#it's nearly midnight and i'm still sick

[surielstea]

Midnight Meetings

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Eris are secretly mates and refuse to get caught, despite being deep in love.

Warnings: MINORS DNI | 18+ | smut | P in V | Fingering | praise | rough sex | pet names | overstimulation ||| lots of fluff :)

6.8k words

A/N: not proofread!

I knocked on the dark green door in front of me before backing away and hugging my navy blue cloak tighter to my body, my hood covering my face entirely as I stared down at my feet.

The door quickly swings open, revealing a curious red-headed male. I smile and even if he could only see the bottom half of my face, he'd recognize my grin anywhere.

"You don't look suspicious at all," Eris drawls as I welcome myself into his apartment. "Well, it's not like you can come visit me." I shrug off my cloak and hang it on the coat rack. "I would winnow right into your bedroom if you allowed me to." He states and I shake my head incredulously. "I have no doubt you would."

I whirl around, looking up at my mate with yearning eyes. "I missed you." He sighed, his large hands coming up to cup my jaw. "It's only been a few days." I excuse and he presses a kiss on my forehead. "A few days too long." He corrects, moving down and kissing the tip of my nose. "I'm here now." I remind and a smile curves his lips before I rise onto my toes and connect our lips, my chest pressing against his as I wrap my arms tighter around the back of his neck.

When I back away he looks at the clock on the wall, nearly a quarter past midnight. He knows I have to leave at dawn, less than six hours from now I'll be out of his grasp and back in my Court. "I'm so sick of these secret meetings." He grumbles, hands traveling from my jaw, past my shoulders, to my hands where he intertwined our fingers. I nod in agreement, tired from the amount of winnowing it took to get here.

"We should just tell your little group." He suggests as he pulls me over to his couch. "Are you kidding? They'll burn me at the stake." I snort and he plops down onto his sofa, I waste no time straddling his hips as he leans his back against the armrest, staring up at me lovingly. "Fire's such a horrible way to go out." He states, holding up his hand and I marvel as a small flame emits from the center of his palm. I grin wildly, the small fire flickering as I cup my hand over it, but it doesn't burn, it almost tickles with the way it dances along my skin.

"I love it when you do that," I murmur and he makes the flame slightly larger, illuminating my face and I can't help but unabashedly stare. "I could set entire forests to flame but you like this, a fire no larger than a candle." He observes and my eyes flick up to his, the fire reflecting in them. "Well anyone can have power, it takes control to do this." I cup my hand over the flame entirely and it goes out, his fingers curling around mine.

"You can thank my father for that." He grumbles and I shake my head. "It's different, more gentle." I smile. "Setting worlds to burn is all your father's doing, but this, you get this from your mother," I explain and he blinks, his cheeks staining with color. He swallows thickly before replying, "I love you." Is all he can get out and I giggle at the idea of making Eris Vanserra's mind go blank. "Love you too." I cup his cheek with my other hand before leaning in and slotting our mouths against each other.

The kiss alights like an ember, sparking flames to run down the line of my spine, his hands coming to my waist to keep me still, hugging me to him as if he needed me so much closer. "I missed you too," I whisper onto his lips. "Missed you so much." I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, burrowing into his warmth— afraid it would disappear and I'd be left in the cold, as well as the dark without his fire.

His hand comes to my cheek and he pulls away, thumb running over my bottom lip as he does so. "I don't want to waste our whole time having sex." He muttered and I smiled cheekily. "You think it's a waste?" I tease, hands coming to his shoulders.

"No. I just, I like talking too." He explained and I smiled before leaning in and pecking his lips. "Only teasing Eris." I hum in between kisses. "We can talk as long as you want," I flip off of his lap and cuddle into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder while my leg hooks around his torso. "Well, you can talk to me until dawn." I correct and he releases a long sigh at the limitation, his hand tracing up and down my arm, absentmindedly drawing hearts and spelling out his name.

"What do you have going on tomorrow?" I ask, my hand slipping under his shirt in craving for his warmth. "Lashing from my father, brothers trying to kill me, the usual." He lowly whistles and I frown, propping my chin up on his collarbone, staring up at him. "You don't even have any... General stuff going on?" I ask and a small smirk pulls at his lips.

"General stuff?" He mocks and I bury my face back into his chest. "Shut up, I don't know the terms," I murmur with embarrassment as he chuckles. "I'm the General of armies, there's no war ongoing at the moment." He informs and I roll my eyes. "Isn't there some preparation you need to do?" I flip back into his lap. "Are you calling war on me?" He arches a perfect brow and my other hand slips under his shirt.

"No Sir." I shake my head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He lets a low grunt slip from his lips at the nickname and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his middle and propping my head up on his sternum, staring into his amber eyes as he watched me through his lashes.

"You just love to tease me don't you?" He hums, his hands coming to my waist and I nod brightly. "Because I'm the only one who can get away with it." I croon and he fights back a smile because he knows I'm right. "How so?" He tilts his head as if he doesn't already know he's head over heels. "Making you stumble over your words is so cute." I hum, nails lightly dragging along his toned abdomen. "I do not stumble over my words." He states it as if it's a fact. "Sure you don't my lord." I jeer, the nickname has his ears perking up, the casual intimacy making his body unsure how to act.

Eris had never gotten the love he deserved as a child, his mother gave him a peck on the cheek every now and then when he got to see her, but after his brother was born all of her attention quickly went to him. Eris understood, he was in his twenties by then, helped raise each of his brothers, and made sure they got the necessary love he didn't receive. Some of them were poisoned by their fathers' words and manipulations, the horrid male pitting his brothers against him, the boys he raised only for them to try and stab him in the back in foolish desire to become the sole Heir.

That's why when I met him, actually met him, I gave him every bare inch of my love, force-feeding it down his throat if I had to, in need to make him feel as cherished as he should've as a child. It pains me to know his father still has control at times, to think about the main reason I wasn't allowed to publicly love him.

My family was one thing, they truly loved me and would eventually understand why I was with Eris, but Beron, he'd use it against him, threaten me at every chance he got and it'd work on Eris. No matter how safe I was, if Beron somehow got his hands on me Eris didn't know how he'd act, doubted he'd even think beforehand, which scared the ever-living hel out of the prince.

"Have you gone quiet because you're afraid of being too tongue-tied?" I smile at him, my hand now running through his auburn hair. He nods silently and I giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I love you." I hum and he pales, the light dust of freckles along his cheeks coming to show. "My gods—you can't— it's mean of you to just say that." He stutters out and I snicker. "So flustered over a few words." I taunt and he releases a huff of defeat.

"How is it mean?" I ask, pushing the hair away from his eyes, and combing my fingers through the soft locks. "You say it so casually," His large hands drag up and down my waist. "It's odd how easily you say it." He explains and I smile softly at him, lifting from his chest so my face is hovering above his. "But it's how I feel." I reason with him and he looks up at me, his dark lashes fanning over his eyelids. "I mean it, I do love you." I reassured, remembering the first time I said it to him, how he carried me straight to the closest bedroom and didn't let me leave in the morning, said I had to stay another day as he held me to his chest and forbade me from leaving until later that night.

"I love you too." A genuine smile coming to his features, one of his hands reaching up to cup around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking over the line of my jaw. He pulls me down and I allow it, slotting my lips onto his. Warmth blossomed in my chest as his silken lips met with mine yet again, my mouth molding to his like he was made for me, made for kissing me only.

It doesn't take long until we're out of breath, his tongue in my mouth as I part my lips for him willingly, his hands running over any point of my body he could reach, hand on my thigh, pulling me higher up onto him. Sighs of devotion filled the silence of the room, his scent enveloping me, warm cinnamon and campfire embers surrounding me as I pressed my chest to his by arching my back.

He smiled into the kiss, using his hand on my cheek to guide me away from his lips, which I reluctantly pulled away from.

"What happened to talking?" He says and I frown. "I figured we had a better use of our mouths." I shrug and he sighs contentedly, wrapping both his arms around my middle and pulling me down onto him, flipping onto his side so we could lie facing each other, heads resting on the same pillow. "I don't want you to leave." I frown and I mirror it. "I don't want to either," I mutter. "And I'll have to leave a little earlier so I can shower the 'you' off of me," I add and he rolls his eyes, leaning down and stuffing his nose into the crook of my shoulder. "I like when you smell like me," He mumbles into my skin. "Tell those bastards who you belong to," He hummed, his tone determined and I let out a quiet laugh. "Mine." He mumbles into my neck, pressing soft kisses to my neck, up the column of my throat then back down to my shoulder. "All mine." He whispers, hugging me impossibly closer. "All yours." I soothe, scratching his scalp and he groans at the feeling, burrowing deeper into my shoulder. I smile and press a kiss to the top of his head.

I allow silence to settle over us. I knew he was tired, he had a meeting with his father and all his advisers today, which would drain anyone. He wrote me a note saying he needed to see me, that he didn't want to talk about what happened, just that he wanted me in his arms. I showed up as early as I could, which was midnight. The Night Court stays up late, making it far too difficult to sneak out.

His fingertips traced random shapes along my waist, then his name over and over again.

"Hey, Eris," I call. "Hm?" He mumbles back tiredly, fighting off the sleep in hopes of spending more time with me before I disappear in the mornings. "Do you want to get married?" I prompt and his ears perk up, eyes peeling open as he backs away from my neck so that his attention is entirely on me. "If that's what you want," He murmurs, eyes watching mine as if trying to get a read on my emotions. "It's just that, Rhys said the other day that you need to prove your loyalty to the Night Court since that whole Nesta thing didn't work," I explain and he's now fully awake. "What are you asking?" He runs a hand down my spine and I swallow. "Why haven't you proposed to me?" I frown and a small smile spreads across his face. "Because you're not a battle strategy my fawn." He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips. "I don't want to marry you just because Rhys said so, I want it to be authentic." He hums, hand intertwining with my smaller one. "But I do, want to marry you." I reason with him and he grins childishly, kissing me again. "Then we'll get married." He whispers. "During the meeting next week Rhys is going to ask you what you want," I mutter and his head comes up to my face, rubbing over my cheekbone. "And I'll ask for your hand," He nods, understanding. "Exactly." I smile excitedly, hopeful that others will assume we fell in love after marriage.

