#i want hazel to be part of his pack

[emeagirnacamps]

i am kinda craving this very specifically type of hazel and jason friendship....

[theostrophywife]

agora hills.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: agora hills by doja cat.

author's note: as always, this unhinged fic idea started in chlo and i's endless chats about these pesky men. enzo has a special place in my heart because he's so golden retriever sunshine (don't be fooled by that face though he's filthy).

Enzo Berkshire was your best friend. 

Despite what your friends seemed to think, the relationship between you two had always been strictly platonic. Perhaps it was easy to misinterpret your actions as romantic. After all, you and Enzo were very touchy and affectionate people. It was typical of you two to hold hands in the halls, cuddle in the common room, and even share the occasional cheek or forehead kiss, which you deemed completely normal. This type of behavior has been the standard since you were eleven years old. 

Still, you weren’t blind. You knew your best friend was attractive. Enzo had always been handsome in your eyes, but then fourth year rolled around and everyone else started to notice it too. To be fair, he had grown at least a foot over the summer and quidditch definitely helped him pack on lean muscle. Needless to say, girls flocked to him like a swarm of bees to honey, but he never really seemed interested in any of them. Not that you were paying attention. It was a natural thing to notice when you spent every waking moment with someone. 

The point of the matter was that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for Enzo whatsoever. Or so you thought. Until the bloody dream that flipped your friendship on its head. 

It was a normal day. You and Enzo were studying in your dorm like you usually did after class. Enzo was sprawled out on the rug scribbling away for his assignment on Ancient Runes. You were on your bed reading up on History of Magic. You knew you should be focusing since there would be a test tomorrow, but the chapter was boring and you were absolutely knackered from attending classes all day. 

Before you knew it, you were fully knocked out. A part of you was aware that you were dreaming, but the surreality of it blurred the lines of reality. 

In your dreams, you were still in your room studying with Enzo. Except your best friend was no longer hunched over his homework on your rug. Now Enzo was standing at the edge of your bed, blocking out the afternoon sun. You stared up in confusion as he took the book from your hands. 

“Enz? What are you doing?” 

Enzo stared intently at you, his soft hazel eyes flickering down to your lips. It was a little like being hit with a beam of sunshine. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“I want to try something.”

You held your breath as Enzo leaned over. The bed dipped from his weight as you sat frozen in place. He rubbed soothing circles along your wrist, causing you to melt into his touch. It was a familiar sensation, one that always calmed you down but right at that moment, you felt anything but. The beat of your heart echoed so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. 

Enzo leaned in close, his face mere inches away from yours. He stroked your cheek gently. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured, the low whisper of his voice conjuring goosebumps along your arms. “Can I?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly. He was so close that you could smell the woodsy smell of his cologne, combined with a hint of fresh laundry and citrus. 

“Yes,” you responded breathily. 

Before you could think better of it, Enzo was kissing you. It was soft and sweet, his kisses gentle while he tested the waters. The quick little pecks soon evolved into deeper kisses as your body responded to his touch. Your hands moved outside of your own volition, fingers tangling in Enzo’s hair as you pulled him closer. He groaned and tilted your head back for a better angle, your bodies pressed close together and radiating heat underneath your clothes. 

Enzo scooted back on the headboard and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss. You gasped when his hands roamed underneath your skirt, gripping your thighs so that you were fully settled over his length. What started as a sweet innocent kiss escalated into a full on heated makeout session. Kissing till your lips were swollen. Moaning into each other’s mouths. Grasping at every inch of skin the two of you could reach. 

When you felt him grind his hardness against your backside, you gasped. Enzo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, swirling and sucking until you were panting above him. 

“Y/N,” he grunted huskily. “I need you.”

The desperation in Enzo’s voice made you shudder. You didn’t even think twice before unbuckling his belt and tugging his boxers down. Enzo groaned as he stroked himself, pulling your panties to the side. You whimpered as he teased his tip at your entrance. 

“I want you so fucking bad.”

“I want you too, Enzo.”

Friendship be damned, Enzo gripped your hips and watched as you sank into him. His eyes rolled back when he felt your warmth and wetness hug around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Gods, you feel so fucking good. Better than I imagined.”

You clenched at his words and he inhaled sharply before rolling your hips to set the pace. Once you established a steady rhythm, Enzo pinned you with his lust blown gaze and watched as you rode him. He lavished you with sloppy kisses, stopping every now and then to moan into your mouth while you continued rolling your hips against him. 

“That’s it, princess. Feels good, yeah? Keep rolling your hips just like that,” Enzo said, thrusting upwards to fuck into you. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Just as Enzo hit that perfect spot, your eyes flew open. 

You were startled to find yourself back in your dorm, warm, sweaty, and alone in bed. You nearly fell off altogether when you found Enzo still sitting on the rug below you. While you were dreaming about doing filthy things with him, Enzo was completely oblivious and focused on studying. Like you should’ve been. 

Enzo perked up, concern written all over his face when he saw how flushed you were. He immediately rushed over to your side. Your cheeks were so red that he thinks you might be running a fever. Enzo pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning. 

“You’re burning up, Y/N.” Enzo sounded genuinely worried. If only he knew the reason why you currently shared the same temperature as the common room fireplace. “Maybe I should walk you over to the infirmary?” 

“No!” Your voice echoed shrilly in your dorm, causing you to wince. “I’m fine. I just…I just need fresh air.”

“Oh good, I’ll come walk with you.”

“No,” you said rather harshly. Enzo frowned. “I, uh, I think I should go alone.”

Now Enzo was truly perturbed. He pouted at your refusal. Why didn’t you want him to come? You always walked around the Black Lake together. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” 

He squinted at you, hoping to catch your gaze. You completely avoided looking him in the eyes before scrambling out of bed. 

“I’m fine, really. I’ll see you later, Enz.”

You were out the door before Enzo even had a chance to respond. 

You were acting like a bloody idiot. 

After that unfortunate afternoon, you spent the next few days avoiding Enzo. The dream had completely flustered you. It was impossible to be in the same room as your best friend. You couldn’t even look Enzo in the eyes without thinking of him being inside of you.  

More than that, it was making you rethink your entire friendship. You adored Enzo. He had been a constant in your life since first year. The two of you were inseparable and he was pretty much the most important person in your life. You had never once thought about him in a sexual manner, but obviously you were attracted to him given the filthy thoughts that flooded your mind like a plague. 

You were praying to Merlin that this stupid little lapse of yours would pass and take all the hormone addled aftereffects with it. Perhaps it was just lack of physical affection that was causing you to think this way. After all, you had broken up with your last boyfriend months ago. There was the casual hookup every now and then, but those never really satisfied you in the way that you wanted. It certainly wasn’t anything like how Enzo had been in your dream. 

As you cataloged and compared your most recent stints, the intrusive thought slipped in without warning. There were no secrets between you and Enzo, so you knew that it had been awhile since he hooked up with anyone else too. Come to think of it, except for a couple flings here and there, Enzo has never really had a serious relationship. 

You never really thought much about it. It wasn’t like you were running headfirst into commitment either, but now you couldn’t help but wonder why Enzo had never had a girlfriend. Were relationships just not his cup of tea? If so, why the bloody hell not?

By the time you had unraveled that string, Pansy was snapping her fingers in front of your face. You shook your head and rejoined the present. Before your little spiral, you and Pansy had been discussing the homework for Charms. 

Your friend narrowed her eyes on you. “Alright, spill,” Pansy said. “There’s clearly something on your mind.”

You peered around the common room. For the most part, it was empty. Only a few of the other Slytherins lingered in your midst, but one could never be too careful in the viper’s nest. 

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you leaned closer to Pansy and spoke in a low voice. “Have you ever had a dream about one of the guys?”

Pansy leaned back on the velvet emerald couch with an expression of intrigue. “What kind of dream?”

“You know,” you urged, picking at the cushion in your lap. “The sexual kind.”

She shook her head, her glossy bob shimmering in the faint light. “No, I can’t say that I have.” 

“I have!” Theo said cheerfully as he plopped down between you. His presence startled you, but he looked utterly unperturbed as he butted into the conversation. “About both of you, actually.”

You wrinkled your nose and smacked him on the arm. “Gross, Theo.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Pansy said with a look of disgust.

Theo was deeply offended by it all. “What? I’ll have you know that I was very loving and gentle,” you groaned and made a gagging sound. “I also had one about Reg and that one wasn’t as gentle, if you know what I mean.”

He grinned cheekily, which only made you lament further. Pansy shook her head in disbelief. “Really, Regulus? He’s the human equivalent of a grumpy black cat. All the first years are terrified of him.”

Theo shrugged. “What can I say? I’m into that. All that surliness and those curls, y’know…”

It was Pansy’s turn to smack him. “For Salazar’s fucking sake, shut it, Theodore. I want to know who Y/N had a dream about.”

“Was it Riddle?” Theo prompted.

“Which one?”

“Mattheo, obviously. Tom looks like he hasn’t had a woman’s touch in years.”

“That’s mean!” you cut in. “I’m telling Tom you said that.”

“Please don’t. I value my life, thank you very much.”

Pansy scoffed. “It’s not either one of the Riddles then.”

“Was it me?” asked Theo. 

“Gods, no.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “It can’t be Blaise because him and Pans are shagging on the daily.” Theo’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me it’s Malfoy.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“But he’s close, right?” Pansy said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. You nodded weakly. She gasped. “Oh my god, Berkshire? Really?”

You buried your face in your hands. You were truly going to die of embarrassment. Pansy continued with her assessment. “Well, you two are practically attached at the hip, so it makes sense. Still, I truly didn’t expect it to be Enzo. He’s so sweet, I just can’t see him that way.”

The shit-eating grin on Theo’s face made you cringe. “Was it good? It had to be, right? Is that why you’ve been avoiding him all week?” 

“What? I haven’t been avoiding him.”

“Sure you have,” declared Theo. “Berkshire’s all broken up about it. Thinks he’s done something to upset you. The whole time you’ve been nursing filthy little fantasies about sweet baby boy Enzo. Oh, I can’t wait to tell the guys about this.”

Panic seized you and Theo yelped as you held his arm in a death grip. “You can’t say a fucking word, Theo. Do you hear me? It’s already humiliating enough to have a sex dream about my best friend. I will literally murder you if you tell any of the boys.”

Theo sighed. “Fine, I won’t tell. Now let go of me, woman.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Pansy. “You can’t keep avoiding Enzo forever.”

You sighed. You were completely and utterly at a loss. Pansy was right. Enzo was already starting to suspect something and you felt bad that he thought he’d done something to upset you when you were the one in the wrong. How could you possibly act normal after all of this?

“Maybe you should ask him if he’s ever thought about you that way,” Theo suggested. “That way the ball’s in his court.” 

You scoffed. “I’m supposed to just come up to him and casually ask, Hey Enz, have you ever had a sex dream about me that was so filthy that you couldn’t make eye contact for days after?” 

“I guarantee you the answer will be yes.”

As you chided Theo for being his usual ridiculous self, Pansy discretely nudged you. Enzo rounded the corner and waved at the three of you. Theo and Pansy shared a look before leaving you to your own devices. Bloody traitors. 

Enzo was unbothered by their sudden departure. “Hi, love. I haven’t seen you all week. You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?” 

His tone was light and playful, but it still made you nervous as all hell. “No, not at all,” you internally cringed at the forced cheeriness in your voice. “I’ve just been…busy. Yeah, that’s it. No other reason.”

For Salazar’s fucking sake. You were horrible at this. Lying to Enzo wasn’t something you were used to. 

Enzo nodded. “Okay, well we’re still on for movie night, right?” 

“Oh, yeah, about that—“

“It shouldn't be a problem,” he added thoughtfully, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Unless you’re actually avoiding me.”

Fuck. Your mind was screaming at you to say no. To make up some lame excuse. To do something other than gape at Enzo. 

Unfortunately, your brain decided to stop working as soon as those dimples of his made an appearance. Merlin’s bloody beard, you truly needed to get a grip. 

You forced yourself to smile back so he wouldn’t think anything was amiss. “”I was just going to ask what snacks you wanted.”

“Just you,” Enzo said, his grin growing wider. Did his voice suddenly sound deeper than it had a few seconds ago? No, it was likely just your delusion. “That’s all I need.”

Later that night, Enzo arrived with the projector and a handful of movie choices. You spent the entire afternoon pacing and working yourself into a fit. He was entirely unaware of the cloud of anxiety hanging over you as he loaded up your favorite movie. 

Your dorm had never felt as cramped as it did at this moment. Enzo plopped down on your bed. The scene of the crime. You climbed in on the other end and resigned yourself to sitting perfectly upright and rigid while he made himself comfortable. Enzo looked at you strangely. Usually, the two of you would be cuddling. 

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Enzo asked, spreading his arms out. “Come cuddle.”

You sighed internally. This felt like tempting fate, but what could you do? If you refused, Enzo would definitely know that something was up. As slow as a snail, you scooted closer to his side. He took one look at you and shook his head before hauling you over to him. Besides being manhandled, the position was quite familiar. You tucked against his side, head resting on his shoulder while he nuzzled his cheek against your hair. 

Enzo pressed play and you started to relax while the movie unfolded. The peace didn’t last for long. As the opening scene played, Enzo absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt. Again, his affectionate nature wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Yet you couldn’t help but hold your breath as he rubbed soothing circles against your hip. While the gesture usually comforted you, it had the opposite effect now. 

“You’re so tense, love,” Enzo murmured. His voice sounded so deep and delicious.

“It’s been a stressful week.”

“I bet.” 

You shuddered as he trailed his fingers over your spine, drawing patterns along your skin. Temptation wasn’t knocking at your door. It was kicking it down altogether. Enzo shifted, brushing his knuckles just below the hook of your bra. 

“This can’t be comfortable,” he said, hooking a finger around the band. “Maybe you’ll feel more relaxed with it off. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” 

There was no time to analyze what the fuck was going on. All of your efforts were spent solely on fighting the urge to moan. Enzo toyed with the band, waiting for your answer. 

“Yeah,” you said breathily. “I think—I think you’re right.”

“Course I am. Let me take it off for you then, yeah?” 

“Okay.” 

Enzo unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers. Almost like he had long mastered the art and this was merely just child’s play. He helped you shrug out of your bra and carelessly tossed it to the side. You sighed softly as Enzo switched to long, purposeful strokes. He started at your hips, then your stomach, gradually moving up until he was barely an inch away from the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered close, completely lost to his touch. They opened again when Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours. 

“Hi,” he said with a smile. 

“Hi,” you whispered. “What are we doing, Enzo?” 

“Nothing that I haven’t thought about a million times over.”

“You’ve thought about me like this?” 

“I’m always thinking about you,” Enzo admitted. “Sometimes it’s just cuddling or holding hands. Just sweet stuff cause I love touching you like this, but other times…other times I dream about you like you dreamt about me.”

Your breath hitched. “You know about my dream?” 

“I heard you in the common room earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s why I haven’t talked to you much this week. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Enzo took your hand and slid it down the front of his gray sweatpants. You gasped when you felt how hard he was against your palm. “Do I feel uncomfortable to you, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t trust yourself with words at the moment. Enzo nuzzled against you, littering soft little kisses in his wake. He pecked and nipped at your neck, your collarbone, your jaw. 

“You drive me fucking mad, you know that? I want you so badly I’d literally get on my knees and beg if you asked.”

The tension was too much for you to bear. You pulled him in by the front of his shirt and pressed your lips against his. Enzo groaned into your mouth. The hand underneath your shirt crawled up until he was cupping your tits, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. Enzo tried to keep the kisses soft. He intended to savor it, but every ounce of self control went out the window the second he heard you moan. 

Enzo flipped you over so that you were straddling his lap. He looked down and realized that you were wearing one of his old shirts and the sight of it made him even harder. The tiny shorts you were wearing was a pesky little barrier, but it didn’t stop him from grinding his hardness against your ass. He tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

“Take this off, right now. I need to feel you, pretty girl.”

He watched as you peeled off the shirt. Enzo did the same, tossing both articles of clothing over the side of your bed. He groaned at the skin to skin contact. Enzo smiled as he drank it all in. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“You’re not bad to look at either, Enz.”

Enzo chuckled. “Cheeky girl. Come on, then. Shorts off too.”

You took off your shorts as Enzo slipped out of his sweatpants and boxers. He kissed you again, sloppy, filthy, and downright obscene. There was plenty of panting and groping as the two of you explored each other’s bodies. Enzo practically purred into your ear as you rubbed over his shaft. He felt like velvet in your hands. When you flicked your thumb to spread the bead of precum over his tip, Enzo released an animalistic growl. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “Gods, I need to be inside of you right fucking now or I’ll die.”

There was no time to slide off your panties. Enzo merely yanked it to the side and guided you over him. He kept his eyes on you as you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch. Enzo groaned, digging his fingers into your hips while you adjusted to his size.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet and so fucking tight.” 

You had no idea that such filthy words could sound like music in your ears. Enzo may have been sweet as sugar, but you knew that he wasn’t innocent. He was far too cheeky to be anything but downright dirty in bed. 

Enzo was also extremely responsive. He made sure to praise and worship like your body was an altar and he was the most pious believer. 

“Enz, gods,” you moaned as he flicked his tongue over your nipple. “You’re really good at that.” 

“Yeah?” He asked cheekily. “You think so?” 

You chuckled. It was such an Enzo comment. If you weren’t actively losing your mind, you might’ve rolled your eyes at him. Whatever fantasy your mind has conjured paled in comparison to reality. Sex with Enzo was easy. You knew him and you trusted him. It was like breathing air. 

Every moan and whimper only helped you grow more and more attuned with each other’s bodies. The sounds you made were a special language of its own, one that only you and Enzo understood.

“That’s it, princess. You’re taking me so well.” 

“Like that?” you asked, rolling your hips. 

Enzo groaned in response, which made you smirk in satisfaction. He chuckled and kissed you deeply. “Ride me harder, sweetheart. Fuck…yeah just like that.” 

He moaned into your mouth, meeting the roll of your hips with thrusts of his own. Enzo pressed his forehead against your, his long lashes kissing the tops of your cheekbones while he pressed you closer. The deep angle in which he drove into you had you clawing at his back. 

“Oh gods, oh fuck. I can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl. You’re gonna cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”

“I’m so close.” Enzo flipped you onto your back and fucked you into the mattress. The tension uncoiled in your core until you were panting, chasing after that sweet release. “Oh—oh gods, Enzo.”

The orgasm knocked the very breath from your lungs. It was a total out of body experience. Your back arched, your toes curled, and you screamed his name, but none of it registered past the pleasure of coming. As soon as Enzo felt you creaming him from base to tip, he came too. 

It was strangely beautiful to watch. Enzo was mesmerizing. With his sweat slicked skin and swollen lips, strands of his dark hair clinging onto his flushed cheeks. You’ve never seen such a pretty sight. 

The two of you stayed curled up into each other. Enzo slowly pulled out and placed a tender kiss on your temple. This time, there wasn’t a single hint of hesitation as you cuddled up against his side. He was warm and comfortable, lulling you into sleep as he tangled his long legs with yours. 

You didn’t know how long you drifted off. It only felt like a few seconds later when you found yourself on your stomach, blinking sleepily up at Enzo. He smiled, kissing along your spine as he pried your legs apart. You groaned into the pillow as he thrusted lazily from behind. 

