hair is slightly disheveled from sleep. a thin pair of glasses perfectly frames his face. “morning jay,” you smile as you walk over to greet him.

“good morning love,” he smiles. “i love you,” jay murmurs. he raises an eyebrow when you simply hum in response. “i love you,” he repeats.

“i know.”

jay wraps his arms around your waist, effectively trapping you between his chest and the counter. his hand slips underneath the thin fabric of your t-shirt so it rests against your bare skin. goosebumps raise along your skin with each touch.

jay leans in so close that his breath just barely ghosts against your lips. his lips curl into a smirk at your flustered state. he finally leans in to pull you into a sweet kiss - molding your bodies together in a familiar dance.

you’re nearly panting by the time he pulls away, still smirking down at you. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too, jay,” you smile.

⋆｡°✩ jake - wiping his kisses away

(word count 204)

“i love you,” jake sings.

he leans in to softly press a kiss against your cheek. you raise a hand to your face before swiping your knuckles against the same patch of skin. his jaw drops in disbelief before he leans in, pressing another peck against your skin - this time landing just above your cheekbone. you ignore him as you wipe it off once again in favour of continuing to scroll through your phone.

“y/n,” jake whines. he wraps his arms around your shoulders before shifting to sit in your lap. his knees press against either side of your hips; his face mere centimeters away from your own.

your phone falls forgotten to the ground as your own arms awkwardly wrap around his waist. jake smirks at how flustered you are. a soft gasp escapes your lips as he pushes you down against the soft carpet on your floor.

jake leans in to pull you into a quick peck. as soon as his lips leave yours, he presses another against your cheek; then nose; then forehead; then neck.

“jake!” you laugh at the ticklish feeling, squirming underneath him. “okay, i’m sorry!”

he smiles as he presses a final peck against yours once again.

⋆｡°✩ sunghoon - calling him by his full name

(word count 202)

“sunghoon.”

said man freezes as soon as the word leaves your lips. despite having known him for years, it had become a rarity to hear his full name from you - those moments usually reserved for heightened emotions: exasperation after the fatigue of an ongoing argument; despair when you had broken down in his arms after a long day; slight disappointment after getting caught up in his work and skipping one too many meals.

sunghoon stares at you with wide eyes as you approach. you slide into the chair across from him. a few seconds of silence pass before you cock your head at him in confusion. “sunghoon?”

“are you mad at me?” he asks.

“no.” you chuckle, wandering around the table to sit down in his lap. his arm wraps around your waist almost instinctively.

“then why are you calling me sunghoon?” his lips form into a small pout. one of his hands slips underneath your shirt to rub small shapes against your bare skin. “you only call me that when you’re upset.”

you laugh, shaking your head as if to wave off his concerns. “i’m sorry, hoon,” you snicker. “i just wanted to catch your attention.”

“you always have my attention.”

⋆｡°✩ sunoo - not saying "i love you" back

(word count 203)

sunoo’s head rests in your lap as you softly rake your fingers through his hair. the dark locks pool around your thighs like a puddle of water. a soft sigh escapes his lips at the pleasurable feeling of your nails massaging his scalp. his eyes slowly begin to flutter shut in content.

“i love you,” sunoo murmurs. you smile down at him when he sleepily nuzzles himself even closer to your touch.

a smirk tugs at the edges of your lips as you remain silent - instead continuing to twist his hair between your fingers. you nearly have to force yourself to stifle the chuckle that threatens to escape your lips when sunoo’s eyes flutter open once again.

he shifts slightly to look up at you through tired eyes. “jagi.”

“hm?”

“i love you,” he repeats.

“i know you do.”

sunoo’s plump lips form a small pout as he shifts to look up at you. he studies you from below as you brush his fringe away from his forehead. you lean down to press a quick kiss against the crown of his head, making a light flush spread across his skin. “jagi,” he whines. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you finally chuckle.

⋆｡°✩ jungwon - refusing his kisses

(word count 206)

moonlight shining in through your open windows welcomes jungwon as he sleepily stumbles into your shared bedroom. your silhouette is just barely visible in the darkness. his steps are careful as he makes his way towards the side of your bed before silently sliding into the spot beside you.