He stuffs his face back into my shoulder, his embrace around me like a fireplace, reminding me of cuddling beside the hearth with a cup of tea just as hot.

My hands return to his hair, nails scratching his head lightly, sending him into a comfortable slumber, sleep finding him in the best of places with me in his arms as if he's never felt more secure than he did now.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The hewn city always gave me the shivers, I hated being in this place, hated every inch of the Court of Nightmares, my birthplace, my childhood home. It was cold here, the feel of a cold spider crawling down my spine was at a constant.

Eris stood in front of the entire inner circle like an interrogation. We were discussing the peace treaty Rhys has been working on for quite some time now. Seated at a meeting table made of solid black marble, the chair I sat in was a matching color that ate up any light around it. Azriel stood behind me, his hands resting on the headrest of my seat, refraining from pouncing on the Heir at any given moment.

"If you think for even a moment that my father will sign your little settlement you've either been brainwashed or you truly are the brute I thought you to be." My mate hums towards the high lord and I mentally curse him. Can't you just act civil towards them for a moment? I ask and a smile curves his lips, which is all the response I need. The spymaster lets out a low growl behind me, his hands digging into the material at the back of my chair. I reach behind my head and set my hand atop his scarred one, calming him down. Eris noticed the couch and watched as the spy master's fingers intertwined with mine, the future high lord noticeably grinding his teeth. I flashed him a pretty smile that mirrored his previous one.

"We don't need your father, we need the High Lord of the Autumn Court." Feyre stared and everyone's head whipped to her. "Would you sign it? If given the title?" Feyre asks and Eris tilts his head with a sloppy smile. "Perhaps," He shrugs, I have to physically hold back from rolling my eyes. Always one for the dramatics.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cassian bristles. "Well once I'm in power you can't be sure of where my loyalties lie, and after you rejected my proposal—" He says pointedly at Nesta. "There's no knowing who I might turn to after becoming High Lord." He lets on and my stomach twists anxiously, despite knowing where this was going Eris had such a way with his words that had even me believing he'd betray us if given a better offer.

I'm starting to second-guess this plan. I confess to him, something warm breezes over me, flames spreading across my mind to calm me. There's nothing to worry about my fawn, it'll go as intended. He reassured but the fear on the edge of my mind remained.

"You can't have her." Cassian grits out, crossing his arms over his chest and I'd never seen him look more intimidating, even on a battlefield that fierceness was nothing compared to the pure loathing in his eyes. "I don't want Nesta," Eris scoffs at the Illyrian, lazily looking at him. "Then what do you want?" Nesta leaned onto the table, narrowing her gaze on him.

Eris looked at every set of eyes at the table before lastly meeting mine. His stare doesn't falter for even a moment, so confident when he looks at me like he's got no fear in the world. "Her." He states, voices steady and certain.

"Absolutely not." Azriel rules from behind me, I look to Rhys who seems to have the same opinion as the shadow singer. "Find something else, you can't have her." Rhys orders in a voice that reminds me solely of the most powerful High Lord. "You were so eager to sell Nesta off, when I asked for her hand you gave her the decision." Eris reminds and Rhysand's jaw clamps shut, muscles feathering along it. He releases a breath of annoyance, looking at me. It's up to you. He says into the chambers of my mind I have sectioned for him and him only, not allowing him to see my thoughts of Eris, I won't let him find the mating bond, gods forbid the memories.

I remove my hand from Azriel's and fold my hands in my lap anxiously, Rhys has just put the fate of this court in my hands, but more selfishly, the outcome of my relationship with Eris. I swallow thickly, my eyes flicking up to the Heir to Autumn. I can feel everyone watching me, intently staring as if trying to read my answer before I even reply.

"If Beron dies and you come to power, if you promise to sign the treaty I will marry you," I say meekly as if this wasn't my idea. I can practically feel Azriel seething behind me. He's always had issues with his temper and I wonder if he'll pounce on Eris yet again depending on what the Prince says next. "A bargain then." He smirks and I nod. My eyes flick to Rhys as I stand, Eris does the same. We meet in the middle, his left hand reaching out. The hands that have felt every inch of me, the hands that have cradled me as well as fucked me.

I set my palm into his, the familiar feeling has them slotting together perfectly. I look into his eyes and a searing pain etched itself onto my left hand. I don't look away from his eyes. I wanted to feel the burn, relishing in the feeling of the bargain marking me, making it clear to my family that I am his and he in mine, in one way or another.

The pain ceases and I'm hesitant to pull my hand away, I haven't felt his warmth in a week. He takes his hand away first and I follow the action, looking down at the tattoo that tainted my hand, intricately designed lines and patterns running along the back of my palm, coming up and looping around my ring finger like a wedding band, his to match exactly. I look to my family across the table, all the way on the other side now that I stood by Eris, it felt like some kind of metaphor that I couldn't shake.

"Settled then?"

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"What an absolute bastard." Rhys groans, flopping down onto the couch. I anxiously watch the Inner Circle as they all settle into the sitting room. "I wouldn't have accepted the proposal if he had ill intent," I mumble, coming to his defense as much as I could without raising suspicion. "You shouldn't have," Cassian says, taking a seat in his designated chair. Nesta went back to the House of Wind, Amren and Mor went back to their respective apartments, and Feyre had gone to bed early, leaving me with the three winged males.

"This Court was at stake," I argue. "This Court would've been fine," Rhys states. "We could've found something else, anything else." The high lord sighs. Azriel was utterly silent, which frightened me. "Eris always has an ulterior motive, whatever he wants with you scares the shit out of me," Cassian explains with a soft expression and a frown rugs at my lips. "I understand your point, but you let me have a choice and I made it," I say, still standing, facing all three of them staring at me like overprotective brothers.

"What does he want with you?" Azriel narrowed his eyes on me. I pale, unsure what he meant. "You know something we don't." He stated, his voice certain. "I— I'm not sure what you mean." I crease my brows, the other two Illyrians look at the spymaster confused. He stood, leveling his gaze with mine as he towered over me. "What are you hiding?" His eyes analyze every movement of my body, taking a step back as he steps forward. His eyes were dark as he walked towards me.

"Az," I mumble, utterly passive under the shadow singer's gaze. "Nothing, you would know if I had secrets." I try to play it off with a soft laugh but it's futile. "Would I?" He grits out and I blink rapidly due to what felt like fear, not towards Azriel, never towards him. But what would he do if he found out? "Az, you're scaring me," I mutter, purposefully making my voice shake. It was a low move, but I knew it'd make him stop.

His eyes run along my features then back to my eyes. "I'm sorry," He places his hands on my shoulders. "I just, you're sure there isn't anything I should know?" He creases his dark brows and I swallow down my word vomit. The tenderness in his voice has me wanting to tell him everything. I take a deep breath, looking into his hazel eyes, and realizing the silence has stretched on for far too long I speak. "Nothing." I square my features and his hands slip from my shoulders. "I understand." He hums, backing away and brushing past me towards his bedroom.

I look at the two males still in their seats staring at me with raised brows. "I think I'm going to go to bed as well, it's been a long day," I mumble, eager to get out of there, and get to my apartment. "Of course, get good sleep," Rhys says, I look to Cassian and he gives me a nod. I return it before winnowing back to my apartment.

I release a long sigh, walk into my office, and shuffle through my drawers until I find a piece of note paper and a pen, I quickly scribble onto it.

Are you still here? I write, watching as the paper disappears from thin air, impatiently I wait for a reply, rocking on my heels until the paper appears again, fluttering down onto my desk with familiar handwriting on it.

Miss me already?

I roll my eyes at the words and quickly jot down my reply with the neatest brand I can muster.

Maybe just a little, will you answer my question now? He's quick to reply this time.

I am. Want to come back?

Why don't you come to my apartment?

I watch the note disappear and I anxiously click my pen repeatedly as I wait for him to reply, taking longer than it should've.

Oh? Now look who's trying to get caught?

Eris, will you come or not?

Give me a moment Love, I'll be there.

I smile at the note, allowing it to rest on my desk as I walk into my bedroom, shuffling through my nightgowns. I find my softest one, a pale yellow chiffon that ends at my thighs. I strip from my heavy dress, pushing it down my hips before hopping out of it. I had the gown back up into my large closet, placing it on the rack for later wearing, then moving back to my bedroom where I left the nightgown on my bed.

My brows crease when the yellow fabric is no longer fanned out on the bed. "This is awfully short," A voice hums in the dark room and I jump, my head whipping to a familiar silhouette holding up the pastel dress. "Don't you think?" He flicks his eyes up to me and my ears perk up as a cheeky grin spreads across my face. "Want to put it on me?" I suggest, taking a step towards my mate. "I'd rather be the one taking it off." He intones and I roll my eyes, sauntering over to him until we're nearly chest to chest. "I'll let you do that too." I raise my arms up and he smiles, slipping the dress over my arms, passing my shoulders, bending down, and pulling the pretty dress past my hips. He looks up at me from his knees and I smile down at him, my hand going into his hair.

"My pretty fiancé." I tease and he presses a kiss to my thigh, his bright eyes never leaving mine. "I love this," I say, hand coming down to caress the side of his face. "Love what?" He arches a brow curiously, my fingers coming under his chin and tilting his head higher up. "Love that I have Eris Vanserra down on his knees for me," I mutter, bending at the hips and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I think I love it too." He confesses as my hand leaves his chin and cups around the back of his neck.