It was dark as night outside when you were finally done. You couldn’t even remember how many times he made you cum. All you knew was that you were in complete bliss as you and Enzo sprawled out on your sheets. 

You looked up at Enzo. He looked down at you. The two of you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.

“Shit. Did we just—“

He nodded, curling a strand of your hair through his fingers. “Yeah, we definitely did. Two. Three. Four times? I honestly lost count.” 

You chuckled softly. There was a moment of silence as you collected yourself. Enzo lowered himself down so that you were facing each other. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl.” 

Despite your steamy activities, you had never felt more shy than when he brushed his lips across your knuckles. 

“I care about you, Enzo and I know you care about me too. Tonight was….fuck. Tonight was great. I just want to make sure this doesn’t change our friendship.”

“Of course it’s going to change things,” Enzo said matter-of-factly. “You think I can stay just friends with you after that?” 

You swallowed thickly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. I know you don’t really date. I mean, half the school’s asked you out and you’ve turned them all down, so I’m not expecting to be the exception. It’s alright if you just want this to be casual.”

“I don’t. I’ve said no to everyone because I’ve been waiting for you. You are the exception, Y/N. It’s always been you.” 

“Really?” you whispered, biting back a smile. “You mean that?” 

Enzo nodded and kissed your fingertips. “Sweetheart, you’ve had me in the palm of your hands since we were eleven. Of course I mean it.” 

You didn’t try to hide your smile. You were absolutely beaming. “So you don’t want things to be casual?”

“There’s nothing casual about what I feel for you.” 

“Okay,” you said, processing his revelation. “I don’t want things to be casual either. It might be selfish, but I think I want you all to myself, Enzo.” 

He released a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking Merlin. I want you all to myself too, Y/N.”

[gabriellessworldd]

Never get yo bitch back!

plug!connie x black fem reader 😛😛

wc- 1.7k!

☆ warnings ☆: mdni! mentions of weed nd alcohol, smut 18+, cheating (established relationship w eren), public-ish sex (bathroom unlocked door), pnv, oral (f receive), Connie and reader have wanted each other for a min, first time writing ever don't drag me y'all pls!! 😓 I kinda want to make this have multiple parts but idk yet. I'm very open to criticism nd I hope y'all enjoy!

"Y/nnnnn, cmon you can come outside for one night!" Your best friend Sasha whined through the screen. As much as you protested, deep down you really did want to go out. Especially because Eren wasn't at home, you really wanted to talk to him since y'all haven't been doing so well recently. Petty arguments, sleepless nights, ig posts, and to top it all off he hasn't been to your house in weeks, not giving y'all anytime to have a conversation.

You check the time and see it's 6:00pm that means you got at least 2-3 hours before you would have to leave. "Girl you right, send me the lo. What you wearin?" Sasha set her phone up to show you the outfit she picked out, "Girl that's cute asf!! Ima match you." Sasha helped you pick out an outfit (1 or 2) that resembled hers. "Okay Sash ima finish my hair nd makeup, lmk when yall otw there." "Bye N/n, i gotchu." Sasha hung up and you continued finishing your hair and makeup.

Once you were in your car you looked at the location, realizing that it was at Jean's house, meaning Connie would be there. There was something so attractive about Connie that you didn't know how to explain, he was just, mesmerizing. You knew you would never be able to approach him tho, him nd Eren had been friends forever, and that was a boundary you wouldn't cross. Nothing being crossfaded couldn't fix..

You pull in front of Jean's house and it's packed, you can hear the music from the street. You text Sasha that you pulled up and fix yourself in the car mirror. "We're waiting for you at the front N/n." You read Sasha's text and get out of your car. When you open the door Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, and some other girls greet you. You scan the crowd feeling a familiar stare, you turn to your right and see a crossfaded Connie Springer and his homeboys sitting on some sofas in the corner. Connie feels you stare back and smirks. 'This finna be interesting.' You think to yourself.

You make your way to the kitchen to take a couple shots, Sasha gets a blunt from Ony, and y'all head upstairs to light up. When the sesh is over you feel amazing, the music is blasting, you're having a great night, and you're a 10, what could be better? You and the girls head downstairs to go dance and enjoy your night. You and Sasha throw ass like there's no tomorrow and Mikasa is right there to catch it. You laugh and stand up straight when you feel the stare of those familiar hazel eyes. "Ima go grab another drink" you tell Sasha and she drukenly nods.

You walk up to the counter where all of the drinks are, "hey connie" you look at him, and smile. He leans in closer to you "wassup mami, you look good. shit, you smell good too." he smiles at you with all of his pearly white teeth and you notice his silver grillz.(#1, #2, #3) God he's so fine. The way his red eyes are hanging low, the smell of his cologne, and his pretty ass accent, triple homicide.

"Where yo man at tho? Thought he was gon come tonight." Connie's confused as to why Eren isn't at this party trailing you like a lost puppy, unless, y'all wasn't on speaking terms right now. He grinned at the thought "Oh um Ion really-" You stuttered out wondering why he would ruin a good conversation. "Nah you ain gotta answer mami, follow me." He held his hand out with a 'hm' and you quickly took it, needing to feel his touch. He lead you upstairs to the first bathroom he saw, he opened the door, "Tu vas primero hermosa" you go first beautiful. You smiled at the sentence and walked in front of him. His eyes naturally trailed down to the best view there was 'Damn.' was all he thought as he watched you walk and felt himself get harder in his sweats.

"So wassup?" You questioned him, almost like a challenge. You leaned your back against the counter and looked into his eyes. "To be honest ion wanna play no games ma, you know what I want." He leaned towards you, muscular and veiny arms on both sides of you, caging you in.

You could feel the tension grow as both of you realized just how badly you needed the other. "Can I?" Connie asks to kiss you 'and he's respectful omg add that to the list' you think, "Yes, you can." As soon as those three words came out of your mouth, Connie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his other hand quickly found your ass and squeezed, while your hands slid their way into his scruffy buzzcut. The kiss was passionate but it also had a hint of hunger, longing almost, like both of you waited your whole lives for this. Both of your tongues fighting for dominance, and both of you wanted, no, craved more from each other. Connie's large hand found it's way to your throat and he squeezed softly earning a light moan from you, Connie pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"Ay dios mio mami" oh my god Connie whispered. Connie littered bites and hickeys down your neck and exposed cleavage, not caring who would see. He tapped on your thigh, a signal for you to stand so he could remove your pants. He then picked you up and set you back down on the counter, he kissed the insides of your thighs and left a trail of bites. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded your head, he pulled your panties to the side. Connie was in a trance, the way your folds were so puffy, the way they were covered in wetness, connie almost came in his pants at the sight. "Fuck." was all he said before he began kissing and sucking on your lips. He spread them open with his middle and index finger, and could've sworn he saw heaven.

He plunged his fingers inside your wet hole, sucking on your clit while he pumped his fingers in you nice and slow. "Fuck con" you let out a soft moan, it was like music to his ears. He worked his fingers a little faster and curled them up grazing over your spot. "o-oh fuck connie mmhm, right there" He came up, bottom half of his face covered in your sweet juices "You taste so sweet, princesa" and with that he went back down and devoured you like you were his last meal. "a-ah mm con. That feels soo good" you whispered, feather light moans. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon mami let me hear you." he felt you squeeze his tongue and pull his hair, that was enough to let him know. He pushed his fingers back in and started pumping at an insane speed.

"Go ahead ma, let me taste all of you" Your thighs tightened around his head as you felt your high coming. "ah connie 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out louder than before, he curled his fingers again, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed. "Joder, eres tan deliciosa." damn, you're so delicious.

Connie stood up and your hands immediately found the band of his sweats and boxers, in one tug you pulled them both down. "Eager much huh mami? Well I expect you to take it all then." Your eyes widened at the statement but your thoughts were cut short when you heard him speak again. "Turn around for me mami, and don't take your eyes off the mirror." The dominance in his voice made you even wetter. You turned around towards the mirror and he slid off your panties.

He smeared his tip on your folds, collecting your wetness. Without warning he pushed his full length in, starting off with slow strokes. "Fuck mami, you're squeezing me so tight" You arched your back a little more and relaxed. He starts moving quicker and palms the fat of your ass.

Connie props one of your legs on the counter and smacks your ass. "f-fuck connie oh!" hearing you get louder, not caring if anyone could hear you, only riled him up more. He snaked his hand around your throat pulling your head up more so you could see what a mess he made of you. Your lip liner gone, mascara smeared on your damp bottom eyelashes, and a fucked out expression. Connie thought you looked perfect.

"Y-yes mami, take all t-this dick" you hear him stutter his calm demeanor fading away as he fucks into you at an unruly pace. "Ah! Con so good. i-it's so big" He smacks your ass again and continues fucking you.

He pulls out and you pout feeling empty "Calmate princesa." calm down princess He chuckles and flips you on your back then he pulls your hips closer to him. He pushes back into you, not wasting any time. Connie pushes your legs back a little more "Keep 'em right there ma." You hold the back of your knees with your hands, feeling connie's tip hit all the right places, Connie places a heavy hand on your lower stomach and he presses down. "a-ah con please! it feels soo good." You and Connie both feel yourselves about to cum.

"Con 'm about to cum! ah please Connie!" You can feel your thighs starting to shake, "g-go ahead mami, fuck you're so perfect. m-make a mess all over me." Connie rubs on your sensitive bud and keeps fucking you deep. You can feel a wave of pleasure wash over you and your vision turns white. "Ah! Connie fuck 'm cumming!" You yell, "f-fuck me too ma." You notice his voice falter and crack at the end, he sounds so angelic. He pulls out and hot, white, ropes coat your tummy.

Connie begins wiping off your stomach and he leans in to kiss you, but he sees something in the corner of his eye, almost like a, figure. "Shit" Connie says blankly, putting his pants back on. You scramble to put your clothes back on and turn to see Eren standing there looking pissed.

"what.. what the fuck is wrong with y'all?"

Whew chileeeee. y'all did I at least nibble or what 👀 but lmk if I should make this multiple parts, also give me title ideas!! lmk if y'all want to be tagged in the next parts! love u all nd I hope y'all had as much fun reading as I had writing this! (watch nb read ts #embarrasing 😰)

- with lots of love, gabrielle <3

[betweenstorms]

butcher!simon… he’s so husband… his big rugged calloused arms… you know how those men are… arms the thick and strong, veiny but not in a way a nurse/vampire would love, but in a way you can see subtle long bump of it through the length of his tattooed sleeve… my gosh. i despise going to a butcher shop bcs i'm sensitive to the smell and loud noises scare me but for butcher!simon ? i'd deliberately buy just enough meat for one day worth of my meal + extra portion to give to him the next day as i go for another cut of meat… i'd bat my lashes and sweetly ask "i want to make soup… which cut do you think will cook quickly ?" ARGH. and like use scrap bones and veggies to make cream mushroom soup at the end of the week and pack it nicely with fresh sourdough… and on thanksgiving of christmas i’d take it as my chance to ask “celebrating christmas with your family ?” as a way to invite him to my homeeee aaaaa 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

I love this so much anon! This is how I imagine the situation...

Part Two of What's Between Fridays (previous part) (next part) (masterlist) Butcher!Simon x fem!Reader

The scent of the small butcher shop never quite sat well with you.

It clung to the air, thick and metallic, mingling with the cold chill of the room. No matter how many times you stepped through the door, the sharp tang of raw meat always hit you, a sour note that made your nose twitch. And yet, you found yourself there almost every Friday afternoon, drawn by something far stronger—something that had nothing to do with the cuts of meat behind the glass.

Simon Riley.

He always stood behind the counter when you came in, broad and imposing. His bulky arms marked with the same ink that wrapped around his soul like a storm cloud, curling up his forearms like violent vines, disappeared beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his worn shirt. You had traced them in your mind a hundred times, wondering where they began and where they ended.

His presence commanded the room without a word, the quiet strength of a man who had spent years carving through flesh and bone. He moved with the ease of someone who knew his power but never flaunted it, his hands deft and skilled as they handled the cleaver with a precision that was almost artful.

You were never sure how to explain the pull that kept you coming back, your heart a little too quick in your chest every time he glanced up, those dark hazel eyes catching yours with an intensity that almost made your breath hitch.

Perhaps it was the way his silence spoke louder than words, the way he listened without speaking, as if he could hear the questions you didn’t dare ask. Or maybe it was the way his presence lingered, even after you’d left, a shadow that clung to your thoughts like the scent of the butcher shop clung to your clothes.

You came back that Friday afternoon too, the bell above the door chiming softly as you stepped in.

The air was cool and hard, and there was Simon—his name stitched onto the apron that hugged his broad chest. You murmured a soft hi as you neared the counter, your eyes drifting over the display, but you felt his gaze settle on you, intense and unyielding. His eyes were sharp, like the blade he held, cutting through your flesh and bones, leaving you exposed and raw.

“I want to make soup... which cut do you think would cook quickly?” you had asked him once, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking the heavy silence between you, your wide eyes filled with quiet devotion as you waited for his answer.

Simon’s head tilted slightly, those sharp eyes narrowing just a fraction, like he was studying you, as though your question held layers he hadn’t yet peeled back.

His hand moved to the display, selecting a small cut of meat with the same deliberation he used in everything.

“These'll do,” he said, his voice low, a rumble that seemed to fill the quiet space between you.

When he handed you the package, your fingers brushed his, and the warmth of his skin against yours was enough to send a shiver down your spine, despite the cold of the shop.

You took the package, your heart fluttering in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. For a moment, you stood there, unsure of what to say, but then his gaze softened, just slightly, and you felt the tension ease from your shoulders. You smiled, murmuring your thanks, the sound of his voice still echoing in your ears as you left, feeling the weight of his gaze linger on your back long after the door closed behind you.

Weeks had passed since then, and yet, like clockwork, you returned every week. The butcher shop had become more than just a place to buy meat. Visiting him, Simon, was a quiet ritual, one that you couldn’t seem to break. 

You hadn’t known how it started, but after a while, you began bringing him food. At first, it was just a small gesture—a way to thank him for the beautiful cuts he’d handpicked for you, the subtle nods and quiet exchanges that had started to feel more personal than professional. He always seemed reluctant, a slight hesitation in his movements when you handed him a carefully wrapped package of the food you had made. But he accepted it nonetheless, those hard lines in his face softening just a touch when your eyes met his.

As time went on, it became a silent exchange between the two of you. You’d bring him food, and in return, he’d set aside the best cuts for you—the most tender meats, the freshest products, pieces that were meant to be savoured. It felt intimate, in a way that neither of you acknowledged, but both understood.

And with each passing week, the quiet between you grew less suffocating, replaced by something that hummed just beneath the surface of your interactions—an attraction, a connection, but still undefined, still lingering in the unsaid.

Then came that particular afternoon.

You had made cream mushroom soup this time, the rich scent of it filling your small kitchen as you prepared the dish with more care than usual. The holiday season was approaching, and the streets outside had already begun to sparkle with festive lights, the world around you glowing with a soft anticipation. There was something about the air, something about the warmth that wrapped itself around you as you stepped into the shop that made you bold.

He looked up when you walked in, his hazel eyes meeting yours, and for a brief moment, the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you standing in the dim light of the shop. 

After exchanging your usual greetings, you handed him the small container of soup, your gloved fingers brushing his for just a second longer than necessary. And then, before you could stop yourself, the words slipped from your lips.

“Are you… visiting anyone during the holidays?” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper, the question hanging in the air between you. “I mean, celebrating with your family or…?” You winced at your own awkwardness, feeling the weight of the silence that followed. But you couldn’t stop now. “If not, I was thinking, maybe… you could join me for dinner this week? At my place.”

For a moment, Simon didn’t speak.

His eyes searched yours, unreadable, his expression as steady as ever, though you thought you caught the faintest flicker of surprise in those hazel depths. The rain outside tapped softly against the windows, filling the quiet space with its gentle rhythm, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for his answer.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze still fixed on you, and then, to your surprise, he nodded. Just a small tilt of his head, but enough to send warmth flooding through you, enough to light something in your chest that you hadn’t expected to feel.

“Okay,” he said, his voice low, a quiet promise whispered between raindrops.

You smiled, feeling lighter than you had in weeks, the weight of your nerves lifting as you took your package from the counter.

The cold winter air wrapped around you as you stepped out into the street, but it felt different now—like a secret you were carrying with you, a warmth that Simon had unknowingly placed in your hands.

[actuallysaiyan]

The Beast Inside Of Me(Incubus!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, AU, Incubus, demons, slight dub-con, oral(fem receiving), slight yandere vibes, creampie finish, mentions of passing out/fainting, vaginal fingering word count: 3.2k pairings: Incubus!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: Kento has been searching for his mate for a long time, and he finds out it's you. Incubi don't usually mate with humans, so he's desperate to make it work. a/n: not sure if it's the demon who possessed me or the Earthbound OST that made me write this, but here it is and I realllyyy hope you all enjoy!! Some dividers by @/benkeibear

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento

@seireiteihellbutterfly @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa

@darkstarlight82 @melisuh123. @galactict3a

@erebus-et-eigengrau @aomi04 @isabelzoldyck

@cinnamon-girl-writes @felixmr @typicalemo. @entirelysein-e

Want to be a part of the taglist? Join here!(Please have age indicator in bio!)

You’ve seen that handsome face before. In your dreams, where you thought you were just imagining things. But now that you’re awake and looking at the man(or so you think)sitting on the edge of the bed, you aren’t sure if this is just another dream or figment of your imagination. When he looks over at you, he looks so incredibly sad. The sorrow in his features is so apparent, you feel the sadness deep inside you.

“Are you…” your own voice scares you. “Are you real?”

He looks at you once more. His hazel eyes almost seem to glow in the darkness of your room. Then you see his wings expanding, creating an interesting shadowlike surrounding. Your eyes widen a little as he climbs out the window and you watch him fly away. You’re stunned by the sight.

Lying back on your bed, you try to calm your breathing. That was a dream, right? It had to have been. There aren’t handsome creatures with wings that just casually hang out in your room. That doesn’t happen. It really just doesn’t happen at all.

You pull the covers up to your chin, curling it in your fist. You think you’ll never be able to go to sleep again, but soon your eyes flutter shut and your mind is filled with the most pleasant dreams. 

When you wake up, you chalk it all up to some silly dream and being extremely tired. You go about your day like nothing happened. Meanwhile, the creature you saw in your bedroom is suffering in silence. He has finally found his human mate, which is you.

He’s suffering because he knows he could never court you properly. He’s suffering because he knows you would reject him if he were to approach you and explain the situation. He invades your dreams as much as possible because it’s the only way he’s able to see you and feel you and touch you and taste you…

Being alive for so long has its perks, but it also becomes so lonely. All the other incubi and succubi from his pack have already found their respective mates. And it’s a little rare for his kind to mate with a human. Kento wonders if he’s just destined to be alone forever. He feels that deep sorrow inside of himself. The same one that he felt when he realized it would take him a long time to find his mate.

Night after night, he’s been chasing after you like some lovesick puppy. He finds it so pathetic too. You could easily find someone better for yourself, and you don’t even know that someone like him is so deeply in love with you. Kento contents himself with just sitting on your bed and watching you sleep. Seeing him that night was a mistake and you shouldn’t have woken up.

The next night that he shows up, it’s only in your dreams.

