#do i need to tag both versions of everyones names or will one version do it??

[retiredgremlin]

✨them✨

[cilahax]

nomnom the content. Tiny tunner tiny tunner Timmy tunner

I'm in love with your art style of sprunki mostly tunner I'm in love

whee thankii!! im in a mood to treat you smthn so here's a warmup drawing of tunner holding his jellybean self hyee!!

itty bitty critter :33

[a-spes]

| DEVIOUS LIES — Part one (3.842 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

“I am really not sure we should do that, Stark”, you repeated for what may be the tenth time since you picked up the phone, “it sounds like a really, really, bad idea, and you know, I am not sure sh~”

“Come on!” he said, cutting short your ramblings.

Your thoughts are racing, your mind imagining all the things that could go wrong. It is an endless series of “what ifs” that is only stopped by Tony’s voice. You both knew that if he lets you think too much, he would lose his battle. It’s a risky plan he wants to drag you in. 

“I am sure you are dying to say yes,” he added when you didn’t answer him, and you could hear his petty smile through the phone. As he sensed that you were about to accept, the man tried to convince you with one last argument, “she won’t know anything, I promise. None of them will, I thought about everything,” he assured you, and you believed him.

He was right, you wanted to say yes, but you couldn’t get yourself to say the word aloud. There are too many ways for it to end badly, and you really don’t need to make your situation worse than it already is. Two years ago, you lost everything. None of your teammates tried to understand your situation, they didn’t give you a chance to explain what happened. Instead, they threw you away from the team, and the tower, without giving it a second thought, as if you were just garbage.

Maybe that’s what you are.

Sometimes, when you think about the events, you surprise yourself by siding with them. It’s easier to think that you deserve what they are doing to you than to accept the injustice of the situation, which you can’t do anything about. After all, the proof was against you. You’ve seen the pictures, everyone has seen them, and they felt so real that your certainties have faltered. How to convince them that you are innocent when you are not even sure yourself? Eventually, you gave in, it is a battle you couldn’t win.

“When is it, already?” you sighed, eventually giving in. An argument against Tony Stark was another battle you knew you couldn’t win.

The man has been the only exception. He has watched over you from afar, and believed your version of the events. For once, he has listened, and it means the world to you. So even if you try to not wince at the enthusiasm he lets out on the other end of the phone, a part of you is happy. It doesn’t matter if things don't go well, at least that would have pleased the billionaire, and you owe it to him, even if you couldn’t match his enthusiasm, too anxious for that.

For a second, you thought about changing your mind. Your fingers were a centimeter away from the interphone, but you haven’t rung the bell yet. It would be so easy to listen to your instinct that is screaming at you to run away. It would be so easy to break the promise you’ve made to Tony, he wouldn’t mind right? Yes, despite the disappointment, he would understand that you couldn’t do that. It was too early and too much. You shouldn’t even have taken that call, it is always a bad idea to trust a billionaire, especially when his last name is Stark.

The last time you’ve set foot in the Avengers Tower, it has been two years ago. You haven’t seen them since, only their pictures in the news. One time, you’ve thought about going to one of those press conferences they hold sometimes, but you knew you wouldn’t be welcome — Maybe they even added your name to the list of bans. You aren’t welcome anywhere near them, they made it clear when they threw you away.

It is as if all the years spent by their side have been erased. Even the world seems to have forgotten your name. It is almost as if you have never been a part of the Avengers, as if you’ve never existed, and it was just something you mind made.

Maybe it’s for the best, you thought.

Yet, here you are. In front of the building you left years ago, promising to yourself that you’ll never come back in here. That day, you felt so humiliated that you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t add the shame to crawl back at their feet, begging for their forgiveness. No, no matter how bad you were craving to throw yourself in their arms, you won’t. Never, ever. Except that, sometimes, circumstances change, and you find yourself unable to refuse your friend’s crazy invitation, despite the dangerousness of his plan.

“Pl- please, ‘tasha, let me ex~,” you were begging the woman. It wasn’t your kind but exceptional situations call for exceptional reactions, and the one you found yourself in certainly was. 

Tears aren’t your style either, nor it’s Natasha’s. Yet, both of your cheeks are stained with them, your eyes reddened. She is angry, and you are frustrated. She is full of hatred, and you are full of despair. But, today, something broke in both your hearts.

“Shut up,” she said firmly, not giving you a chance to explain yourself. She didn’t want to hear a word from your bullshit. None of them want to. “You’ve lost the right to call me that way,” she added, spitting every one of those hate-filled words in your face, “honestly, you’ve even lost the right to talk to me. I don’t want to hear your voice or to see your face ever again. Did I make myself clear?” she yelled. You would have never thought that she could speak to you in such an angry, hateful tone, and yet, here you are.

She has, indeed, made her intentions clear. When you came home, you found your clothes scattered on the pavement in front of the tower. She hasn’t waited for your explanations before deciding to throw all your belongings away. You were quick to follow them, you barely stepped into the building that she was here to drag you out of the building.

You have never seen your loved one in such a state. She isn’t even acknowledging your pleas for her to slow down, or at least to loosen her grip on your arm. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care anymore if you were hurt, or if you were stumbling on your feet — If she had to drag you out by the hair, she would do it without hesitating. 

The Natasha that was scared she could hurt you was long gone. She wasn’t the one that swore to protect you anymore, you’ve seen in her gaze that the promises she made no longer stand. She has a stern, harsh expression painted on her face, and it was your fault. She hadn’t hit you, not yet, but you could still feel how her nails are digging into your skin, leaving a mark that will stay for days. It is a reminder of what you’ve lost that day, not that you could forget.

A second later, you collide with concrete. She throws you on the ground, alongside your belongings, with all the strength she has — And she is a former russian spy, so she’s got plenty. The force of the gesture causes you to stumble over your own feet and fall, scraping your hands and knees in the process. You don’t even try to get up. Dejected, you remain on the ground, barely daring to turn around to see her one last time.

“Don’t you dare to come back, you are not welcome here anymore,” she said before walking away, and disappearing behind the doors of the tower. You wanted to say something but the words didn’t come out, nothing you could say felt right.

It is the last time you’ve seen her, and as pitiful as it is, you have long cherished this last contact with the redhead. No matter how violent and hateful it has been, it was still the last time you’ve touched the love of your life, and you missed it the moment she let go of your arm. Her, and her touch. Despite everything, despite the years, you still needed her presence by your side, and it doesn’t matter if your relationship has to be brutal, you are ready to accept anything if it means being close to her for a few more days.

The rest of the team stayed here until you left. Your eyes met theirs, pleading them to at least say something, but you didn’t get the help you were looking for, their hatred toward you matching Natasha’s. Clint, Steve and Sam, they are all people that you thought were your friends, except they didn’t hesitate a second before siding with the redhead.

Steve has been the first one to leave, almost running after the woman. Before they disappear in the elevator, you’ve caught his hand resting on her shoulder. You should be the one to touch her like that, the one to hold and comfort her, but this right has been taken from you, and maybe you deserve it. You broke the trust she put in you, one that she doesn’t grant easily.

You’ve always known it was a bad idea. In fact, since the moment he suggested that you should come to Natasha’s birthday, you’ve had a bad feeling about it. He thought that it would help you, knowing that you had been living in isolation since you’ve left the team, and a part of you believed him. The same part that never stopped hoping that things could go back to the way they were. 

Until today.

If there is something you’ve learned from that experience, it’s that things will never be as they were because it’s nothing more than a pipe dream. The past two years, you have continuously dreamed about that moment, when you would eventually see her again. You’ve even made up a whole apology speech, one that would erase all your mistakes, and if it’s not enough, then maybe you would have begged them until they forgive you — Promises be damned. In any case, it would have ended with a hug with Natasha, a happy reunion after all those years spent apart. 

Except that none of that happened, because reality isn’t fiction, and you don’t deserve a happy ending. To be fair, you could have never imagined that the reunion would go like this, that you wouldn’t even be able to exchange a word with them because they had no idea that you were here. You couldn’t have imagined that the barriers you have built over the last few years would crumble the moment you set foot in the tower that once was your home.

The tears were streaming down your face, hidden behind that ridiculous mascot costume Tony had forced you to wear. He assured you that it was all part of his plan, the one that’s supposed to make everything better, but honestly, you’ve never felt so ridiculous and pitiful than when you put on that costume that’s supposed to look like a cartoon version of Natasha. That is the genius idea Tony’s came up with a few weeks ago ; having you wear a suit so that you could attend Natasha’s birthday party without anyone knowing.

You thought that you were strong enough to face them, but it turned out that you weren’t. There is nothing that hurts more than realizing you are nothing more than a stranger in your own house. An intruder, that’s exactly what you are. You should enjoy the moment, but you can’t, your heart races, fearing they could guess you’re the one behind the costume.

You were watching them from the corner of the terrace where you found refuge after giving them a little show, and you noticed that all of them, without exception, had a bright smile on their faces. You should be glad that they overcame the difficulties of life, right?

Then why is the only thing you are feeling agonizing jealousy?

Because you were slowly realizing that things changed after you left them, and maybe it was for the best. That’s what you’ve heard them saying in an interview they held a few months after your departure — “Yes, the team has undergone some changements, and we believe it’s for the best” — and maybe they were right, because you don’t remember seeing them being so peaceful in the past. They never clearly said that you’ve been banned from the team, nor they talked publicly about the events that lead to your departure, but people weren’t stupid, they guessed that it was because of something you did.

All days are the same since.

You wake up early, but it’s not the sign of a healthy life, only of a light sleep that is disturbed by the slightest noise and glint of sunlight. The thought of a new day only makes you sigh, what’s the point when every day is the same? They are all filled with loneliness and misery, and you are not sure you have the strength to deal with that, so you don’t move an inch, waiting for the night to come again. 

Sometimes, you get out of the bed you’ve been rotting in, but it’s not before you are so hungry that your whole body is uncontrollably shaking. That's the only time you leave the darkness of your flat, when you go to that small shop at the end of the street to get something to eat. You would buy anything and everything here, but especially junk food that can be eaten quickly. Most of the time, it’s PastaBox or anything with chocolate,  the papers piling up in the kitchen as the days go by, but you’ve never had the heart to take down the overflowing bin.

Waking up, rotting in bed, eating a bit if you are really hungry, going back to rot in your bed, then crying until Morpheus comes to get you, that’s now what your days are.

It’s a strange situation. You have mourned people before, but never someone who’s still alive, never your whole life, never yourself. You are still alive. You know it because you are still breathing and your heart is beating, but it feels like you are not anymore. You don’t even want to cry anymore, you are just laying here, waiting for something to happen, anything. Maybe death. Maybe it’ll eventually come for you, and that moment will be the sweetest. It would be a relief, and not only for yourself.

You don’t want to think about the fact that it may not be. What would be the point in suffering if it’s not to get a threat at the end? The possibility that nothing will come after that life feels unfair, and scary. When you are not finding comfort in your death, you are looking for it by imagining a universe where your life with Natasha wouldn’t have ended that way, where none of that happened.

These are the thoughts that lull you to sleep every night, but the next day, when you wake up, the ache in your heart is back. It never seems to fade away, the pain being as strong as it was on the first day. If anything, it got worse. You are aware that every day that passes takes you further away from those ideals, dashing your hopes of getting your old life back. Your despair grew as you realized that all you were doing was pulling away from the love of your life, and there was nothing you could do to get her back. 

What is going to happen when you’re going to forget about how it feels being close to her?

What if you forget everything? Her voice, smile, and the smell of her clothes? 

The few times you are getting out of your apartment, you are walking with your head down, hiding behind the hood of your sweatshirt, and today isn’t an exception. The weather isn’t that cold, but the collar of your sweatshirt is still up to your chin, leaving only your eyes for the world to see. The ones that are fixed to your feet, avoiding to look around.

You used to do that to avoid paparazzi and insistent fans the days you were too tired to interact with the world, but you are now doing it to avoid problems. Your face and name have been all over the news after, and not for good reasons. People had no idea what had really happened, but their imaginations had no trouble imagining the worst and spreading rumors. It has been years, but the world still hasn't forgiven you for things you’ve never done.

In a few days, the way people see you changed drastically. You went from being one of the country’s greatest heroes to being canceled. The smiles turned into hateful looks, compliments into insults, and although no one has tried to hit you, you prefer to keep a low profile. The fall has been painful, but it isn’t surprising.

How could you expect strangers to believe you when even your oldest friends didn’t?

You have never been their favorite anyway, and you are perfectly aware of that. You are not a former spy, nor are you a genius or an enhanced human. You have nothing special, and the world knows your name only because of your teammates. It’s not a big surprise that they prefer them, and decided to side with the real Avengers.

But maybe they’re right. Maybe things are better that way, because you are not sure you deserve being loved. What you’ve tried to say to ‘tasha is true, you can’t remember what happened that night — At least, not the details that matters —, and that is the worst in your situation. The doubt creeping inside of you, and the guilt mixed with the frustration because you're as likely to be innocent as guilty.

Did you do it?

Did you cheat on her for real?

You are walking as fast as you can, only wanting to get home as quickly as possible, shaking your head in an attempt to get rid of those poisonous thoughts. You didn’t stay long at the party, barely half an hour has elapsed before you decided that you had enough. At least you’ve seen her blowing the candles, even if you left without saying a word to the woman. The thought crossed your mind for a second before you decided it was safer not to break the peace she had built up.

She deserves to be happy, even if it means that you are not a part of her life anymore. 

The only trace of your passage that you have left is a black box. You have hesitated to leave it on the pile of gifts, as she would know it was from you, but it didn’t feel right to keep for yourself the gift you were supposed to give her two years ago. It isn’t yours. You wished you could have stayed longer, just to see her reaction when she opens the box, just to see her smile one last time, to make her smile one last time before saying goodbye forever.

That night, you’ve been crying uncontrollably, and so did you the following days until you have no more tears to shed. Gladly, thanks to Fury, you have a bed to spend your days in. The man has been kind enough to pay for your rent until things get back to normal — That’s the promise he has made to you, that he will quickly find a solution. 

A new place for you to work at, in another country, far from everything you’ve known, where you weren’t hated by everyone: that’s the solution he came up with. “The furthest you are from the Avengers, the better it is. At least for a few months, we need things to calm down,” he told you that day, and you agreed. Not that you had a choice because if you had, maybe you would’ve said no. But there was no choice but to accept to leave everything you’ve ever known behind you — Your family, your friends, your memories. 

Did you for real?

That story is sticking to your skin, and the memories to your mind. Whenever you are going, people are glancing at you, and you are sure it’s because they know. Whenever you are going, all you can see is a glimpse of your past, ghosts that are haunting your present. The world will never forget, nor forgive your mistakes, and you understand them, because you don’t think you can either.