He stands up, my head tilting with him, lips never leaning as he places his hand on my waist and walks towards me, guiding me with him until the backs of my thighs hit the plushness of my bed. I smile, detaching our lips before hoisting myself onto the bed, crawling further up until my back is resting on the headboard.

He wastes no time in mounting over me, arms coming to either side of me as his lips slot against mine yet again.

I arch my back as his hands press against my waist, my chest pushing up against his. "It was a mistake to put this dress on," He murmurs into my mouth and I sigh breathlessly. "Whys that?" I mutter. "Because now all I want to do is see it on the floor." He purrs and a smirk curved my lips. "Then what are you waiting for?" I taunt. His fingers make quick work of slipping the thin straps from my shoulders.

He tugs it down my thighs, forcing it past my hips and throwing it off onto my floor, exactly as he promised. I was left in nothing but my undergarments, feeling particularly bare I began to work on the buttons of his shirt, pulling them undone as I worked lower and lower, as soon as I reached his waist where his shirt ends, I began unbuckling his belt.

He does the rest of the shirt for me, not daring to break our kiss, his mouth staking claim on me like a ravaging beast needing to feed, and I was the only sustenance around. I get his belt off, the rattling of it familiar as it clatters to the floor.

My arms trail up his arms that framed either side of my head, feeling up the Heirs biceps, nails clawing down his back as his hips drag along mine.

"Eris," I pant out. "I know." He nods, understanding exactly what I was feeling in my chest, the bond between us growing every time he touches me, that tether, impossible to ignore, glimmering between us as his left hand roams every inch of my bare skin.

I breathe a sigh of satisfaction once his palm finds purchase at my breast, groping the sensitive flesh.

I moan into our kiss at the feeling, our kiss that was all tongue and teeth, hurried passion with a hunger I knew well. His hand leaves my breast much to my dismay, instead, he shucks off his pants. I smile excitedly as two of his fingers dip down past my pantie line, pinching the lacy undergarment between his fingers. "This is okay?" He whispers breathlessly against my lips and I nod with a needy fervor. "More than okay," I murmur and he wastes no time, lips crashing back down onto mine and he's pulling off my panties, discarding them along with the rest of my clothes on the floor.

"Touch me," I beg as soon as the cold air hits my wet core, clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Eris, please," I whine and he presses a kiss to my forehead, hand raking down my body. "Tell me how." He hummed and my brows creased in perpetual need. "Your fingers, inside," I murmur out with creased brows and a corrupting smile curves the Heirs lips, his thumb finding my clit.

A gasp racks through me at the intense feeling, two of his long fingers dragging through my soaked folds. "You're soaked." He observed and I nodded, showing him just how much I'd needed him all day today, knowing he was in my court, in my grasp, but I couldn't have him, not until now.

"Fuck, feels good." I sigh contentedly as his thumb begins circling tightly around my puffy clit, sensitive to his stimulation. "Yeah?" He hovers over me and I nod with my eyes clenched shut, reveling in the way he lathered his fingers in my slick.

His fingers enter me, two at once. My breath hitched and my heart rate doubled at the intense heat that overwhelms my body. He doesn't wait for me to adjust, and begins pumping his fingers in and out of me at a rapid pace, hitting deeper every time— he finds that spongy bundle of nerves deep inside of me and I scream his name, hands feeding into his hair as I grip his hair between my fingers, whining as I beg for him to abuse that spot.

He does as told, palm resting against my clit and pushing down onto it, allowing me further friction as I begin grinding down onto his hand, fingers scissoring inside of me, doing wicked things that have me pulling his hair and moaning ridiculously loud.

"I'm close," I mumble out, tears welling in my eyes at the immense pleasure. "Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers pretty girl?" He asks and I nod, opening my eyes to look up at him. He looked like an angel from this perspective, his hair hanging over his eyes as I ran my hands through it, pushing it back so I could see his lust-blown eyes.

"Eris— I'm cumming!" I confess and he smirks above me, thumb flicking over my clit, causing my legs to jolt as I reach ecstasy, finding that high and grasping onto it for dear life, riding it out as my grinds come to a stop and his fingers, slowly, slip from my entrance. I looked at him with a fucked-out expression, watching as he took his fingers into his mouth, licking every drop of my release off of his own hand.

I clench my legs shut, whimpering as my orgasm lingers on the edge of my mind, another one would quickly be approaching if I got any form of fraction between my thighs.

"Wanna, make you feel good too." I blink up at him helplessly and he sloppily grins down at me. "Want your cock." I mumble, already knowing what he wants of me. His eyes practically glow golden at my behavior, his member straining against the last remaining fabric between us and he removes it, his sex springing up against his abdomen, precum seeping from his tip. My mouth waters at the sight of it, hand coming to it and swiping the pearl of white away, bringing it up to my lips and licking it away.

He presses his core into mine, his heavy cock dragging through my folds, lubing himself for my pleasure. I hum in want, in pure need, for more. He strokes himself once, then twice. His tip red and angry as he aligns it with my slit and I bite my bottom lip, forcing myself to stare as he pushes in, inching himself deeper and deeper.

"So, big," I mutter incoherently, too cock-drunk to recognize anything else. The stretch was far from foreign but gods did it feel good, my walls hugging his thick shaft, pushing inside of me further and further. My breath quickens as he presses against that bundle of nerves— then goes further.

Tears spring to my eyes at the pleasurable pain, nails digging into his shoulder as his hips finally hit mine and I release a gasp of relief.

He looks at me reassuringly, my eyes catching contact with his. "Hard, go hard," I beg. "Want you feral," I mumble. "You're so good for me." He mutters, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as he pulls all the way out to his tip, and without warning— slams back in, moans ripping from my throat at the sudden change of pace, his thrusts becoming animalistic as he hits home, every single time.

"Fuck," any brows crease together, nails now making red marks down his back that rippled with muscle. He drives into me with sheer fervor, not letting up for even a moment as I contract around him with a sharp breath, feeling every ridge and dip of his member as he uses me like a sleeve, molding to him and him only.

"You're so fucking tight," He grunts out, hips rolling over mine. Tears roll down my face but he doesn't care, he continues fucking me with an unmatched speed. "Eris, too much," I whine out, gripping his back, attempting to find purchase anywhere I can manage. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah?" He hums, lips finding mine again, shutting my complaints up and hammering into me.

"I'm gonna— I'm so close," I mumble into his mouth and he nods. "Me too baby," He reassures over the sounds of his tight balls slapping against my ass, hips clapping against mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, finding every crevice it can manage and I just allow it. Let him take over my entire body, reaching a headspace that made me entirely passive, just wanting his hands on me, anywhere, everywhere.

"You going to cum on my cock my girl?" He asks and I nod earnestly, tear-stained cheeks flushed pink from the exertion. "Please, can I?" I wasn't above begging, I was ready to get down onto my knees if it meant I could have that sweet release, so close I could almost taste it— feeling that knot tighten in my core. "You can," He allows, and with another thrust of his hips, grinding them down onto mine and rolling over that perfect spot inside of me I'm reaching that

Warmth blossoms in my abdomen as I feel my orgasm crash over me like a wave of pure pleasure. I clench tightly around him, walls fluttering around his cock and then his warm seed fills me, letting out a groan of my name as his release pumps into me. He lets out a shaky sigh as he works himself down from the intense high, slowly removing his heavy shaft from my entrance and flipping down beside me.

Pants for air fill the room, the cold bedsheets feeling like heaven on my hot skin, still, I burrow into Eris. Flipping onto my side and resting my head against his chest. His hand comes into my hair, dragging his fingers through it as we regain our breath, my hand on his abdomen, tracing random shapes on the muscle.

"Do you want to stay the night?" I ask after a stretch of comfortable silence. "You have to be gone by dawn but, a few hours of sleep couldn't hurt." I excuse and his hand in my hair halts. "You have no idea how enticing that sounds." He sighs. "Then stay." I look up at him, blinking slowly as exhaustion took me full throttle. "Okay." He nods. "Okay." I smile, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet— contradicting the events that just took place. "Let's get you cleaned up first."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I woke up to the birds outside my window cooing their morning song, I released a soft sigh and noticed a heavy weight around my middle. I peek my eyes open, looking down at the familiar arm that belonged to my mate. I mumble a chain of incoherent sounds, my hand sliding from my forearm up to his large bicep, the feel of his muscles having my body set to flame. I flip around and look up at the pretty male, his red hair cascading over his eyes messily. I drag my fingers through it, pushing the strands away so I can look at his features.

The sunlight seeped past my sheer curtains, shining softly down into his sharp features. He seemed so at peace with his head on my pillows, his arm around me. I move my hand from his hair down to cup his cheek. In the sunlight, I can see each one of his freckles so clearly I swore I could lie here and count them all day.

I wonder why I don't admire him more in the mornings, he truly was meant to be admired during sunrise.

I quickly realized I never saw him during the mornings because I was too busy collecting my things and rushing out of his apartment to get back to my house before anyone noticed.

"Eris." I spring up, shaking his shoulders. "Eris, wake up." I urge. He peeks one eye open with a grimace. "Everything's okay," His hands come up to the sides of my face, his immediate response to comfort me even half-asleep. "No, Eris you have to go," I say clearly and he mumbles something I don't understand. "What's wrong?" He asks, rubbing his eyes, clearly confused. "You fell asleep, you need to go back to Autumn." I reason with him and he groans, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back down onto the bed. "Does anybody come to your apartment in the mornings?" He asks. "No," I say muffled with my cheek smushed into his chest. "And do you need to leave anytime soon?" He adds and I shake my head. "Not until late afternoon," I explain and he pulls me so much closer. "So what's the rush, Fawn?" He prompts and my ears perk up, realizing there was no real reason for him to leave so early. "I suppose there isn't one," I mumble, allowing myself to return to admiring his features, his auburn eyes not halfway open to stare at me back.