The room feels hot and stuffy, but it’s pleasant. There’s a slight smell of a candle that’s been burning, and something like a cinnamon and nutmeg scent. It’s enticing and intoxicating. Your skin feels drenched with sweat. You try to open your eyes, but you’re feeling so sleepy and so tired.

“P-please,” you pant out.

Calloused hands caress you, removing the sheet that covers your naked body. You whine as you feel those same hands spreading your thighs. Soft touches from fingertips follow, creeping up your thighs. Then you let out a pathetic whimper when you feel something parting your soaked folds with expertise.

“Fuck,” you whine when you feel a wet, hot tongue pressing against your clit.

The feelings are intense. Your orgasm grows so fast, it hits you hard. You’re panting and moaning loudly, trying to grind against this tongue. But as soon as it appeared, faster did it disappear. 

You wake up the following morning wondering if that was truly real and with sheets that are still damp from your dreams. This time, you have a harder time chalking it up to a wet dream.

For Kento, he wishes he could keep the taste of you on his tongue forever. He’s never gone that far with you, but he’s very happy he did. He eagerly jerks himself off to the flavor on his tongue and the memory of your scent until it fades away. It makes him angry that he can’t have you committed to his memory forever.

So he gets a little more daring the next time he visits you. This time, it isn’t just a dream for you. It’s a real encounter with the demon himself.

He casts a deep slumber spell on you, but you are still reacting to everything he does. He takes his time to memorize you; tasting you heavily on his tongue as you gush. Orgasm after orgasm is pulled from you as Kento works your body with expertise. He knows what you like. He could probably bring you to orgasm with the smallest little nudge against your clit by now.

His eyes are glowing as he feasts on you. His cock is rock hard as he begins to rut against the bed. Nothing could be better than this. The room feels so hot and warm, but it only seems to add to your arousal and his. The smell of burning candle, cinnamon and nutmeg fill your senses, even while you sleep deeply.

Kento’s eyes roll back as he gets to taste your essence once more. If he could, he’d gladly drown in the flavor of you for all eternity. It’s not enough to keep visiting you in the dark of your bedroom at night. He needs you always. Now and forever.

So the night finally comes where he decides to see how you’ll react if he introduces himself to you. He sits on your bed, waiting for you to rouse from your sleep. When you do, you gasp softly at the creature at the foot of your bed. He leans closer, and you get a better look at him.

Sharp, angular features for such a beautiful man. Or…is he even really a man? He can’t be a man if he looks this good and has a tail and wings. He smiles softly, his cheeks lightly pink. 

“Have I frightened you?” He inquires, leaning in just a little closer.

Your senses are filled with the scent of burning candle, cinnamon and nutmeg. Your thoughts are filled with sensual memories. Something about this makes a throbbing sensation begin between your thighs.

“N-no.” You finally manage to answer. “Who are you?”

He smiles sweetly before reaching out to cup your chin. You get to look into his beautiful eyes. They shine so brilliantly for you. You don’t feel frightened at all, only confused and curious.

“My name is Kento,” his voice is so reassuring and soothing. “I am not here to hurt you.”

Something about that name makes your heart beat faster. You lean in closer to hear more of what he has to say. But instead of talking, he decides to kiss you. It’s so deep and passionate. He holds you close, his wings wrapping around you to keep you securely in his grasp.

“You are my beloved,” he finally whispers against your lips. “I have searched for you for a long time.”

Your eyes widen at the creature holding you. How could someone so beautiful have searched for you for so long? You feel so plain in comparison.

Almost as if he has read your thoughts, “You aren’t plain. You are the most beautiful thing on this earth and within every plane of existence.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. Your cheeks are redder than a tomato. You aren’t sure how anyone could think this about you. Kento cradles your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. He looks at you like you are the stars in the sky, the colors of a rainbow, a beautiful masterpiece hung on the walls of an art museum.

“How precious you are to me,” he says softly. “I could not say it in words.”

You allow him to lay you down on the bed. His lips are attached to your neck; sucking, nipping, licking and biting. To get that sweet taste of you, he is quite desperate. Everything about you is both beautiful and extremely enticing. He could never get enough of you, even if he made love to you a million and one times.

His hands are calloused as he caresses your body. He slips your pajamas off of you slowly, tantalizingly so. His eyes keep gazing up at you, making sure you know just how much you are loved. He couldn’t be able to continue if he didn’t know for sure that you are indeed enjoying yourself.

The moment his fingers slip against your folds again, you feel that same arousal from the other night. It begins to truly dawn on you exactly what is going on. He’s been the one to pleasure you all these nights, even the ones where you were dreaming.

You pull him in for another kiss; this time it’s sloppy because of how hungry you are for him. He grunts against your lips, his fingers still working at your greedy pussy. But he loves that you’re getting into it. You’re desperate and needy for him, which makes him so happy and very aroused.

“It’s been you this entire time,” you whisper.

He nods. “Yes, does this please you?”

You can’t even begin to think of the right words to answer that question. So instead you reach down and feel his cock through the skin-tight underwear he’s wearing. He moans just for you and you love the sound. You love it so much, you wish to hear it forevermore.

Kento kisses you with a ravenous hunger now. The hunger that resides so deep inside of him as an Incubus is beginning to come to the surface. He needs to try and rein it in if he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you.

Tenderness returns to him as he takes a few deep breaths. He cannot show you the ugly side of him. It’s an animal, a beast that resides inside of him. It’s ugly and carnal and full of sin. And though he’s sure you’d still be able to find it in your angelic heart to forgive him if you were to see that side of him, he would hate himself forever if he were to harm you in any way.

“Please,” he moans softly. “Allow me to taste you once more.”

He spreads your thighs again, grunting when he sees just how soaked you are. You smell divine. Musky and yet so sweet. It makes his cock throb and painfully twitch. For an Incubus, he swears he’s falling into your trap instead of the other way around.

Your little heart pounds in your chest like the fluttering of the wings of a hummingbird. You reach down to push his hair out of his face, and this earns you another grunt from the man between your legs. You aren’t sure if he’s fully a man or he’s a beast, but either way you have come to accept him as your lover.

His tongue feels like warm silk against your folds. He licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, rendering you incapable of speech for a moment. You shudder from head to toe, and a small little gasp falls from your lips. You’re panting already and all he’s done is lick once.

“Oh, you’re so needy for me.” Kento purrs before he dives back into lapping at you.

Your toes curl as his mouth works you up to an exquisite orgasm. Your breath hitches in your throat as his mouth and tongue and lips stimulate you in all the ways only someone from your wildest dreams would be able to. As your body shudders and shakes, Kento grunts against your wet cunt. He’s hungry and growing hungrier by the moment. If he doesn’t pull away soon, you’ll see the beast inside of him.

Thankfully you tug on his hair to pull him away to avoid too much overstimulation. He looks up at you; his once hazel eyes have grown very dark. There’s a look on his gorgeous face that you can’t quite decipher. But soon, it begins to dissipate and you swear his pupils are in the shape of hearts just for you.

“My pretty lover,” he coos softly. “Please…” he swallows hard. “Please allow me the chance to make love to you. The privilege.”

Your eyes widen. How could he even be begging you? He was so beautiful, so handsome, so breathtaking. It should be the other way around. You should be the one begging for a chance to even look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to tonight, or really if you didn’t want to engage at all, I just want to—”

He’s interrupted by you pulling him in for another kiss. It’s mostly to shut up his insecurities right now. But part of you wants to taste yourself on his tongue and his lips. He grunts as he adjusts himself in his underwear. Your hands reach down to begin tugging them off of his perfectly sculpted body.

“It would be my privilege to make love with you.”

Those words make his head swirl with arousal and lust. His eyes are dark once more. He nips at your bottom lip, making you squeak in pleasure. Kento parts your thighs even more so that he can place himself between them. His underwear is all but ripped off his body.

“Eager for me?” he teases you before kissing you. “I’m just as eager, if not more.”

You sigh as you feel his hands guiding your thighs to wrap around him. The heft of his cock rests on your mound. Kento uses his fingers to open you up, making you drip all over the sheets even more. Slowly pumping them in and out and in and out…

“Just like that,” he coaxes. “Just for me. Open up, my beautiful flower.”

His words go straight to your head, but also straight to your throbbing clit. You’re more than aroused and ready for him, but the fact that he wants to take such care of you, it turns you on even more. It takes no time for him to slip his fingers out and replace them with the tip of his cock.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispers in your ear as he pushes more of himself into you. “And I’ll go slow.”

Slow is his pace. Gentle is his touch. You shudder as you feel him leisurely pushing into you. His eyes snap up and down from your face to your little hole trying to suck him in. His tail begins whipping in excitement. He knew it would feel good to finally be inside of you, but he’s having to take deep breaths once again to not lose control.

“My beloved,” he moans against your ear. “You feel heavenly.��

Your cunt spasms around him as he eventually bottoms out. His balls are plush against you and you finally get a sense of how pent up he is by how heavy his testicles feel. Your hands come around to rub his back as Kento starts up at a very loving and tender pace.

“Pretty, beautiful, exquisite…” he spouts off as he begins rocking his hips. “So warm, so wet.”

When you look into his eyes again, you see tears. He’s relieved but also so overwhelmed. He’s trying his best to hang on to the shred of sanity he has left. It’s so difficult when you keep squeezing and clenching around him. It’s all too much for him to keep going without losing a little control.

“Forgive me, beloved.”

You barely have time to comprehend what he means when he pushes your knees up to your chest. His hips begin to snap as he fucks into you harder, faster and deeper. Oh he is just so deep inside of you, you swear you can feel him in your throat. It’s all too much for you to even begin to understand. You cling to him as his cock rams into you over and over.

“Kento!” You gasp, trying to hold on.

He grunts and growls like a ferocious beast. Inside, he’s cursing himself for allowing himself to show you even just a fragment of who he truly is. His tail comes up to curl around one of your breasts. His head dips down to take the nipple into his mouth. He sucks on it harshly as he fucks deeper and harder into you.

“Need to fuck you,” he grunts. “Need to breed,”

His words are a bit of a shock, but you’ve been piecing parts of this together in your head this entire time. He, of course, is not a regular man. And the way he’s pumping into you now, you know it’s because something else is possessing him to do so.

Your legs begin to shake as his cock keeps pushing against that sweet spot deep inside of you. Stars speckle in your vision as your peak becomes imminent. It’s such a deep feeling inside of you. You can barely contain your moans, whimpers and sweet breathy whines. Kento tries to stop himself, but the more you squeeze around him, the less control he has.

“Going to breed you,” he growls. “You are mine.”

Every word is punctuated with a deep and harsh thrust. His balls rest plush against your ass every time he’s completely deep inside you. His eyes are growing darker. And the tail wrapped around your breast has now begun to tug a little bit on your nipple.

“May I…Can I…” He growls loudly. “Need to breed!”

It’s no longer a question. It’s a demand. A command for you. You are so willing to allow him this privilege. He never even told you the outcome of this coupling. You just wanted to soothe him and his needs, all while falling in love with this man; no, he’s no man. He’s a beast. A beast that you wish to tame.

“Cum,” you struggle to tell him. “Inside.”

He barely hears you, but something inside his brain clicks. It’s all that he needs to be sure that he is more than allowed to do this. Before either of you can register what’s happening, his tail wrapped around your breast squeezed harder. His wings come around the both of you, shielding you from the rest of the world.

With a loud roar, he begins emptying himself into your tight little hole. Shots of thick, potent cum spill deep inside of you. Kento reaches down to begin rubbing your clit in slow, tantalizing circles. A soft gasp escapes you as your orgasm hits you hard. Your legs are shaking and your heart is pounding harder than it ever has before.

You feel your vision beginning to tunnel…

You awaken several hours later. Your hole is sore and abused, dripping thick cum. You’re disoriented as you try to understand what is happening. Kento isn’t here, but his scent lingers on everything. You look at the nightstand and notice a bottle of water and a piece of paper folded in half. You take a drink of the water and then you unfold the paper. It’s a note from your otherworldly lover.

See you this evening. Same time as last night. Be prepared, my love. I have lots more to show you.

Xoxo,

Kento.

[ebbpup]

posting about this au cause i like it

more about it under here

timeline time!!

(This part is also like, a headcanon for the canon timeline) so wanda and cosmo leave for vacation, its pretty soon after they stop living with timmy, so maybe when peri is 9-10. they leave him in the care of Cosmo's parents, however it can be difficult for them so other fairies (probably some of the main ones we see outside of the family) would look after him. there were lots of expectations set on him due to how powerful he was at birth and his family history so he always pushed himself to do as good as he could! He even got a scholarship into a really good school!

now, here is where the timeline diverges, while for the canon timeline, Peri keeps trying, gets into a good college/university, becomes a fairy godparents, ect. ect. but not here, when he's about 16 he's tired of all the pressure put on him, he wants out, he envies the humans and wishes he could have a life like that. so why doesn't he? he packs his stuff and leaves. he's figured out how to give himself more human proportions but he has to wear a beanie and a jacket to hide his wings and crown. he manages to find a new family (he says his bio parents are dead), goes to a normal school and starts living a normal, "human" life.

eventually he is able to move out of home and into the apartment complex along with 3 roommates (will design them soon, probably). he gets into college/university and is able to do an online course (of what? idk). his life is good! he hasn't seen anything magical in years! nobody knows where he is (they are aware he is missing in fairy world but have no idea where he could be, not even Irep [or, still Foop since he doesn't know that Peri changed his name] knows where he is)! everything is good. everything is peaceful.

he has no idea that his parents have moved in a floor below him, he only finds out once he runs into the new family in town. Peri bumps into Hazel in her family, that's where the first comic takes place. They keep bumping into him and decide to invite him over for dinner since he seems like such a nice guy and has been very welcoming, Hazel suggests that they invite Wanda and Cosmo too since they've also been very welcoming and they decide, sure why not! By this point Hazel knows that Cosmo and Wanda think that Peri might be their kid since they have told her, and she's gonna give them the opportunity to talk to him! The dinner is a nightmare for Peri, dodging every single question that could reveal his identity, they can't know that he's their son, he can't go back to fairy world! luckily Hazel's parents don't really leave so they can't ask him directly, but the questions do get close. eventually the dinner ends and he can go home.

Que his parents constantly looking for him and Peri hiding, so many occasions of them just missing him. They've probably told others in Fairy World about how they've found him, even Irep finds out (who is now pissed at the name change). So eventually not only is he hiding from his parents, but sometimes others will also try to find him because like dude you went missing as a teenager of course they are looking for you.

also, Peri needs a job and gets hired as a babysitter to look after Dev. Dev and Hazel becoming friends is a nightmare for him.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 17

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Suicide character.

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Author Note: After this, you will hate Steve more.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Historic Victory! Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes Elected with Record-Breaking Votes."

You stood among the crowd in awe, feeling the gravity of the moment as Bucky stepped up first to take his oath. His right hand rested on the Bible, and his voice was steady, resonating across the packed hall and through the media broadcasted nationwide.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion.”

He glanced at you briefly, pride mingling with disbelief in his eyes as he finished, “I pledge to faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter, so help me God.”

It was almost surreal, watching Bucky stand here, on the cusp of history. You could hardly believe it. He had done it; he was now the Vice President of the United States.

Then came Steve’s turn. He took his oath with an unwavering focus, his voice rich with conviction:

“I, Steven Grant Rogers, do solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

As Steve finished his oath, the crowd erupted into applause. He stepped forward, eyes fierce with resolve, and gave his inaugural speech. "Today, we embark on a new journey,” he began, his words confident and calculated. “I promise to carve out every rotten part to make this country stronger and more flourishing than ever.” The crowd cheered wildly, the energy of the historic day surging through the masses.

Standing close to Bucky, you leaned toward him and whispered, “I hate him.”

He gave a small, amused smirk, clearing his throat as he pulled you closer, his arm draping protectively over your shoulder. “Stay calm, dear,” he whispered back. “We don’t want your bitter expression captured for posterity.” He pressed his hand gently against your back as you both moved through the crowd.

Across the room, Peggy watched the two of you, noting the way Bucky’s hand never left yours, even when he greeted others. The warmth and easy familiarity between you were evident to all. Peggy, however, stood isolated beside Steve, even as every camera focused on them as the new First Couple. She was now the First Lady, yet she felt utterly invisible.

Because in Steve's eyes, he only looked for Hazel. She remembered the disappointment on his face when he learned that the woman and the little boy were not joining him for the inauguration.

Then Caroline Barnes and her husband Julius approached her, their expressions triumphant. Caroline, with a rare, large smile, was the first to speak. “Congratulations, Peggy,” she said, her tone sweet yet cold.

She’d been Peggy’s confidante for years—long before the politics, the campaigns, and all the layers of public life that followed. They shared memories that went back to the days when they were just two young women navigating life and love, laughing over coffee and late-night conversations.

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline’s rare smile as she looked at you next, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. The silent message was clear: you had fulfilled your promise, standing beside her son as the Vice President’s wife.

Bucky, noticing her cold glare toward you, leaned in and murmured, “Seems like you’ve won her over.”

Just then, Natasha, a familiar figure in her sleek Secret Service uniform, approached you both. Her tone was clipped and professional. “The President would like to see you,” she said, giving you a pointed look.

You felt Bucky tense slightly beside you. As you moved to follow Natasha, Bucky instinctively stepped forward too.

“Alone,” Natasha added, her gaze shifting to Bucky.

You exchanged a confused look with him, both of you uncertain as to why you were being called without him. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. With one last glance, you followed Natasha toward the Oval Office.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Oval Office was imposing, vast and elegant. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room, yet the weight of history and power was palpable in every corner. The walls were lined with portraits of past leaders, and every polished surface seemed to reflect Steve’s ascendant status. He stood before the massive, iconic desk, hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of unyielding authority. In this space, he looked like a man who could command nations—a conqueror with the world at his feet.

As you entered, Steve turned, offering you a polished smile that held no warmth. “I imagine you’re wondering why I wanted you here alone,” he said, voice smooth yet laced with an edge that left no room for misinterpretation.

Your thoughts were racing. Being in this room with him—Steve Rogers, the man who had climbed to the highest seat of power while leaving a wake of destruction in his path—felt surreal. You could feel the walls closing in, every inch of the Oval Office amplifying the cold reality of his ambition.

Steve raised a single finger, his tone shifting to one of playful scorn. "Not once did you congratulate me." He let the silence hang, watching you. "I know why. You blame me for your friend’s death.”

Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms as his accusation hit you. “So you admit it?” you shot back, unable to mask the tremor of anger in your voice.

He scoffed, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “Admit it? That man almost sabotaged the campaign. He betrayed you, and when he paid the price, I’m the one you despise? Most people would thank me.”

The words stung, each syllable a twist of the knife. He continued, almost mockingly, his voice lowering as he leaned slightly forward. “Are you sure you’re up for this fight?” His gaze sharpened, piercing. “Find a better reason to hate me.”

Every word he spoke grated against you, each line deliberately crafted to sting. But you swallowed, forcing yourself to keep your expression steady, refusing to let him see the turmoil swirling inside.

He shook his head, dismissing your anger with a faint chuckle, then leaned back against the desk. “What’s your plan, then? After you bring me down—let’s say you even succeed—what’s next? Do you want Nate to grow up with a criminal for a father?”