Every morning, when you wake up, it is the first thing you are thinking about. Every night, when you are about to sleep, it is the last one, until it becomes an obsession. Except it didn’t give you your memories back. The opposite has even happened, your mind confusing what you remember with what you've been told, trying to fill the gaps.

At one point, you were so desperate that you almost asked Fury, or Tony, if they didn’t have some technology that could help you to recover your memories. You’ve even thought about asking Wanda, but it was impossible to reach the woman, and maybe it’s for the best. You can’t deny that a part of you is scared of what you might find. You’ve once read that, sometimes, the brain keeps some memories away for a good reason — It is a response to trauma.

But for you, you were sure it was alcohol. You don’t remember how many drinks you had that night, but probably a lot if you can’t remember how the evening ended. The last thing you remember is talking with Astrid, one of your colleagues from SHIELD that invited you for a drink. The next time you remember is when you wake up in that motel. From the moment you opened your eyes, everything happened so fast.

You couldn’t take your eyes out of the pictures which were hung up all over the offices, you even kept some of those. But they are the worst. The thing you can see on those, the two of you in that stupid bed, her kissing your throat, and even more, it feels so foreign. Your brain refuses to accept that you are the one in the pictures. Yet, it's undeniable proof of what you've done that night. 

You are so lost that it hurts your brain. 

Sometimes, you wish that someone was here. Anyone that would take your hand, and guide you through this story. Most of the time, you imagine that it’s her, Natasha. That she is here, holding you in her arms, whispering in your ears that everything is going to be okay, exactly as she used to do. 

Then, you realize that she is not here, and everything crumbles again. 

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

| Taglist — @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0

[cheapshrimpysheep]

But... We Lost...

SUMMARY: After many games, you went to see another NRC basketball game. And this was very important. The finals! Against RSA! You, along with the other students, are there, cheering them on. But... the villains always lose in the end... They were all so angry and you went to comfort your crush.

CHARACTERS: Basketball Club 🏀 (Ace, Floyd & Jamil)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader, Kiss, Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 560 words per character.

COMMENTS: If you're interested, I've also written a version where the reader is already in a relationship with one of them and appears in the game dressed in cheerleading attire. It was a request.

👉 Cheering for Him

I hope you enjoy 😉

CONTEXT: After many games, you went to see another NRC basketball game. And this was very important. The finals! Against Royal Sword Academy! You, along with the other students, are there, cheering them on. The game was extremely close. Everyone could feel the tension and anxiety in the air. And in the final moment, with our hearts in our hands, and like in any D. movie... the villains lose.

You saw Ace suffering during the game. He wanted to win so badly. After all, it was the final and you were watching. And worse, rooting for him.

As soon as they lost, he turned his back on the audience where you were. And you saw him put his hands on his head and wave his arms in frustration. You see him walk angrily towards the players' entrance/exit. Then you see Jamil stopping him and talking to him. Then the two return to the field. Each shaken in their own way. They already lost, the school couldn't afford a reputation of being bad-losers too.

After the players have retired to the changing rooms, you went outside. You go to a place where you knew the players would pass by.

It was already dark, but you still managed to see him leave alone, without his basketball clothes on and his sports bag hanging over his shoulder. He seems to have seen you from afar too, but then he looked away as if he hadn't seen you and started walking another path, as if he were avoiding you.

You run to him and reach him in a place where the two of you are completely alone. You call his name, he stops

"What?" he says as he turns sharply back to you. “We lost. I know. I don't need your pity, kay?”

You say you don't feel sorry for him. That you're also upset that they lost. That your school lost. But just as you don't feel sorry for them, you don't blame them either. You saw how he and the others were doing their best. How important this game was. And that's why, as his friend, you just want to support him. Maybe even share your frustrations.

“Thanks. But I'm fine. I just want to go to my dorm. Kay?” He tells you. You say that you understand and that if he wanted you could talk tomorrow, or not. just hang out maybe?

He turns and starts walking again, walking away from you. Until he slows down and stops again. He turns around and sees that you didn't go anywhere, that you just stood there. He sighs and walks back to you.

He doesn't say anything, just drops the bag on the floor as he walks over and hugs you. “I'm sorry.” he says in a slightly pouty voice. “I didn't want you to see me lose.” You tell him that it doesn't matter, that you've seen him win so many times. And, mainly, that you've already seen him score and point at you as if he dedicated that to you. And as you showed how happy you were whenever he did that, you heard him mumble something like he was flattered by that.

“Dummy” You hear him murmur. You reply with "You too" and say NRC is going to kick RSA’s butts next time, both with hope and with a little desire for revenge in your voice.

And while you show this slight resentment towards RSA, he pulls away a little and kisses you. Like a thank you for being by my side kiss.

To make matters worse, Floyd had been kicked out of the game earlier. He was getting so frustrated that they were losing the game that he ended up committing several fouls. And as soon as he saw that NRC had lost, he simply left the field.

Jamil sees him leaving and no one having the courage to stop him. Then he seems to look for someone in the audience and you realize he was looking for you when he spots you and starts running towards you. He perches on the bars and asks you to come closer to him.

He asks you to see if you can calm Floyd down, because they still need to do that thing of saying goodbye to the opponents saying it was a good game. They already lost, the school couldn't afford a reputation of being bad-losers too. And he tells you to look for him on the terrace.

You hurriedly leave and go to the terrace. You find Floyd lying on the floor with his hands behind his head, looking up at the dark sky. You walk calmly until your feet are behind his head. He doesn't move. As if you didn't bother him in the slightest.

“Floyd?” you say cautiously “hum... they still need you to finish the game. You know, the... hum... Good Game thing.”

“I don't want to.” he replied in a monotone.

“I know.” You sigh and kneel down next to him. “Is there anything I can do? You just need to say goodbye to the other players and then you can leave.”

“You can stop annoying me.” he gives you one of those serious, scary looks of his before turning around with his back to you.

You remain silent for a moment, thinking carefully about what to say and what words to use. “How about a deal? I'll leave you alone if you go back and close the game.”

“That's not what I want.” He says, still facing away from you.

“Then, what do you want?”

He lifts his torso and sits down “I wanted to win!” he turns back to you, with his scary face, taller than you. “I wish I had stayed until the end of the game. And I wanted you to see me finish RSA off. If I go back down there, I'm going to squeeze them one by one. Is that what you want?”

You explode saying you just want him to get it over with. You just want him to end that game, vent his frustrations as he sees fit later, and preferably with people other than RSA students. And that you just want to be able to know how to help him. Sometimes it's frustrating just wanting to help him, but having to walk on eggshells to avoid the risk of unintentionally irritating him.

He sees you getting all upset with him in silence and kind of surprised. And that makes him... laugh? And... hug you? “I like seeing you this upset. It's kinda cute.” and then he whispers in your ear: “and hot~” He breaks the hug, and you're all flattered, which makes him laugh again.

“HA HA HA! Well, you did it. I'm back in the good mood. I will end this game. But I want to see you later, do you hear?” He kisses you. And before getting up he says, with your faces very close to each other, and a big smirk on his face: "You better be waiting for me when I get out, Koebi-chan~”

Jamil is not the type to show his feelings a lot. Especially in these situations, he will hide them perfectly. Then you see him acting like everything is fine. You see him calming down some of his teammates like Ace and Floyd and ending the game with good terms with RSA.

Or at least that's what it appears. Keeping his feelings to himself the way he does, especially these kinds of feelings, is not good for him. That's why you are a little worried.

You wait for him at the exit. It's already night, but you see him leaving alone. He has his hood on, but you'd recognize him no matter what. You run to him and call him. He looks up at you, almost surprised.

“Hi, (Y/N).” he had that light, polite smile he wears regularly. “I hope I didn't disappoint you too much with our defeat. I'm sorry.”

You say you're not disappointed. Of course you're upset that they lost, but not because of them. It happens. But, knowing Jamil, he's probably more upset than you. So you ask him to go with you to a more secluded place. You say you know he's upset and he's just hiding it like he always does. And remembering that Kalim will most likely talk to him about the game when he returns to Scarabia, perhaps it would be better to release his frustrations now.

He remains silent for a moment, as if trying to find a way to say that everything was okay. But you're right. And he trusts you. So, little by little, he explodes.

He starts by saying that of course he is upset, they lost, and worse, against RSA. Then he starts to compare the training they had, how tough they were, compared to what he knew the RSA training was like, as if they were training for a children's game and still won. But the worst of all was when he had to say goodbye to them and the RSA team captain said that "he was glad everyone had fun. After all, the important thing is not winning, but team spirit and bla bla bla..." Do you have any idea how difficult it was to calm down the other NRC players? Make sure Floyd didn't break anyone's bones? Jamil almost punched the wall while venting.

You didn't interfere while he vented, you just listened to him. When he finishes and begins to calm down by taking deep breaths, you speak again. You say that you are also upset, that you really wanted them to win because you saw them playing and they deserved to win. You are frustrated along with them. And then you ask if Jamil feels a little better.

He takes a deep breath "Yes. I'm sorry you saw this, but you were the one who asked." His back was to you. And you say you don't regret it. You never regret it when he's real with you, even if it's showing how frustrated he is.

He turns to you. “Well, in that case, you don't deserve to only see my true side when I'm angry.” There was a smirk on his lips, but his eyes were more tender. He gets closer to you and gently holds you by the waist. He kisses your cheek. “Thank you, I needed that.” And if you allow it, he will kiss your lips afterwards.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

It all started on a Sunday. 

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed. 

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised. 

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar. 

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite. 

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned” 

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed. 

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.  

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you. 

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty. 

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.” 

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you. 

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty. 

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself. 

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures. 

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away. 

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work. 

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank. 

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now” 

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach. 

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment. 

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you. 

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him. 

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion. 

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins. 

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you. 

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain. 

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free. 

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.” 

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed. 

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?” 

“Just…me” 

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?” 

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy. 

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance,  just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act. 

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you. 

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a  violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death. 

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck” 

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded. 

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway. 

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath. 

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

[maryleclerc]

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 — charles leclerc

pairing: prince!charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which prince charles and princess y/n of monte carlo announce their pregnancy of their first royal baby

vote for the royal baby name here ❤️

warning: english is not my native language and i did use google translation also i did not know much about the royal rule so please don’t take it serious, i’ll be grateful if you leave comment to let me know about my writing if i needed to fix anything

read previous part: 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 > 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

charles_leclerc with y/n_leclerc

Liked by y/n_leclerc, lorenzotl and 174,730,461 others

charles_leclerc We are really happy to announce that we are expecting our first child. Y/n and i decided to not appear in any public event until the birth of our child for safety of my wife and baby. And we also receive lots and lots of congrat and with all the best wishes for both of us and baby

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y/n_leclerc ❤️❤️

sofiagraace Love you both

heismydreamman She will join the Christmas Night ceremony with the royal and we’ll see her bump show

princessy/nmyheart Am i the only one here thinks she’s going to name her child Anne?

jessicalauree So freaking adorable!!!!

y/n_leclerc

Liked by charles_leclerc and others

y/n_leclerc Throwback to our wedding day and honeymoon ❤️ @charles_leclerc

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theroyalnews

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theroyalnews

The Prince and Princess of Monte Carlo first public appearence since the announcement of Princess Y/n pregnancy. Princess Y/n appeared in public today with a long, flowing black velvet dress to hide her pregnant belly, it seems that Prince Charles has become a protective husband to his pregnant wife when he repeatedly refused to stand for too long at today's ceremony. Towards the end of the session, we had a chance to ask a few questions with Prince Charles and Princess Y/n.

"Prince Charles, how do you feel about today's ceremony?" “Well I feel very happy and excited at the ceremony today, it is a very important ceremony for my mother Queen Pascale” Prince Charles said, and I ask Princess Y/n “And Princess Y/n, how do you feel?” She answered “Since I'm pregnant right now, it's natural to feel tired but this is only a side effect and the main part is that we can enjoy this happy time together with the Royal Family”, “I have Just a few short questions, can the Prince and Princess answer a few questions for me?" “Of course” They both replied at the same time. “First question, surely you also know that the announcement of the pregnancy has shaken all the people with joy, right? So a few people emailed us asking us to ask you about the baby's gender was? Is this information that is allowed to be revealed?” Prince Charles nodded his head and answered my question “I know this is information that everyone is curious about, although we are the Prince and Princess of Monte Carlo, we must always adhere to the principles given by the royal family", Princess Y/n replied, "But of course we'll let everyone know as soon as we have the baby." She laughed, then I continued to ask the last question "Then Prince Charles and Princess Y/n have come up with any name for the royal baby yet?”, Princess Y/n replied, “Charles and I haven't come up with any name yet but we plan to name the baby with our traditional royal name", "Because she likes traditional names, I like more modern names, but I love her and the baby so the name will be decided by her" Charles said then both of them laughed.

What do think the Prince and Princess will name their baby? Leave us a comment about what you are thinking!

tag charles leclerc , y/n_leclerc

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diwkjd_ I guess they will name it Charlotte or Carlotta, easily Charlotte is a tradition name and its also Charlotte is female version of the name Charles… isn’t it cute

unclejamees I don’t know what they’ll name him/her but i just love the fact Princess Y/n chose to name their baby with royal tradition name

penelopejanes It’s definitly gonna be named Charlotte

⤷ jaada How are you so sure?