"Good morning." He says and I smile wildly, not realizing how badly I wished for him to still be around the morning after. "Morning my love." I press a kiss to the corner of his lips, he smiles at the feeling. "My betrothed is so pretty in the mornings." He hums his morning voice something I've rarely heard, the deep sound of it having my ears perk up. "Your betrothed?" I arch my brow and he nods tiredly, intertwining our left hands that were designed in tattoos.

"Mhm, now go back to sleep beloved." He pulls the blanket over our heads and I giggle, now enveloped in the dark with him. "I love you," I whisper like we're about to tell scary stories. "Love you too." He leans in blindly and somehow finds my lips, as if he knew where they were, and presses a gentle kiss to my lips, letting the blanket go in order to bring his hand into my hair.

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[wlntrsldler]

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope. A greater woman wouldn't beg but I looked to the sky and said "Please."

The first time you burned offerings, you had hope that your father would acknowledge you. It was the day after you got to Camp Half-Blood. You burned your entire plate of food, choosing to starve for the night, in hopes that your father would offer his condolences. Perhaps, he'd empathize with you. You both lost someone, after all, you a sister and he a child.

But nothing happened. You thought you did it wrong, that your father just didn’t hear your prayers– he wasn’t ignoring you, of course not, what parent would ignore their grieving child? You stayed up the entire night reading ancient texts, knocking on the doors of cabins to speak to head counselors for guidance. You were too naive about this life to notice the pity in their eyes then. None of them had the heart to tell you that your father wouldn't show mercy, at least not in the way you wanted him to. They never did.

You tried again the next day, only to be met with the same fate. But Luke, who had heard of your attempts, saved half of the food he was given and knocked on the door of the lonely Zeus cabin to share it with you. He'd gotten in trouble for not burning an offering that day, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to let you go to bed hungry two nights in a row. 

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, then years, your offerings began to get smaller and smaller, until finally, prayers became more of a chore, a thing to check off on your to-do list. It stopped meaning something. It was three years of unanswered, half-hearted, prayers. 

Luke stumbled into Camp Half-Blood midday. A large gash was across his face, blood staining his skin. He was clutching his side, shirt nearly ripped to shreds, similar to how his skin was raw and frayed under his clothes. He'd used all his strength to carry himself into camp before falling to his knees when his eyes finally found you in the chaos of it all. 

He said your name once, voice hoarse and scratchy like Ladon clawed his way inside Luke, ripping out his vocal cords, not sparing a part of him from destruction. When he finally collapsed, you ran to him, smearing the red of his blood all over your own clothes, as the Apollo kids pried you away from him.

For the first time in three years, you were going to bed hungry again. The charred remnants of what would've been your dinner created a foul scent in the air. Luke’s blood was still lodged beneath your fingertips, staining your hands even after you’ve rubbed them raw. It made you sick. 

"Dad," You pleaded, watching the smoke fade into the night sky. Your tears were flowing down your face, chest heaving as you ignored the distant sounds of the campers you were meant to be looking after. "I haven't asked you for anything in years, but now I'm asking you this. They can't take him. Please, not Luke." 

For a moment the world seemed to still. The clouds in the sky disappeared, specks of white faded into the midnight blue. You turned around, looking for a sign of life somewhere, anywhere. There was nothing but silence, no sounds of owls hooting in conversation, no whistles of the air, no chatter of the few kids who stayed at camp. 

When the flame in front of you extinguished with a whoosh, the darkness engulfed you, leaving nothing but the thin light illuminated by the moon. Black smoke rose from the pit as you looked up to the sky, "Please." 

A flash of light vanished as quickly as it came. There appeared a ragged line perfectly between the peaks of the mountains, bright white, leaving a haze of silver in your vision. Then a rumble of the earth, shaking the ground your knees were glued to. Lighting and thunder. A sign that Zeus had heard you. 

A high-pitched noise rang across the world, different frequencies like it was caused by more than just one thing. The noise made you cover your ears with your open palms, groaning as you fell over by the sheer power of it. Then the world resumed, like what you just witnessed, what you just experienced, was a glitch in the fabric of time. 

Your offerings were nothing but ashes now and the clouds returned to the sky, this time carrying the weight of water as droplets fell on your bare skin. You stood up, rushing to the infirmary, barely beating the relentless storm that was brewing. 

Lee Fletcher turned around at the sudden intrusion, eyes wide in shock for the second time that night. You stood at the door, trying to catch your breath. He smiled at you, as he took two steps to the left, then disappeared in the other room. Luke was propped on his bed, shoulders hunched over as he touched the bandages on his face. As if he felt your presence, he turned his head, wincing at the pain that shot up his spine when he overextended. Even with one eye taped shut, you saw his gaze soften. 

His voice came out as a whisper, barely audible, but you still heard it. "Hey, you." 

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own. If it wasn't for the sounds of your footsteps pounding against the wooden floors, if it wasn't for your hands reaching over to touch Luke's face, warmth spreading against your skin to anchor you, to show you that he's really there in front of you, you wouldn't have believed that this was real. 

The gods were cruel sometimes. They messed with your head until you were questioning your own sanity. At first, you thought this was one of their games, one of the things they did to toy with mortals for their own entertainment. Perhaps, Luke wasn’t really here; But then you felt it– his heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Home. This was real.

"You're okay," You cried, hands grazing over every part of his body. You tried to ignore the raised flesh under the bandages, running across large expanses of his skin. The scars were still fresh, blotches of red marking the white cloth. "You're okay." 

"I'm okay," He repeated, a side smile appearing on his face. His hands gripped your waist, needing to feel you just as much as you needed to feel him. Luke wanted to tell you that all he thought of was you the whole time. Even when the sides of his vision darkened, and all he could do was drag himself through the familiar neck of the Montauk woods, it was the image of you that he kept chasing. 

You, waiting for him under the shade of Thalia’s tree. You, shaking him awake in the Hermes cabin to start your rounds around camp. You, smiling at him like there was something worth living for in this life. You. 

Luke wanted to tell you that it was the promise of spending life with you, even if he was nothing more than your best friend to you, that kept him hanging onto the thread of life. If he survived this, he swore to himself that he'd tell you how he truly felt about you. He couldn't die without you knowing.

"I shouldn't have lied to you," You said, "I should've told you to stay like I wanted to." 

Luke shook his head, "This isn't on you. I wasn't fit to go on this quest. I failed." 

"You're the strongest person I know, Luke." 

"This wasn't a test of strength," He snarled. Luke always got like this when he talked about things related to his father and the gods. Resentment dripped from his voice like honey. It wasn't a tone you were too familiar with because he never spoke to you like this. "I was right. This was a test of something else. He sent me on this quest to fail... and I fell for it." 

Luke did things with conviction. He was born to be a leader and it showed. He never cowered from a challenge. He held his head high, even when things didn't go his way. He learned from his mistakes and he made sure it would never happen again. 

But sometimes, in the rare moments where the pain of failure pierces his heart, he turns into the little boy you once met. The same one who did things for the approval of his father. The same one who defied the odds and fell into the traps of the insincerity of the gods. The same one who blamed himself for not being good enough– not good enough to save his mother from the Oracle, not good enough to save his friend, not good enough to warrant more than two sentences from his father. 

You always said that you and Luke were two sides of the same coin, both burdened by the feeling of knowing you should’ve done more, but differed in the way you went about life. Luke welcomed his responsibilities, fueled by his search for glory, while you shied away from this life as much as you could. 

Your mouth felt dry as the heavy raindrops trickled against the window pane, "I'm glad you're still here." 

"I couldn't leave you here on your own," He replied, voice dropping to a whisper. His hands tugged you closer to him. You let him wrap his arms around you, feeling his heart against your chest. "Can I tell you something?" 

"Always." 

"I–" This was it. He couldn't wait anymore, not when he faced death and all he could think of was how his heart would ache, longing for you, until your time came to join him in the afterlife. Even on the brink of his demise, all he could think of was you. He wasn’t afraid of dying, he was afraid of being in Elysium without you. Would it even be a paradise if you weren’t there?

Luke's words got caught in his throat. His confidence was at an all-time low. If you rejected him now, he doesn't think he'd be able to bear it. He didn't think he could handle the thought of facing the repercussions of this failed quest without you by his side. He cleared his throat, "I-I'm tired. Will you stay here tonight?" 

You nodded, running your hands through his hair as you gently laid him down on the bed, careful not to put pressure on his wounds. You kept your distance, afraid to cause more harm than good, but Luke was not having any of it. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his weak body. He couldn’t move much in fear that he’d tear his skin even more with any slight movement, but that was the least of his worries. In fact, he had no worries now.

He made it to Camp Half-Blood, alive, albeit a failure, but he was with you. There were no worries in the world anymore. 

“Luke?” You whispered. You turned to face him, recognizing the face you’ve grown to love even in the darkness of the cabin. The flashes of lightning illuminated his face every so often. Despite all of this, he still looked beautiful. Your Luke always did. 

“Hm?” He hummed, eye fluttering open at the sound of your voice. The noise of the storm was drowned out by your soft breaths against his cheek, warm and comforting. “What is it?” 

“You know I love you, right?” You professed, reaching up to touch the uncovered side of his face. He melted into your touch, feeling safe and seen in such a small action. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t make it.” 

“You should know by now that I’ll never leave you,” He chuckled, nudging your nose with his. “I’ll be kicking and screaming if they ever try to keep me away from you. They’ll have to send more than one dragon to keep me from you.” 