Your mind raced, the walls of the Oval Office seeming to close in even further as his words lingered in the air. Steve's gaze was fixed on you, measuring, calculating your silence. And then, as if sensing your hesitation, he gave a triumphant smile, his voice like velvet but colder. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

He turned his back, leaving you standing there, stunned. 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Four Months Later

You sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the TV as Steve’s face filled the screen. Every channel was the same, broadcasting praise for him, with pundits and newscasters barely containing their admiration. It was unsettling. The media, usually fierce in their critiques, seemed almost reverent. You clenched your jaw, your annoyance simmering under the polished surface of his televised speeches and the careful flattery of his supporters.

From behind you, Bucky spoke up, his tone casual yet knowing. “That’s why people like him,” he said, coming closer. “He never once said he’d make this country fair or just. But he’s proving himself, little by little.”

You looked up, catching his serious expression. He continued, “Steve knew that every leader who vows fairness and justice ends up being despised as soon as they’re in power. They turn into exactly what they swore they’d destroy.”

You couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “So… can we abdicate him?”

Bucky laughed softly. “Abdicate Steve?” He smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Honey, that’s a little extreme, even for you.”

“Steve’s ascension was legitimate. He fits the role, and from what the surveys say, voter turnout was historic.” He paused, meeting your gaze with a measured seriousness. “Overthrowing him would shatter public trust—not just in him, but in the entire government.”

“Would it, though?” you asked, challenging him with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky sighed, crossing over to sit beside you. He rested his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t focus on Steve alone—consider what my position means now too. I’m still seen as ‘the new kid,’ the one who made it here because of him. Plenty of people are watching, eager to see me stumble.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the determination there, but also the caution. Bucky knew the stakes, perhaps even more than you. You could feel the weight he carried, the delicate balancing act of supporting Steve while laying the groundwork for his own ambitions.

He took a deep breath, leaning closer, his voice low and resolute. “People may believe in me, but if we move too fast, we’ll lose them. And I won’t let that happen. I know you believe I could make a good president—and I plan to get there. But…” He paused, looking into your eyes, “we have to be patient.”

You remembered the priest’s words: ‘Believe in God’s timing.’ Patience, the one thing you struggled with most in a situation like this. But you trusted Bucky. You could feel his strength, his restraint, his understanding of the game they were all playing.

Bucky’s gaze softened, but his words were firm. “To succeed, I have to publicly support Steve, at least for now. In politics, loyalty and trust are everything. We need them on our side.”

As you processed his words, a chilling realization sank in. Steve’s mocking question echoed in your mind: “Are you sure you’re a match for me?” He was right—his plans were meticulous, every move calculated for safety. And Bucky was right too. This was a game of patience, timing, and subtlety.

But the question remained: Who would be powerful enough to finally bring Steve down?

🌸🌸🌸🌸

At the White House, Peggy approached the front entrance, only to be stopped by two Secret Service agents, their expressions impassive.

“I'm here to see my husband,” she said, her voice firm, though a tremor betrayed her unease.

One of the agents cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You don’t have clearance to enter.”

She blinked, the words sinking in like a slap. “Excuse me? This is my husband's residence. I have every right to be here.”

The agent’s face remained unreadable. “I understand, but orders are orders. Mr. Rogers specified… no access.”

Humiliated, Peggy took a step back, heat rising to her cheeks as a cold realization struck her: Steve was truly keeping his word. She was being kept out of his life, and now, out of his home. She turned, bitterness flooding her chest, and started down the steps, fighting to keep her composure.

As she walked toward her car, laughter drifted from the garden. Curiosity sparked, and she moved toward a nearby window, peeking inside. There, in the garden, was Steve, laughing as he played with Nate, while Hazel sat on a bench, watching them, her smile soft and warm.

The scene twisted like a knife in Peggy’s heart. They look like a family.

She clenched her fists, forcing down a surge of fury and grief. In a voice barely more than a whisper, she asked the guard at her side, “How often do they come here?”

“Every weekend, ma’am,” the guard replied softly.

Her voice cracked as she stammered, “D-Do they… stay the night?”

The guard’s silence was enough, but he finally nodded, “Yes.”

The words struck her like a blow to the gut. She stays here? She sleeps in the White House? Peggy had never once been allowed to spend the night here, but Hazel—Hazel could? The injustice stung in a way that words couldn’t capture.

On her drive back, the scenes replayed over and over, thoughts like poison seeping into her mind. She remembered a press conference where Steve had passionately pledged to support local manufacturing, calling out Hazel as a shining example.

“Like one designer, Hazel Barnes,” he had said, the admiration in his voice unmistakable. “She’s the kind of woman who understands her privilege and uses it to lift others up. Her business is 100% local, supporting homegrown talent. If we had more people like her, this country would thrive.”

The memory burned, the admiration in his tone a raw wound. Not once had he praised her. Not when he was in the military, not when he became governor, not when he ran for Senate, and certainly not now, when he was president. Hazel was now his example, his ideal, the woman he chose to highlight.

By the time she finally reached home, it was close to midnight. She entered the house in a daze, weary from her own broken heart. Yet despite the pain, she clung to her duties, driven to exhaustion by a schedule that seemed never-ending. As she set her bag down, her assistant approached her, offering a warm, sympathetic smile.

“The twins had a good day today,” her assistant said softly. “They finished their study sessions and met with the psychiatrist. They’re making great progress."

Peggy’s tired eyes softened at the news. “Thank you. That’s… that’s wonderful.” She gave a slight nod, the smallest glimmer of peace settling in her chest.

Quietly, she made her way to the twins’ room and opened the door to find them still awake, caught in the glow of a handheld game console.

“Hi, Mom,” one of them greeted her, quickly hiding the console behind his back. Both boys looked at her with guilty smiles, expecting a reprimand.

But instead of scolding them, she stepped forward, placing a soft kiss on each of their foreheads before wrapping her arms around them in a rare, tender hug.

“Mom?” they asked, voices laced with concern as they took in her weary expression.

She managed a small, tired smile. “I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

One of the boys squeezed her hand. “Take a hot bath, Mom. We’ll make you some milk with honey.”

The gesture nearly brought tears to her eyes. “Thank you, boys,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “Thank you so much.”

They left, shooting her worried looks over their shoulders as they went downstairs to prepare her drink. Peggy moved into her room, slipping off her heels and sitting at her vanity, removing her makeup with slow, methodical movements, as though going through the motions might somehow soothe her mind.

A knock came at her door, and she turned to see the twins standing there with a warm mug in hand, faces bright with concern. She mustered a smile, taking the milk from them. “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. “It’s delicious.”

The twins lingered, watching her carefully, but after a moment, they seemed reassured. She looked the same as always—tired, maybe a little worn—but still their mother. With quiet “goodnights,” they slipped away to their room, leaving her alone in the silence of her own thoughts.

Peggy finished the drink, placing the empty mug down with trembling hands. She reached into her desk drawer, fingers brushing over an object she hadn’t touched in months. She pulled it out slowly, staring down at it for a long, heavy moment before standing and making her way to the bathroom.

She undressed and stepped into the hot bath, letting the warmth soak her weary body. But as the heat wrapped around her, it couldn’t reach the coldness embedded in her heart. She leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling, her mind swirling with everything she had once hoped for Steve, all the faith she'd placed in him.

He was supposed to be different. She’d thought that becoming president would have brought out wisdom and fairness in him, but instead, he clung to his principles, more ruthless than ever. Memories of the admiration in his voice when he praised Hazel flooded her thoughts, a contrast so sharp it was almost cruel. Steve had never looked at her that way, never spoken her name with that warmth, that pride.

For a moment, her mind drifted to Bucky and you, the loyalty he had shown you, unwavering, year after year. In the past five years, through everything, he had remained faithful, and you had accepted him fully, supporting him in ways Peggy could hardly fathom. She had never known that kind of love with Steve.

She looked down at her wrist, fingers tightening around the object from her desk. Her phone lay beside her, and she typed a short message before putting it aside. She traced the edge of the object against her wrist, whispering, “I’ll set you free.” Her voice was barely audible, fragile against the silence.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

At 2 a.m., Steve was pulled from sleep by the sound of his bedroom door opening. He sat up, irritation flashing in his eyes, ready to reprimand whoever had dared disturb him. But then he saw Natasha standing there, her face pale, eyes wide with urgency.

“Mr. President… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice tight, “but this is very urgent.”

A chill crept through him as her words seemed to hang in the air. He got out of bed and followed her, feeling as though he was moving through a thick fog.

Moments later, Steve found himself staring down at Peggy in the bathtub, her body pale and lifeless, the water around her a deep, dark red. His knees buckled, and he collapsed beside her, reaching for her, his arms wrapping around her as if he could somehow bring her back.

“Peggy…” he whispered, his voice breaking. He tightened his hold on her, feeling the unbearable weight of the silence that filled the room.

The twins, William and Charles, stood just outside, tears streaming down their faces, unable to fully grasp the scene before them. They looked at their mother, broken and cold, the life drained from her, and their father, on his knees, clutching her like a lifeline.

Natasha cleared her throat, eyes averted as she whispered, “Mr. President… we should make an announcement.”

Steve’s head snapped up, his eyes sharp and commanding. “Stop.” The firmness in his voice was absolute, leaving no room for argument.

The room fell into stunned silence.

“Tell the public that the First Lady has collapsed from exhaustion,” Steve said coldly. “She was tireless, supporting me without a moment’s rest. Now… she’s taking time to recover.”

The twins’ eyes widened, shock and betrayal mingling with their grief.

“Dad?!” William’s voice cracked, staring at his father in disbelief.

“It would be disastrous for this country to know that the First Lady took her own life,” Steve continued, his tone as unyielding as steel. “It would tarnish her memory. She’d be seen as unstable, weak. This is for her legacy, for the image she worked so hard to uphold.”

The twins shook their heads, voices choked with pain. “No. Mother isn’t like that. She’s not some unstable woman.”

Steve knelt beside them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders, his voice soft but unyielding. “Boys, trust me. This is for the best. We want people to remember your mother’s dedication, her strength. Not… this.”

He pulled them into an embrace, eyes glistening as he held them close, as if his grip alone could silence their pain. Over their shoulders, his gaze drifted back to Peggy’s lifeless form, his expression unreadable. For a split second, a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips as he thought, Her sacrifice won’t be forgotten.

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[illyrianbitch]

One Summer — Part Eight

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: some sexually suggestive content, just friends on a boat and az and reader being down bad for each other.

Word Count: 3.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It had been eight days since that moment on the beach, since that kiss with Azriel that had profoundly shifted something within you. Many more had been shared since then, quiet ones on the balcony at night, stolen ones in the house when the others would disappear around the corner. While neither of you had voiced it aloud, there seemed to be a mutual understanding that what was between the two of you, whatever that was, would stay just that— between the two of you. 

But you were struggling. 

You found everything Azriel did irresistibly attractive, found yourself constantly fighting the urge to kiss him, to touch him and run your hands through his hair. It was embarrassing how your heart fluttered around him, how everything he did made you melt. Whether it was the way he brushed his hair back or something as simple as what he was doing now: cutting fruit and packing it into a container.

You leaned over and snatched a piece of pineapple. Azriel tried to swat your hand, but you were quicker, bringing the sweet fruit to your mouth as you settled back into one of the barstools.

"No more," Az said with a feign serious expression. "These are for the boat. Feyre's orders."

You gave him a mischievous smile and Az shook his head, realizing that any attempts at authority were futile. You slid off the stool, walking around the counter to stand next to him. The faint scent of his cologne drifted into your senses and you fought the impulse to bury your face in his white shirt and inhale deeply.

"I've been thinking,” you began. 

Az raised a brow, offering you a quick side glance before he continued cutting the pineapple before him. "You're always thinking."

You cracked a smile. “I’m actually glad we didn’t kiss at Summit."

Az ceased his movements, placing the knife down carefully as he turned to face you with a slight frown. "Why?"

You gave him a look. "I mean think about it, Az. Did we really want to have our first kiss while I was wearing a shirt that said ‘I made your dad a bottom’?”

The corners of his lips twitched upwards. A few seconds later, he smiled, a small laugh escaping through his teeth. "That fuckin' shirt," he said, amused. He quieted for a moment, eyes running over you in a contemplative motion. "I think it would've been perfect.”

You frowned. "Really?"

After sharing your first kiss, you found yourself thinking back to every single moment with Az, noting the smallest of details you never bothered to think hard about before.  It was almost laughable to think you’d almost convinced yourself that you were delusional about this crush of yours, that Azriel didn't reciprocate those feelings. You could’ve been together even sooner. 

But what you'd just told him was true. You were beyond grateful that your first kiss happened the way it did. You were sure Az was, too. But he enjoyed messing with you— and he'd gained more confidence in it over the week.

Az nodded, a smile still playing on his lips. "Hell yeah. Humor like that is attractive."

A flush rose to your cheeks. “So you think my humor is attractive?”

He grabbed your hands and pulled you to him, interlacing your fingers as he looked at you. Really looked at you. "I think you’re attractive,” he murmured.

The flush deepened, spreading warmth across your skin. You tried to come up with a witty retort, something to brush off the way his words made your heart race, but nothing came to mind. You smiled at him, a sudden shyness creeping up on you as you looked down at your interlaced fingers. 

"Did you know," Az said, pulling you even closer. “I always told myself I couldn’t like someone funnier than me.”

You met his eyes again, the hazel color glowing in the sunlight. It was pouring in from the window behind you, giving you a clear view of all of the colors mixed into the golden brown. 

“What happened?" You squeezed his hand. "Am I just worth breaking your rules?”

"No, we got lucky," Az said with a casual shrug, his smile widening into something more mischievous. “I mean, it's a close call, but I’m still funnier. Good thing, too, because it would've been a shame otherwise.”

You scoffed, your mouth falling open in mock offense. Azriel's grin stayed plastered to his face. You attempted to pull back from him, to take your hands out of his hold and make a dramatic, joking spectacle, but Az didn't let you. His grip on you tightened, still gentle, but firmer, keeping you close.

“I’m way funnier than you," you huffed. You tried your best to keep a stern face, a look of betrayal. But the corners of your lips twitched upwards, anyways, and Az caught onto it immediately.

"Funny-looking, maybe."

Another scoff, a sound that bordered a gasp, left your mouth. “Oh really?” 

He nodded in challenge. You leaned forward, tilting your head up to him with narrowed, scrutinizing eyes. He raised his brow at the movement. “Because I seem to recall you thinking otherwise. What were the words again…that I’m always beautiful?”

Azriel chuckled, the sound low and warm as it washed over you. He shook his head with a playful eye roll, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

"Yeah that's right. I have a good memory too," you said matter of factly.

Az guided your hands to his waist, and you instinctively drew closer, your arms encircling him as if it were second nature. He cradled your face gently, tucking away the stray hairs that had escaped your ponytail behind your ears.

His voice dropped to a soft murmur. "Alright," he said. He reached out, brushing a thumb across your cheek in a gentle, almost absent-minded gesture. "Maybe you're funnier."

Your heart fluttered, and for a moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of you.

Until you heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

You separated quickly, Azriel managing to place a quick, sweet kiss on the top of your head. By the time Mor turned the corner, Az was back to cutting the fruit and you were standing beside him, the small of your back pressed against the kitchen counter as you leaned against it.

“Hey, guys,” Mor greeted, her eyes darting between the two of you with a bright smile. Her gaze settled on you. “Wanna help me pack the car?”

“Yup,” you replied, pushing off the counter. You managed to swipe another piece of pineapple from the container as you followed Mor out of the kitchen

Azriel let out a sound of protest. You flashed him a grin over your shoulder, the sweet taste of victory—and pineapple—on your tongue.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Whoever said money couldn’t buy happiness might have been wrong. Because money bought Rhysand’s family this boat, and this boat, drifting in the middle of the open ocean, was bringing you a kind of happiness you’d never felt before. 

You breathed in the fresh, salty air, savoring the way the wind cooled your heated, slightly sunburnt skin—it was developing into a nice tan, you told yourself. Though Mor, with her endless supply of tanning oils, was shades ahead of you. It was Cassian, however, who had the deepest tan now, followed closely by Rhys and Azriel. The three boys were practically golden.

Azriel cutting fruit this morning was attractive. But Azriel shirtless, tanned, and helping Rhys drive the boat? It had been downright sinful.

“I love my life,” Mor said, a smile on her face as she adjusted her sunglasses. “I’m so glad we decided to go somewhere near the water. We could do this every weekend once we move. Imagine spending every Saturday out here, just us and the ocean.”

Feyre let out a content sound of agreement. 

A familiar twinge of guilt bubbled up inside you.  You needed to talk to Mor soon. Every day that passed brought more clarity that this group plan, that a gap year then law school, wasn't what you wanted. You wanted time to explore, to get to know yourself and your passions before diving into another commitment—and before taking on even more loans. 

You'd forgotten about your main stressor, about how you might destroy Mor's dream of staying close and living out those idealized post-college years together. You were sure all of them were bound to be disappointed, to be sad that you wouldn’t be around them. But Mor– Mor would be hurt. Maybe even betrayed all over again. You didn’t want to see that face again, the one she wore when you told her about you and Eris. 

It surprised you how easily you’d forgotten about that stress, how quickly Azriel had a way of distracting you, of making everything else seem far away. You hadn’t thought about your guilt in a week, hadn’t thought about your ex or the crushing weight that your future tended to hold. 

“Okay,” Mor said with a clap of her hands. “I think it’s time we get in.”

“Yes, please,” Feyre replied. “I already feel like I’m frying.”

Mor looked at her for a moment, narrowing her eyes in thought. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. “Five bucks if you pants Rhys. Just warn me before so I can look away.”

Feyre contemplated for a moment. Then a smirk equally as devious as Mor’s spread across her pinkened cheeks. “Deal.” 

Feyre turned to you.

“You’re not going in?”

“In a sec,” you said, holding up your bottle of sunscreen. “I need to reapply.”

She gave a nod of understanding, but Mor paused, looking over her shoulder. “Need help?”

You shook your head, letting her know you'd manage alone and watched as she and Feyre walked towards the back of the boat, held hands, and jumped into the cool, welcoming water. You wished you could stay in the moment with them just a little longer, but your mind had already kicked into overdrive, that small inkling of guilt opening a dam of stress. 

You let your thoughts wander as you reapplied your sunscreen, gaze unfocused on the clear horizon before you. Just as you let out a huff at the awkward angle of trying to reach your back, Azriel appeared beside you, his eyes meeting yours before they fell to the sunscreen bottle. Without a word, he gently took it from your hand. “Here,” he said. "I got you."

You gave him a smile. Azriel’s hands moved across your back, each press of his fingers sending that butterfly in your stomach fluttering.

The thought of how many others had felt that same warmth, the same tenderness, crept into your mind. A flicker of jealousy flared up—who else had he touched like this? Who else had felt the gentle brush of his fingers?

You shook your head slightly, forcing yourself to rein it in. It was silly, you knew that. But still, the thought lingered, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this moment was yours, that the feel of his touch was meant for you right now. There was no need to let those pesky insecurities ruin it. It had been four years since the first time you met Az, since that first crush developed. And here he was, sharing these moments with you now. That had to mean something— it did mean something, you told yourself. The past, and whoever happened in it between those years, didn’t. 

Azriel’s fingers dipped just beneath the strap of your bikini top, spreading the sunscreen along your warmed back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You felt a blush creep up your neck.

“Wandering hands there?”

His voice took on that familiar, playful tone as he responded, “You’ve been spending a lot of time in the sun today. I have to make sure you’re fully protected.”

You hummed. "Good thing I have you, then."