⤷ penelopejanes Idk, just so easy to guess, i mean Charlotte also royal tradition name tho

beaniw I got the opportunity today to talk with Prince Charles and Princess Y/n and they’re super nice and Charles is super protective of his wife lately

[trans-rite]

How to join the Transgender Ancestor Rite: an FAQ on our updated format

What is it?

an annual, non-denominational ritual honoring transgender individuals who have passed on

an act of solidarity with the lineage of transgender ancestors who have come before us and paved the way, as well as with the descendants who will come after us when we are gone

a chance to share tenderness and kindness with the restless spirits of transgender people who lost their lives to violence

an opportunity for living transgender folks, including those who have lost trans loved ones, to grieve, mourn, and pray

a labor of love from a multiracial group of trans spirit workers, each at various stages of study in ancestor veneration practices, who have been putting on this ritual since 2014

When is it?

the ritual should take place on or around the Trans Day of Remembrance on November 20th, preferably within a week

most of us do it at night but any time of day is fine

if you need to do it a little before or after the 20th, don't sweat it

Where is it?

wherever you are!

groups are welcome to host local events and inform us about them, but the ritual itself takes place in a location of your own choosing, usually at home

if you have access to a local TDOR event that could incorporate some or all of this ritual, you are welcome to bring it there

most of the organizers have historically been located in the northeastern US but you don’t have to be

Who is it for?

it honors everyone from this year’s Trans Day of Remembrance official list, as well as any other deaths of trans individuals from the year that participants wish to include

illness losses, violent deaths, suicides, and natural deaths are all eligible for inclusion

it includes, cumulatively, all transgender deaths from previous years as well, named on the TDOR lists and unnamed, throughout history

it honors and praises the trans ancestors, people who were alive both recently and longer ago, who feel themselves in connection with us, who have received the care and honor we offered through previous years’ rituals, who are bright and well and who can tend the line from the other side

participants can be trans or cisgender, of any or no denomination or faith

Does it cost money?

nope! this is an anticapitalist affair

you can buy incense and offerings if you like, but you don’t need to spend money to participate

Why are y’all doing this?

honestly this could take pages and pages about the importance of this work and of soothing the troubled dead and tending our ancestral line et cetera et cetera ad infinitum but the short version is

we gotta

our ancestors require it and we’re making sure they get it

Okay, how does it work?

during the ritual, you sit or stand at an altar, light a candle, put out a glass of fresh water, and read a prayer

you may also make any other offerings you feel called to do

if so moved, you read the names of the dead from this year's TDOR list and call on our bright and well ancestors to tend to these newly passed souls

all the people participating in all the different places in the world help create a rising raft of energy that is greater than the sum of its parts, delivering the restless dead among our line into the care of our bright and well ancestors, who, in turn, also care for us, the living

Prayers? I thought you said this was non-denominational.

prayers can involve divinity, or they can be kind and soothing words to say to the dead

you can look through our prayers tag to get ideas and inspiration, but feel free to find poems on your own and/or write something yourself as well 

you are welcome to include deity or not, as you prefer

the organizers of this ritual incorporate gods and spirits in our practices but you by no means need to

on the flip side, if you want your gods involved, feel free to do so in whatever respectful manner works for you

What do I need on my altar?

the basics are an altar cloth (white is traditional; a bandana works), a cup to be filled with water, and a new or dedicated candle (white is traditional here also but follow your instincts)

other great offerings include cut flowers, portions of your food and drink (though alcohol is not advised with restless spirits), tobacco, honey, pictures and/or names of the deceased, art, music, dancing, and any gender paraphernalia you think the ancestors might like

do not put pictures of living people on the altar

it can be as simple or ornate as you choose: the important parts are the candle, the cup, and the cloth

Isn’t it sketchy to be working with dead people?

a little bit

it is much less sketchy since our format change in 2022, at which point this ritual shifted from working directly with restless spirits (dicey) to interfacing with them only through our cadre of elevated bright and well ancestors who have already benefited from previous years' rituals

we advise that you cleanse or purify in whatever way you prefer, ideally before and after the working

if you’re in a Western (especially American Christian) culture that views death as The End and discussion of death as taboo, consider reading up on cultures where ancestor veneration is a normal part of everyday life (hint: it’s most of them)

Other questions? Send them in and we’ll answer them, and maybe add them to the list! If you post about the ritual, tag #troe2023 and we will check it out!

Thank you for joining us!

- Mod Alder and team

[eywamygoddesswrites]

— 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽 — (sully family x fem!sully!reader)

pairing: sully family x fem!omatikaya!sully!reader

tags: mourning, getting therapy

warnings: lowercase intended, implied character death, angst

a/n: characters are aged up! this is inspired by that one tiktok audio and then my curiosity got the better of me and turns out, it was a whole youtube series and i was hooked on it. i've been wanting to make a fic based on that audio for a while but didn't know what characters to use. hope you guys enjoy despite it being angst ㅠㅠ

a/n 2: do you want a longer version of this oneshot? look no further because i will be making a short series based on the youtube series called "LUCIDS" and the masterlist can be found here!

word count: 1.1k

+ gif not mine. ctto.

y/n had been keeping herself busy for the past 3 months. she did everything to keep her mind off of everything. weaving baskets and nets like it was a project to give everyone in the clan, fishing for meals that can have her family full for 5 whole months, collecting and discarding every foraged stuff she could get from her endless walks, riding her ilu further and further beyond the reef just to feel something.

being the oldest of the sully kids was tiring but even being a sister wasn't able to make her feel anything. it was much more numbing than it should be. it made her distant from them.

lo'ak couldn't meet y/n in her eyes. it was like if they looked at each other, the walls they both built would crumble the second their gazes meet. it was like strangers being forced to get to know each other after knowing the horrible crimes they both did.

kiri was very concerned for her older sister. y/n exerts her energy beyond her capacity, does dangerous explorations beyond the reef, and sometimes come back with cuts and bruises, and how she would skip meals to finish all the projects she 'needs' to weave. she was overworking herself and in the 3 months y/n was busy, she had fainted countless times eventually norm and max were called when it kept happening.

tuk missed her big sister so much. she missed collecting pearls by the shore and being carried around while exploring the forest. she was scared at how y/n looked now. from once being a bubbly young adult who was curious and eager to learn something new to a drained-out, almost dead-looking na'vi who would kill people if she saw them looking at her weirdly.

if the three were concerned, imagine how her parents feel. it hurt jake and neytiri to see their oldest overwork herself to distract whatever she was feeling. jake knew how it felt like and he wanted to help his daughter badly. but each time he tried to talk to her, y/n would push him away further and further. she even hissed at him to make her point.

neytiri was angry and concerned. why was her daughter pushing her own mother away when all she wanted to do was help? y/n shouldn't push her away because as her mother, neytiri understands her more than y/n knows, or at least that's what she likes to think.

it was like y/n became a stranger that the sully's just allowed to stay in their home.

when y/n was fishing for dinner, her mind had been wandering elsewhere. her eyes stared down at the net she held as dread slowly filled her mind. it was like her sight was enlarging in front of her until she hears a distorted voice call out her name. "y/n."

she pulled away from her trance, eyes widening as her breathing became slightly erratic. y/n breathed in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth before her attention went to ao'nung, or what looked like ao'nung by the shore.

"hey there! just a quick update. tsireya is still swimming with the ikrans, who were gliding through the mountains on their bellies, then they ate an eye of a seaweed. now, the ilus and tulkans are fighting for some reason." ao'nung said, he was far away from y/n but somehow she heard everything clearly.

"oh… wow…" y/n says, clearly not understanding a single thing from what the metkayina had just said.

"how's your existential crisis coming along?" he asked so nonchalantly.

y/n was bewildered to say the least. this was the longest time she had held a conversation for how many months now.

"uh… fine?" she answered back but it sounded more like a question. "good!" ao'nung exclaimed back before turning around to leave when,

"ao'nung!" y/n immediately called for him, who turned back around to look. "can… can dreams also have memories?" that sounded wrong. "i mean, can you still have dreams even when you're dreaming?"

"oh, y/n. what else are memories if not dreams themselves?" ao'nung replies, not making as much sense as the question she asked.

"what–" "alright then, more soon!" ao'nung cuts her off before running off to eywa knows where.

y/n was left once again with her thoughts. she turns back to the net she was holding, only for it to be gone. this confused her and when she turned back to where the shore was, the next thing she knew, she was sitting on a giant rock.

"do you blame yourself?" the same distorted voice that called out her name earlier asked. distress filled her veins as she looked to where she heard the voice.

y/n's eyebrows furrowed. "what?" she asked. she saw herself, an exact copy of herself wearing human clothes that norm and max wear with a pen and paper held in her hands.

"well, it's quite common in this situation for a patient to feel a kind of guilt." her copy said, voice distorting more and more.

y/n's mind was in turmoil. "what situation?" she asked. the same dread she was feeling came into full force. her chest became heavy as it caused her to not breathe well.

her copy had this concerned look but the smallest of a smirk appeared on her lips, the following words leaving the copy's mouth. "the accident."

that's when y/n was transported back to the day neteyam had died.

she was there when he was shot through the chest. she knew the bullet was meant for her but he pushed her away and in turn, the faith of death fell upon him.

while the rest of her family had cried, she didn't. instead, she felt numb and angry. no other emotions filled her body except these two. it had helped her kill some sky people and some avatars when she came back to save kiri with her parents but after that, all y/n felt was numbness.

the heavy routine she placed upon herself became the only thing that made her feel something through the numbness she felt. it wasn't enough but at least it was something.

the same distorted voice came back. "it's very common for people to invent blame or create a causality" then the voice became normal in an abrupt manner, and her surroundings turned to norm's lab where he used his avatar and where they were able to breathe normally. "when in reality, it was completely out of your control." norm's voice was soft as he talked to the young na'vi in front of him, who in turn was staring off through the distance.

the forest where she and neteyam grew up, only for her brother to never come back home.

[delicatebarness]

i think he knows | chapter two

Summary: The reader decides to reach out to a trusted advisor and braves not getting caught.

Warnings: One use of 'Y/N'. One F-Bomb.

Word Count: 1907

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Series’ Spotify Playlist

A/N: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I had free time and wanted to write. I'm loving this story so far and I didn't want to wait another week before showing you all it.

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes

Time blurred after the days that followed the tense cafeteria encounter. Each morning felt like you had been struggling to keep routine, classes, and emotions grounded. You found that you had stopped reading while walking the hallways, hoping you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to see him. His presence continued to linger in your thoughts, a force you could not resist: no matter your efforts. 

After confiding in Wanda and Peter about the situation at one of your study nights, they both expressed their opinions on the matter. Wanda straight-up agreed with Sharon, she explained to you that she had spent a few years now seeing how Steve’s protection has made you miss out on typical high school experiences. She didn’t want this one to be another. Peter on the other hand was worried. He spent at least half an hour going through all the rumors her had heard about Bucky, which sounded like they came straight out of a Tudor history book. He said he could understand Steve’s point of view as he also didn’t want to witness his childhood friend potentially hurt. You were grateful to have their help and honesty. Wanda would continue giving you understanding gazes and silent support. And, Peter, well he’s easily distracted, and once his opinion was out, his laughter and energy began again: A very welcomed distraction. 

But as the days passed, the unanswered questions about Bucky were tugging at your mind, and you became restless and needed answers. One afternoon, you found yourself standing outside the Robotics Lab door. This is a room you barely went into, it was Peter’s thing, you were more in the Chemistry Club’s lab. 

Pushing the door, you were greeted by the school’s smartest math, science, and everything student. He knew everything that could be taught, he also knew everything about everyone. Vision. He looked up from the robot he was tinkering with, with a neutral expression.

“Hey Y/N,” he waved, his voice was smooth and rich, carrying a depth and warmth that captivated any listener. “What can I do for you?” 

Hesitating, you looked around the room to ensure you two were alone. You took a moment to search for the right words and emotions, you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you held. “I need your help, Vis,” you admitted, using the shortened version of his name that everyone knew he preferred over the nickname ‘The Vision’. “I know you know about almost everyone in this school, and, I, well, you know I’m not one to gossip,” Vision stared blankly at you as you rambled on. “I need to know more about Bucky Barnes.”

His expression quickly turned, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t press for details, no, instead, he motioned for you to take a seat on the opposite side of his desk. You rushed to take a seat, as he got back to his robot’s mechanisms. 

“Bucky Barnes has a reputation,” You nodded in agreement, the information you were already aware of. “He’s a complicated figure,” Vision leaned back in his chair as he wrote you a narrative of Bucky’s childhood and early teens. He painted a picture of Bucky, piecing together fragments of rumors and half-truths along the way. He never seemed to take a side with what and if he believed them. Listening to Vision’s words, you began to realize you do have an understanding of the brooding enigma. He was, after all, just a human making mistakes, flawed as the rest of the student body. 

“Thank you so much, Vis,” You exclaimed as you started to set off back into the hallways of Brooklyn High. He might not have told you what was right or wrong, but, you now had an idea of what to expect. Thankfully, he never mentioned any of the rumors Peter had heard about. “Also, Wanda loves red,” You nodded towards the sheet of paper with drawn robot schematics, resting on the desk near them with “For Wanda.” written at the top and a stack of different color paint samples. 

~

With a sigh, you rested your back against the door to the Robotics Lab. It only took a beat before you noticed a group hanging around the lockers down the hallways. Leather. Bucky and his friends. Your mind was fighting itself on what to do next, walking away, or going over to them. Walking the opposite way, they’d never know you were there. Bucky wouldn’t have known. Go over to them, and risk Steve finding out you went against his direct wishes. Not only that, what would you do? Hi, Bucky, how’s your day going? You can’t ask someone like Bucky that. Hi Bucky, sorry my brother pushed you. He’d probably laugh in your face. 

While in your head, you hadn’t realized that your feet had made a decision. You were less than a few more steps away from them. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Natasha Romanoff’s voice snapped you back into reality. You suddenly felt small among the group, who were not only two years older than you but also had reputations that made them intimidating, to say the least. Bucky’s gaze flicked up, his eyes meeting yours once again. His lips turned into a smile, you half expected another smirk. It was there just not as evident as his smile. Was it genuine?

“Wait, has Little Miss Sunshine graced me with her presence?” Bucky teased as he straightened his posture, making himself seem just that tad bit taller. The feeling of his friend's eyes watching your every move felt foreign, normally everyone wouldn’t even glance over at you for more than a few seconds. Whatever confidence you had that made you come over, vanished, leaving you feeling embarrassed with flushed cheeks.

“I, um, I just wanted to,” You began to stutter as you gave another look around at his friends, your palms started sweating so much you feared your textbooks would slip right out of them. A sudden feeling of a cold hand against your cheek guiding your face and eyes slowly back to meet his Bucky’s, made your body flinch for a short moment, your mind was no longer flooded after that second. Everything seemed to calm as he rubbed his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

“Say hi?” He questioned, finishing your sentence for you though you didn’t know why you came over or how your sentence was going to finish. You whispered a quick ‘Hi.’ back at him as if he had commanded you to say it. He chuckled a “Hi Sunshine,” back at you. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlight of his motorbike, you subconsciously bit your lip. It felt like you stood there for hours, him touching you for the first time while staring into each other’s eyes. 

Bucky pushed himself off the locker, leaning in closer to you. “I think you should get going,” His breath sent chills all over your skin, and his thumb never stopped comforting your face. “We don’t need you getting caught now, do we?” You shook your head no slowly as he pulled away from you. Your thoughts couldn’t determine if you were shaking in agreement with him or pleading with him not to let you go. “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll be seeing you around.” He promised as he gestured for you to continue your way down the hallway.

Your grip on your textbooks was tightening with one hand. The other, you reached up to feel your cheek where Bucky’s hand had lingered. You turned, giving a quick look behind you toward where Bucky and his friends were still gathered. Blue eyes locked onto yours while he moistened his lip with a flick of his tongue. He was watching your every move. 