“hi honey,” he sighs. you pull back when he leans in, preventing his attempt at pressing a kiss against your lips.

“hi wonie,” you greet.

he furrows his eyebrows slightly as he repeats the action once again to the same response. “y/n,” jungwon whines. his shoulders fall as he sulks beside you.

you stifle a chuckle at his dejection before finally reaching over to pull him into a sweet kiss. his flushed cheeks feel warm to the touch. you smile against his lips before he pulls away. his lips quirk upwards into a soft smile of his own.

“finally,” he murmurs in satisfaction. you laugh as he dramatically collapses back onto your pillows. jungwon wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you against his chest.

you lean up to press another kiss against his jawline. “i love you.”

jungwon pecks the crown of your head before tucking his chin over your head. “i love you too.”

⋆｡°✩ niki - calling him by his full name

(word count 207)

you bite your lip as your small car passes niki’s character once again, ignoring his complaints. your body tenses as you both grow closer to the finish line; your eyes fixated on the small map in the corner of the screen.

“hey! nishimura riki!” a gasp escapes your lips when niki playfully pushes you; momentarily knocking you off course. the screen lights up with a familiar animation - defeat.

niki collapses into a fit of laughter beside you. your lips quirk into unconscious smile as you reach over to playfully push him.

niki’s chuckles fade out like the end of a movie. you find yourself lost in the darkness of his eyes; still smiling at each other despite the “betrayal.”

“i can’t believe you,” you finally laugh.

“i’m sorry, love.” he reaches up to wrap his arms around your shoulders before tugging you down until you’re just barely hovering above him. your gaze falls down to his plump lips almost instinctively - something niki doesn’t fail to notice.

he shifts even closer to pull you into a sweet kiss. your bodies mold together in a familiar dance before he pulls away, much to your disappointment. “forgive me?” he whispers.

you playfully roll your eyes. “only because you’re so cute.”

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zoozvie · 7 months ago

Text

Imagine: a Dragonborn in The Hobbit

With my poor memory of Tolkien lore, my love for D&D, and just fantasy in general, I've been thinking about a Dragonborn reader going on the adventure to the Lonely Mountain with the dwarven company + 1 Burglar, and sometimes a Wizard.

Please be chill about semantics, I'm so terribly sleep-deprived.

I like to imagine Reader as a Dragonborn can shift and phase through how much of a dragon they look like. Their more human form makes them look odd, something is still strange about them, but most don’t know they’re hiding something unless they are receptive to magical concealment.

Reader is picked up and tagged along with the company shortly before they reach the elven woods, so the dwarves are wary of them because of what has happened to their bloodline involving dragons. Thorin is the least trusting, accusing them and being nitpicky about how they are with the party.

Thranduil is also not pleased with a dragon walking among the dwarves when they get captured in the Mirkwood forest, because of his own history. He can see through their lie to conceal themselves very quickly.

The elves put them on the spot when Thorin and Thranduil are bickering and Thorin is also intrigued by the interrogation.

Their response is more so, “Would you look at yourselves, see how well you get along because you both hate dragons?”

When questioned if they will turn on the dwarves, and the elves then after, because of the temptation of gold in the lonely mountain they reassure that gold is not their fascination, and they have no interest in keeping it.

Everyone gets into it about dragon hordes, and yes they’re dragon-like but not wholly a dragon, and yes they collect things but a massive hoard is too overkill they prefer something more personal.

This forces them to show everyone a sachet hanging from their belt pouch containing smooth and bright-colored stones, sea shells, and things you’d find on the ground. The Dragonborn is very uncomfortable doing this and gets quiet and grumbly, eyes calculating where everyone is around their “hoard”. (While traveling on this adventure, an acorn Bilbo gives them is added to the sachet, to remember him by)

This is only step one of proving to the others that Dragonborns are not entirely dragons, everyone makes their own choices and has their path in life so we should just not assume someone’s entire character based on their birth, right? Hopefully, the Dragonborn can get through to everyone so they'll at least calm down enough to lessen the tension. Or else this will indeed be a long, long journey.