Azriel leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “And this bikini really suits you. It makes you look…” He trailed off, his fingers tracing a slow, light path down your spine. You shivered. Finally, he whispered, “Well, let's say it makes my mind wander.”

Your breath hitched. You’d always known that Azriel, when the moment called for it, could be as cocky and smooth as any of the boys. He got away with it because he was quieter, less assuming. But experiencing it firsthand, especially from a grown, more self-assured version of him, left you feeling boneless, like your knees would give out at any sly comment. This wasn’t the shy, hesitant Azriel you’d met freshman year—this was a man who knew exactly how to work you.

There'd been some moments over the past week, small kisses that quickly escalated into heated, heavy makeouts, but it had never gone further than that. A casual dry hump here and there had only left you both frustrated and wanting more. 

It was almost impossible to find those stolen moments with a house full of busybodies and nosy friends. And when you did, all you wanted was to savor every second with Az, to let those quiet, intimate moments stretch on without worrying about someone bursting in and demanding your attention.

To say that you were hyper aware of everything he did, of his touch and how close his body was, was a sore understatement. You turned to catch the grin he was trying to hide as he capped the sunscreen. He knew exactly what he was doing, enjoying this little game you’d both been playing—seeing who would fold first and find an excuse to steal a kiss. Before you could form a coherent sentence, Azriel leaned in and placed a soft, secret kiss on your shoulder.

And then voices called out your names. Az stepped back, a grin still on his lips, equal parts smug satisfaction and tender affection. “Better not keep them waiting, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Mhm. But I think you should sit down and take a minute. We're boating, not camping. You can’t be pitching a tent in front of everyone."

His brow furrowed, eyes momentarily flicking down to examine himself before a faint flush crept up his neck. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. 

One point for you.

You gave him a teasing pat on the chest and turned to walk away, but Azriel’s hand shot out, delicately gripping your wrist. He pulled you back toward him and then his mouth was on yours. Instinctively, your lips parted for him, a small moan leaving your lips as he slid his tongue in. You reached your hand up, fingers aching to tangle themselves in his loose curls. But before you could, Az pulled away, leaving you breathless and dazed as he flashed a triumphant grin. 

Another round of voices called your names, the sound of Feyre’s commanding whine reaching your ears.

“Y/n! You’re missing all the fun!”

Azriel gave a playful nod towards the sound. "It's rude to keep people waiting, Y/n."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You had no idea how your friends managed to swim for this long, how their limbs weren’t beginning to tire from treading in the water. You were back on the boat now, the towel beneath you already soaked from your earlier dip in the ocean. You stretched your legs out, letting them dry in the sun, and leaned back, closing your eyes for a moment.

The boat rocked gently and you opened your eyes to see Cassian climbing back on board. He shook off the excess water like a dog, then plopped down beside you with a sigh, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased, bumping his leg against yours.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him. “Maybe. You tired already?”

“Please,” Cassian scoffed, “I could swim circles around everyone here.”

You chuckled softly, sitting up properly to take him in. You scanned his face for a moment. “I actually do like your mustache, by the way.”

Cassian grinned, a spark of mischief in his hazel eyes. “Not to be cocky—” He paused, then corrected himself with a smirk. “Actually, to be cocky, I think I look fly as hell with it.”

“You do,” you agreed, the corners of your mouth quirking up. "Not the words I'd use, but you do."

“I got the Y/n seal of approval,” he replied, his grin widening. "Nice."

“You’re getting attached. How are you gonna shave it off?”

During one of his recent arguments with Morrigan, in which she'd brought up her disgust for his facial hair once more, Cass had told her that she'd only have to deal with it for another month before he'd shave it.

Cassian shrugged, running a hand over his wet hair. “I’ll rip the band-aid off, I guess. Cut my hair too.”

You frowned. Cassian's hair had been the same length for the entirety that you'd known him— apparently, it had been the same since he was a teen. He took great care of it, trimmed it on a schedule and used only the best products. It was strange, almost impossible, for you to imagine how he'd look like otherwise. You'd never really thought about what ROTC looked like for him, never really absorbed the reality that Cassian would be clean-cut and proper in a few months' time.

“Dress and groom standards?”

He nodded, letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. When school starts again, I’ve got to meet them. No more mustache, and my hair’s gotta be short.”

You studied him for a moment, his usual carefree expression tinged with something more serious. “But your hair is you,” you said softly.

Cassian glanced at you, his eyes searching yours. “I mean, it’s my look, but it isn’t me. I’m me.”

You nodded slowly. His words sunk into you, burying themselves deep in your stomach. You faintly recognized the feeling, knew that you'd think back on his words at a later time and analyze what they meant for you. 

Cassian always seemed to do that, drop some life-altering advice to you without even realizing it. He never got enough credit, you thought. For how smart he was.

“But actually,” Cassian continued, his voice dropping a bit, “I’m thinking of leaving ROTC.”

Your eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking out at the water. “I’m gonna.”

“But you’ve dedicated so much time to it."

You thought about your own situation, how you were terrified of making the wrong decision and wasting precious time— how that fear seemed to exist right alongside your relationship with Eris and whatever it was you now had with Az. That fear had existed for you for as long as you could remember. You always saw things through. Even if you were miserable, you pushed yourself. You wanted to prove that you could do hard things, even if those things didn't help you— because you'd already dedicated the time.

You fell victim to the sunk-cost fallacy more often than you cared to admit.

But Cassian wasn't you.

He only nodded. “And it was great for me then. It gave me structure, purpose. But… not so much now. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

He spoke so casually, so disarmingly so, that it didn't seem as if he was referring to something he'd been preparing since his high school days, something that was supposed to lead him to a very specific, very tailored future.

"It's that easy?"

Cassian turned to you with furrowed brows. "What? Leaving ROTC?" He shrugged. "Not really. I definitely have to go talk to a lot of people, see where it leaves me before graduation. But it'll work."

You shook your head. "No, I meant like… it was that easy for you to make a decision to leave?"

Cassian gave you a look, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if puzzled by your question, as though the answer was so obvious that he couldn't quite grasp where your perspective had diverged from his own.

"I mean, yeah," He replied. "Funnily enough I learned that from ROTC. Thinking over important decisions, and knowing how to frame them, is important. But also knowing how to make quick decisions in high-stress situations is equally valuable. The more you think, the more you overthink." He raised his eyebrows knowingly at you. "Wouldn't you agree?"

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I'm not that much of an overthinker."

Cassian snorted. "Please. You are, and you know it," he teased. "You and Az," he continued, shaking his head with a smile. "Always in your heads. How do you have so much to think about?"

"I got a big head, I guess," you quipped with a grin. "Size really does matter."

Cassian smirked, nodding in approval. "It sure does," he said with a suggestive wink, the mischievous glint in his eyes making you roll your eyes again. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he hoisted himself up and reached a hand out to you. "Cmon. The sea calls to you."

"Okay, Moana." You said with a laugh. You took his hand and he tugged you up with surprising gentleness.

"Y'know I love you, right?"

You blinked, taken back by the sincerity in his voice. Another smile blossomed across your cheeks. "I do,” you replied.

"Good." Cassian's grin widened and before you could react, he scooped you up in a bridal carry and tossed you into the ocean. 

You broke the surface, sputtering and wiping the water from your eyes. Cass was laughing, but your focus was behind him, catching sight of Azriel stealthily climbing back onto the boat. With a swift movement, he shoved Cassian overboard, earning a surprised yelp that echoed across the water.

“Where the hell did you come from, man?” Cass yelled as he came back up. 

Azriel shrugged at his question and his gaze fell to you. 

"Spy." You mouthed. He just grinned, shaking his head slightly before diving back in.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: reader is so me bc i, too, would become feral after finally kissing az. like that mf is soooo sexy doing the most casual things and he knows it. anyways this was a fun lil chappy of them and some sweet dynamics. reader is our resident overthinker and as someone abt to graduate college, she’s so valid

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

As always, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

[unconventional-lawnchair]

A Second Chance pt.1 {Blurb}

Poly!Marauders+Lily x Fem!Reader - Zombie Apocalypse Au

New Perspective Noah Kahan

Masterlist

Summary: You find a group of survivors who could really use your help}

Cw; Guns, death, animal death, hunting, cussing, minor character death, insinuations of abuse (reader is worried about Lily alone with the boys), Zombie apocalypse typical violence, reader is crushing on Lily, infants)

Wc- 2091

In the heart of the wilderness, there was a serene and tranquil grove. Tall, majestic trees stood like sentinels; their branches reached towards the sky. Dappled sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting a gentle glow on the moss-covered ground below. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the refreshing scent of earth and pine, it was getting later.

There was suddenly a sharp and ear-piercing shot that rang out. You lifted your head from the scope of the ancient rifle, looking across the beautiful thicket, and eyes falling on the limp body of your prize.

You had been at it for hours, avoiding the doe’s, knowing they had young hidden deep within the grass, much like yourself now. You stood up, lifting the bandana over your nose and hurried down the hill you were perched on. Pulling out your carvers knife as you got to work on the old buck at your feet.

“I'm telling you, it was a gunshot.” You heard whispers from behind you, the sound of fresh grass making way to footsteps. Two of them. 

You quickly packed your plastic lined pouch and turned around, training your gun on the approaching forms behind you.

“Fuck-”

“What did I tell you!?”

There were two men. Great. Men. This close to your hideout? You needed to make your next move count. You could let them go, and risk them coming back to find you. You could shoot them both now and waste your very limited ammo. You could escort them out of the area but that would waste a day of travel. She couldn't wait. Your eyes scanned over their figures. The first one you saw had long black hair, a thin frame, tattooed pale skin and seemed to be the more pissed of the two. Seemed to be the one who heard the gunshot too. The other one was definitely taller, he had thick brown hair and startling hazel eyes. He seemed to be more of a threat out of the two, with his broader build and definitely gave the impression he was in charge.

You turned your gun to aim it at the taller one. His breath hitched and they both stared at you in panicked fear. “Wait wait wait.” He quickly pleaded, hands up and taking a small step back. 

“Don't move or I'm pulling the trigger.” You threatened and he winced.

The black haired boy moved to step in front of him, but you cocking your gun seemed to knock some sense into him. 

“Please, please don't shoot.” He pleaded. “I have a son, he's only a few weeks old. We have two other men in the group who are bedridden and injured. My wife is still recovering. We can't risk it.”

His pleading made your heart stop. It was so familiar it made your body ache.

~~~

“Please, please don't shoot.” He pleaded with the men in front of him. The camp was ransacked and some of the tents were set ablaze.

You and Regulus had made your way out of the camp late at night. You were going out patrolling, unable to sleep, and as usual, Regulus didn't want you going alone. 

On your way out Barty joined you. So of course, Evan wanted to tag along as well. You attempted to convince them that one able bodied person should stay behind. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had just brought a beautiful baby girl into the world, so Mr. Granger was hardly focused on watching the camp. 

A few others were there to watch over as well, but it was a big camp, and they needed all the help they could get. Evan teased you for your worry, no one had even passed your location in days. He still, however, promised to stay close to camp with Barty to patrol. Leaving you and Regulus to walk along the outermost parts of the camp.

Regulus eventually headed back, you stayed out. You loved the idea that people were still growing their lives even in such a desperate situation. But God, that baby did not know how to shut up. She was precious, from a distance.

You regretted that night.

You regretted so much of it.

When you made your way back the smell of burning flesh hit your nose first. You had to hold back the bile in your throat. You had come to be familiar with the stench of rot, but not when it was set ablaze.

You ran to camp and heard the commotion. You were gone for no more than ten minutes, and the sight of the dead bodies of your friends around you would be permanently etched into your mind. 

You couldn't focus on anything through the chaos, until you heard Mr.Granger pleading. He had his hands up, standing outside one of the only standing tents left. You snuck around, taking in the situation from outside of your clearly useless walls. He was cornered, four men around him while one of them held the arm of Mrs. Granger like a vice, taunting her husband.

You made eye contact with Mrs. Granger and hers widened. You slowly reached for your gun and her expression shifted to pure desperation. She kept glancing at the tent and your heart fell. Hermione was still in there.

You took a deep breath and cursed. Hurrying to sneak behind the tent and cut into it from the back. You gathered what you could, what little you were able to scavenge from towns for Hermione as well. You heard two gunshots, but you didn't want to think about it. Quickly covering Hermione’s mouth with your hoodie to keep her cries muffled.

You didn't look back, running as far away from the camp as possible. You came back the next morning and eventually managed to find your own supplies and one of the several cars they seemed to have left behind. Worrying they may come back for it, you packed up what you could and left in the dinghy vehicle.

That was only a month ago.

~~~

You couldn't do it. You couldn't pull the trigger. You slowly sighed and lowered your gun, much to the startled surprise of both boys. There was a loaded silence between you three before you bit your lip. Looking down at your bag you gestured to the venison on the ground. “You can have what’s left. I can only carry so much.”

“W-what?” The black haired boy muttered out and the brunette seemed to lighten up at your offer. Eyebrows raised and mouth slack.

“On one condition. I want to know where your camp is. And.. I want to meet the mother.” You gestured to the deer again, as if to entice them, and the brunette narrowed his eyes in confusion but the other seemed to catch on. Giving a firm nod and walking over to the buck. You flinched heavily to the side so as to not be too close to him.

“What's your name?” The taller boy asked and you snapped your attention to him. You creased your brow in suspicion but, what could they really do with just your name?

“{Y/N}.”

“{Y/N}? Nice to meet you. My name is James.” He introduced and offered his hand, You simply stared at him and he cleared his throat and tried to play off the obvious rejection. “A-and this is Sirius!” 