~

Hours passed since your self-inflicted encounter with Bucky Barnes. You could still sense the feeling of his hand on your cheek, it sent waves of excitement and fear through your veins. For the first time in your life, you felt like you related to the sort of fan girls you read about that refuse to wash their hands after their favorite celebrity had grazed it. You also worried that all it took was for him to touch your skin for you to become vulnerable. Should that be what happens? Does Sharon feel like that when Steve holds her hand through the hallways? Or, if Wanda’s heart raced this way the one time Vis accidentally brushed his finger over your hand when reaching for a pen?  

A soft knock on your bedroom door startled you, waking you from your daydreams. “Lost in thought?” Steve asked, his tone was gentle. It mostly was with you. Wordlessly, you nodded at him. “Need to talk about anything?” He asked with genuine worry. 

“Just in my head, school stuff, ya know.” A faint smile appeared as you replied to your brother. Not only did you not want to burden him with your problems, but you most certainly knew you couldn’t with this one.

“I know how that feels, Sis,” His gaze softened, filled with understanding. Of course he did, he was the golden child, and he had a positive reputation to withstand. “It helps me to talk about it, sometimes.” 

His words caused a weighted feeling lift from your shoulders, he was still your brother and most trusted peer, and you knew he’d be somewhat of a support during this trying period. You motioned for him to come in, moving homework and study papers out of the way so he could sit at the bottom of your bed. 

“It’s just, um, I have this feeling that I can't seem to shake,” you confessed with a sigh. “It feels like there’s so many unanswered questions lingering.” You began picking at a loose thread on one of your throw pillows.

Nodding, Steve rested a hand on your shoulder. “Feelings tend to have a way of sticking with us,” His empathetic tone made you question yourself if you were doing the right thing. “It’s okay to not have it figured out, take your time to process them.”

“Do you ever feel like that?” You questioned, grateful that you did have his support and understanding at that moment, you wanted his guidance more.

“All the time,” He smiled at you while confessing. “That’s why I’m so grateful for Sharon. Her presence, helps me stay grounded. It’s like a constant reminder of what’s important.” This was the first time Steve had given you a glimpse into how he truly felt about Sharon. You started to feel a small sense of reassurance wash over you as you listened.

“Thank you, Stevie,” Your gratitude was sincere as you hugged him around the shoulders. You were still surprised that you managed to wrap your arms around them. “For being here.”

Steve returned the hug, “Anytime.” 

With your brother’s words and support, you felt a sense of clarity and strength overcome you. Steve knew what was right, you had to stay away from Bucky. You watched him leave your room, closing the door behind him, you couldn’t have been any more grateful to have a caring, supportive, and protective older brother.

“Thank fuck,” A voice whispered near your open window. While turning towards the sound, a fairly large figure gracefully climbed through. That cigarette and fumes scent which only came from one known source filled your bedroom. “I thought he’d never leave.”

- - - - -

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[in1-nutshell]

"Fearless waves back and starts jogging to catch up with Megatron. They don’t see their crush’s image sigh, flicker and disappear."

you

elaborate

now

Elaborating... now!

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless finds out about their crush...

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Hinted Romance, Angst, Human reader

MTMTE

It had been a couple of days since the ship had left Earth.

A couple of days since Fearless had their ‘date’ (if you want to call it that) with their crush.

Everything was going great.

Well, besides the integration they got about their crush.

There weren’t much the bots could do since it was a human.

Most wished them the best, some offered to hurt the crush if something bad happened (they shut down that idea really quick), others wanted to play wingmech.

And then there was Megatron.

He was a bit awkward about this kind of thing.

This was unknown territory for him.

At Swerve’s… Fearless was typing away on their phone. Whirl drapes half of his frame on the table. Whirl: “Is that you significant annoyance?” Fearless rolls their eyes playfully. Fearless: “No, I’m doing work Whirl.” Whirl huffs. Whirl: “Work? At the bar? Really?” Fearless: “Just some emails I need to send that’s all.” Whirl: “So… what’s going on between you two? You tow gonna be Junxies soon?” Fearless looks at him confused. Several bots around them spat out or coughed at their engex. Fearless: “Junxies? And is everyone okay?” Whirl: “Don’t mind them. When are you going to do the rites? I have a bet going on that it’ll be before Cyclonus and Tailgate do theirs.” Tailgate: “What?” Cyclonus feeling like his frame is on fire: “Ignore them Tailgate.” Fearless: “…Wait are you asking me when I’m going to propose to him?!” More bots spit out their engex. Fearless: “Seriously is there something in the engex again?” Swerve: “You’re gonna propose!?” Fearless with a harsh blush on their cheeks: “NO! No one is proposing or doing the Cybertronian version of it! We aren’t even dating!” Megatron: “What’s dating?” Fearless looks at Whirl, who has a mischievous glint in his optics. Fearless: “Whirl…” Whirl: “Fearless is going to perform the Conjunx Endura rites on that Fleshy we saw on Earth!” Now the remainder of bots spit out their drink. Megatron exe. Has stopped working please try again later.

It took a while to get that rumor under control and a long talk from Megatron about finding the right significant other that made them both feel awkward.

Now Fearless was talking with the Scavenger’s.

Since Fearless had met the rag tag team of Cons they wanted to stay in contact with them as much as possible.

Mainly talking to Krok and any other bot that was around.

Today they were chatting with Krok when they noticed Misfire, Fulcrum and some new bot doing something in the background.

Krok explained he was the newest member of the Scavengers.

His name was Alabaster Lapis.

A bit of a mouthful but it sounded like a nice name.

There was a bit of shouting from the bots.

Something about holoforms.

The new bot happily showed the others the newest additions he was putting on his holoform.

…That looked exactly like Fearless’s crush.

…no… there was no way…

Fearless pulled their phone and dialed their crush.

The new bot answered the call.

It was him.

They quickly put him on mute.

Krok looks at Fearless face of disbelief and seems to connect the dots and optics widened. Krok: “Fearless… I didn’t—” Fearless: “Its fine Krok… I… need a moment to process this. I’m not mad at you or anyone… I… need some time.” Krok nods sympathetically. Krok: “Bye Fearless.” Fearless: “Bye Krok.” The screen turned black. Fearless looked at the ongoing call and unmuted it. Alabaster: “Hey? You still there? I thought I lost you for a second.” Fearless: “…When were you going to tell me you were a bot?” Silence… Alabaster: “A what? Fearless I’m not—” Fearless: "Don’t lie to me! I just saw you pick up the call. You were with Misfire and Fulcrum. I was on a call with Krok when I noticed the holoform… Now, where you going to tell me about this? Or not?” Alabaster: “I… I never meant for this to go so far.” Fearless takes a shaky breath as tears start spilling out. Fearless: “What do you mean by that?” Alabaster: “I… Look, I never thought I’d get entangled like this. I met Thundercracker and he opened my optics to your world. I liked it, a lot really. So, I made a holoform and decided to experiment around on human’s social media.” Fearless gulps as the bot takes a deep intake. Alabaster: “That’s where I met you. And by Primus, I don’t regret meeting you either. If I had the option of doing this all over again I would.” Fearless: “Even the lying?” Alabaster: “I… I thought I would lose you if you found out I was a Cybertronian. Not a lot of humans like us.” Fearless: “I work with Cybertronian’s.” Alabaster: “But it could have been for the pay.” Fearless: “I would not be on a ship with bots I don’t like for some paycheck.” There was silence on both ends. Alabaster: “…What now?” Fearless: “I need some time to process all of… this. I’ll call when I want to talk again.” Alabaster: “I… I understand. Safe travels.” Fearless: “You too.” Call ends.

This was… a lot to process.

There were so many questions and thoughts.

They were angry, sad, frustrated, and hurt.

They go to bed and has a good crying session.

They had a longer than expected session because they completely forgot that they were supposed to meet the group at Swerve’s for Poetry and Trivia night.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Whirl: “Hey Fearless! Get your fleshy behind out here! We’re losing our best shot at free drinks tonight!” Fearless: “Just go Whirl!” Whirl: “Not with the fate of free drink hangs in the –” Fearless: “JUST GO WHIRL!” Fearless breaks into a sob. Fearless: “JUST go…” There is silence… Maybe he left?” SLAM! THUD! Whirl had kicked down the door. Fearless yelped in surprise as the clawed servo picked them up. Whirl was just looking at them. Whirl: “You don’t usually do that. You yell when there’s something crawling around your skin. So, spill it Fearless, what’s wrong?” Fearless couldn’t hold it in anymore and started to sob. Whirl panicked. Whirl: “Scrap! What’s all—” He stopped when he saw Fearless clinging onto his digits like a lifeline. Whirl carefully puts Fearless back on their bed, and he kneels down, never taking his digit from their grasp. Whirl: “I know trivia night gets rough and all but that’s not a reason to get all… like this.” Fearless: “I-it’s not…that.” Whirl’s optic narrowed. Whirl: “Did someone make you like this?” Fearless hesitates but nods. Whirl: “Who’s the sorry son of a glitch I need to pummel? Just give me a name and I’ll do it.” Fearless shakes their head. Fearless: “Just… can you just hold me… please?” Whirl picks Fearless up again and cradles them the best he can while silently thinking of who made them cry like this and how to get away with murder.

Whirl sends a message to Cyclonus that they both were not going to make it to the bar at all.

And to get his swords ready because he was going to use them to cut someone up into little pieces.

Fearless called in sick the next day, raising some alarm with some of the bots they worked with daily.

Whirl looked like he was going to offline the next bot who talked to him and refused to say what happened on Trivia night when he went to go find Fearless.

It was some sort of secret.

But secrets are never kept on the Lost Light…

[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy (Jake seresin x reader) part 10

summary : telling the dagger squad of their engagement getting them to keep it from her dad til she got to tell him well seemed to be hardest thing to do , y/n dealing with the fact jakes gonna be gone for three months wondering what else was being thrown at the couple and why was it answering that question

warning : fluffy and sad but happy ( for once ) , back to goofy and grammatical errors ( soz )

previous part

They were crazy their was no mistake in that , they were crazy for each other and crazy in love .  Right now well they looked somewhat bat shit crazy as they announced to their friends of their engagement two days after jake declaration in the hard deck . yet more the silence persisted the dagger thought it was well crazy and yet it oddly made sense . anyone else it would of been grounds  for a vacation to a padded cell but with jake and y/n  it was something different  , a true sort of loves you would find in the pages of a book or on the big screen . 

“ guess congratulation” roo finally stood hugging the pair once the initial shock wore off that was . 

“ yes finally “ fanboy cheered earning a look from everyone. “Oh shut up we all seen it coming  well before hangman fucked it up” he shrugged eating his lunch. One by one they hugged their friends and thanked them . 

“ one thing all i ask i don’t  want you breathing a word to my dad , we haven’t told him  and plan to tonight ,so keep it shut or accidents will happen” she warned them as they all nodded  slightly in fear as she worked  with their jets and the sides of them . 

Our lips our sealed scouts honour” javy gulped holding his hand up and they all copied. 

She had to give it to them , their lips were in fact sealed  nearly the whole day , that was  til it seemed as though it was sealed with craft glue .  She sat in the communication tower , getting a better view of the dog fight tag that was currently being played . she and jake had it planned out take her dad and penny to dinner  nice even then boom drop it on them  which was slightly just an extended  version of her  plan to hug her dad tell him and run to the car get home before her words even processed but apparently that was childish.  Jake wanted to do it the right way   ,  he had pete mitchell blessing to date her but since the mess he made of things and hurt y/n the captain  wasn’t as friendly as he once was before so everything needed to be perfect.  It was just him and mav left and he was tailing  his future father in law . he was stuck at the cross road there and then he could do what he really wanted and hit mav or he could let the man win keep him in good spirits and seemed like javy decided to not only give up the choice but well not exactly keep his lips sealed. 

“ come on hangman just cause he’s gonna be your father in law doesn’t mean you need to go easy” his voice rang out not over in jakes ear but over the comms meaning everyone could hear him , mav could hear him. 

“ lips sealed my ass” y/n voice called out letting Javy know she heard him too .

Like a blink of an eye Mav was gone as the two looked around wondering how the hell he was able to slip. 

“ well least we both get to die at the hands of a mitchell” Javy winced sensing his best friend also wasn’t impressed. 

“ gotcha , your out hangman” pete finally said . 

Maybe going AWOL wasn’t so bad , new life in a new country with a new name would work and from the look on coyotes face he seemed to be thinking something similar wouldn’t take much to get him to agree .  the two men probably flew the slowest they’ve ever flown , landed or got down the ladder. Playing rock , paper scissors shoot to who would exit first . One thing jake would say he wasn’t never truly a nervous person but this was different , this was important to him , to his girl. He was happy pete mitchell didn’t “ accidentally” shoot him out of the sky . His palms felt sweaty once his boots hit the tarmac fully ready to be reacquainted with the gravel once more. 

“ you serious about her” mav asked not a single emotion to give away . 

“ as a heart attack sir” jake stood painfully straight feeling like he was back in the academy and not in front of his future father in law. 

“ nothing like what happen before is going to happen again is it?” 

“ no sir never again” could feel the sweat forming on his brow under the mans gaze. 

“  guess you we can skip the push up this time i’ll let it slide , welcome to the family son, guess i owe my wife fifty buck” mav shook jake hand although it took the blonde mind to process it all before he started shaking his hand back . 

“ man that was a close call” javy breath out sigh of relief .

“ yet for me  , the look on my fiance’s face tells me you still done for , it was nice knowing you man “ jake clapped his hands on his shoulder kissing her head leaving javy petrified. 

“ get counting” she  glared sending the man to the ground ready to say hello to the gravel jake told him about. 

It was almost a dream how good the weeks were except the looming fact of what was coming . Turns out nat and roo where also pulled  meaning the three of them would be gone for three months .  she was sitting at the table some restaurant staring at her ring waiting for nat to come for lunch  , staring down at the ring jake surprised her with the day of the good duck park .  she almost threw it til he stopped her showed her , which in her defence as cute as it was putting it with the duck feed was probably not the best idea. She wasn’t a stranger to the whole ordeal of deployment , she grew up with it , seeing her dad and his friend men and women she would class as family leaving for periods of time. But it was different this time it was jake being deployed . it was a training exercise and still that didn’t stop the worry because she lost her uncle goose in training . she was so scared of losing anyone in her life , especially considering what they did and now she was afraid that she was going to love the man she loved before their life together even began . 

“ hey sorry i’m .. hey what’s wrong” nat eyes widened snapping y/n back to reality only realising she been crying.

“ you guys are leaving me” she sniffled 

“ and we’ll be back before you know it” nat hugged  her. 

“ what if something happens?” she asked tears falling down her cheeks . 

“ we got this , we will come back in one piece well with how they annoy me it might be missing piece but i’ll bring them back” nat nudged her playfully. 