(Bonus points if Reader sings the Misty Mountain song, as an offering to show that they’ll stand by the dwarves)

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lynzishell · 1 month ago

Text

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’m at my desk trying to focus on writing code for our game, but it’s slow going. Distracted by my own thoughts, I find myself staring out the window in front of me more often than not while my fingers rest on the keyboard. Ash sits patient and unbothered on my bed, playing on my Switch while he waits for me to finish.

We’re quieter today than usual, both of us tired and mildly hungover from the night before, but still determined to make some progress today.

I try my best to clear my mind, to focus on the screen in front of me and listen to the music coming from my Lin-Z speaker, quietly singing along and bouncing my leg anxiously to the beat. Every once in a while, Ash chimes in, singing a line or two along with me, and I realize how often I make him put up with my playlist even though he much prefers his own. But I have a specific one that helps me when I work, so he usually doesn’t protest too much.

As I sing the lyrics to Your Silent Face for about the thousandth time in my life, and still never tiring of it, I hear Ash join me in singing the last line, “You’ve caught me at a bad time. So, why don’t you piss off,” and we both chuckle under our breath. Over time it’s become a joke between us, ever since the day he walked up to me at work to invite me out for a drink and caught me singing the line aloud.

I think about that night at the bar often. Sitting in the dark corner, like we were in our own world, nothing in the universe existing but the two of us, talking until the bar closed. I remember how disappointed I was when we were eventually forced to leave, how nervous I was as we stood on the edge of the sidewalk. And I’ll never forget the first time that I kissed him.

I can’t help but wonder where we’d be now if I’d let things continue, if I hadn’t gotten in my head and panicked, if I hadn’t pushed him away. And I want nothing more than to set things right.

As he sits behind me on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about the last time he was there and the words he said to me. I wish I’d handled it differently. I want to take it all back. To tell him he was right. But I don’t know how. Ash is the easiest person in the world to talk to, and yet, every time I think of opening my mouth to say anything I have a deep sense of dread that it will come out all wrong, that I’ll somehow make everything worse by doing so.

“I have a question.” The sound of Ash’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I stop typing, suddenly nervous, though I’m not sure why.

“What’s up?”

“The whole I-don’t-date-people-I-work-with thing, is that for real? Or is it your way of letting me down gently?”

I’m a bit confused by his question. Could he really think I’m not into him and just saying that to spare his feelings? “No, I meant it.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

I get up from my desk and walk over to join him on the bed as I think about how to answer. I hate that I suddenly feel the need to defend an argument that I don’t fully believe, but what else am I supposed to do? Say never mind, I was full of shit? Or actually I’ve changed my mind, let’s forget about it. I can’t do that. So, I give a reason, and secretly hope he makes a solid rebuttal that will give me the opening I need to take it back, “It’s messy,” I say, “Like, if we get in a fight or break up, and still have to work together, it’s just—”

“Messy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...” he stands and walks over to my bookshelf, looking over it like he’s suddenly very interested in my old worn-out copies of Tolkien books. I have a tendency to reread the same books, the same way I listen to the same songs over and over. I suppose I find comfort in the familiar. Maybe even more so than most. I’m tempted to make a comment about it, but I know Ash well enough by now to know that he’s not interested in the books, that he’s thinking carefully about what he wants to say next, so I wait. Eventually, he turns back to me, “So, if we didn’t work together…?”

“Then, it’d be different.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk as he walks over. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of me, his legs between mine. He tilts his head to the side curiously, “Different how? Show me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s pretend for, say, five minutes, that we don’t work together.” He leans forward, bringing his hand up to my cheek, his face mere inches from mine, the spices from the chai tea he drank on his way over still lingering on this breath, and I feel a rush of heat fill my face and neck as if the very nearness of him has set me alight.

“Five minutes?”

“Mhm,” he grins, “Five minutes. What would you do differently?” His eyes take on that playful glimmer that makes my heart race. I know that look. He knows I know that look. And it all goes to my head until all I can think about is pulling him back onto the bed with me.

“Set a timer.”