Said boy, Sirius, finally managed to get the deer over his shoulder before gesturing in front of him for you. “I’d rather stay behind you.” You huffed and he gave a brief nod. Turning with a hmph as he steadied the kill on his shoulder. 

~~~

You quickly learned, in your brief walk, just how much James seemed to like talking. You were starting to genuinely believe that he wasn't a threat, but more wondering how on god's green earth he survived this long with a trap like that.

Sirius, on the other hand, was quiet for the most part. He would ask you questions to gauge how comfortable you were and how much you were willing to share with them. Mostly nothing.

When you passed by a certain stick standing in the ground, James gestured ahead. You peaked past him and saw the camp. 

It was decent, but exposed. A large tent you assumed housed all of them, with a table and a campfire, the set up even allowed for the most sight around them. It was certainly temporary. The thought comforted you, but the idea they were traveling with an infant made you nervous.

“This is all?” You asked in a not intentionally condescending tone.

Sirius brushed past you and walked into the center of the clearing, dropping the load and standing up with a stretch. The tent door opened and you fixed your grip on the rifle, James grabbing the barrel and lowering it, earning a glare from you. Out limped a rather tall boy. Tanned skin, scar ridden, messy sandy blonde hair, and a clearly mangled leg. You took a deep breath. 

Okay, they housed the injured and kept them around. The leader of the group was rather charming but that could go both ways. You needed to see the girl.

As if he could read your thoughts, Sirius spoke up and drew Remus’s startled expression from you. “Remus, can you get Lily?”

“She's reading to Harry.” Who you assumed to be Remus muttered and glanced back at you. Sirius shook his head. “Just a moment.”

Remus eyed you for a second before he peaked back into the tent and muttered something. Eventually, a tall red head stepped out of the beige shelter and she looked at Sirius, clearly annoyed. “What? I just got Harry down.”

“We have a visiter. Wants to make sure you aren't being held here against your will.” Sirius cheeked and you gave a glare his way, he simply winked back. Much more playful in his own domain.

“What?” Lily muttered and looked up at you. Your eyes locked for a moment and her jaw rolled as she sized you up. You suddenly felt extremely self conscious. Then, the most dazzling smile appeared on her face. “You wanted to check on me? How old are you sweetness?”

Her tone gave you such a rush of comfort you didn't even think before you spoke. “N-nineteen,” You whispered and she placed a hand over her chest and cooed at you. “You're just a baby. Are you alone?”

“No, not… not really.”

Merlin, her voice was like a siren song. Your shoulders went limp and the gun lowered. James gave a knowing smirk and Sirius looked offended at your compliance with Lily’s questioning. How does she do that?

“Shouldn't you be heading back? Someone must be looking for you.” She fretted and you tried to steady your breath. Remus looked between you two and slowly settled against the base of a tree with a wince.

“N-not yet, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You mumbled before you looked at James. He was smirking at you. He was smirking at you like your friend would in elementary before declaring he knew who your crush was. 

You snapped out of your trance and quickly took a few steps back. “Actually-”

Your remark was interrupted by a loud bout of thunder. You looked to the sky with the rest of the group and you heard a loud cry from inside the tent. You felt your stomach drop. You could care less about the boys, but you couldn't leave a week old child in the middle of a thunderstorm.

You watched as the tend opened again and a sickly, pale boy stepped out. He was taller than you with a bit of a belly, he seemed friendly to a fault, a small smile growing on his sleepy face. Lily walked over to him and picked up Harry with a thank you to Peter.

“We need to get to some serious shelter soon.” James huffed and you looked around at the worry on everyone’s faces. You finally let your morals win  over your common sense.

“I have a place.” You mumbled and Lily looked at you, startled.

“Honey, you really shouldn’t offer up-”

“I know, I know. Just..” You looked at Harry and Lily slowly smiled. She looked at the rest of the group and nodded. Peter seemed startled as he just noticed your presence, James seemed surprised just like Sirius. Remus seemed in distress, rubbing his leg as the storm grew closer. 

“We would love your help.”

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 4

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Masterlist)

Author’s note: I love this series and I want to thank everyone who comments/reblogs/likes. I love you all and it gives me so much motivation to keep working on this series 💕

Cassian limped out of his room, using the wall for support as he walked into the living room.

“Sweetheart, can you grab me the ice pack from the freezer?”

You and Feyre had been in the kitchen making waffles, but the two of you make your way over to Cassian to help him, abandoning the batter you were making. You grab the ice pack from the freezer and a hand towel to wrap around it, while Feyre walks over to help ease Cassian onto the couch, helping him prop his leg up on the coffee table.

You place the ice pack on his knee, grabbing a throw pillow and placing it under his leg.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You ask, concern etched onto your brows.

He sighs, “just my knee flares up if I do too much, and I got a little ambitious with the girl I hooked up with last night.”

Feyre snorts as he waggles his eyebrows. You sit on the arm of the couch facing him, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Cassian leans his head back on the couch, “yeah can you grab my pain meds? They’re probably in my bathroom.”

You scuttle off after he tells you what the bottle looks like, walking through his room into his bathroom. You’re not surprised at how messy it is, clothes litter the floor and papers are strewn across his desk.

You can hear Feyre and Cassian talking but can’t make out what they’re saying as you begin your search. You search through his drawers and medicine cabinet, finding various medicines, condoms, and even pads, but not the bottle he described. The sight of the pads reminds you of a story Mor told where she had told Cassian she was on her period and his response was, “let’s get messy, baby.” You shake the memory away, heading back to tell him the bad news.

“Bad news bud - no medicine.”

He groans, “where the hell did I have it last?” He starts muttering to himself, hoping he didn’t leave it at the gym, when he points to you.

“It’s next door - Az has it. I stuffed it in his gym bag. Could you go check for me?”

Last time you saw Azriel, you had fallen asleep on his thighs, most likely drooling over them in your slumber.

You woke up to a dark room, the tv screen black with disuse. You lift your head, your hand using the pillow to push yourself up. You move your head to find hazel eyes looking into your own.

Your head is a few inches off his thigh, your hand wrapped around it for support.

“Um, hi,” you say, a moment later realizing your hand was on his thigh, quickly pulling it away. You take a quick moment to check the side of your mouth with your hand, praying to any god that will listen that you weren’t drooling on him.

“Hi,” he tells you, “you missed a good movie.”

“Rain check?” You ask, and he chuckles.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?”

“If you ask me, no, but if you ask my friend Feyre, the answer is likely yes.”

He laughs, and you realize his hand is in your hair, as he untangles your hair from his fingers.

“That’s okay. We’ll just have to keep watching it until eventually you make it to the end.”

“Uh, yeah, sure Cass.”

You start to leave, but Feyre grabs your arm. “I just told Cassian about how we’re going axe throwing. I invited him and his brothers.”

Feyre winks at you as she’s turned away from Cassian, and you give her a look.

Nosey busybody. All because you had told her you fell asleep on Azriel last night. And how he was so kind to help you drop the truck off. And how damningly beautiful he was.

Curse your big mouth.

“You should ask them if they want to come while you’re over there. Cassian’s coming, if they’ll find that enticing.”

Her words mean one thing, but her eyebrow waggling screams, I don’t think Cassian will be the reason one of them comes.

You wander over next door, knocking as you approach their door. Your mind starts wandering while you wait for a response, and you wonder if they used to always meet in Rhys and Az’s apartment.

Your thoughts still when Azriel opens the door, surprise on his face as he looks at you. He’s shirtless, his tan chest on full display, some black shadow-esque tattoos adorning his shoulders. Your eyes trace the design, roving over his muscular chest.

You want to lick them.

You shake the intrusive thought away, and Azriel grins ever so slightly at your blatant ogling of him. You tell him, “Uh Cassian’s knee is acting up and he said he thinks his meds are in your gym bag?”

He opens the door wider, letting you in. “What’d he do to mess up his knee this time?”

You follow him as he leads you into the apartment, your words dying on your tongue, “something about getting too ambitious with a girl - what the fuck?”

Azriel stops to find you staring at their tv, an absolutely massive screen mounted to their wall. It practically takes up most of the wall, and you imagine watching a movie on it would feel life-sized. “And I thought Cassian had the biggest tv I’d ever seen.”

Azriel chuckles, “they got drunk one night and started having a pissing contest over who was bigger, and it escalated to them both buying absurdly large televisions.”

He rolls his eyes at the memory of them drunkenly purchasing tvs online, forgetting about the ordeal until they appeared a few days later, Cassian refusing to use Rhys’s tv for a week in solidarity of his manhood.

You two start moving towards Azriel’s room, worry brewing in your mind over what to do. To follow could be overstepping, to linger could be weird. He leaves his door wide open, looking back to see if you’re following, so you decide to be brave and step through his door.

His room is dark, black out curtains with tiny moons sewn into them adorning his windows. His bed is neatly made, a deep blue comforter laying on top. Your eyes are drawn to the little bat stuffed animal that sits on his pillows.

His room is neat - dirty clothes kept in a hamper in the corner, books neatly stacked on his nightstand and on a bookshelf. He even has paper tray organizers on his desk.

His laptop is open at his desk, the screen still lit with whatever he was doing before you knocked. You see a familiar photo of you and Mor on the screen before it cuts to black, leaving you confused.

You shake the thoughts away, telling him “I like the little bat.”

He stills, looking over at the thing. His face falls a bit, but he quickly corrects it, going back to his search for the bag.

“Thanks, Cass got it for me.”

“That’s sweet,” you tell him.

You breathe deeply, the air in the room shifting, but you’re not really sure why. You don’t want this to be the end of your interaction with him, so you ask, “so Cassian told me you’re a personal trainer?”

He bends over to pick up his gym bag from the floor, your eyes roving down his toned back to the shorts that generously show off his thighs. Maybe you could join their gym if you got to see him like this, tanned thighs and chest on full display.

“Yeah, he helped me get the job, actually. I’ve been working a lot more over the summer, trying to save money for when classes are in session.”

You nod, as he finds the bottle in his bag. “Do you like it?”

He walks back over to you, escorting you out of his room. “S’okay. Cassian’s much better at it than I am, but it’s not hard.”

You nod, wondering how both of them are at their jobs. You can imagine Cassian being loud and rambuctious, a personality trait you can’t see him without. Shouting motivational words as you squat. On the other hand you can see Azriel being calm, quiet, his presence hardly noticeable as you train, offering occasional motivation but knowing what his clients actually need is just someone there.

He reaches his hand out to give you the bottle, and you break your eye contact with him to grab it. His fingers brush over your hand, electricity crackling on your skin from his touch.

You look at his hands, noticing them for the first time. Covered in scars, the skin is scarred over, the texture rough and uneven. His touch is soft and warm, a contrast to the harshness of his hands. You don’t let your eyes linger on his hand for too long, worrying you’re invading his privacy.

You duck your head down, fighting the heat on your cheeks from his touch. If he notices, he doesn’t let on as you pull your hand back with the bottle, uncertain how long your hands had been in contact.

“Thanks I um, Cassian will appreciate this.” You give him a toothless smile, one that he matches. His eyes have a look about them, but you can’t spend too long thinking about it, especially considering Feyre was likely conspiring with Cassian as you two spoke.

“I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before,” you say, reaching for the doorknob.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells you.

Your hand stills on the knob and you turn to look back at him. “Are you doing anything today? Around 3?”

He shakes his head no, “not really - why?”

“My friend Feyre and I are going to go to this place to try out axe throwing and I was wondering if you wanted to come with?”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you continue before he can reject you.

“Um Cassian’s coming, and Rhys is invited too if he wanted to come. It’s no big deal if you guys don’t want to - Feyre and I probably won’t be any good.”

He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear and he realizes you’re rambling. Despite how cute he finds it, how cute he finds you, he cuts you off. “I’ll come - I’ll text Rhys too.”

You smile broadly at him, a sight he’ll definitely be thinking about until he sees you again, “okay, um yeah I’ll uh see you then? You can come over to our place and we can all leave together.”

You’re about to leave again when you backtrack, “uh, come over at 2:30 so we can leave together. See you then!”

After you’ve left, he listens to your feet pad down the hall, and the door to the apartment next door opening and closing. He looks to the wall that separates your apartments, as if he can see you giving Cassian the medicine.

He trudges back to his room, furling and unfurling his fist, his skin hot from your touch. The image of you looking at his hands printed in his brain. You didn’t look at him in pity, perhaps the first person to do so. You looked at him like he was resilient, like he was more than what happened to him, like he was more than the scars littering his hands.

He lets the thoughts whirl in his brain as he logs back into his laptop, the screen lighting up with your social media pages he had been scrolling through. He tells himself it’s just to see who Cassian is living with and if she can be trusted, if she seems okay. He also decides if she happens to be seeing anyone is also pertinent information.

For Cassian’s safety, of course.

[mediumgayitalian]

previous

———

“Hm,” Piper says, fingers steepled. She looks very intently at the air in front of her. “Hm.”

Nico scowls impatiently. “Feel free to be helpful at any given time. Now, even, if you’re so inclined.”

“Have you considered that the reason you’re so infatuated with Will is because you may be blessed by Apollo?”

“I’m infatuated with Will because he is the physical manifestation of everything I value in a person,” Nico says automatically. Then he frowns, processing the rest of Piper’s sentence. “Wait, what?”

Nico understands his error as the grin on her face stretches into something truly grotesque. “I was going to make a joke about your drama levels, but thank you for that. I’m really looking forward to telling several dozen people and delighting in the knowledge that you’re going to curl up into a bundle of humiliation under your bunk tonight as you think about it.”

Instead of answering, Nico decides to walk away. Since there is so much blood concentrated in his skull, resting mostly around his face region, he takes two steps and begins to pass out, but luckily Piper has followed him and impedes a head injury by gripping his arm and merrily forcing him forward.

“So,” she says, steering them towards the amphitheatre, “what’s Plan B?”

“Bold of you to assume there was a Plan A.”

“You like Sunny Boy way too much to walk in there blind.”

“…Touché.”

She’s smug enough to be silent, slinging an arm over Nico’s shoulders as they walk. The closer they get, the harder Nico is forced to grapple with just how godsdamn much he’s softened. I want you to be happy, Father had said. Camp will be good for you, Chiron had agreed. You’re a little twit and need socializing, Mr. D had snipped.

Nico needs a better father figure. He wonders if Paul Blofis’ offer is still open.

The amphitheater is not, of course, empty when they arrive, because Nico knows the Fates personally and each of them despises him. The actual training part is empty — unsurprising — but the stands are moderately filled, with people gossiping, braiding hair, and if Nico is not mistaken, a small, pop-up nail painting salon. Mitchel lifts a purple-smeared hand in an absentminded wave as they step onto the packed dirt.

Nico ducks under Piper’s arm, turning to face her. “I need to fight you,” he informs her. “For my own personal pride.”

She nods thoughtfully. “It does indeed need restoring.” He curved, icy blade gleams in the early afternoon sun, mirroring her dangerous smile. “Square up.”

Since honour is for nerds, Nico doesn’t bother waiting. He simply attacks, lunging for the left side Piper always leaves open. Unfortunately for him, her recent meddling in his love life means her mother has blessed her with a little sprinkling of extra verve, and she dodges easily and cheerfully.

He sends a glum mental prayer down to his father.

Anytime you’re feeling generous, Pop, he grumbles, I would love a boost.

There’s an actual rumble to the ground, as his father laughs at him.

“Real kind,” he says out loud. “Dick.”

“I wonder if you would have more success in the wooing department if you had conversations outside of your own head,” Piper says sweetly. She spins her sword in a neat little circle by his face. “All bay brooding makes you look so…broody.”

Nico scoffs at her. “Will seems to like my broodiness. For some reason. So there.”

“And yet…” She trails off, shooting him a teasing look. Nico is unfortunately very easy to tease (thanks, Bianca) (and for that measure thanks, Hazel) (Reyna too, probably) (and honestly Annabeth) (gods, and Percy) (don’t even get him started on Leo) (really, it would be more prudent to name the people who do not take sick pleasure in driving him up the wall) and as such succumbs easily to her tormenting, taking a hard hit to the side when he’s too keyed up to avoid her spinning slash.

“Note to self, don’t let the monsters know about big embarrassing crushes,” she muses. “They make Nico sloppy and will get him killed in battle.”

She mimes writing something down. This, thankfully, leaves her distracted enough that Nico gets his sword levered against hers, twisting until she’s disarmed. She lifts both hands up in surrender when he points a sword at her throat, but remains entirely unaffected by his glare.

“Pride re-instated?” she asks.

Nico huffs. “No.”

…Yes.

“You’re such a grouch,” she says fondly. She tries to ruffle his hair and is forcibly stopped by his jab to her ribs. Unfortunately, Piper McLean takes no shit sitting down, and in a minute they’re on the floor, getting caked in dust, trying to see who can leave the most bruises on the other. Nico would wager that they’re just about tied.

“You have a list,” Piper grunts, muffled as she bites his bicep. He shouts, wrenching his arm away — she is pointy. “I have no idea what you’re all mopey about.”

He digs his knee into the small of her back. “I gave him flowers! He made a poultice out of them!”

“Technically, you made the poultice.”

He elbows her in the stomach. She shrieks and jabs her knuckles right under his eye.

“You’re so annoying!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Ugh!”

“Ugh!”

Every part of Nico’s body aches. So badly. He’s not sure which one of them won their brawl, if either, but he knows for sure that he is actively turning purple. He feels like the first time his nonna gave him a hammer and a piece of cutlet — he was maybe five years old — and told him to flatten it. (He remembers, now, the look on her face as she wiped pulverized chicken flesh from her eye. Oops.)

“Go to Will and get healed up?”

Nico huffs a laugh, immediately wincing at the strain on his tender ribs.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

The walk is miserable and bruised. And slow, since both of them are limping. Several campers walk by snickering, since apparently Saving The Entire Damn World, For Real And Actually, You Ungrateful Brat, Should I Just Destroy It Again Then earns you no permanent respect.

It’s not too bad, though. Nico would rather chomp on concrete than admit it out loud, but Piper isn’t horrible company, and she hums when she walks. Bianca did the same thing. For once, it’s a pleasant reminder, although he does wonder if Nico will ever be able to look at the women in his life and not think of her.

(In all honesty, probably not. He sees her in the clouds, in the gnarled bark of the trees; feels her in the warmth of the sun; hears her in every snorting laugh. He likes to imagine how much she would love these women, though. If she were alive they would be her friends first. He knows she was happy with the Hunters, however briefly. He thinks he can maybe forgive himself if he thinks of her without weeping.)

“Least it doesn’t look too busy today,” Piper comments. She purses her lips at the Big House, which for once seems quiet. Perhaps Will made good on his threats and finally dosed the Hermes’ table breakfast spread with Benadryl. Nico would be proud. He deserves a day of peace.

“Great. That means we get the full force of Will’s bitching on us alone.”

Piper scoffs. “Please. You like it when he yells at you.”

Nico almost kills her for real. By the time she manages to kick him off of her, still snickering to herself, they both have a new layer of bruises on top of the old ones.

“Gods, di Angelo, you make it so easy —”

“Shut up,” he says hotly. “You are literally the most annoying person in this stupid camp.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He scowls, kicking a rock to avoid kicking her and setting both of them off again. It rolls over the grass, pinging off the side of one of the many braziers and rolling finally to a stop back at his feet. In its new position, it perfectly catches the brightly shining sun, refracting the light in a dandelion-esque burst.

“Huh,” he murmurs.

Wincing at his stiff joints, he crouches, vaguely registering Piper pausing somewhere to the left of him. He scoops the little thing up, bringing it close to his face to inspect.

It’s roughly cut, so it’s not anyone’s jewel or anything. Some of the pieces are textured with tiny little divots, like a regular stone, but some are straight and flat and catch the light. Some kind of crystal, then. It’s dense, about the size of a walnut, and shaped kind of like a brain. It is a very familiar shade of blue.

“Holt Hades, you are sappy.”

Nico flushes, shoving the rock into his pocket. “Nobody asked you, Piper.”

“I asked me! I am always asking me.” She jogs to keep up with his suddenly speedy strides, gripping onto the elbow of his shirt when he tries to move faster. “Is this Plan B? Little gifts.”

“It’s a rock,” he says shortly.

“Diamonds are rocks.”

“I didn’t get him a diamond.” He pauses. “Should I get him a diamond?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not the one in love with him.”

“Who said anything about —”

“Nico! Piper! Hey!”

“Notice who he called first,” she whispers, right in his ear. She grins over at Will before he can say anything. Or curse her. “Hey, Will! How are you?”

It is unfair for a person to look good in mint scrubs. They don’t even suit him, not really, but he still looks — well, he’s beautiful. His hair is poofier than usual and sticks out like he stuck his finger in a socket, and his beam is so bright Nico has to genuinely squint to look at him, and how is it, honestly, that his freckles look like dappled sunlight? That’s not normal.

“I’m okay.” He waves them inside, not bother to close the door behind them — it’s nice out, and Nico knows he prefers the breeze and sun. “Bored.”