“ i need to see jake” she stood only to stumble back into nats arms .

“ no i’m going bring you hospital , you ok ?” she lifted her only to see how unsteady she was 

“ i’m fine” was all she got out before everything went black . 

She couldn’t of heard him right  and yet she made the poor doctor repeat it over and over  but it was like it wasn’t sinking in  like her brain didn’t know the words he spoke .  

“ pregnant , you’re sure like how sure” she whispered . 

“ yes i’m sure from the test and  ultrasound you are around eight to ten weeks  , i will give you a prescription for prenatal vitamins the test also suggest you are low in iron which could be why you fainted” he explained gently . 

“ this can’t be happening not now , how…. Actually don’t answer that” she wince as her cheeks grew hot knowing the two weren’t a vigilante with birth control as they should of been . 

“ you need to take it easy as much as you can  , if your unsure you have option  but their not to be taking lightly , you should talk with your spouse or partner and go from there but it is your choice at the end of the day “ he smiled sweetly seeing how scared she was.  “ i’ll give you some time to  collect yourself no rush  once your ready you can go home , would you like me to get your friend “ he asked as she nodded. 

Honestly she forgot nat was even there , she knew jake would be in the air now  but he would of broke the door down if he wasn’t to make sure she was ok .  what if he wanted it and she didn’t or vice versa , why was it happening now right before he was about to leave for three months . 

“ is everything  ok “ nat asked making her shoved the things in her bag. 

“ emotional and anaemic i’ll be fine” she smiled weaking knowing she really did need to talk to jake now. 

Everytime she even tried to bring it up the universe decided to continue it’s now running joke . she found herself looking at the little black and white sonogram looking at the little blob that was now growing in her tummy and she couldn’t picture anything but loving it knowing what she wanted . she sat in the truck watching the crowds gathering to bid their loved ones farewell .

“ it is bad to think i’m glad your here” jake asked making her head tilt. “ nah not like that i just mean before i used to do this alone , get a friend to drop me off  watching families  saying good bye it was night to see but man it was lonely as hell i pretended it was better that way but i was jealous of it more so” . 

“ oh jake “ she sniffled pulling him into a hug . “ i’ll be here to see you off and welcome you home for the rest of my life”she kissed his lip pulling him in closer . 

“ next time i hope to put a different ring on that finger” he winked. 

“ starting to think you got wife or marriage kink” she rolled her eyes playfully. 

“ nah i got a flumpy kink “ he chuckled getting out of the truck coming to her side letting her out only for her to dive into his arms. She wanted to say it there and then  but stopped not wanting to ruin the moment or so she told herself . the two walking to the boardwalk hand in hand , he didn’t let go when she was hugging nat and rooster making them promise to come home . she reached into her bag handing him the sonogram folded over. 

“ wait til your on the ship before you look” she whispered kissing him over like it was the last time she was going to and maybe it was giving what was about to happen , what he was about to find out. “I love you jake seresin” she said trying not to cry although she was failing miserably. 

“ i love you babygirl “ he held her closer til rooster was pulling him away . 

The moment he walked on the ship , he waited like she said coming to the top deck seeing her standing there waving him off and moment he opened the paper   he knew what it was. He’d seen enough of his sisters to know he was holding a sonogram in his hands and it had her name in the corner. “ i’m gonna be a dad ?” he muttered unsure pulling his phone out hitting her contact instantly she picked it up .  “ darling is this what i think it is “ he asked as he heard here sniffles . 

“ it is if you want it to be” she said quiet he hated he was there to comfort her. 

“ shit darling you made me the happiest man” he chuckled.  “ I’M GOING TO BE A DAD , FLUMPY IS HAVING MY BABY” He yelled so loud she could hear him on the dock and the loud round of applause that followed after. 

“ you’re not mad?” she asked shocked. 

“ no of course i ain’t  this best news i could hope for just wish i wasn’t leaving even more now  but least i get to come home to my babies” she almost hear the grin in his voice. “ bradshaw you crying?” she couldn’t help laughed when she heard the usually “ it’s dust” from roo . 

“ look baby the service is going to go soon but i will call you once it back get home and rest  i love you .. i love you both” he said . 

“ we love you too “ she cried then the line went dead she went to the truck crying even more watching the ship get further and further away in the distance. 

Jake stood staring at the sonogram the high of it all fading as the reality started creeping in 

“ holy shit i’m going to be a dad” he looked to his friends panicked. 

part 11

taglist:@harrysgothicbitch @djs8891 @emma8895eb @darksparklesficrecs @sarah-bear706318

[nomoreusername]

The Fandom Versions of TMR Characters

The TMR fandom is amazing. It has a significant number of great people. It has some very talented editors and writers.

However, like every fandom with a good following, it has its issues. One of its worst ones is honestly one of the most obnoxious things one can have in my opinion.

It has awful mischaracterization. It's less of completely changing a character's personality and more of going off one trait and making that all that they are.

It feels like Thomas gets portrayed as an idiot who only asks questions or doesn't ever listen to anyone. He also gets called overrated even though he's the main character of the series.

We first get introduced to him when he's a Greenie with no memory (except for his name in the books). Of course he’s going to want to know what is happening to him. The Glader's start out revealing very little to not intimidate the Greenie's which has to be frustrating. While it is clear he wants to figure almost everything out throughout the series, that's a very human trait. He’s also definitely not stupid. WCKD/WICKED picked him to work with them because they saw something in him. He is incredibly intelligent and quick on his feet. A lot of the time, he’s given no notice to make a decision. He just has to make it. Whether it's running into the Maze to save Minho and Alby, having to decide whether or not to go through with Newt’s note, or going back to the place that started all the pain and torture, he wasn't truly given time to prepare for such important and life-changing decisions. Despite this, he always did his best to make them.

Newt probably has the worst fanbase. I love him as a character. He’s been through so much and is still doing his best to keep everyone in line and afloat which is extremely admirable.

The problem is that people water his character down. They’ll treat him as though he isn't a Second-in-command, the second longest surviving Glader, a suicide survivor, and resilient to the most dangerous situations.

Newt is not someone who would need protection. If anything, he was a protector. He would have to do things such as banish Gladers (his friends), to protect the other ones. He was a Runner before he got a limp. He stood up to Thomas in the movies when he thought he was just being paranoid, showing that even though he does love his friends, he isn't afraid to confront them if he thinks they are wrong. The way he still remains loyal to the people he loves when he does though, is another trait that deserves more acknowledgement. He went out of his way in the movies to hide that he was slowly dying in front of everyone’s eyes and losing his mind just for Minho. He never expected to make it but didn't care. In the books, he lied to his friends about being taken to protect them from himself. He’s so strong, self aware and beautifully written.

Minho is sarcastic and does have witty comebacks. However, he’s so much more than that.

He was the Keeper of the Runners. For around three years he was not only doing the most deadly job, but training others to do it as well. He wasn't allowed to have fear or be weak in the Maze. Not when the cost would have been his life. Something more complex about him is the way he covers up his actual emotions. During Chuck's death in the movies everyone else is allowing their tears to fall. However, he closed his eyes so he wouldn't cry. Whether it's because he doesn't want to cry in front of people or just doesn't want to cry is uncertain, but both are painful to think about. Another thing about him is very subtle character development. When he first gets caught in the Maze, not only does he give up at first, he at one point leaves Thomas and Alby behind, showing his intense desperation to live despite him wanting to stay realistic. In the last two movies we don't see any other instances of him being willing to accept defeat or leaving others behind. While he may have been given the tag ‘the leader' it isn't something that could ever or should ever be denied about him.

His bond with Newt is also something that honestly deserves more recognition. From the way he dropped to his knees in the movies to how Thomas didn't tell him how he really died due to how much the two cared for each other, they are nothing less than platonic soulmates.

Gally gets a lot of hate. He’s seen as angry and ‘that character who killed Chuck’. In a lot of ways though, I think he's one of the most logical, relatable, and realistic characters.

While some people think he just randomly hated Thomas and Teresa, that's not at all true. In the movies, he seems civilized with him when they first meet. While his action of shoving him before he could go into the Maze may have seemed performative, the fear was most likely needed for Thomas to grasp the gravity of the situation. He can also be seen shaking hands with Thomas in Greenie night after the fight. In the books, he went through the changing. He was stung so he got some of his memories back the way Alby did. He told Thomas that he recognized him from those which was why he was suspicious towards him. His concerns were valid. Everything did change after Thomas and Teresa, and a lot of Gladers ended up dead. At one point, they had both worked for WICKED/WCKD. Something was up with them, the exact way he said there was. If someone came to my home and changed everything I knew I wouldn't trust them either. He cared for the Gladers and wanted the people he lived with for years to stay safe and be alive. He didn't want to just kill Teresa and Thomas. He wanted things to go back to how they were in a sense. He was afraid of leaving his home. He was afraid of change, the way so many people are.

He didn't kill Chuck. He would never hurt Chuck. In the books, WICKED had both him and Chuck under their control. In the movies, he was stung, meaning his actions did not belong to him. Even then, he was not aiming for the sweet kid. He was aiming for Thomas, who in his mind at the time, was one of the ones who had started him and his friends years of pain and suffering.

Movie Aris is my favorite. He is very sweet but the way people will describe him as innocent is wrong.

I do consider him and book Aris two different characters. So for now, this is strictly about him in the movies.

He’s seen alone when we first meet him. His friends are gone, and people are talking about him like a circus animal so it makes sense why he wouldn't want to be around anyone. He’s generally quieter than a lot of the main characters so he can get mistaken for just a background character. However, he literally got everyone out of WCKD. He never got any recognition for saving them, but he still did. When he does open his side of the door for everyone to get out there is at least one unconscious, previously armed guard on the ground, with his weapon now being held in his hand. This shows that he is capable of taking care of himself despite his at first glance passive demeanor. He knows to break the control pad to buy everyone time and books it. What must be less than an hour later, he’s helping take down Cranks with a single bat, also showing quick thinking from the way he knows to trip them so they could focus on getting away. Not to mention, he’s doing all of this after finding out his friend (and possible lover) is going to die. On a lighter note, we see his face light up and how much he talks with Sonya and Harriet when they all meet again, showing that he's not afraid of speaking to others. He just has a few and specific group of people he feels comfortable actually talking with, which is literally just being an introvert.

All of those are why he is not innocent or in need of saving. He knows how to look after himself and others.

That's just the basics of The Maze Runner fandom's mischaracterization problem.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Misery Loves Company

A/N – Okay, so for anyone who loves Stand-up comedy as much as I do, I highly recommend you watch Daniel Sloss’ tour, Dark. That’s his first tour, and it was where he coined the term Wanker-Anchor, which is used in this story.

Warnings – None.

Rating – M

TAG-LIST: @lxkeee @moonieper @sle3pyh3ad2 @gomib0 @mixplara @ica1 @loser-monologue @blackbeautyiloveyouso @equkki @literalzxmbie

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

“Whoa,” Charlie said upon seeing you.

She had seen your Demonic form before, but it was a rarity and it usually meant that you weren’t doing well mentally.

“Are you okay?” She asked, sucking in air through her teeth, her voice pitching high, indicating that she already knew the answer but didn’t want to point out the obvious in case it upset you further.

“I’m fine,” You answered shortly.

“Really? Because you uh, well,” Charlie twisted her hands back and forth, “You uh, you look a little- I mean, hey, I think you’re beautiful inside and out but when you’re like this it usually means- It’s normally-”

“You’re fucked up,” Vaggie finished for her, getting straight to the point.

“I’m fine,” You insisted, using the words everyone used when they were decidedly not fine. “Where’s Angel Dust?”

“In his room,” Vaggie explained.

“What happened? He was doing so well.”

Charlie’s eyes welled up with tears and she threw her arms around you, sobbing out an explanation, “It was my fault. I asked him about his contract, and he told me not to worry, but I did worry, and then I wanted to make sure he’d be okay when me and Vaggie go to visit Heaven, but he said he didn’t need a babysitter, and then I got Husk involved and Husk told me not to fuck with things I don’t understand, and then Valentino came-”

“Wait, Valentino came here?!” You pulled Charlie off you so you could look her in the eyes.

“Well, not exactly, but he sent his crew here and told Angel they had to film and I said no, and-”

You left Charlie and ran to Angel’s room. Both Charlie and Vaggie followed you as you pelted through the corridors. No wonder Angel had relapsed. That piece of shit Valentino had used Angel’s contract against him. As part of the deal they had made, Angel had to do any work Valentino demanded of him, and that fucking scumbag had dared to invade the one place where Angel felt safe.

Knowing Charlie, she would have pointed out that Valentino couldn’t use her property and would have to wait for Angel at the studio, but that wouldn’t matter. Valentino would play by the rules; it wasn’t really about filming at the Hotel, it was all a matter of proving that Angel belonged to him and that there was no safe place he could hide away.

Besides, even if Valentino hadn’t gotten his way at the Hotel, he would take it out on Angel the next time he was in the studio. It was a lose-lose situation, something that Hell was always too eager to provide.

When you got to Angel’s room, you paused to compose yourself. It wouldn’t help if you sounded too desperate or concerned; Angel didn’t respond well to that. It would make him blame himself for making you worry, and then he would spiral further.

You knocked on the door, “Hey Angel, it’s us. Can we come in please?”

“Go away,” Angel’s heavy accent came through the door, marking him more as Anthony than Angel Dust, though you didn’t say anything about that; there were very few people who knew his real name, and he didn’t like to be reminded of it.

For better or worse, he was Angel Dust; that was who he needed to be to survive.

You glanced at Charlie and Vaggie, then tilted your head, indicating that they should leave. Charlie hesitated until Vaggie placed a hand on her shoulder, then after an affirming nod from you, she let Vaggie lead her away.

“Come on Angel,” You said when they were gone. “It’s just me. Let me in.”

“Piss off.”

You sighed, then sat outside the door, and began talking. You didn’t have a grand speech planned, only what was on your mind, and if Angel wasn’t going to let you in, then it became a matter of letting him know that he wasn’t alone and that you wouldn’t abandon him, though you would respect his space.

“I get it. Valentino fucked with you. He love-bombed you, and that didn’t fucking work because you’re stronger than he is and you’re not going to fall for his shitty manipulation tactics. Now, he’s sending his goons here. It’s all just another one of his games, Angel. Don’t let him win.”

There was no response. You stayed quiet for a minute then were struck with a thought; misery loves company.

“Hey, I also kind of feel like shit today, you know? I kept thinking about Hell and… a lot of things. I told Charlie’s dad how I died. That was fucked up.”

Again, there was no response, but you thought you heard Angel shuffle closer to the door. Until that evening, nobody had heard anything about your mortal life, and now you were talking about it for the second time.

“I was murdered for a snuff film. I still have nightmares about it.”