You laughed, “You’re insane, you know that?.” 

“I know,” He looked down at your lips. You’d both been in situations like this before, caught in the magnetic pull of each other, but had enough strength to pull away before either of you could do anything that would lead to regret. “For the record, I love you, too.” 

“Do you?” You breathed out, wondering if he understood your question. You said it to each other often. You both let it linger in the air, subtext and unsaid words on the tips of your tongues. “Do you love me?” 

The way you were looking at him made his heart race. Is it the right time to tell you everything? Is it too soon? Will you think that he was just saying these things because of what happened? Would you trust him if he told you that he loved you in every way that a person could ever love another? 

If he asked you if you trusted him with your life, you’d say yes with no hesitation. You’d trusted him with your life since you first met him. All his life, Luke had been taught to be wary of the people he met, but not when he met you. It was like you saw right through him. You understood him like nobody he’d ever met. 

“I love you,” He said, hoping that it was enough to show you. If he had his way, he would let you peek into his mind, his soul, and his heart, just so you’d see that all of him yearned for you. 

“Do you–” You paused, tilting your head to brush your lips against his. The storm began to calm outside. “Do you love me like this?” 

Luke’s grip on your waist tightened, hands burning against the exposed flesh on your lower back, “Yes. Always.” 

You sighed, placing your lips on his. You felt Luke shiver at the feeling. His lips moved against your own in a gentle kiss, innocent and kind. The rain ceased. You pulled away from him, continuing to trace patterns on his skin. Luke’s face relaxed as he held you in his arms, letting the tiredness in his bones win. 

When the both of you woke the next morning, the sun was shining brightly through the curtains, with no traces of last night’s storm to be seen.

[roosterforme]

How Do You Feel About the Parking Lot? (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, fluff

You were excited at first. Very excited. You showed off your ring to everyone and gushed over the fact that you were engaged. And while you were still wearing his mom's engagement ring, it was becoming obvious to Bradley that things were not quite as they should be.

"Hey," he said softly as he walked into the kitchen. It was exactly nine weeks ago that he'd proposed in the dining room and you'd happily accepted that ring that glittered on your finger right now. But tonight you just mumbled something at him without looking up from your computer where you sat at the island. It was nearly midnight on Friday, and he would have given anything for you to start planning this wedding with him. "Are you coming to bed soon? I thought we could talk about potential wedding dates."

"Oh," you replied without looking up at him. "I'm still putting this presentation together."

Bradley sighed. "Baby Girl, you've been working nonstop for weeks. I just want... a little bit of your time." He wanted a lot of things, actually. Like a long snuggle on the couch while you and he watched a movie, or a soak in the tub together. He'd love a blowjob or pinning your hands above your head while he slammed you into the bed. But mostly he'd love to plan his wedding to you, because more than anything, he wanted to get married this year. And it was already late September. 

You glanced up at him and adjusted your glasses. "How about tomorrow? I really need to get this done before my work trip."

"Sure," he whispered before pecking you on the cheek and heading off to climb into bed alone. 

But it only got worse from there. You worked all weekend. On Monday, you didn't come home until seven o'clock. Tuesday was eight o'clock. By Wednesday, he wasn't sure if you were even eating or sleeping any longer. And worse yet, you were leaving for Annapolis in a few days. Bradley wouldn't even see you for a week. Not that he really saw you now, he supposed. 

He ate a bowl of cereal for dinner before sinking down onto the couch with Tramp and a bottle of scotch. He turned on Real Housewives, but he wasn't really watching it. He took a sip, and it burned. But the next one didn't. And neither did the one after that. He started to feel better. But he'd stop when you got home. 

Another episode started, but it still wasn't holding his attention the way you would have, and that's when he realized it was once again seven o'clock, and you still weren't home. When his phone rang, he sloshed some of the alcohol onto his tee shirt reaching for it, and he was praying it was you calling to tell him you were on your way home. 

He pressed his lips together and then took a deep breath before he answered. "Hi, mom."

"Bradley! I haven't heard from the two of you in days! How's your lovely fiancée? And Tramp?"

The dog must have heard her voice through the phone, because he perked right up. But Bradley couldn't answer with anything other than a raspy, "Fine." 

The line went silent. "Are you sick? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, mom," he lied. "How are you? How's dad?"

"Well, I went to lunch with Brenda, and I got the scoop on all of her kids. And your dad needs hearing aids, but he keeps arguing with me about it. Maybe you can talk some sense into him, if he can even hear you."

"Okay," he replied, realizing the room had started spinning when he leaned back against the couch.

"Bradley, are you drunk?"

How could she possibly tell? His own wife-to-be couldn't seem to see what was going on, but Carole could tell by his voice from almost three thousand miles away. "I'm... fine, mom. I need to take Tramp for a walk. I love you and dad. Bye."

Then he ended the call, because he could feel tears in his eyes. And when you got home at nine, he was already asleep. 

-------------------------

You needed to go to happy hour with your boss and coworkers on Friday, but you really didn't want to. You'd been pulling twelve hour days, and you were so exhausted, you just wanted to climb into bed with Bradley and sleep until you left for Maryland on a Saturday night red eye flight. You also really needed to tell him that he had to lay off the wedding planning until you finished this work project. It was just a few months of all these extra hours, and you desperately wanted to be promoted. 

Your plan was to stop home quickly and change out of your uniform before heading back out with everyone to celebrate that fact that you were going to present your research at the Naval Academy. When you pulled into the driveway in your shitty, little red car, the Bronco was already there. But when you looked around the house for Bradley, you didn't immediately see him. But then you heard his voice through the open sliding glass door. He was sitting on the back patio in just his gym shorts with his back to the door and a half empty bottle of scotch set on his knee. 

His voice sounded miserable as he said, "I tried, mom. She just... doesn't seem to want to. I don't know what I did wrong." 

You froze in place. He had to be talking about you. Embarrassment and sadness filled you as you listened to what he said next. 

"I really wanted to get married this year."

You ran down the hallway to the bedroom as you fought off your tears. You had to get changed and go right now while you still could. In another week, you'd have a little more time to talk to him about the fact that you couldn't plan a wedding and get married in the next three months with your current schedule. 

You left the house again without talking to him, but he was still sitting on the patio on the phone. And when he dropped you off at the airport the following evening, he didn't seem to want to let you go as he whispered, "I love you, Sweetheart," and ran his thumb along your ring. 

"I love you too, Roo. I'll be home in a week, and then we can talk about maybe planning a wedding for next year?"

He swallowed hard and nodded. "If that's what you want."

---------------------------

When you landed in Maryland on Sunday morning, you were still exhausted and looking forward to crashing until your presentation on Monday. But Carole called you when you were at the baggage claim, and you knew you had to answer. A guilty feeling was about to eat you alive as you put on a bubbly voice and said, "Hi!"

"Have you arrived in Annapolis?" she asked straightaway, and you sighed because at least she didn't sound angry with you. 

"I did," you told her softly. "Still at the airport."

"Perfect," she replied. "I'll leave now, and I'll be there in less than fours hours, and we can go get lunch."

You were so stunned, you watched your bag go past without realizing you needed to pick it up. "You're going to drive up from Virginia?" you asked her slowly.

"Yes. I'm grabbing my keys right now. Bye, Goose! I'll be back later!" You listened to her call out to her husband, and then a few seconds later, you heard a door close and a car start. She was actually going to drive up here.

"Oh, okay," you muttered, pressing your lips together, embarrassed about where you'd left things with her son. "I'll... see you in a few hours."

You managed to take a short, restless nap while you waited for Carole to arrive. You changed into a simple dress and put on some makeup, but you didn't really feel any better until you met her at a restaurant in the city. She rushed down the sidewalk toward you with a bright smile on her face. "My sweet girl!" she called out, wrapping you up in a hug next to a few tables full of people enjoying their lunch outside. "It's been too long." She kissed your cheek and started to lead you inside. 

"Thanks for driving all the way up here," you told her, not bothering to fight the smile tugging your lips. She was absolute sunshine, and it was pointless to try to resist it. "You didn't have to do this."

"Nonsense," she said as the two of you made your way to a booth. "I wanted to see my future daughter-in-law."

You nodded and enjoyed some pleasant conversation. She told you all about Goose's appointment with an audiologist and about Brenda's kids. And after you finished your avocado toast and bowl of soup, she said, "Now, I think we should talk about what's really important."

Her voice wasn't unkind, and she was still smiling softly, but you knew what was coming as you whispered, "Okay."

Carole reached across the table and took your hand gently in hers. "I know you're smart and independent. And I also know that's part of why Bradley loves you so much. You don't need him. He's not offering you anything you can't get on your own or with someone else. You chose him, because you want him." Tears started to fill your eyes, and you had to swallow against the lump in your throat. "And he just wants you to be happy, so he would never tell you to your face that you're hurting him."

You tried to speak, but you just made a pathetic sound and started to sob. "I don't want to hurt him."

"I know you don't," she replied softly, squeezing your hand. "I know you're not trying to. But I think you need to tell him once and for all that you don't want to get married this year so he can finally get used to the idea of waiting a bit."

You buried your face in your free hand. Why were you trying to push it off anyway? It's not like you really cared where you got married or what the two of you were wearing. Planning some sort of huge celebration was not something you wanted to spend your time doing. You wanted to be with Bradley exactly as you were right now, just with two more rings and a certificate involved. 

When you looked up at Carole, you whispered, "I don't really think I actually want to wait. And I don't want you to hate me either."

"No," she gasped, standing and coming to sit next to your on your side of the booth. She kissed your tear streaked cheek and whispered, "I could never, my sweet darling girl. I think you just need to talk to Bradley, okay? Can you promise me you'll give him a few hours of your full attention? And maybe let him know how much he still means to you?"