“Not enough ocular surgery to perform?”

Will’s grin turns wry. “Nope.” He reaches out to brush his thumb across Nico’s eye scar. He freezes, holding his breath, hyperaware of those callused fingers as they approach the ever-warming skin of his face, heart galloping in his chest. As soon as Will makes contact — because of course the touch was to get his vitals, c’mon, Nico, head in the game — he frowns.

“Why are so many of your capillaries burst?”

Piper smiles guiltily, holding up a hand.

“I beat him up.”

“Wha — you did not!” He turns to Will, indignant. “We beat each other up! She’s lying!”

Will sighs. He glares at them both for a full forty seconds, then turns his face up to the heavens, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like I do not deserve to be surrounded by this kind of dumbassery. Send lightning through the sky if I should let them suffer.

Nico waits. No lightning comes forth.

Will sighs. “Cot, let’s go, y’all know the drill.”

Piper mouths y’all as she sits down. Nico mouths eat dirt back at her.

“Now, I could hum sum’n and —”

“Sum’n,” Piper whispers delightedly. Nico ignores her.

“— get y’all fixed up good, but y’all’ve pissed me off good —”

Nico takes the initiative to pillow-smack Piper in the face while Will’s back is turned. Luckily, it muffles her shriek.

“— so I’m not gonna do all that.” He closes the cupboard with his hip, hands full of vials. “Ain’t even gonna waste ambrosia on y’all, honestly. Y’get some bruise ointment and a Tylenol ‘cause I know y’all were up to shenanigans.”

He puts a lot of emphasis on ‘nan’. Nico knows he is trying very hard to be stern, but he is in fact very cute, and Nico is putting a lot of his brainpower towards memorizing the specific wrinkle pattern that Will’s nose gets when he’s annoyed. If he says that Will looks like a bunny he might actually get shot, no matter how much Will allegedly seems to like him, so he manages to choke down the sentiment. But it is indeed there.

“— and take it easy, y’hear? Bruises don’t heal in a day.”

Gods, his eyes are really, really pretty. He’s almost tired of thinking it, but they match the sky exactly, all the time. Poets write about sparkling eyes and pretty faces all the time, but all of them can choke because all of them are liars. Will Solace has the prettiest eyes of anyone who has ever lived. They are indeed the windows to the soul, and his soul is just —

“This is for you,” Nico blurts. Essentially acting on its own, his hand slips in his pocket and draws out the blue stone, holding it out. “Um. I saw it and —” He glances at Piper, panicked, and she kicks him in encouragement. “Thought of you. So.”

Will stares at the stone for a moment. Nico sweats.

“Nico di Angelo,” he chides, hands on his hips. The panicked look he flits in Piper’s direction grows tenfold. He is not at all comforted by the grimace she sends back. “Do you think I’m so corrupt as to accept a bribe?”

“Um.” Nico hesitates. Piper smacks her face onto her hands, groaning. “That’s not what I —”

“Well, you would be correct.” Quick as a bird, Will darts out and snatches the stone, sliding it into one of his many (many) shorts pockets, nodding in approval. “I don’t have any aventurine. I’ve been looking for it. Good bribe.”

He sets down the ointment and Tylenol, gesturing for Nico to hold out his hands. Nico sighs, then complies.

“I mean, he didn’t destroy it, this time,” Piper whispers as he begins to sing, enveloping Nico’s body in a warm, golden glow. “So…progress?”

“Progress,” Nico agrees. He glances over at Will, eyes squeezed shut in focus, and rolls his eyes fondly. “Who knew it would be so hard to convince someone who already likes me to go out with me.”

———

next

[transvampireboyfriend]

this is the last update i had for this weekend. you can follow the tag #steddie lake fic if you wanna check for updates. thank you for reading <3

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

Eddie sets up one of the picnic tables, using Argyle's gingham tablecloth and arranging the hot dogs and sandwiches he and Nancy prepared.

They find a glass water dispenser inside their cabin and Eddie makes lemonade to fill it and dumps all of the ice they bought in their last stop with it. He places that on the table too.

A soon as everything is ready, Nancy grabs some food and drinks and joins Robin and Argyle in their cards game, a few tables over.

Eddie's now heading in the opposite direction to have a cigarette while he pretends he's not watching Steve haul very heavy suitcases from his car to their cabin.

The cabin belongs to Steve's family. Steve played nice with his parents for months so they would let them all stay over this week: at the tail of summer, right before Nancy, Argyle and Jonathan leave Hawkins again, and Steve, Robin and Eddie go back to their jobs. At least until Robin figures out where she wants to go to school and drags the boys along with her.

Steve's been researching schools and cities with her, he wants the best for his platonic soulmate. He's sweet. He's also dead set on having Eddie come with them and he can be very persuasive.

Not that he needs to be, Eddie thinks, watching Steve lean into his trunk for what might be the last time in a bit, considering how empty it looks from afar.

Steve's rolled the sleeves of his white tee all the way up to the top, letting his biceps flex freely. He's wearing the light wash jeans that make his ass look like it's begging to be grabbed. There's sweat dripping everywhere. He shakes it off and runs his hands through his hair every now and then, and Eddie's mouth is producing way too much saliva.

Eddie takes a long drag from his cigarette and turns his back on the borderline wet dream that is Steve Harrington, facing the lake again.

As he looks at the water and listens to the birds, Eddie goes through one and a half cigarettes, lost in thoughts of hazel eyes.

After a while, he hears steps approaching him from behind for the second time today.

This time, he turns before they reach him and sees Steve walking the las few paces until he's within earshot.

He's so sweaty.

"All done, big guy?" Eddie asks, a little breathless as he watches him approach.

Steve' face is all red, probably from the heat. He scoffs,

"You're like two inches taller than me" he says,

"Oh, you've noticed" Eddie teases with a lopsided grin,

"Shut up" Steve laughs "My hair makes up for it",

"Hmm" Eddie hums, refraining from making a comment on Steve's hair.

He pulls out his cigarette pack and offers it to Steve, assuming that's why he made a beeline for him and not the food.

"Want one?" Eddie asks,

Steve shakes his head "Yeah, but no" he says,

Eddie frowns, confused, holding his own cigarette with his mouth while he occupies his hands with putting the pack back in his pocket.

His eyes are also focused on this task, so he doesn't see Steve reaching out, taking the cigarette right out of Eddie's mouth.

Eddie feels his eyes go wide as plates and he slowly looks up to find Steve smoking his cigarette, looking out at the lake.

Holy shit.

Eddie blinks himself outta his shock. "Oh," he says, stupidly.

Steve looks back at him, searches for something in his eyes and smiles. The twinkle in his eyes only registers when Eddie watches him lean into his space once more, and take Eddie's bandana out of his back pocket this time, using it to wipe the sweat off his brow.

What?!

Eddie goes right past shock and into indignation.

"Hey!" he protests,

"Can I use this?" Steve asks around Eddie's cigarette, and way too late, too, "I'm using it" he states, in the bitchy tone he uses sometimes, the one that makes Eddie weak in the knees.

"I can see that!" Eddie tells him, trying to contain his indignant (going on giddy) laughter, "You're gross", Eddie says, like he wouldn't lick the sweat off Steve if he were allowed.

Steve just laughs at him, looking so beautiful, like right out of a magazine. Eddie lets himself hope for a split second.

"Did you just come here to take my stuff?" he asks Steve, mostly to stop himself from leaning in to bite the moles on his cheeks. He also kicks Steve's shin softly, just to make him laugh again. He succeeds.

"Maybe", Steve says, blowing smoke to the side and then offering the cigarette back to Eddie, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

What. Is happening.

Eddie rolls his eyes but accepts the offer.

"Yuck." he says dramatically, keeping his eyes on Steve, putting the cigarette back in his mouth and failing miserably at hiding his smile.

Steve watches him do it and laughs, something mischievous and delighted, then begins rolling Eddie's bandana, supporting the motion on his thigh and then reaching up to tie the result around his head.

God. What the fuck.

"You're stealing from me now?", Eddie accuses, shocked.

Steve snorts, "Borrowing", he clarifies, "I'll clean it and give it back to you", he says, like he's proud of it.

Is he fucking flirting with me?

Eddie rolls his eyes again and tries to hide his shocked smile once more. Fails.

"Or would you rather I give it to you all sweaty like this?" Steve asks, somehow sounding both dirty and completely rhetorical.

Jesus fucking -

"Ha!" Eddie says, shoving Steve's shoulder. "You have to get permission to borrow something, Steve",

"I did! I just did!" Steve protests,

"Did I say yes?" Eddie counters,

Steve pulls out his puppy eyes, the bastard, aiming them at Eddie with full force.

"Can I please use your bandana, Eddie?" Steve asks "Eds?" he adds, switching to a nickname almost as an afterthought.

Eddie's going to die of a heart attack, one of these days.

In fact, he probably already did. Yeah, he died and went to heaven, it seems.

"I can't stand you." he tells Steve, squinting.

It makes Steve dissolve into laughter again and Eddie basks in the sound as he stubs his cigarette.

"Yeah, you can use it", Eddie finally gives in, "since you already are, you menace. Come on.", he invites, already walking back toward the food table, leaving Steve behind, trying to regain some of the balance in their interaction,

"I made lemonade" he calls back to Steve, and listens as the other boy catches up.

When Steve's at his side again, Eddie turns to look at him.

"Let's get you something that's actually for you, for a change" Eddie quips.

Steve throws his head back as he laughs.

part 5

[wh0re43van]

You are great writer! Stumbled on that on set Evan fic and it was soooo good 🔥 Lol, I actually do work on set and you really captured the atmosphere tbh. Keep it up!

Not sure if you’re open to requests rn, but I would love your take on Evan and his partner trying to make a baby for the first time. He just seems so sweet and I’d love to think of this man in a happy marriage, daydreaming about little feet running around.

Thank you so much! I truly appreciate your kind words <33

So, I decided to make this two parts. This first part is just fluff, the readers get to see Evan in kind of a paternal role in this part, baby making will be in the next, I hope you enjoy!

Also ngl, I had this done for a couple of days now, I just couldn’t think of a title :/ so sorry about that. I’m awful with titles smh

Baby fever (Evan Peters X Reader) Pt. 1

Summary: While babysitting for Evans brother, you realize that you’re finally ready to have a baby, much to your husbands delight.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: none in this part ;)

Pt2 Pt3

“Thank you again, I know it’s a bit short notice, “ Evans brother, Andrew, says as he closes the door behind him to step out onto the dim front porch with Evan, his daughter Ellie, and myself.

“Dude, It’s no problem really!” Even smiles, laying a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s always a joy having Ellie around,” he grunts as he picks up her small ‘Peppa Pig’ suitcase and her car seat.

“Yeah, Dad! They love me!” Ellie giggles as she grabs onto my arm. I smile at her snaggle toothed grin. The yellow light of the porch reflecting off her dark hair, making her curly pig tails look golden.

“They’re right Andrew,” I reiterate as we all begin to walk to Evans car, Ellie’s small hand in mine while the crickets chirp their evening song. “Now you go inside and help the Mrs. pack for your..uh.. trip. We’ve got it from here, “ I give Andrew a sympathetic smile, taking Ellie’s sippy cup out of his hand.

Andrews wife’s mother has been rushed to the hospital just a few hours ago and the couple is driving through the night to be there with her. They haven’t told Ellie the reason for the trip, all she knows is that she’s spending the weekend with Auntie y/n and Uncle Evan.

“Be sure to call me if you need anything or if Ellie just wants to talk, bye sweetie,” Andrew picks up his daughter, giving her kiss on the head.

“I love you daddy,” she giggles hugging him back quickly before trying to escape his embrace. “Let me down! I wanna go to Uncle Evans!” She Kicks her small light up sneakers, flashes of purple and red glow on the concrete as her feet hit the ground. Andrew just laughs. Thanking us again before making his way inside.

“Give me the suitcase babe, I’ll throw it in the back,” I take the pink bag out of Evans arms, walking to the trunk to toss it in.

I make my way around the vehicle to see Evan bent over struggling to get the carseat hooked in as Ellie hangs on his leg, both of them erupting in giggles.

“Ellie I can’t get this carseat in with you climbing all over me like that,” he laughs as he pulls at the locked seatbelt, trying to free it so he can stretch it through the back of the child’s seat. Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him, and Evan lets her. I smile at the pure joy beaming from my husband. He loves children dearly; his niece is no exception of course. He’s brought up starting a family of our own many times in the few years we’ve been married, I’ve just never felt quite ready with how much time away his job requires, but now things are slowing down and the idea of having a baby grows on me more every day.

“Now Ellie, how will we ever make it to our house if you don’t let Uncle Evan buckle your seat in?” I ask, giving her a stern look. She considers my statement, then reluctantly trudges over to me, leaning on my leg.

“Oh okay,” she frowns, looking up at me with her big hazel eyes.

“Done! … I think.” Evan exclaims, backing away from the vehicle. I stifle a laugh when I see the crooked car seat that he is ever so proud of. I simply walk up and adjust it before plopping Ellie in the seat and strap her in. Finally, we can go home.

•

•

After arriving home, we bring Ellie’s bag in to the room that she’ll be sleeping in, I take her down to the kitchen as Evan goes to change into some sleepwear. It’s a bit late, 7:00 pm and the sun’s already set for the night, but we’ve been informed that Ellie hasn’t had supper yet.

“Okay so you want a grilled cheese, we can do that, but you need to have a veggie as well,” I pick up Ellie and set her on the dining chair. She’s expressed that she wants a grilled cheese and only a grilled cheese. She even briefly tried to convince me that she’s allergic to all vegetables. “We have broccoli,” I pull a head of broccoli out of the fridge and set it on the table.

“Yuck!” The small girl rolls her tired eyes.

“Carrots,” I grab a bunch of fresh carrots, placing them in front of her.

“No way!” She shoves them away from her. I huff.

“Or we have green beans,” I reach into the pantry and set a jar of green beans next to the other veggies.

“Aunt y/n, you’re crazy. No thank you to all of them. Just a grilled cheese please,” she says in disgust, reaching for the bag of bread and block of cheese, sliding the ingredients closer to me.

“Ellie-“ I sigh, admittedly losing some patience.

“Oh wow look at all these super veggies that Aunt y/n has laid out for you. You’re lucky, she’s giving you the special ones,” Evan says coming around the corner, now in his pajamas, as he takes a seat next to his niece.

“What do you mean?” She inquires, raising a small eyebrow.

“Oh she didn’t tell you?” He gasps, shifting his gaze to wink at me. I stifle a laugh.

“These carrots,” he pulls the bunch to him. “They give you night vision.” He explains. Ellie considers his claim.

“What about this one,” she hands him the head of broccoli.

“Oh this? It just gives you super speed, no big deal I guess if you don’t want to be the next quicksilver,” he says nonchalantly, tossing the head of broccoli in between his hands. Ellie gasps, her eyes light up.

“I want this one!” She grabs the green veggie and hands it to me. “Please.” She adds, remembering her manners. I laugh.

“Don’t you want to hear about the green beans?” Evens asks, standing up from his seat.

“No thank you. Super speed please!” She crosses her hands on the table, awaiting her superpowers. Evan takes the broccoli from my grasp, turning to grab a cutting board.

“I got it honey, go upstairs and get ready for bed,” he kisses my forehead. I smile and thank him before making my way to our bedroom.

•

•

I change into some comfy pajamas and do my nightly routine of skincare and brushing my teeth before padding down the steps. Before I peak my head around the corner I hear Evan shout,

“One more time… GO!” followed by the quick stomping of tiny feet. I clear the corner to see the furniture pushed out of the way and Ellie hurtling full speed towards me. She runs right into my stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

“Jesus,” I wheeze. Ellie giggles boisterously with a toothless smile.

“I’m sorry Auntie y/n,” she manages to choke out as she falls to the ground in her fit of laughter. I look to my husband with wide eyes, trying to process what happened.

“Hey don’t look at me babe, it was the supper broccoli. Hopefully it will wear off soon,” he says genuinely, putting his hands up in defense. I can’t help but laugh.

I take a moment to admire the sight of my husband standing in his sweatpants and old stained shirt draped loosely on his toned body. His beautiful brown curls that are just a bit overdue for a trim sticking out every which way, yet resting perfectly on his soft features, and his scruff filling in more and more every day that he’s doesn’t shave. The gorgeous man in front of me, smiling from ear to ear with the purest of joy in his chocolate eyes makes my heart sing. He’s truly in his element right now. The elation coming from Ellie and Evan is contagious, I find myself in a fit of laughter as well as Ellie crawls up my legs and onto my back.

“Your turn to race Auntie y/n!” She cheers.

“No, no not tonight honey,” I disappoint her with my response.

“We have to clean up and get you ready for bed,” I walk over to Evan, passing the girl on my back into his grasp. “Which will be Uncle Evans job since he’s the one that wound you up,” I raise my eye brows at him. Ellie happily rests in his arms bridal style, her gummy grin never leaving her face.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” he begins to walk towards the steps. “You’re the one that gave Ellie speed enhancing veggies,” he reminds me, almost fooling me as well, with how serious his tone and expression are.

I roll my eyes as I turn to put our living room back together.

‘You’d think Evan would know not have a 6 year old run laps around the house half an hour before bedtime.’ I sigh as I push our couch back into place. As irritated as I want to be, I can’t help but feel giddy. Seeing how happy Evan is with Ellie makes my heart swell with joy.  

‘Maybe I will discuss having a baby with him.’ I think to myself as I replace our rug and coffee table back into the center of the room.

‘But having a child isn’t always fun. It’s much different having your own child than babysitting.’ I make note to remind him as I shove our recliner back to its designated spot.

‘And pregnancy can be complicated’ I’ll have to tell him. ‘I hope mine won’t be, but it is something you have to prepare for’ I’ll explain. He’s not the one getting pregnant so I know this may not be something he’ll consider.

I make my way to the kitchen to begin stacking the dishwasher with what little dishes Evan left in the sink before he went to destroying our living room.

‘And what will we do if you get a big job and have to fly halfway across the country while I’m in labor or freshly postpartum?’ I’ll be sure to ask. I begin to make myself nervous considering all my concerns.

‘And what if-‘

“She’s laying down,” Evans comforting voice breaks me from my thoughts. I can hear the smile as he speaks. I don’t even need to look up. “Once I finally convinced her that there is no goblin living in our guest room closet, she crawled right in bed,” his voice gets closer as he moves to wrap his strong arms around my waist, I lean back to rest my head on his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent. I turn to look up at him. I don’t know how his dimples haven’t popped right off his face from how much he’s been smiling this evening.

“Let’s have a baby,” I blurt out, looking into the pure joy glinting in his eyes. The joy turns to shock. He grabs my shoulders, spinning me around so he can search my eyes for any hint of joking. There isn’t any.

“Are you serious y/n?” He asks. The smile now just his jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised so high that they’re hidden behind his curls. I chuckle at his reaction, my chest warming at how excited that one sentence has made him.

“Yes,” I simply answer. He matches my smile, pulling me into his chest so tight it almost hurts, but I don’t say anything.

“I want nothing more than that y/n,” he mumbles to the crook of my neck. I wiggle out of his grip enough to meet his gaze, seeing his mahogany eyes glistening. He blinks and a single tear threatens to escape though his long lashes. He reaches a hand up quickly to wipe the happiness attempting to leak from his eye.

“Let’s do it,” I grin. Every doubt, every concern, flying quickly out of my mind. The speech I was going to give him about the dangers and responsibilities of childbearing now long gone after seeing how happy the idea of us having our very own bundle of joy is making Evan.

“I love you so much y/n Peters,” he pulls me into a soft kiss, his lips warm against mine. I reach my hands up to bury my fingers in his curls.

“And I love you Evan Peters,” I smile against his lips. Though this kiss is gentle, but it is easily the most intimate kiss we’ve had. I can feel the adoration with every breath that fans over my face. “I think we should try as soon as Ellie goes home,” I suggest, pulling away from the kiss, resting my forehead on his.

“You wouldn’t reckon my brothers on his way home now, would you?” He jokes as he reaches down to grab my hands. Running his thumbs over my knuckles.

“I’m not even sure they’re out of the state yet Ev,” I smile at my husband. He brings both my hands up to his mouth, kissing each one gently.

“I suppose I can wait,” he sighs. I giggle, grabbing his arm to guide him to our room.

“Let’s check on Ellie one more time, then we can head to bed ourselves,” I whisper as we walk towards the guest room.

“You seriously expect me to be able to sleep, Honey? I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve night,” he flashes his dimples, I roll my eyes and smile at his excitement.

[flawdchaos]

Pinky Promises

Robert Rosenthal x Reader

Word Count - 1840

- this is a part 2/continuation of Spilled Drinks that was requested by anon.

Ever since the night Y/N had literally ran into Rosie at the bar she couldn’t seem to rid herself of a small smile, no matter what she did. When the girls made it back to their barracks that night, the ambushing of questions went on for well over an hour and even into the next morning.

“You have to talk to him again, Y/N. We both saw the way he looked at you when you were dancing.” Violet declared as she pinned her hair back under the white cap the Red Cross was gracious enough to bless them with. “You know Violet is right, Y/N. He’s already dreaming of a house back in the states and curly headed babies running around.”

“Hazel!” Y/N stopped midway through her dress buttons to lightly smack her friend on the arm, cheeks burning bright red. “I just met the man and for all we know, he doesn’t care and will never speak to me again.” Reaching down to grab her work satchel packed full of supplies.

“Well Y/N if that was the case I don’t believe Mr. Rosenthal would be waiting outside for you, would he?” Violet taunted, Y/N’s head snapping up to meet her friend's gaze. Violet stood peering out the window, fingers holding the blinds open enough to see outside. Hurriedly, Y/N rushed over the window trying her best to not trip over her own feet.

Sure enough there stood Robert Rosenthal - hands shoved in his pockets gaze searching the area around him.

“Go get him, tiger!” Hazel bent forward, laughing.

There truly was not much left in this world that could phase Y/N. She had seen it all in the cruel reality that was war. Men she had grown close to over the span of their visits to the nurses stations would come back battered and broken, some beyond repair - and despite all of what she saw, she was always able to ground herself. She had to. But now, she felt like a young school girl again. Her body was littered with anxiety - sweaty palms, shaking hands, and a racing heart. Why?