There was a bluntness to your tone. Although it hurt to state the memory aloud again, albeit in less detail, you decided not to put too much thought into it. If your death could help someone, well, there had to be some good in bringing it up.

You stared at the peeling red wallpaper across from you, just so you had something to focus on. “I’m terrified that one day, I’m gonna walk down the street and see the guys that killed me. Like, what do you even do in that situation? Call them out? They’re in Hell, that’s punishment enough, right? Will they find it funny to see me again? Find new ways to hurt me?”

I honestly don’t know what I want in this scenario. I don’t want them to die, ‘cos then they’ll be here, but if they live, they’ll do this to other people. Kidnap them, sell them to the highest bidder, film it for the black market. I dunno… I’ve been here for a year, and I keep thinking about that.”

The door opened and you fell back, looking up at Angel’s concerned face.

“That’s the most fucked up shit I’ve ever heard.”

He lifted you up, setting you right with two arms, while the other two brushed you off.

“So… this is you?” He asked, taking in your rag-doll appearance.

You laughed and imitated his voice, your Demonic abilities kicking in to mimic him perfectly, “I can be anything you want, bay-by.”

“That’s the hottest you’ve ever sounded.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You waved him off blasély. “Just let me in, okay? I can help.”

“So, uh, with the voice, and the-” Angel gestured at your new look, moving his hands in a circular motion, “Can you uh- Be other people?”

“I don’t know,” You said slowly, looking at your hands, “Never tried.”

You concentrated for a moment, trying to transform back to your original self. Usually, it was effortless. Yet, as you stared at the stitches that bound you together, you found it difficult to do more than revert to your original skin colour. Seeing that beneath the stitches was somehow worse, so you stopped trying to change, accepting that for now, you were a ragdoll.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Fuck it. I am what I am, and that’s all that I am.”

You caught sight of Angel’s precious pet pig. Scooping him up into your arms and cuddling him, you cooed in a baby voice, “Besides, you still love me, don’t you Fat Nuggets, yeeeees, precious baby.”

Sitting down on Angel’s bed, you looked up at your friend, deciding that it was better not to let the difficult conversation wait and fester.

“Soooo…” You scratched Fat Nuggets behind the ear, “Charlie told me that you relapsed. Wanna talk about it?”

Angel sighed and flopped back onto the bed so he was lying next to you, his legs planted on the floor.

He dragged two hands over his face, the other two lay despondently over his stomach.

“I- It was just such a shitty day, and Val sent those pricks here, not that they could fill any holes. Wrong kind of pricks, you know?” He half laughed, but it died when he realised the joke wasn’t funny in such a shitty situation.

Still, you smiled at him. When Angel was sad, he didn’t always need someone to sympathise with him. He needed to see that you weren’t going to change and start treating him differently. Sometimes that meant just listening, but other times it meant making the meanest jokes you could think of and laughing at how horrible everything was.

You were his Wanker-anchor, chaining him to reality by being a dick; Husk was the best at it, but seeing as he was nowhere to be found, Angel had you instead.

“Here,” Angel held up a small sealed bag, with his stash in it. So, he hadn’t relapsed after all. He’d just come very close.

“No thanks,” You joked, “I’m full from all the crack I had at breakfast.”

Angel got up and punched your arm, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one,” You took his stash, tucking it away in your pocket, then you stood up, leaving Fat Nuggets on the bed, and you offered Angel your hand. “Come on.”

“What-”

“You need a distraction. So, I challenge you, Angel Dust, teach me how to dance.”

“You’re fucking kiddin’, right?”

You shook your head. “You can dance, I can’t and I’m bored. So, come on, give me some lessons. It’ll be good to get moving.”

“When you fail, can I call you a retard?”

“Fuck no. You can’t say retard anymore, what the fuck is wrong with you. You can insult the shit outta me, but keep your terms acceptable, okay?”

Honestly, Angel had thought he was up to date on what insults and trash talk were deemed acceptable, but evidently, he was wrong.

“Alright, I’ll teach you to dance, but you gotta keep me updated on all the latest slang, and what’s changed up there,” He glanced up as if he could see Earth.

“I’ve been dead a year, bud. A lot can change in that time,” You said, thinking about all the ways you were probably outdated.

Angel grabbed his phone and turned up the tunes, “Sounds like a coward’s excuse to get outta teaching.”

And so it was that you and Angel started to dance. It was nothing like his work, or when he was forced to pimp himself out in clubs as a form of ‘networking.’ Instead, it was stupid, fun, and uncoordinated with you as his partner. Christ, he had never danced with someone so terrible. You let him lead, and together, the two of you laughed at each other’s expense and forgot all about the shitty things that had happened that day.

Up in his Radio Station, Alastor grinned sinisterly. He had heard you quite clearly as he went about his business in the Hotel. You were murdered? How delightful. Victims were so easy to manipulate. Furthermore, you were a ragdoll. Oh, how wonderfully he could exploit that power.

All it would take was an invitation of friendship, a desperate situation, and an offer of assistance. When Alastor had sent Husk away on an errand earlier, he hadn’t imagined it would turn out so wonderfully.

Now, there was a new piece on the chessboard, and Alastor was determined to capture you as his pawn.

Your soul would be his.

[writers-hes]

“get out.” (s. harrington x reader) - new version

Steve tells you to get out of the car because of a disagreement over things you both could never control. (asshole!steve, best friend!eddie, a bit of stancy, lots of angst)

old version can be found here. helpful links: navigation | master lists | rules and guidelines | tag list | fic recs

-

“It’s the same fucking thing all the time with you,” you complained. You didn’t know how you landed yourself in this again. When you agreed to date Steve for the first time many months ago, he promised that you had nothing to worry about; that he was loyal to you and that you will both work on communication. It was something that you both agreed on, seeing as you both came out of traumatic relationships that you both knew would shape your future in the long run. It’s always the same conversations; him and Nancy, you not getting that he can’t just let go of Nancy, him being jealous of your friendships with basically everyone else. It was tiring, an unending cycle of not understanding each other; never willing to do anything to manageable problems. 

“And it’s the same shit with you. You’re always fucking—complaining about things that I can’t control,” he replied, frustration in his voice. He was mad and he was seeing red. Why couldn’t you understand that letting go wasn’t that easy? Him and Nancy shared a bond from the trauma that hit their lives in their younger years. He was speeding in a residential area, swerving away from the trash bin that he almost hit. “Fuck!”

“Steve!” you screeched, a hand on your chest. “Please, keep your eyes on the road,” You’ve never seen him so mad before. Tears welled up in your eyes but you looked away, wiping them and telling yourself to stop because this wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault so why do you feel guilty? 

It was just some party, some stupid party that you both agreed to go to. Well, Steve wanted to go because his friends will be there. Robin, Eddie, and Nancy. She didn’t do anything. She was still all smiles when she saw you, excited to spend time with her friends. God knows she needed one. Jonathan had been so dodgy since he left for California and Steve was there. Steve was always there for her. Even in Phil Newton’s bedroom.  

You were sitting on the couch of Phil’s house, a lukewarm punch on the coffee table. When you arrived at the party you didn’t even want to go to, Steve was with you for a while. His arm hung lazily around your shoulders, taking a swig of some cola he found in the fridge. You were talking with his friends when Eddie arrived. You dragged Steve with you there, to where Eddie was, his arm snaking your waist to tug you in closer while you laughed at some scam Eddie had done. 

“I sold her a gram and she paid for two,” he snickered. “Drunkards are where it’s at, believe me,” 

Soon, Nancy and Robin arrived, a visible rain cloud on Nancy’s head. You excused yourself to ask if she was alright and she told you about Jonathan never calling her back. You comforted her for a while before slipping away to get some punch. When you came back, Steve and Nancy were gone. 

You didn’t mind at first, looking for Eddie until you saw him in the middle of dealing. Robin was talking to a girl named Vickie. You walked aimlessly inside the party, skipping your step due to the slight intoxication until you settled yourself on the curb right outside Phil’s house. Everybody seemed to be having fun; everybody but you. Robin joins you afterwards with a small smile. 

“Hey,”

“Hi, Robin,” you greeted, showing her your cup of punch before taking a swig. “This punch is shit,” you scrunch your nose and Robin smiled wider, taking the punch from you to drink all of it. 

“Red wine, soda, and vodka,” she replied. “Why are you here by yourself? Where’s Eddie?”

“Where’s Steve?” you spit. “I didn’t want to come here, you know. Steve dragged me because you guys would be here.”

Robin looks at you with a guilty expression. 

“Just want to go home,” you yawned. “and sleep.”

Robin sighs. 

“He’s upstairs with Nancy. In Phil’s bedroom.”

“Who?”

“Steve.” she replied and your throat constricts, that ache making you swallow thickly. “Sorry. Please, don’t tell him I told you.”

God, it filled you with dread. Worst case scenario—Nancy and Steve were fucking after professing that they still have feelings for each other.  But still, Steve promised. Right? He said that you would never get in between him and Nancy because there was nothing there anymore. He kissed you in your car after that. It was the thread you were holding onto. You left Robin with a quick “thanks” before going up the stairs. You hated how crowded the house had been. You didn’t even know which of these rooms were Phil’s until some drunk guy said he saw Steve with a girl in that room. You knocked, bracing yourself for the worst. What if he was naked in bed with Nancy Wheeler? What would you do if he opens the door with swollen lips and Nancy’s lipstick smeared all over? 

Steve opens the door and looks at you with guilt. You looked so dishevelled but Steve couldn’t leave her yet. He suddenly felt irritated at Robin who just couldn’t keep her mouth shut. He needed to talk to her about it. She needed to keep you for a few more minutes because Jonathan isn’t coming back to Hawkins for the break. 

“What?” he asked, his voice tight. Your face falls while Steve maintains a defensive stance. You were taken aback by his snarkiness. His hands were on his hips and he’s not even opening the door for more than an inch. Bad thoughts filled your head. Here we go again. 

“I, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Do you need anything?”

“Can we go home?” you asked. You hated tonight. You didn’t want to go here at all. You just wanted to stay at home, cook dinner, and have a peaceful night with Steve for once. 

“Sure. Here, take the keys. Go start the car and I’ll be down in ten minutes,” he replied, giving you the key before closing the door again. 

You stood there, dumbfounded before stomping your way to his car. You would’ve left but you didn’t know where you were. Phil lived in the outskirts of Hawkins and Steve was supposed to be your ride. You slammed the door of Steve’s BMW when Eddie came by. 

“I can hear you stomping from the pool,” Eddie teased, leaning on the passenger window. “What’s wrong?”

“Steve is wrong,” you frowned. “He dragged me all the way here and ditched me as soon as he found Nancy. They’re upstairs,”

“Damn,” Eddie replied. Even he couldn’t provide comforting words. “Well, you’re with me. Super cool, super nice me,”

“Didn’t you sell me double the price when we first met? The same thing you did to that girl you were talking about earlier,” you asked. True but it was an old gag that you shared with him. It didn’t matter anymore. “I still haven’t received my rebates,”

“I give you enough free stuff, sweets. I should be the one getting rebates. I’m thinking of milkshakes,” he said, eyes widening. “I could just taste it! Oh, chocolate milkshake and because you’re so nice, burgers. I’ll pick you up tomorrow,”

“Eddie! I didn’t agree—“

“Yeah, yeah but you owe me.” he replied. “Also, did you know? I went to Lover's Lake the other day, right? Guess who I saw fucking in the woods. That cheerleader with blonde hair and that kid from English? The one that reads loudly to himself,”

“No way,”

“Yes, way. I saw them! With my own eyes!” he exclaimed, making you chuckle loudly. “Seriously, I had to douse my eyes with bleach and baking soda. It was that bad,” 

Steve was frowning from behind Eddie. How come he always sees you at your happiest with him? You looked so miserable when you talked to him earlier and now that you’re with Eddie you’re fucking laughing? Steve watched your smile fade away as he neared, his frown deepening. Eddie looked back, and whistled. “Hey, Steve,”

“Munson,” Steve replied. “Girlfriend and I are leaving,”

“Oh, yeah. See you around,”  Eddie replied, nodding. He looks at you and mouths “scary”, making you laugh and Eddie leaves, jogging back to the pool for business.

-

What happened tonight was how you found yourself in this situation, eyes and knees away from Steve, watching the dark trees blur at the speed of his car. 

“Can’t control? I told you that your relationship with Nancy is bothering me and I find you alone in a room together?” you asked. “What does that make me? What should that make me feel?”

“It’s not like I can just say ‘Sorry, Nance. My girlfriend is so jealous of you, she doesn’t want us spending time together. Or should I?” Steve asked, venom dripping in his voice. “It’s the same shit with you and Eddie,”

“No, it isn’t. Eddie and I are friends. You weren’t there when everyone knows you were with Nancy in Phil’s fucking bedroom. Everyone except for me!” you replied, your voice raising in volume. “Same fucking shit, Steve. Same shit and I’m so tired of fighting.”

“You shouldn’t have come to the party, then,” he mutters and you pause, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Your heart was beating wildly and you could feel your frustration at the tipping point.

“It was you who wanted me there, remember? I didn’t want to attend that party but you dragged me. You ditched me the moment Nancy arrived. Do you remember? I don’t…I’m not even sure if I want to be in the same space with you right now.” you heaved, tears springing up your eyes. You wanted to get your point across but to Steve, he could only hear how you didn’t want to be with him. Slowing down some street, you looked at him in confusion. You just really wanted to go home.

“Get the fuck out,” he mutters, looking at anything but you. 

“Wh-what?”

“Get the fuck out,” he repeated. “You don’t want to be with me right? So get out.”

You stilled, looking at your surroundings. There was nothing but harrowing trees and a lone light. You nodded, rushing out of the door and watching as Steve sped away from you. When he was far enough, you let your shoulders deflate and sobbed. Where did it all go wrong? Steve was never like this with anyone. Why did he…dislike you so much? You walked back to the party, trying to remember the way.

It was so dark and Steve knew how much you hated walking in it. You didn’t know where you were and Steve knew how much you hated being lost. There were no sounds but the creek and the hooting of the owls and Steve knew how much you hated the silence. 

Wrapping your arms to protect you from the darkness and the unknown, you walked fast. You were rushing back because you didn’t know where you were and you were scared; so fucking scared of the night. You’ve been walking for how many minutes now and you could’ve called but there were no payphones anywhere. It was just the occasional street lamp and nothing else. Would you even risk hitching a ride if a car passes by? 

“Fuck!” you cried, sobbing uncontrollably when your arm hung itself on some stray wire by the abandoned bus stop. The sting rips through your whole body and you were so sure that your arm was bleeding badly but you forged on, limping until the trees looked somewhat familiar. 