"Yes," you croaked, and you let her hold you as you cried.

---------------------------

The week without you was kind of miserable. Bradley managed to dump the rest of the bottle of scotch at Carole's urging over the phone. And he did notice that she and Goose started calling with a bit more frequency which he didn't really mind. But the best part was that fact that you called him every night before you went to bed. 

Every time he answered your calls, his heart thundered in his chest. And as soon as he called you Sweetheart, he could practically hear you smiling through the phone. "I can't wait to pick you up on Friday," he said over and over. If he just felt like he mattered to you again, then he could wait until next year to get married. That was no big deal in the grand scheme of things.

But when he met you in baggage claim at San Diego International late on Friday night, he was so surprised, he could barely speak. You ran for him with a garment bag in your arms, but you let it fall to the floor when you reached him. "Roo," you moaned as soon as you were in his grasp. "I missed you so much." You kissed him deeply. "I just got off the phone with your mom again. And I didn't tell you before, but I went to see my friend Caleb a few days ago," you said as you smirked.

"The tattoo artist?" he asked as he kissed your cheek fifteen times. When you nodded he asked, "What's in the garment bag?"

"My wedding dress."

"Holy shit." He scooped it up off the floor and held it tight. "You bought a dress?" he asked, trying to hold you and the garment bag both to his chest at the same time.

"Yes," you told him matter-of-factly as you tugged him toward the exit while you kissed his lips. "How do you feel about getting married in the parking lot in two months?"

------------------------

[bellysoupset]

Sick at Home - Part 2

-

Vince woke up a little past midnight, with the noise of the front door opening and closing.

There was giggling down the hall and Vince sighed, peeling Liv off of him — she was knocked out and still burning up, but not quite as much as before.

Downstairs, the living room lights were off, but the kitchen was on and Vince leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching as Rita and Maryann, Sophia's friends, scoured the fridge for food. His own sister was slumped over the kitchen island, head in her hands and clearly drunk.

"Uh-hum," Vince cleared his throat and the two girls squealed, jumping up. Sophia simply lifted up her head and let out a groan.

"Mr. Monacelli-" "Mr. Moan- I mean, Monacelli!"

Vince stared at them, amused, before rolling his eyes and looking at Sophia, "what happened to I'm not gonna drink, Vince?"

"Uhhhm... M'not drunk," Sophia slurred, which would've been a lot more believable if she wasn't hugging the counter. Vince scoffed, walking further into the kitchen.

"What about you two?" he squinted at the girls and Maryann wavered, while Rita's face turned beet red.

"We're not drunk! We're not!"

"Yeah, there wasn't even anything to get drunk on," Maryann pouted, "they bought a two pack, for twenty people. I told you, Josh is super cheap," she turned to glare at Rita and the girl waved her off quickly, still looking mortified Vince was standing in front of her.

"I'm not sure I believe you," Vince groaned, then jumped as Sophia slid down her stool, falling on her ass on the ground. He couldn't help but cackle, crossing the room to help her up, "not drunk, uh?"

"Not- no," Sophia whined, she wrangled herself away from him, stumbling and bracing against the counter, "not drunk..."

Vince's amused smile slipped and fell as her friends chirped in, "yeah, she had like one beer. Hey bitch, sit down, you're gonna fall again."

"Lang-" he started to say automatically, before pausing, "one beer? Nothing else?"

"Nope," Maryann popped the P of her word, turning to Rita, "let's go?"

"Did anyone hand her any other drink?" Vince had completely tuned the teenagers out, his blood suddenly going cold. A memory of Wendy sitting in her bathtub looking completely destroyed flashed before his eyes, "anything? Even water?"

"No..." Rita frowned, "why? What's wrong?"

"You don't see- She's acting- Bambi, c'mere," Vince stepped closer despite his prickly little sister jumping back, "look at me, Soph," he cupped her face to force her to look at him, fully expecting to find her pupils blown, only to startle as his hand met burning skin, "Aw, Sophia..."

"What's going on?" Her best friend stepped closer, "Soph?"

"She's okay," he breathed out relief and nearly melted on a puddle as Soph lowered her head to his shoulder and whined: "Vin, I don't feel well..."

"She's just sick," he reassured Rita, the girl's big brown eyes squinting at her friend in concern, "I think you two should go, before you end up catching this... Do you want me to call you an Uber? Or drive you home?"

"We're not drunk, Mr. Moan," Maryann rolled her eyes, fishing out the car keys from her purse. Her personality was sarcastic and prickly like Sophia's, but Vince felt a vindictive sense of relief at the fact he knew Mary wasn't Soph's closest friend, "we can drive ourselves."

"Uh-hum," he wasn't sure he believed them, but there were more pressing issues at hand. They seemed very alert, so Vince sighed and gave in, "alright, uh- Get home safe."

"Feel better, Soph," Rita waved to her friend, while Maryann grabbed her by the wrist to drag her out, with a stolen bottle of juice in her hands.

"Your friends are so weird," Vince whispered, turning to face his sister. She let out a huff, cheek pressed to his bicep and eyes shut, "let's get you to bed, kiddo."

"My head's hurting," Sophia groaned and Vince wrapped a hand around her elbow, guiding her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"You got a fever," he explained, a hand hoovering behind her back as they climbed up the stairs, "I think you caught Liv's bug."

"Liv- Liv's sick?" Sophia frowned, stopping at the landing of the stairs and glancing at Livia's white door, covered in pink stickers, just ahead of them, "I thought she was just being whiny because Ma and Babbo are gone..."

"She's got a stomach flu," Vince cringed, grabbing Sophia's shoulders and steering her away from their baby sister's room, "and she's finally sleeping now, so leave her be. I'm gonna get you some meds... Are you feeling nauseous at all?"

She shook her head, falling sit on her bed and groaning, "just a headache and dizzy..."

"Alright," Vince shuffled uselessly, wanting to fuss over her in the same way he did Liv and knowing full well Sophia was going to bite his head off, "I'm gonna get you some Tylenol for the headache and a bottle of water. You need anything else?"

"No," she yawned, starting to remove all of her rings and chains.

Instead of just grabbing the pills in his parent's first aid kid, Vince grabbed the whole plastic case, as well as a bucket downstairs and Gatorade. Sophia didn't seem nauseous, but he thought that was a matter of when, not if.

He stepped back in her room and let out a chuckle, "where the hell did you find that, Soph?"

His sister was wearing a combo of her own PJs little shorts, with one of his big team uniforms on top, back from his high school days, fitting on her like a dress.

"It's comfy, Ma said I could keep all of them," Sophia yawned, slipping under the covers and rolling on the bed so her face was buried in the pillows. On her back Monacelli was written in big white letters against the black fabric.

"Well, not all of them, I wanna frame one," Vince pouted, planting the Gatorade on her bedside table and the bucket next to her bed, "take your meds," he poked her shoulder and Sophia let out a groan, but grabbed the pills he was handing her without a complaint and swallowed them with a Gatorade gulp.

"Can I sleep now?" She yawned again and Vince sighed, nodding and lingering like a worried mother. He hadn't taken her temperature and Sophia was going to be mad if he insisted on it now... "Are you gonna just stand there? Don't be a creep, get out of my room."

Point in case.

Vince rolled his eyes, "I'm gonna be in my room, just yell if you need anything. I'm leaving all doors open."

"Okay," she huffed, sounding exhausted, then turned her head, blue eyes piercing him, "go away."

He didn't bother answering, flipping her off and walking out of the bedroom. Before going to his own, he sneaked inside Liv's bedroom to check on her. The little girl was still sound asleep and still had a fever, so he dug through the first aid kit until he found the old ear thermometer and waited for it to beep.

Still a 101.5 ºF....

He flopped down in his own bed with a sigh, vision blurring with exhaustion as he texted Wendy, despite the fact it was nearly 1 AM. Vince never felt bad about texting his girlfriend late at night, since she wouldn't wake up with something as simple as a text notification anyway.

"Liv's sick, puked the meds twice already. Can I feed her more??"

He dropped the phone on the pillow and rolled on his side, muffling a tiny burp against the fabric. His own upset belly wasn't over, intestines still squeezing and cramping, making him feel slightly queasy.

It was almost 3 AM when he woke up with his phone screen lighting up. Wendy had sent an answer, so she was probably on shift instead of home.

HoneyBee: when did you give her the meds?

He was too sleepy to type an answer, instead hitting the voice note button, "hey honey, sorry for bothering you. It was around 9 PM."

Wendy didn't answer him, instead the phone switched into call mode and Vin let out a yawn, picking it up, "Hi..."

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" she sounded wide awake and Vince shook his head, before realizing she couldn't see him.

"It's fine, I have to go check on her ag-" he yawned, "again... How are you?"

"I'm fine, it's been a hectic night. I got pulled as an assistant into surgery, was super cool," she was speaking a mile a second, "if you fed it to her around 9 PM, it's safe by now. How high is the fever?"

"Nearly 102," Vince sat up slowly, his whole body felt heavy, "should I wake her up to feed her more meds?"

"Take her temperature again, if the fever went up then yeah. Fevers are dangerous with little kids," Wendy sounded almost excited, but he knew it was just the adrenaline still going through her.

"Mmm'kay," Vince pulled the phone away from his face as he let out another burp, this one not so tiny. When he pressed the device back to his ear, his girlfriend had been stunned into silence, "Wen?"

"You're feeling sick, aren't you?" He could almost see her glaring at him and Vince shrugged.

"I think I'm just tired," he said, which wasn't a lie, more like wishful thinking, "I'm gonna go check on them..."

"Them? Sophia is down as well?"

"I think so," he rubbed a hand over his face, "she had a fever, but wasn't puking like Liv."