He smiles as he pulls his phone from his pocket, the warmth of his hand still lingering on my cheek as he slides his thumb over the screen before turning it around to show me it’s set for exactly 05:00. “Starting… now,” he presses the green button and tosses it onto the bed.

I waste no time, reaching for him as soon as the phone leaves his hand, and pulling him with me as I lie back. He falls on top of me with a startled laugh.

I don’t have the luxury of taking things slowly, of savoring each second the way I normally would. Instead, I roll him over and kiss him fiercely. Our legs intertwine, and I hold him as close to me as I can, wishing we’d had time to remove our clothes so I could feel his skin against mine.

Our kisses become deep and passionate, and I start to resent the timer counting down, my awareness of it preventing me from fully giving in to the moment. I’m tempted to reach over and turn it off, but I can’t do that, so instead I move my lips to his jaw, following the path of his birthmark and burying my face in his neck wishing I could pause time through sheer will alone.

And then the timer goes off. A series of loud beeps brings the room back into focus, and we pull away, breathless and laughing.

“Time’s up,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbow.

“Damn. I should’ve gone for an hour.”

“That would’ve been dangerous.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Guess you’ll never know,” I laugh as he pushes me away playfully so he can get to his phone, still beeping behind us.

The sounds of Blue Monday coming from the speaker take the place of the alarm as he shuts it off and slides the phone back into his pocket. “Okay, well,” he looks over at me, “you’ve convinced me.”

Convinced him? I suddenly feel as though I’ve missed something along the way. “Convinced you of what?”

“I’ll put in my notice on Monday.”

Everything inside me halts. My heart, my breath, every cell in my body stopping in their tracks. “You’re not serious.”

He shrugs as though what he’s saying is no big deal, “Why not? It’s just a job. I’ll find another one. Question is, is that enough? Or are you gonna make me wait the two weeks until I’m actually gone?”

My body restarts again, overcorrecting and going into overdrive, panicking at the idea of him leaving, of not seeing him every day. Getting coffee, going for walks, eating lunch, telling stupid inside jokes over IM and hearing him laugh from across the room… all of it… ending. “I… I don’t want you to quit.”

“Well, if you won’t let me be both, then I choose boyfriend over co-worker.”

“Wh- boyfriend?” A fresh wave of anxiety pours over me at the word. I mean, I get it, we’re obviously not just friends, I don’t think we ever have been, and we’re clearly incapable of being casual, at least with each other, so boyfriend makes sense, but hearing him say the word only reminds me of how incompetent and inexperienced I am when it comes to real relationships.

“Or am I just a piece of ass?”

“What?! No, of course not, it’s not like that.”

“What’s the problem then?”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. My head spins, scrambling to come up with something... I can’t let him quit his job just to be with me. It’s too much. And I don’t want to not work with him. But I can’t tell him I want him to stay and be with me. Not after all the time I’ve spent insisting he can’t. Even if I could, I have no idea how to be his boyfriend. Not for real. But isn’t this exactly what I wanted?

I have to find a way to talk to him, but the longer I stay silent, the harder it is to find the words as they get crowded out by the growing chaos of conflicting thoughts swirling around my head like an out-of-control Tilt-A-Whirl.

Next to me, I feel his shoulders slump, and I know I’ve let him down… again. “Right.” He says this as if my silence has told him everything he needs to know. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Atlas," he sighs, "I’m tired of the mixed signals. I wish you could just be honest with me. When you're ready to do that, let me know. But I’m not going to wait around much longer. I can’t.”

I reach for him as he gets up to leave, “Ash, wait.”

But he shrugs me off, “Nah,” and continues out the door.

Once he’s gone, I lie down on the bed wondering how the hell I’ve managed to fuck this up yet again.

Maybe it was stupid of me to think I could do things differently.

And, if that’s the case, maybe it’s time I let him go.

As this realization sinks in, I feel my heart start to break, slowly at first, small fissures splintering, then shattering all at once as I stare silently at the floor, my throat tightening as my body tries desperately to remember how to cry, to give some kind of cathartic release for the pain. But, just like me, it fails yet again.

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