Soon, you followed the loud bass of the speakers. Kids your age spilled out of the house and you followed from where they came from. The party. You were back from where you started. You shuddered, hoping to God that Eddie was there. Or maybe Robin. Fuck, Nancy, if she was the last resort. You just really wanted to go home. 

It was Robin and Eddie who found you by the door. Apparently, there was some chick with a bleeding arm sitting by the pool who was crying to herself. Descriptions matched what you wore that night and how you looked; there was no other choice than to rush to you. Sure enough, when they ran to the pool, you were there sitting by the edge. Black tears ran down your face, a scowl settled on your lips as you shielded yourself away from the world. Robin noticed the red on your arm, rushing towards your hunched figure.

Eddie was hot on her tails, hiding you under his arms to quiet you down. He drapes his sweater over your shivering figure. Without a word, they led you to Eddie’s van; what should be said anyway? Isn’t it enough? Your friends looked at each other while your body shook with sadness and frustration. 

“S-sorry,” you managed, and you felt Eddie’s grip on your shoulder tighten. 

“It’s okay,” Robin replied, opening the door for you. You curled into her when they were settled, Eddie starting his van to drive you back home. 

“What happened?” Robin asked. Eddie’s eyes snapped towards you and she was about to say sorry when you replied. 

“Steve told me to get out of his car in the middle of nowhere and left me,” you managed between sobs. Their hearts broke, a frown etching his features. You looked so small and forlorn; so defeated and empty. “I just wanted to go home. I don’t even want to anymore because he might be there.”

“It’s okay. We can go back to the trailer. You can share the bed with Robin and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Eddie assured before driving to the trailer park with a crying girl in the passenger seat. 

AN: Thank you so much for your love on my get out fic! I’d love for you to reblog and comment on what you think about the newest version! Can we maaaaaaybe add 100+ notes? Part two is done and is coming very, very soon. I promise.

steve harrington taglist: @thatfantagirl @cherris-n-peaches @Miyababbby @munsonsuccubus @moistmocca @munsonology @aol19 @undeadgirlsworld @eddiethesexy @weaslyslut01 @captainweirdo42 get out new version taglist: @sgrantsgf @angstlover222 @madiisixx @omgvirtualcupcakecollection-blog @tiny-bird-of-sunshine @logibearhockey1 @echoautumn @shelbycillian @jadewatling22 @stargir66 @marmalaidee-blog @joworldsstuff @whisperingwillowxox @pariahsparadise @optimisticallygarbage @mosiwil @oddussy420 @heyyimmissunderstood @sierrahhh @cupcake-jj @loveisonlyforthebrave @thatfantagirl @loveisforonlythebrave

[artsy-hobbitses]

Is there a pet squad? It seems like every time I see something new about a character, it that they end up with a pet. So like the pet avengers or dc superpers version in ties that bind au a possible thing? Also who on both sides has a pet?

I DID NOT INTEND MOST OF THEM but animals just. Happen to some of these folks XDXD

Lesse...

AUTOBOTS:

Esmeralda the cat (Prowl and Jazz) - Jazz brought her back during one of his missions, Prowl basically became the dad who's like "I don't want pet" and a month later has her riding on his shoulders.

Dakshi the ovcharka (Kup) - Big dumb, big fun and big monstrous when you get him in the mood. Usually found roughousing with the Wreckers.

Molly the cattle dog (Ironhide) - Little dynamo of a dog, absolutely bouncing off the walls since she has no cattle to HERD NOW so she herds people instead.

Dunedan the Irish Setter (Mirage) - An old gentleman like his owner and Mirage's sightdog during hunts.

Avalon's Renaissance the horse (Mirage) - A riding horse who has seen better days and now enjoys leisurely canters with her master through the woods of Alpha Trion's estate.

Bigwig the rabbit (Bumblebee) - Is a gift to Bee from Optimus! Is also a right bastard to anyone not Bee, Bee's friends or OP.

An assortment of medical leeches (Ratchet) Many are named, mostly off famous vampires, and they live in a tempest prognosticator he had specially made for them.

A flock of pigeons (Optimus Prime) All are named and wear tags. OP doesn't have a favorite, and refers to them as his Mantiq Altair.

A murder of crows (Drift) They are not individually named, since Drift doesn't really consider them pets in a traditional sense, he simply feeds them and they see him as a human friend and bring him little gifts as such. However, he does refer to them affectionately as "The Crass Ones", because Sludge once asked him what these birds are called (he has some speech issues from the experimentation done on him and is working on remembering names of things around him) and while Drift told Sludge they were crows, he also told Sludge they were known as 'Karasu' in his language. Sludge misconstrued it as 'crass', became distressed and gently asked them to be kind to the nice man feeding them, and Drift found that so sweet/funny that the name stuck.

Tabiba the dove (First Aid) - A gift for First Aid from her uncle, Hotspot, when she graduated medical school.

Serpico the German Shepherd (Nightbeat) - Was the K9 Nightbeat worked most often with while he was a cop, and when he left to go underground/work from the shadows, he 'liberated' Serpico and Serpico chose to go with him rather than stay at the precinct. Is Nightbeat's scenthound and 'bodyguard' during stakeouts.

Lelaps and Boudicca the Maned-subtype Turbofoxes (Alpha Trion) - These were former sentry hounds of the Quintessons and were freed/reprogrammed by the Primes to help them instead.

DECEPTICONS

Old Fella the Pit Bull (Barricade) - Was rescued from an illegal fighting pit, and has long passed his best days. Was intended to be rehomed, but Barricade grew too attached to him, and with Megatron's blessings, decided to keep him instead.

Najmina the falcon (Skywarp) - Skywarp's pride and joy, and his scout during recon missions.

Buster the Jack Russell (Thundercracker) Your standard Jack Russell Terrorist so named because she would bust everyone's balls (her original name was 'Ballbuster') at Marissa Fairborne's base. With Marissa's encouragement, was adopted by Thundercracker who was feeling lost after leaving the Decepticons and needed an 'anchor'/something to care for while he figured out a new purpose in life.

Mollica the British Shorthair cat (Nickel) - One of those "there is a cat in my house, I do not own a cat" situations. This thing just sauntered into the DJD's quarters, almost slapped Tarn's mask off when he grabbed her and Nickel immediately fell in love and insisted on keeping her if only for her audacity. Her being around Tarn has not endeared him to her one bit

Graymalkin the Sphynx cat (Starscream) - Post war, adopted by Starscream as a companion.

[theladyofthevarioussorrows]

Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay...but here it is...

Written in Blood, or the Play in which The Brat Prince Ties the Knot

Part II (of IV)

Part I here! | AO3 link here! | Spotify playlist!

Fandom: The Vampire Chronicles (Gothic horror novel series, 1976-2018); Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire (TV series, 2022-present)

Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt/fem!reader; Lestat de Lioncourt/You

Word count: 3,800+

Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid, the best version…­­­the only one that matters, obviously); fem!reader; The Vampire Armand (lol ouch); Nicolas de Lenfent (even bigger ouch, RIP); Santiago; Estelle; Celeste; Eglee; Sam; Gustav; Quang Pham; pretty much the entire Theatre des Vampires.

Summary: Fem!reader is the newest addition to the Theatre des Vampires, and Lestat becomes smitten with her (of course he does, the little whore!). Lestat’s allure, charm, beauty, and viciousness are not lost on the reader, and she falls for him (I mean, who wouldn’t, let’s be honest). With fem!reader being the freshest member of the Coven, Santiago “initiates” her (similar to how he brought Claudia in) by casting her as Lestat’s co-star in the next play as his love interest. The play, overseen reluctantly by Armand is about a wedding (in the vein of The Taming of the Shrew, As You Like It, or something similar but accurate to the time period, that is the vibe…Lestat, little miss Lady Macbeth himself, “barely Balthazar” Armand, “too old to play Hamlet, too young to play Polonius” Santiago, and I are all Shakespeare girlies, so I thought it would make sense); fem!reader and Lestat are actually getting legally married, unbeknownst to the mortal audience. Fem!reader and Lestat are to be the bride and groom, Santiago is the Justice of the Peace, and the rest of the TDV are the wedding party. While Armand is still the Coven leader, he “directs” the play and Nicki leads the orchestra. Things do not go the way they were planned to go (in Armand’s case); a story of love, sex, and vampire drama unfolds.

Warnings and additional tags: New/eventual relationship, established relationship, smut (P in V), fluff, mention of sex, mention of masturbation, (F and M), oral sex (F and M receiving), all characters (except the reader, duh) are written to be as close to the way they are in the books as well as the show to the best of my ability, reader-insert, reader-interactive, use of Y/N, Lestat gives the reader pet names in French (this is Lestat, after all), mutual pining, flirting, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism (is anything Lestat does really a secret? No, not really), blood drinking, blood sucking, bloodletting, biting, gore, violence, murder (feeding on humans is the only instance of this), both Lestat and fem!reader are bisexual, age gap (fem!reader is younger than Lestat by at least a bit but it doesn’t really matter as much because he himself is a new-ish vampire; Lestat would still be somewhere in his thirties in mortal years by the show’s timeline), Lestat is very seductive and persuasive (fem!reader doesn’t need much persuading, so it’s not a bad thing), a bunch of mentions of Shakespeare, lines from As You Like It are in italics and dialogue from vampires using the Mind Gift are in bold italics.

Notes: This story takes place while Lestat is still performing with the Theatre des Vampires and is newly a vampire himself. Magnus is obviously dead by now (thank God). The events of this fic take place after Lestat breaks up with both Nicki (he is still alive at this point in time) and Armand, but before he meets Louis de Pointe du Lac and later Claudia. I don’t have anything against either character (I adore both greatly!), this is just a “what if?” kind of situation. This is a basic idea I had had for literal years ever since I read the books, but I didn’t do anything with it until the second season of the show started, specifically episode 10. I wasn’t immune to Harlequin Lestat, and I was FERAL about it. Sam Reid only made that worse for me (God, I am so in love with him…that man IS Lestat. He doesn’t just play him, he BECAME him, and no one else has come close. Tom Cruise and Stuart Townsend could NEVER!). The premise of the fic came to me while listening to “Written in Blood” by She Wants Revenge…one thing led to another, and here we are! Also, yes, I KNOW the vampires don’t “have sex” in the novels, but they do in the show (a LOT). I might make references to things that have happened in the books (mostly Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat, possibly a bit of Queen of the Damned) but might not have been shown in the TV series yet, so reader beware of that. Let this be the spoiler warning if you are not familiar with the books or haven’t watched the show. I am completely ignoring both movies, because they mean absolutely nothing to me now that the (far superior) show exists. The piece that fem!reader uses for her audition comes from Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It…she is reading as Rosalind while disguised as Ganymede, and Lestat reads with her as Orlando. I thought the parallels were a nice touch. I obviously do not own the rights to As You Like It, I merely used the one scene for Y/N’s audition, and to add romantic and dramatic effect. Special shout out to my best friend @eli-rx for their contribution and ideas!

Language: English (except for a handful of pet names and expressions used by Lestat in French, hopefully I did it correctly. I took 4 years of French in high school, but I am not fluent)

Taglist!: @themorriganisamonster @notsostrangerthing @witcherfilms @inthiseverymoment

Following the performance of the night, everyone in the Coven came backstage to officially welcome Y/N into the Theatre des Vampires. As she joined them in the middle of the room, Y/N was pleasantly nervous, not only because all of this was foreign to her, but also because she was reeling from her encounter with Lestat the night before. Never in her life, before accepting the Dark Gift or since, has she ever felt so enraptured and enamored by anyone as much as Lestat.  He watched her with a sly smile on his face as she sat down in the chair in the middle of the room, and she looked at him with a rosy glow on her cheeks as she beamed back at him.

Look at you…you’re glowing, ma chérie. Absolutely stunning… Y/N heard Lestat’s sensual voice in her mind, and it made her head swim. He winked at her as he moved to stand behind her in her chair. As the rest of the Coven formed a tight circle around Y/N, Armand moved to stand on her left, a large book bound in red leather in his arms. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

“Y/N, before we begin, we have something we would like to give you,” Armand said, his voice proud but his hesitation still evident. Armand turned to the beautiful blonde vampire behind her. “Lestat, I believe it is you who would like to have the honor? It was your idea, after all.” Armand tried his best not to sound bitter.

The violinist Nicki leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and biting the inside of his cheek, trying to appear as neutral as possible despite being uncomfortable with the events of the past couple of nights. He didn’t have anything against Y/N; there was no reason to, he became numb to the way his former lover operates, and he only hoped that Y/N stayed happy—and safe—with Lestat by her side, should it come to that. But Nicki already knew better, Lestat had his sights set on Y/N, and there was nothing anyone could do to tear her away from him now.

“Of course, how could I forget?” Lestat said in his special syrupy and sultry way, gently caressing Y/N’s cheek before turning to walk over to his vanity in the corner of the room, a deep blush appearing on her face. Lestat opened the drawer and pulled out a gift wrapped in purple paper, shutting the drawer with his hip before walking back over to Y/N. He gently placed the present in her hands. “Thou art wise as thou art beautiful…isn’t that right, darling?” Lestat said, starting to blush himself. “Go on, mon amour, show us what it is.” Y/N, momentarily at a loss for words, smiled again as she gingerly freed the item from its wrapping. Once she realized what it was, her jaw dropped and red tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, she found herself able to speak again. In her hands was a gorgeous tome that housed the entire works of Shakespeare, bound in green leather with gilded edges.

“Oh…my God…it’s incredible…” Y/N said, blood tears starting to fall down her face. “Thank you all so much…” Y/N wiped her face. “Lestat…this was your idea?” Lestat nodded with a charming smile.

“Let’s just say I know more than you’re aware of, sweetheart,” Lestat said as he wiped a tear from her face and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “When I said you were lovely, chérie, it was not in jest. I meant it wholeheartedly.” Y/N swooned and blushed at his words.

“Thank you, Lestat. This is the most wonderful gift anyone could ever give me.” Y/N said lovingly.

“Oh love, believe me,” Lestat said. “This is only the beginning.” Sensing a change of tone in the air that he wasn’t keen on being present for, Armand spoke up to break up the growing sexual tension between the blonde charmer and his newest possible paramour.

“Alright, dear Y/N…it is time. Will you have us?” Armand said with a small genuine smile, his voice tinged with apprehension.

“Yes maître. I will,” Y/N said as she smiled back at the amber-eyed vampire to her right. “I’m ready.”

“Good then…let’s begin the initiation. Santiago will read you in.” Armand said, trying to sound more confident than he felt in his cold heart. Lestat once again took his position standing behind Y/N’s chair. Armand handed the red book to Santiago as he stood on Y/N’s left, opening it to a page with the title “The Great Commandments Which All Vampires Must Obey.” Santiago moved a bit closer to her and began to speak proudly.