"Do you need any help?" Wendy sounded concerned, "Vince, if you're sick-"

"I'm not sick," he insisted, "and you're at your job and four hours away. Relax, I can handle my sisters, I've done it a bunch of times before," granted he never had both of them sick at the same time.

"Alright... Call me later, I'm not gonna go home until 6:30," Wendy sent him a kiss and he promised her that he would, before mumbling an i-love-you and hanging up.

Livia's fever had climbed to 101.9, that he didn't like one bit, so Vince was back to crouching down next to her bed, shaking her awake. This time, he was prepared, with a bucket in his free hand and had left a bunch of towels on her bedside table as well.

His baby sister whined and tried to roll away, so he shook her once more, "Liv," he brushed the dark curls away from her face, "Livia, wake up..."

As soon as she did, her eyes welled up with tears and he sighed, "hey... Shh, baby, I'm here. What's wrong?"

"I want mamma," Livia pouted, her voice all hoarse, causing Vince's heart to squeeze.

"i know, I'm sorry," he pulled her into a hug, "I'm sorry."

She sniffled pitifully against his neck, pressing her overheated forehead to his shoulder, "my head hurts..."

"I got you some meds," Vince peeled her off gently, "can you take them? How's your tummy?"

"Hurts too," her bottom lip was trembling, dangerously close to tears, "I don't like this..."

"It's gonna be over soon," he pressed a kiss to her brow, grabbing the children's syrup and a spoon, "just one big gulp and you can go back to sleep, alright?"

"Okay," she made a face at the medicine, but took it without much whining and Vince helped her lie back down, freezing as she gagged and burped at the taste, but nothing came back up.

"Vinny," Livia pouted, "cuddle?"

"Cuddle," he agreed, smiling at her, "I just gotta check on Soph first, bambi."

"Sophie's sick?"

"Yeah," he fluffed Livia's blankets, "bucket is right here, okay? I'm gonna be back soon."

"Okay," she curled up, but simply shut her eyes, seeming ready to sleep once again. He left her door open, then walked to Sophia's bedroom.

Unlike Livia, who was a perfect doll, Sophia had kicked out all blankets and was currently sitting up against the headboard, the bucket on her lap as she drooled.

Vince grimaced, his own stomach flipping, "Aw, Soph," he crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed, gathering her long light brown hair into a ponytail, "so much for the medicine..."

"M'sorry," Sophia slurred, spitting in the bucket and curling up as much as she could, "I don't- My stomach-"

"I know, kiddo," Vince rubbed her back with the hand that wasn't holding her hair away from her mouth. He glanced past her shoulder and immediately regretted it. She had been sick already, an awful congealed mess was inside the bucket and his own stomach flipped at the sight. Vin turned his head, breathing through the nausea that was causing goosebumps to tickle at his skin and his mouth to taste weird.

Under his hold, Sophia convulsed and puked again. She was panting erratically now and Vince remembered his sister didn't do well with vomiting. She got sympathy nausea when others were sick and got really nervous when it was herself.

"Hey," he cupped her forehead with a hand, "hey, bambi, slow down. You're just gonna make yourself si-" she gagged and brought up another mouthful of acid and beer, letting out a pitiful whine.

"You're okay, I got you," Vince sighed, swallowing down the knot in his throat, "c'mon, one big burp, baby. Get it over with."

Sophia nodded, gulping down air and forcing up a burp that was deep and sickly, "God," she mumbled, spitting inside the bucket and belching again, "I feel gross..."

Vince patted her back like a baby's and it forced up another burp, that switched into a retch halfway through and Sophia buried her face back in the bucket, this time bringing up a powerful wave of vomit.

She started crying, still leaning over the bucket, words slurring into a pathetic chanting. Vince turned his head, moving his hand from her forehead to muffle a burp against his fist and gulping down when it brought with it a splash of puke.

Sophia let out a groan, "Vin..." she pulled back, "Vin, I don't- I don't feel well..." she straightened up fully, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, manners be damned and hyperventilating.

"It's the flu, bambi," Vince reassured her, "you're going to feel better by tomorrow, I promise-"

"No, I-" she squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the bucket in his arms and clearly trying to get up. She had a hand protectively on her belly and Vince grimaced as he realized why she was getting all frantic, "fuck, I- fuck-"

"Okay, c'mere," he planted the half full bucket on the ground, before jumping up and grabbing her by the elbow, "don't shit your pants, I got you."

"I'm- I-" she was getting all worked up and Vince cringed in worry and sympathy, "Vin-" Sophia never quite finished whatever she was going to say, because her belly let out a loud, upset gurgle and she folded in half, chest hiccupping as she brought up a mouthful of puke all over Vince's toes, her shirt and the hallway floor.

Vince jumped at that, his backburner nausea becoming pressing and urgent, causing him to clam a hand over his lips and close his eyes to avoid looking at the mess. Normally he was really good dealing with accidents, but tonight... The sensation of the liquid against his skin was more than enough to cause him to retch.

Next to him, Sophia grounded him quickly by letting out a sob. She curled up, hair getting in the way, and still hugging her belly fiercely, "M'sorry-Vin-" there was a desperate edge to her voice, and he wasn't sure if it was because of her normal reaction to puking or because she was about to mess herself up even more.

"I got you," his voice was a whole note deeper with queasiness, words sticking together, and Vince clammed his mouth shut, wrapping an arm around his sister's waist and all but dragging her to the bathroom she shared with Liv.

She was still crying, but conscious enough to shove him off the bathroom as soon as they were inside. Slamming the door on his face.

Vince wasn't offended, if anything he was relieved, as he sprinted down the hall himself and barely made it in time back to his suite, gagging over the sink.

The first retch left him breathless and deaf, but brought up nothing. However, the second one was accompanied by his stomach churning and Vince nearly projectile vomited inside the sink.

He opened the register to wash off the mess, trying not to think of the puke clinging to his toes or the clammy sensation all over him, or the way his lower belly apparently wanted to join in the mess by the fierce gurgling inside...

Vince collapsed sitting down in his toilet, grabbing the trash bin in order to puke at the same time his intestines emptied out once more, sending painful cramps that made him feel all jittery.

He wasn't sure how long it was until he felt wrung dry, head pounding from all the heaving, but he knew he couldn't let himself fall in bed like his body wanted to. There was a mess down the hallway that needed cleaning and Sophia who needed tending and Livia was still sporting a high fever...

Hell, did he have a fever?

Vince took a quick shower once again, spending most of it gagging fruitlessly over the drain, before forcing himself to keep going. Wiping down the puke from the wooden floors was a bigger challenge than he expected and he ended up dry heaving over the bucket half filled with water twice.

Just as he finished cleaning, he heard the bathroom door opening with a creak and Sophia's little voice, English lost as she had completely switched to Italian, "Vin?"

"Yeah?" He cleared his throat, trying to sound normal, "are you okay? Do you need help?"

"Can- Can you get me new pjs...?"

"Yeah, of course," he stood up from the ground with a grunt, wrapping an arm around his stomach and walking back to her room like an elderly man.

He was barely paying any attention as he grabbed a mismatched set of PJs from her first drawer, then stumbled back to the bathroom door and knocked, "Soph?"

"Just a second..." she sounded weak and it gave him a renewed strength to stand up straight. There'd be time to collapse later.

A minute later the door opened and his sister took the PJs, before shutting it again. She was wrapped in a towel, trembling like a leaf, her wet hair falling limply next to her face.

He heard shuffling around, then her retching once more and groaning, "oh no..."

"Soph?"

"Just a- Just a sec!" She yelled and Vince leaned against the door, trying to focus on her and not the fact his own nausea was building once more.

A minute later she opened the door, clad in her new PJs and grimacing as she saw the abandoned bucket near her door, "I'm really sorry about the mess..."

"It's okay," Vince breathed in, inspecting her, "how are you feeling?"

"Really dizzy," Sophia leaned against his side, uncharacteristically touchy and clingy. He hugged her closer and was about to guide her back to bed and go retrieve the thermometer, when Livia poked her head out of her bedroom.

"Vinny?"

Vince and Sophia both turned around, just as the little girl wrapped her arms around her belly, "I don't feel good..."

"God, don't puke now, please-" Sophia whined and Vince shot her a glare, crossing the hallway to scoop up his seven year old sister.

"That's alright, baby, let's get you to the bathroom..." he could feel the uncomfortable gurgling inside her tummy, pressed against his chest and Vince nearly gagged himself at the prospect of cleaning up more sick tonight, "Sophia, get in bed and take your temp, please. And some tylenol, it's all in Liv's bedroom."

"Uhmmmkay..." Sophia stumbled forward, then braced against the wall, breathing deeply, her skin deteriorating to translucent white. Vince stopped walking, only for Liv to let out a groan herself.

"Vinny-" there was an urgency in her voice and he wasn't sure who to even care to first. Sophia looked like she was going to collapse, but he decided he'd rather clean up puke than diarrhea as Livia's tummy let out another upset growl.

He sped up, planting her on the toilet just in time and grabbing the waste basket, holding it under her chin just as the kid's body decided to vacate of everything she had ever eaten.

Vince steadied her with one hand, the other one he pressed over his own mouth and nose and tried not to end up puking on his little sister's lap, since that would be a major dick move.

After what felt like an eternity, Livia stopped sobbing and vomiting and having the runs, so he flushed twice and closed the bin, putting it as far away as he could, "stay sit," he asked in a thick, nauseous voice, then leaned over the girl's sink and heaved himself.

Next to him he heard Livia let out a scared cry and Vince waved in her direction, grumbling between burps, "I'm okay- I'm alright..."