All because Robert Rosenthal was standing outside of the nursing barracks.

The squeaking of the barrack front door brought her back down to reality for a moment before the brightness of the sun had her quickly shielding her eyes.

“Rosie, is that you?” she more than obviously knew the answer but she still could not convince herself that it really was him.

“Uh, yeah”, he let out an awkward chuckle “I wanted to stop by this morning and see how things were going. Maybe walk you to the nurses station since I’m heading in that direction.” he was rambling. She stood, head cocked up to him, eyes squinting still from the sun. “I mean, unless, that makes you uh - uncomfortable.”

“I’d love the company. The commute can get a bit lonely.” that same small smile making its way back onto her face. Rosie extended his hand for Y/N to lead the way and with one quick glance back inside she saw her friends staring out at her, smiles plastered on each of their faces.

“What is on your itinerary, today?” Robert finally spoke up.

“The usual. Work until roughly 1900, probably later since there is a mission today and hope to make it back to the barracks in time to do some reading before I get up and do it all again tomorrow.” Y/N paused, kicking a few pebbles along the path before she continued. “How is the day looking for you?”

“Nothing too crazy but I am going up today.” he said nonchalantly, stopping Y/N in her place.

“You’re flying today?” she almost felt like throwing up. Maybe it was selfishness or chosen ignorance but Y/N had grown to hope the war wouldn’t need Robert anymore. She hoped she could protect him from it but all she could do was treat the wounds he would inevitably bring back to her.

“Yeah, debriefing starts at 0730. I’m heading over there once we get you where you need to be.” Her anxiety ridden mind could not help but imagine this was Rosie’s goodbye to her.

Y/N stepped forward to Rosie, grabbing his hands in hers as she looked up to maintain eye contact.

“I know I am just a nurse and you can’t tell me what you're doing up there or where you’re going but you have to pinky promise me you’ll be safe.” Dropping his left hand, she stuck her pinky out expectantly.

“Cross my heart.” he said, as their pinkies connected tightly.

As they continued along their walk, conversation came easily. The pair were still strangers by most accounts and each of them hated it. Y/N wanted to know everything there was to know about Robert Rosenthal and she had made it her plan to figure it out. Stopping outside the nurses station, Rosie removed his hat and began anxiously squeezing it in his hands.

“Be safe up there, fly boy.” Y/N teased, attempting to keep the mood as lightened as she could.

“As long as you do the same down here.” Y/N nodded.

“This mission will be my 20th. I’ve got a two day pass calling my name once my feet hit the ground. Let me treat you to a real introduction and dinner.” Rosie spoke quickly, nerves taking over the brunette.

“I would love that, Mr. Rosenthal.” rising on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss against his cheek. “You know where I'll be when you get back.” With that, Y/N took a step back and hurried inside to her awaiting duties.

There wasn’t any other time that Y/N had remembered the clock dragging by so slowly. The seconds ticking by was beginning to drive her up the wall and she had to busy herself with random duties. It was while she was restocking the gauze that she heard the all too familiar rumble of the engines overhead. She couldn’t make it to the window to count the returning planes but she hoped, with all her being, every single one of them returned. Hazel’s blonde curls popped around the closet corner, an all too familiar sign that the once quiet med bay was about to pure, unadulterated chaos.

“We’ve got boys already headed our way.” Hazel spoke softly, as if she tried to lessen the blow.

“How bad?” Y/N asked but was only met with a small head shake from the blonde - it was never a good sign.

When Y/N finally saw Robert Rosenthal, he appeared in the med bay doors adorning some cuts and scrapes across his face.

“I told you I would make it back, pretty lady. My leave starts at 0700 sharp. Let’s go to London.”

It was pure luck that her days off coincided with Rosie’s rendezvous and that Helen and Violet were great at covering for their friend. The train ride was where Y/N finally got to the bottom of who Robert Rosenthal truly was. Shortly after taking their seats, Y/N couldn’t help but start to prod.

“Alright, tell me everything Mr. Rosenthal. Give me all the dirty details.”, her cheeks flushed bright red ,”uh- not like that i mean tell me - uh - tell me something no one else knows about you or something.” She could have thrown herself off of the moving train at that point but Rosie just flashed her a smile and started speaking.

“Robert Rosenthal, from Brooklyn, New York. I was working in law before all this mess. I loved it. Graduated top of my class actually. But after Pearl Harbor, I couldn’t keep sitting on my ass while my country needed me so - I enlisted.”

“No secret wife or kids back at home?” Y/N poked.

“No ma’am. It’s just me. And - uh - as far as something no one on this side of the world knows about me - I was the captain for my college’s baseball team. I was trying to be the next DiMaggio.” a small chuckle escaping him as he finished his sentence. “Now what about you?” he asked, softly bumping his shoulder up against the girls.

“Nothing too crazy for me. I always loved helping folks, I was told my whole life I was meant to be a nurse. Once we started fighting this fight I knew I had to volunteer - sorta like you I guess. I’m not dropping bombs or toting a gun but knowing I patch you all up before you get back in the saddle is enough for me.” she sighed, turning up to glance at Rosie.

“And no secret husband out at war or kids back at home?” Rosie mimicked her early question. Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “God no, Robert. Where I’m from I don’t turn heads.” He took a moment to look at her, maintaining eye contact before he took his large hand and grasped over hers before pulling them on to his lap.

“Well Y/N Y/L/N you turned mine - and maybe after we get all this nonsense settled with the bad guys, I can give you a tour of Brooklyn. I know just the place that I’d love to take you dancing.”

“I’m most certainly holding you to it but for now, let’s explore London.” raising her free hand to the platform approaching quickly.

“Yes ma’am. How would you feel about a picnic?”

“That sounds absolutely lovely.”

Rosie stood up as soon as the train hissed to a stop, busying himself with gathering the overnight bags each of them had packed. He stubbornly insisted on carrying both to the hotel around the corner. Y/N knew they would have to enter as colleagues and nothing more, separating as they went to their respective rooms to drop off their bags before meeting again in the hallway.

“Let’s go find sandwiches.” he spoke quietly and Y/N nodded, falling in line behind him as they walked past the lobby and out to the streets. For the first time Y/N really took in the size of the city around her and she couldn’t even help that her jaw was almost to the floor. The Germans had done their share of damage but it didn’t lessen the experience for her at all.

“What is it, Y/N?” Rosie questioned, taking a step towards her.

“I’ve never seen a city like this before. This is just - wow.” Rosie broke out into an ear-to-ear grin. “It is awesome but wait until I take you to Brooklyn. We’ll catch the train to New York City and I’ll make sure you take the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.”

“You promise?” Y/N broke from her trance to look up as Rosie smiled and turned to her fully, sticking out her left hand.

“I pinky promise.” he said, watching as Y/N connected their hands tightly. “You better believe it. I haven’t broken a promise yet.”

AUTHORS NOTE - hi friends, i hope everyone enjoyed this little part two to spilled drinks. there may be a part 3 to this little series if it’s wanted. please feel free to give me feedback or more requests as my inbox as open. i’m still new to this so i appreciate anything :)

[darkmxgician]

Promises Break- Part 1

LMK your opinions, I've never posted my writing before, so I'm very nervous

pairing: fem!reader x noah. tags: drinking, mild violence, trauma/PTSD

word count: around 2300

story song: the death of peace of mind (we are fury mix)

taglist: @sorrowsofsilence @angelsdevils @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

18+ below the cut

The pounding music and flashing lights continue to overwhelm my senses. I normally hate clubs like this, it’s loud and I don’t enjoy losing my inhibitions outside of my designated safe spaces. My two roommates are out of town, and usually I would stay with my twin brother, but he's back in England. And so I was trapped inside my house, the silence threatening to tear me apart. I haven’t slept in 2 days, the nightmares plaguing me were beginning to seep into my consciousness, and I was losing my grip on reality. My friend Hayley invited me out for drinks, the excuse being a girls night with two of her close friends, I accepted just so I could escape the walls that were closing in on me. I don’t cope well with being alone, and when I can feel my sanity slipping I tend to be reckless and impulsive. Which is why I am now several drinks deep and swaying along to whatever dance music is blasting.

My phone starts to vibrate in my bag, I frown and try to pull it out, Hayley intercepts, grabbing it from me easily, since I’m inebriated and can barely stay upright.“Noooo, don’t answer” I slur at her, too late, “who is Noah?” she squeals at me over the music, holding the phone against one ear. I sigh internally, my brother probably asked his guard dog to keep an eye on me since everyone else is out of town. My feeble attempts to grab my phone back fail and I stumble into her as someone pushes past me from behind. The mass of bodies around us making it difficult to navigate the packed dancefloor. “Sorry y/n isn’t here right now, she’s busy, please leave a message after the tone” I can’t help but laugh at the audacity my friend has, if she saw who she was speaking to she would not be dismissing him like this. She makes an absurd beeping noise and hangs up, both of us falling into a fits of giggles, likely induced by the tequila we’ve been drinking all night. We carry on dancing like nothing happened, my drunk brain letting the details slip away with the music, not letting the anxiety set in like it usually would when Noah is involved. 

I was enjoying the music, arms wrapped around Hayley and her two friends dancing around us, when I felt the energy change, like it was charged, in anticipation for something about to break. I look around, suddenly feeling nervous, wanting to protect the mood and the fun we were having, it’s rare I let myself lose control like this, and I want to keep my buzz going. I can’t shake the feeling of being watched, like prey about to fall into a trap. I turn around again, trying to catch whatever threat is lurking, when my eyes clash with hazel ones. Noah. I blink, not quite sure if I’m hallucinating, and he’s gone. Shaking my head I scan the crowd again, seeing nobody I recognise.  turning back to my group, I signal that I’m going to the bar. Moving through the crowd is an effort, I’m almost at the bar, the liquor beckoning me, when I run into someone’s chest. I look up, straight into those deep brown eyes. Noah. I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. I realise I’m leaning against him, my hands flat against his chest, and try to back up but he grabs me. Leaning down to my level, he almost growls “you’re coming with me”. His breath is hot against my ear as I try to struggle against his grip but it’s no good. His large frame dwarfs me and his punishing grip lets him easily drag me next to him, weaving through the bodies in the packed nightclub. 

We reach the exit and I try to stop him, words failing me I just point at the cloakroom, my ticket in hand. Exasperation clear on his face, he sighs and snatches it from my hand, pushing me ahead of him I end up blocked between him and the counter. I can feel the hard muscles of his chest against my bare back, the fabric of his t-shirt rubbing against my suddenly too-sensitive skin. I lean back and look up at him, his eyes are dark and he refuses to pay any attention to me, I sigh and look back down, his hands are gripping the counter at either side of my waist, the tattoos are so dark they seem to swallow up the light around them. He takes my leather jacket from the attendant and holds it out, waiting for me to push my arms into the sleeves. I don’t know what it is about him, but every muscle seems to lock up, I feel my anxiety rising, each breath coming quicker than the last. He grabs me and roughly puts my jacket on, and starts pulling me along with an arm around my waist. I completely lose ability to breathe and start hyperventilating, we reach the exit, the cool air hitting me like a slap to the face. Noah drags me to one side and pushes me against the wall of the club, he’s frowning at me like I’m an insolent child he’s trying to manage. His piercing stare only makes my anxiety peak, I start feeling lightheaded and lean my head back against the rough brick wall. “y/n, I need you to breathe, I’m not going to let anything happen to you”, the rich timbre of his voice distracts me from my approaching panic attack. “Why are you here?” I ask, my voice light and breathless. “You weren’t at home, and when I called to check on you, your drunk friend answered”, his eyes start drilling holes in my head. How did he know my location? Did my brother do something to my phone to let his asshole friend stalk me whilst he was at home with our family? Like flicking a switch my anxiety turned to anger. I balled my fists and used all my strength to push him out of my personal space, “how the fuck would you know where I am?” I yell hoarsely. He doesn’t budge, one hand flexing on the brick next to my head he smirks down at me, “well apparently you need a babysitter, I was unlucky enough to end up with the task”. I see red, I aim to start hitting his chest to get him away from me, but he easily grabs my wrists in one hand and tuts at me. “You can either walk nicely to my car y/n, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you”. I stop my pathetic attempt at freeing myself and feel the nausea rise. He was going to take me home, back to my empty, silent house. Back to the nightmares that haunt even my waking moments. “Please, don’t make me go back there” I whisper, my eyes going wide, pleading. Surprise flickers across his features, gone before I can even register it, he leans in even further, our breath mingling as he assesses me with those rich brown eyes. “Why wouldn’t you want to go home, little one?”. I whimper, trying to suppress the sob that threatened to escape, “I can’t stand it anymore, I can’t sleep, I haven’t slept in days” I admit, tears starting to fill my eyes. Why was I telling him this? I can barely admit it to myself. He nods, like he understands exactly what is plaguing me. He moves to pull me into his side again. I decide this is where I make my final stand and elbow him in the ribs, he grunts and spins around, throwing me back against the wall, his enormous hands digging into my shoulders. I wince at the impact and he leans down again, his mouth inches from mine, “I’m not going to make you go home alone y/n, I told your brother I would take care of you, so please, get in the fucking car”.

This has to be the longest I’ve spent with my brother's best friend one on one. I’ve spent time with him in group settings before, and we happily ignore each other's presence. I can’t stop fidgeting in the passenger seat, music is playing softly, I can just make out heavy guitars over the sound of the engine. I bounce my leg up and down, unable to stop myself, I pull against the seatbelt he strapped across my chest, and try to control my breathing, the lights of the city passing by in a blur. We pull up at a set of traffic lights and his large hand grabs my thigh in a tight grip, “what is wrong with you? can’t you stay still?”. He doesn’t shout, but the annoyance in his voice is clear and I can’t stop the tears that start to fill my eyes. I try to turn to look out of the window but the hand he had on my leg grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. Time slows, he opens his mouth to say something after what feels like an eternity, but the car behind us sounds its horn, causing him to swear and set off driving instead. Noah lets go of my face and grabs my leg again, keeping me from fidgeting. I rest my head against the seat and let the tears spill, who cares if he sees anyway, he already hates me.

I jolt awake when my foot hits something, it takes me too long to understand my surroundings, I groan at the headache starting to form, pressure building and pushing against my skull. I let my head fall back to where it was. My eyes flutter open when I hit muscle and smell his cologne, the ground is moving beneath me. Noah is carrying me, his strong arms hooked under my knees and back, I grab onto his t-shirt, suddenly feeling unbalanced, eliciting a chuckle from him. The sound is foreign to me, I squint up at him, his short hair falling in his face as he navigates his way through my home, like he knows his way around, I’m sure he’s never set foot in my house before. He rounds the corner to my bedroom and kicks open the door, walking in sideways so my feet don’t hit the doorframe again. He adjusts my weight in his arms like it’s nothing and gently puts me down on my bed, another surprise. I have no words in my head, between my trauma, nightmares, lack of sleep and amount of alcohol I’d consumed my brain is not ready to take in any new information. I feel myself begin to slip into the catatonic state that is starting to become my norm. My body starts to become rigid. Noah kneels down on the floor by my bed and pulls my ankles toward him, causing me to twist and nearly fall off the bed. He frowns up at me before he starts to undo the buckles on my heels. The callouses on his fingers feel harsh against my smooth skin. I let him take my shoes off, then my bag and coat, shock and exhaustion weighing on me. “Where do you keep your pyjamas?” His voice startles me, but my body is too stiff to react, I manage to lift my eyes to his and concern flashes across his features. I point towards my wardrobe, my arm feels so heavy it just flops back down to my side. I can’t stay upright anymore, and lie back on my bed, feet still dangling over the edge. I just need to close my eyes for a second. 

Rough hands on my skin jolt me awake once again. Noah is pulling a pair of shorts up my bare legs, his eyes trailing up as he pushes them under my dress. I bolt upright, nearly head butting him, “what the fuck are you doing?” I shout, my voice cracking, the volume of my voice making my head pound. “You don’t really seem capable of getting yourself ready for bed, do you little one?” His voice was low, a tone I’ve never heard from him before, his eyes darker than usual and pinned on mine. I swallow, unsure how to respond, he always looks at me with animosity or annoyance, but I can’t figure out the emotions on his face. He cocks his head to one side, “do you want to take that dress off, or shall I do the honours?”, a ghost of a smile hovers over his mouth. When I fail to answer he pulls me upright, one hand on my waist, steadying me. When he’s satisfied I’m not going to fall over, he starts untangling the mass of straps on the back of my dress, I chose an open backed one to show off the new tattoo adorning my spine. I couldn’t think, I could barely breathe, with his hands on my bare skin, goosebumps flow down my arms and my mouth dries out. My dress is becoming looser with each movement of his large hands and I have to grab on to stop it from falling down and exposing my bare chest. With the straps undone, he spins me around, his eyes dropping to where I’m gripping the fabric. His nostrils flare and his grip on my hip tightens ever so slightly. Slowly he raises his eyes to mine, and where his hazel eyes are normally flat, they’re churning, almost black against his dilated pupils. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, his eyes tracking the movement, and I instantly feel like an animal caught in a trap. 

Part 2 - Part 3

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hey Hazel! Hope you’re doing well <3 For your event, I’d like to request a Protection one with Evergreen, Cinnamon, Lepidolite, and Jasmine for Zhongli please. Hope I did that right. Thanks, and I hope your event goes well!

Evergreen (the unexpected), Cinnamon (love and prosperity), Lepidolite (regulation, stress relief), Jasmine (love, sensuality) Zhongli x gn reader | Protection Ritual warning: fluff fluff, some kissing, sweet zhongli

The air held hints of salt, sweet delicacies from fields overgrown with silk flowers and violet grass, rich spices, and hearty aromas that clung to the clothes of the man resting on your lap. You lifted your face to the sky and felt the warmth of the setting sun dance through the trees.

"Where do you wander?" Zhongli's voice mixed with the rustle of the earth, the music of the mountainside.

"Not far," you hummed in return and let your fingers continue their movement through his long hair.

It was a rare event to see Zhongli relax this way. To surrender himself prone while you promenaded across his brow, down the edges of his face, and over his ears, through his brown and gold-tipped hair in long, fluid motions. He seemed to relish the interaction, even though it took some convincing for him to allow it.

You'd always known him to be properly on guard. Poised. Correct and restrained. He asked for little, save for you to join him in the things he enjoyed, or covering his bills when he neglected them. For one as carefree, he hardly let down his guard.

So to pamper him, to provide for him a space away from the pressures of the harbor, it seemed more of a gift for you than it did for him.

Zhongli opened his eyes and you became lost in their amber. "I must admit I am uncertain of the reason to receive such pampering."

You smiled at him and trailed your finger down the edge of his hairline. "Do I need a reason to show you how I love you?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, a subtle smile raising his perfect cheeks. The Masters of old would never be able to paint his likeness. "I suppose not."

"You've been working nonstop. And, need I remind you, but as part of this world, you need to learn when to rest. Besides, you know It does you little to fight me. I always win."

"Yes, my dear," he replied with a pleased hum, one that came from his chest and set your skin to ripple. You chuckled, leaned to grab your cooling tea, and looked out over the field.

This was a sacred place to you, to both of you. It was the place where you first met - where Zhongli rescued you from a pack of Hillichurls when you lost your way. He seemed to appear from the earth itself to shield you from their attacks. "There is no need to be alarmed," he said as he offered you his hand, and from then on it was the only one you ever wanted. Every day after that felt like an endowment you'd never be able to pay. So these moments, these investments in him seemed the least you could do in return for the life, happiness, and love he had given you.

Zhongli frowned so you recoiled your hand. "Did I pull your hair?"

He shook his head, slightly. "It seems unfair. This exchange. Yet I am unable to find an adequate token of compensation."

You laughed, he opened his eyes to look at you. "You don't need to do anything. This was my treat - well - besides the tea. I'm not as good as you are so just count that as your contribution and leave it there."

Zhongli's brows furrowed. He lifted off you and rubbed his chin.

"Zhongli, it's alright. Lay back down," you said and reached for his shoulder but when he turned to you his gaze was focused, intentional. It made your heart flutter.

"Though this compensation is lacking, will you allow me to provide it anyway?" he asked as he cupped your cheek. You nodded and he leaned in to kiss you. It was soft, gentle. His lips connected with your cheek, the tip of your nose, and your forehead before floating down to your lips to hover just above them. "I have been on this land for a time, and have come to know a thing or two."

"And what is that?" you asked, breathless, hand clenched around his sleeve.

"Fairness must never be squandered. So as you have pampered me, allow me to do so in turn."

Zhongli's elegant fingers held your face and when his thumb brought down your chin you welcomed him in - his essence and his love.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.