“The Five Laws…law one,” Santiago said. “Each Coven must have its leader, and only he might order the working of the Dark Trick upon a mortal.” Y/N looked up at Santiago as he read her the rites, gasping quietly as she suddenly felt Lestat’s hands brush her hair off her neck and place his hands on her shoulders, holding her to the chair gently. “Will you abide?” Santiago continued, noticing Lestat’s gesture and smiling wickedly. Y/N nodded.

“I will,” Y/N replied, eyes widening as she began to feel the rest of her body begin to flush. Santiago smiled and continued.

“Law two: the Dark Gifts must never be given to the crippled, the maimed, to children, or to those who cannot, even with the Dark Powers, survive on their own,” Santiago continued. “Will you abide?” Armand stifled a small sigh as he looked on. After a few seconds, he placed his hand over Y/N’s heart.

“I will,” Y/N answered again, trembling slightly. Celeste moved in front of Y/N, while the others tightened the circle. Lestat, gripping Y/N’s shoulders only a bit tighter, offered his praise without moving his lips.

My my Y/N, you’re adapting wonderfully, mon ange. Very, very good, darling.

Santiago cleared his throat dramatically before carrying on with the initiation. “Law three,” Santiago resumed. “Never should an old vampire work this magic lest the blood of the fledgling be too strong, for all our gifts increase naturally with age, and the old ones have too much strength to pass on. Will you abide?” Y/N nodded once again.

“I will.” Y/N felt her breath becoming more uneven as she squirmed under Lestat and Armand’s hands. Celeste moved to place her hand over Y/N’s heart as well. Eglee, Estelle, Quang Pham, Gustav, and Sam moved in closer and followed suit. Y/N’s gaze briefly drifted to Nicki, who hesitated for a moment before he placed his hand on hers, offering a friendly but sad smile. Y/N smiled back.

Santiago flashed Y/N another smirk before he began again. “Law four: no vampire may ever destroy another vampire, except that the Coven Master has the power of life and death over all his flock. Will you abide?” Y/N swallowed hard as she shook her head.

“I will.” Y/N took a deep breath before letting it go.

Santiago spoke up again. “Law five,” he continued. Noticing the anxiety in Y/N’s movements but not sensing any hesitation of any kind from her, Santiago chuckled to himself before beginning again. “No vampire shall ever reveal his true nature, or ever reveal the history of the vampire to a mortal and let the mortal live.” Santiago paused as he shot Lestat a knowing look, fully aware of the hunger and want coursing through Lestat’s body as he held Y/N to the chair. Lestat did not break his concentration on Y/N for a second, his attention solely on her. Santiago rolled his eyes. “No vampire must commit to writing the history of the vampires, and a vampire’s name must never be known to mortals, save from his tombstone, and never must any vampire reveal to mortals the location of his or any other vampire’s lair. Will you abide?” Lestat let his fingers drag gently along Y/N’s collarbone, smiling slyly and giggling lowly under his breath as he felt her shiver. Y/N inhaled sharply.

“I will,” Y/N said, a little more breathlessly than she probably intended. She let her head fall back slightly before gingerly shaking her head, as if to shake the feeling off. The other vampires moved closer to her, preparing her for the final phase of the initiation. Santiago clapped the red leather book shut loudly before smiling at Y/N, placing his hand on her as well.

“An outsider no longer,” Santiago beamed. “Welcome to the Coven, little miss Y/N.”

Reluctantly, Armand motioned for Lestat to be the one to offer his blood to her first. Lestat moved one of his hands from her shoulders to her neck and gently tilted it back. He bit a significant gash into his forearm before lowering it to Y/N’s lips. She swallowed softly before gently holding onto his wrist.

“Good girl,” Lestat whispered as she pressed her lips to the dripping wound and eagerly lapped up the blood that oozed from it. “Tres bien fait, Y/N. You’re a natural, my love. Just as I knew you would be.” Y/N’s eyes rolled back into her head as she drank his blood, the flavor of him sweeter than anything she had ever tasted. Lestat moaned softly at the sight, trying in vain to control his need for her. After a few moments, Lestat gently pulled his arm away, smiling as he watched a small trickle of blood fall from the corner of her mouth. He slowly wiped the blood away from her face with his thumb, letting his finger press against her lip and pull it down before letting it go. Never breaking eye contact with her, he took his bloody thumb into his mouth and licked the blood off. Y/N’s eyes widened as he smiled hungrily at her, her head beginning to swirl with love, hunger—and something else entirely. Armand, not at all surprised by Lestat’s bold display of sensuality towards Y/N, shook his head and bit his tongue to keep himself somewhat calm. Lestat stepped out of the way. Next was Celeste, who then offered Y/N her wrist, and she accepted her with gratitude.

“We’re happy to have you, Y/N. Welcome to the Theatre,” Celeste said with a proud smile.

With that, one by one, the other vampires offered their blood to Y/N, and she eagerly accepted each of them as they accepted her as one of their own, thanking them for the gifts they have given her.

After the rituals were over and Y/N was fully initiated into the Theatre des Vampires, she gasped lightly as she felt a soft but firm arm wrap around her waist from behind.

“You are nothing short of magnificent, love. Beautiful work, mon ange. Y/N, you were dazzling as always,” Lestat said with a sly smile. “I am still interested to hear more about you. What do you say we continue our little tête-à-tête from last night?” He smiled a bit wider as she turned to face him as she beamed back at him.

“Yes, Lestat. I’d love to,” Y/N swooned. “What would you like to know?” Lestat gently took her by the hand and led her to the corner of the room. Even as a mortal, no man had ever made her feel the way she did now…it was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

“Only whatever it is you’re willing to tell me, mon coeur. Anything and everything,” Lestat said with a charming smile as he brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it. “I find you absolutely enthralling, Y/N.” He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, his fingers gently grazing her skin as he does so. She felt warmth spread across her face under his touch as she leaned into it. “I must say, I’ve been wanting to share a moment with you, ma belle,” he said as he sat down in the chair at the vanity. Lestat gently pulled Y/N onto his lap and wrapped one of his arms around her waist, while his other hand brushed some of her hair over her shoulder. Y/N felt her heart begin to pound against her ribs again as she settled herself in his tender but strong hold. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, chérie?” Y/N swallowed softly as she gazed at him.

“Well, I’m flattered, truly. I would love to get to know you better, too. You’ve all been very kind and helpful, and I feel very lucky.” Y/N said as she rested one of her hands on his shoulder to anchor herself to him. “I feel especially lucky to have shared the stage with you yesterday.” She giggled quietly as she took a deep breath before beginning again. “But I guess I’ve always loved everything about the theatre, ever since I was a little girl. I never really had the chance to explore or experiment with anything of the sort until I was turned.”

Lestat’s periwinkle gaze never strayed from Y/N’s vampire eyes as she spoke, his attention focused solely on her. He acknowledged her answer for a moment. “Ah, I see. I am sorry to hear that you haven’t been able to embrace your talents until you were Born to Darkness, but I would argue that might be one of the reasons some of us consider our nature to be an honor. You seem to be adjusting exceptionally, ma beauté. Please forgive me for asking, but who was it that bestowed the Dark Gift upon you?” Lestat gently ran his long fingers through her silken hair as he spoke to her, intently listening to her words. He was madly in love with this beautiful young vampire in his arms, and she had fallen just as hard for him. Y/N couldn’t imagine any other place she would rather be than in Lestat’s embrace. She blushed deeper as she answered his question honestly.

“Celeste is my maker. I’m still learning from her, Santiago, Armand, and the rest of the Coven…this is all very new to me.” Y/N caressed Lestat’s face and smiled. “I really am glad to be here.” Y/N gazed at Lestat, delighted to find a blush forming on his face as well. He smiled back at her as she continued. “Lestat…this is the most alive I’ve ever felt.”

“Oh, ma chérie …” Lestat traced the curve of her jaw with his hand as his voice dropped to a low and loving tone. “I want you to know that I am happy to see you bloom and flourish here with us…” He caressed her cheek and jaw with the back of his hand, maintaining eye contact with her. Lestat watched her blush and tremble slightly as he touched her, making mental notes of what she seemed to enjoy the most before he broke the brief pause. “…with me.” Y/N’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped slightly; a look Lestat came to know very well. She gulped silently.

“Do you really mean that, Lestat? I…I don’t know what to say…” Y/N, smiling, began to feel overwhelmed by his clear love for her, and it made her feel dizzy. Lestat was aware of this, and he held her closer to him, his grip on her hips tightening slightly, silently promising her he would catch her if she were to fall.

“You don’t have to say anything, mon amour. I meant every word. I have been entranced by you from the very second I laid my eyes upon you.” Lestat’s hand travelled down to find Y/N’s and tangled his fingers with hers. “You have me utterly spellbound, Y/N.”

Lestat hooked his thumb and forefinger under Y/N’s chin and gently moved her head so that their eyes were locked in each other’s gaze again. Slowly, Lestat leaned in closer as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. She smiled and blushed as she moved down to meet him, her eyes fluttering shut once their lips met. Lestat kissed her softly at first, taking his time with her. She kissed him back gingerly, allowing herself to savor everything he offered her.

As Lestat and Y/N shared their tender but increasingly intense kiss, someone was lurking across the room, only barely out of sight.

Santiago could not help himself. He stared at the two vampires at the vanity, so lost in the throes of their hungry passion that they weren’t aware that he was watching them, or for how long. Santiago ran his fingers through his slicked back bottle-blonde hair as he watched Lestat practically devour the new Coven member whole, smirking once he became aware that there was no holding back on Y/N’s end either. Y/N kissed Lestat back as if she would disappear into thin air if she stopped, and she knew well enough by now that Lestat would not let her go if she tried. Whatever Lestat gave her, she returned to him with equal vigor and thirst. Santiago could not decide if the sight unfolding in front of him thrilled him or sickened him. All he knew was that, for whatever reason, he needed to alert Armand. Is Y/N a threat to the Theatre? She doesn’t seem like it. Is she a victim? If she was, she wouldn’t be so quick to give herself to Lestat…right? What if she’s doing all of this of her own will? Santiago wasn’t sure, but he could not tear his eyes away from Y/N and Lestat’s hungry embrace, no matter how hard he tried.

Completely oblivious to Santiago’s spying—or, more likely, aware and unbothered—Lestat carried on with his discovery of Y/N’s mouth with his tongue, her ministrations matching his. Lestat’s hands made their way from the back of Y/N’s head and down her neck, dragging his fingers gently all the way down until he reached her hips. He gripped her and held her in his lap, not hard enough to hurt her but firmly enough to leave light handprints on her skin through her clothes. As Lestat moved his lips from hers to trail light kisses along her jawline, his hands found the hem of Y/N’s blouse and lifted it up slightly to let his fingers graze her skin beneath it, making her whimper softly and shiver under his touch. He let his long fingers dance along her sides and spine, up and down her ribs and chest, then back around again, his movements agonizingly measured. Immediately loving the effect he had on Y/N, Lestat chuckled lowly.

“Such beautiful sounds you make, mon ange,” Lestat whispered lowly between kisses. “I wonder how many more I can coax out of you…” his voice trailed off as his lips continued their exploration along Y/N’s jaw and neck, gently nipping at her collarbone before moving back up to capture her mouth in another searing kiss. Lestat helped her change her position in his lap, so that her thighs were around his waist, pulling her closer against him in the chair as he leaned back. He let his hands travel lower as he tightened his grip. Y/N showed her approval by moaning against his lips, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to stabilize herself. Lestat chuckled slyly again. “Shh, ma chérie…” Lestat whispered, his voice sultry. “Sois une gentille fille et tais-toi... tout le monde peut entendre...”

Y/N answered him breathlessly, completely caught up under Lestat’s spell. She knew some French but wasn’t fluent; she wasn’t entirely sure what Lestat said to her, but whatever it was sounded absolutely sinful. “What…? What did you say?” Lestat chuckled and smiled wickedly once more.

“Oh, my love…I said…” Lestat trailed off as he let his fangs softly scrape against the skin between her ear and her neck before speaking again. “Be a good girl and keep quiet…anyone can hear…” Lestat said, making Y/N gasp. “But it wouldn’t make any difference who hears us, now would it, darling?” Lestat’s words made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat before she whimpered a bit louder. Lestat let out a low growl. “I suspected as much, mon petit monstre.” Lestat bit her neck ever so gently, hard enough to cause a small bead of blood to drip down her neck. He quickly lapped it up and kissed her again before she could speak, making her yelp against his mouth and twitch in his arms.

Santiago was both so stunned and so morbidly entertained by this display of lustful longing that he nearly forgot his own mission. Maître…there has been an occurrence. A sort of…expected occurrence, shall we say? I have eyes on them now and…it seems it’s serious already. Very serious in fact.

Armand, also painfully aware of the steamy romance brewing between the Theatre’s founder and the Coven’s newest addition, answered Santiago with an annoyed snarl. I know, Santiago. Leave them be. There isn’t much we can do now. And don’t give Lestat the satisfaction…you know he revels in it. Don’t encourage him. He knows what he’s doing.

Santiago answered his master, deciding he should let these two vampires have their little moment. As much as he wanted to keep watching them, he knew that Lestat would catch on soon, if he hadn’t already. Yes maître. They’ll wear themselves out soon. Though I reckon it could be a while—

Armand winced and interrupted him. Enough, Santiago. Coffin, now.

As the two riled-up vampires explored their newfound love—and lust—for each other, Lestat broke the kiss softly, resting his forehead against hers, both trying to catch their breath and come back down to Earth. Lestat sighed and chuckled lightly.

“Mmm, mon petit chaton…you are insatiable,” Lestat breathed. “But it seems we’ve attracted some attention.” Y/N whimpered as Lestat felt her quiver in his arms, giggling as he held her harder, stopping her from falling backwards. She wrapped her arms around his neck tighter.

“We did…? Where…?” Y/N answered breathlessly, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Lestat smiled slyly.

“No need to concern yourself with that, my darling.” Lestat said, trailing soft kisses along her neck before moving to whisper into her ear. “What do you say we continue this tomorrow, hmm? I don’t want you thinking I’m anywhere finished with you yet…” Lestat growled. He gently patted her hips, signaling for her to stand up from his lap. He held her hand as she stood up, chuckling to himself as he watched her wobble as she stood. He stood up with her and held her hand. “Come on, my love,” Lestat said with a sly smile. “I’ll walk you to your coffin, you look tired. We’ll meet again here after rehearsal tomorrow, yes?” Y/N nodded and followed Lestat out of the room. She could have sworn she floated beside him, and Lestat knew that he was dangerously in love with her. He knew he had her in is clutches now, but he wanted to drag this out as long as he could.