Vince coughed another splash of stomach acid, then washed the sink and his mouth, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. He looked a mess, "alright, baby, can you step in the shower, please?" he opened the warm water, "just wash up a bit, okay? I'll get you some PJs..." and check on Sophia. He was praying she hadn't puked in the hallway again.

"I- I- Are we dying?!" Livia sobbed, scared, and Vince had to force himself not to eyeroll. He kissed the top of her head, stripping her of her shirt — she had sweat through the fresh set of clothes — and grabbing her by the armpits, forcing her under the spray, nudity and water be damned.

"No, we're not dying, bambi," Vince stumbled slightly, shutting the toilet and handing Livia the soap bar, "wash up, okay? I'll be back in a minute. Sit down on the ground if you get dizzy, promise me."

"Okay," she was still crying and he hated that he had to step out of the bathroom, but those thoughts all but flew out of the window as he did and found Sophia curled up on the ground.

"Sophia!" He skipped to his knees, patting her cheeks, "Soph. Soph, open your eyes-" she was burning up, "Sophia, don't do this to me, open your eyes," Vince all but shook her like a rattle toy and his sister finally opened her eyes, dazed and in pain.

"Stop... Dizzy..." She slurred, letting her head fall forward, lolling like a broken doll. Vince cursed, throwing her arm around his neck and getting up, pulling her to his arms bridal style.

"Fucking hell," he cursed darkly, carrying her to bed and then running to Livia's room to grab the first aid kit, as well as the abandoned towels. He returned to the bathroom to wet them with cold water, only to remember about Liv...

"C-cold-" her teeth shattered and Vince grabbed her abandoned robe in one of the hooks, crouching down inside the shower area.

"C'mere, bambi, get your arms in- There you go, good girl," he kissed her temple, tying up the robe and picking her up like a toddler, "hold on to me, we'll go to bed in a second, let's just get this to Soph first..."

Livia yawned against his neck, still trembling and he wasn't entirely sure if he her fever had broken or his had risen to her level, because she felt cold to him.

He wet the towels, then walked back to Sophia's bedroom, sitting on the corner of the bed and starting to wipe his sister's face with the cold wet towels, sticking the baby thermometer in her ear, age be damned.

103ºF, fuck.

"Sophia," Vince shook her vehemently, "Sophia, wake up, I need you to take meds. C'mon, wake up," he dragged her half sitting up and his sister turned her face away with a groan as he pressed the pills to her lips, but Vince was scared and angry thanks to the panic cursing through him, "no, no drama. Drink up."

"Vin..." Sophia whined, opening her eyes, "please, don't- I don't feel well..."

His own eyes burned, he hated forcing them to do anything. He swallowed against the knot in his throat, "Soph, either you take the meds or we're going to the hospital," he said strongly.

The threat worked, because she opened her lips and swallowed the small pill, but it worked too well, since it caused Livia to pull back from her tight hug against his neck, horrified.

"Spital!?"

"Not you, bambi," Vince pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes, trying to rub his killer headache away. Wendy would be cursing him for not drinking any water. Had any of them been drinking water? He was a big guy, he could handle it, but Livia was tiny and Sophia was always on some bullshit diet, definitely prone to dehydration.

"Is Sophie dying?!"

"No one is dying," Vince groaned, pulling back so he could glare at Livia, "no one, you hear me? We just have a belly bug, it'll pass by tomorrow... I need you to drink some juice for me, Liv."

Her little face scrunched up in disgust as he picked up the abandoned Gatorade bottle on Sophia's bedside table, his teenage sister lying passed out between them, "I don't wanna..."

"I'm sorry, but you have to," he broke the seal and held it to her, "just one little gulp. C'mon."

It was with a lot of effort that he managed to get Livia to take two full gulps of it, then with even more so to have Sophia semiconscious enough to drink. He took a large gulp himself, despite it triggering his gag reflex, then yawned.

"Let's get you in bed, Liv," Vince stumbled up, holding his sister by the hand. She looked ready to fall asleep right there, in her robe, on top of Sophia.

They went through the third set of PJs of the night and finally Vince managed to tuck her in bed, dizzily trying to hold the thermometer to her ear. He lost it so many times that his little sister let out an annoyed groan and held it there herself, until they heard a beep.

101.2 Fº .... Was this good? Higher? Lower? He wasn't sure anymore.

Vince frowned, struggling to think, "did you take meds...?"

She nodded and Vince squinted at Livia, unsure if he believed her or not. Had it been before or after she threw up again. Could she take them again?

She yawned and Vince decided against the meds for now, hoping he was taking the right decision. He pressed a kiss to her brow, "I'm gonna be in Soph's room, okay? All lights are on."

"Okay," Livia was sleepy enough she didn't have any energy to ask him to stay.

It was a struggle to return to Sophia's bedroom. The hallway was spinning and he vaguely noticed he still needed to empty out the trashcan from both his and the girl's bathroom and get rid of the bucket filled with dirty water in the hallway...

Sophia's face was red thanks to the fever and Vince almost fell over her as he crouched next to her bed. She looked really warm, but when he pressed his hand to her forehead, she didn't feel all that warm. Her room was freezing.

Vince collapsed on her office chair, near her little study station and stretched out, planting a hand over his own unsettled stomach and trying to rub it. He still felt overstuffed and gross, even though he was more than empty. That one Gatorade gulp was sitting inside like a brick.

Vince dizzily fished out his phone from his sweatpants' pocket — had he gotten it wet? — then set up an alarm for 6 AM. He frowned at the hour, 4:40 AM.

He just hoped he felt better in two hours, otherwise they were doomed.

[mykoreanlove]

Hi gorgeous 💞

I have been binge reading your stories, loved it so much 💖

I hope it's not too much to ask but my birthday is on 14th March so I was wondering if you could write hyunjin (my bias) x f reader (me) x Bang chan (my bias wrecker) smut ff? Both of them dom and they give the reader a birthday gift (surprise me with your writing).

I would really appreciate it 🥺

Bye 👋

Hi cutie - thank you so much for reading and supporting <3 I always get the most hate when I write about Hyunjin, so it's nice to see that you're enjoying my stories.

I wish you a happy birthday, hopefully you get celebrated the way you deserve to be! :)

I'm currently sick in bed but wanted to write something spicy for you, let me know if you liked it.

All the best <3

************************************************************************

A birthday to remember

Hyunjin had frowned three years in a row as he had watched you unravel your birthday presents in an unimpressed manner.

No matter how hard he tried, he could never get it right. Sure, you were grateful about all the things he got you, but he knew you well enough to understand that you were smiling out of politeness, rather than pure and utter joy. 

Your boyfriend knew you like the back of his hands; he was more than acquainted with the way you threw your head back and tried to hide the little creases that formed next to your eyes when you were laughing wholeheartedly. He was familiar with how your eyes shined brightly or how your whole body vibrated with energy when you were deeply happy.

Unfortunately, his birthday presents had never gotten that reaction out of you.

This time however, he vowed to find the right gift for you. The perfect present that would sweep you off your feet.

That was his plan at least.

It was a late night at the company office and Hyunjin was dancing with his band mates, practicing for the upcoming tour. He messed up a lot of steps as his mind was too occupied with you. In his bag was a very expensive piece of jewelry, one that he had handcrafted himself, but he was still bothered by the thought of you not liking it. 

He took a glance at the clock on the wall - it was nearly midnight which meant it was your birthday in a couple of minutes. 

„Guys, let’s stop for tonight.“

Chan shut off the music and replied to some mails on his laptop while the others got up and left.

„Oh hey, y/n.“, Felix greeted cheerily on his way out.

Hyunjin shot up panicked, looking at you frantically.

„Babe, what are you doing here?“ 

You entered the practice room and shut the door behind you, laughing shyly. 

„Always happy to see you, too, my lovely boyfriend.“ 

You stuck out your tongue and walked towards him, hugging him tightly.

„Babe, I’m all sweaty. And besides, didn’t we agree to spend your birthday starting tomorrow morning? I had it all planned out…“, he whined.

You chuckled as you kissed his adorable pout, reassuring him.

„I couldn’t stand away from you, Jinnie. Are you mad?“

„Of course not, baby.“, he mumbled while kissing you. 

Your make-out session got interrupted by Chan who was clearing his throat.

„Y/N, hi. Always great to see you. Listen, Hyunjin promised to help me out with my workout since Changbin had already left. Can I borrow him for a second?“

You shrugged your shoulders and took a seat on the couch.

„Be my guest, Chan.“ 

Chan got on his back and started working on his abs while Hyunjin was monitoring his movements.

You were so entranced by watching them, Chan in particular. You always had a soft spot for him - sometimes even fantasizing about being fucked by him. You were in love with Hyunjin, oh you absolutely were, but sometimes you couldn’t help but lust after Chan’s broad shoulders and fantasize about licking his abs.

Sweat was building on his temples as he was working hard. 

Suddenly, you felt hot, licking your lips, and imagining what it would be like to be trapped underneath him with his sweat dropping on to you. Your gaze switched to your boyfriend who was holding him in place firmly and suddenly you imagined being trapped between both of them, held in place by one while the other was fucking you into oblivion.

You squeezed your legs, totally unaware of the fact that Hyunjin was watching you through the mirror.

He on the other hand smirked smugly, suddenly realizing what would make the perfect birthday present for you.

„Hyung, can you do the rest by yourself? There’s something I have to do.“, Hyunjin whispered. 

„Eh? Oh sure, go ahead.“ 

Hyunjin got up and walked over to you, grabbing you by your wrist and ushering you out of the room. 

„Where are we going?“

„Shut up and follow me.“, he hissed at you.

The heat in your body started to rise, spreading through every cell of your being.

Hyunjin was the most romantic and caring man you had ever dated unless it came to sex - he was an absolute asshole when it came to sex.

And you loved it. 

He was degrading, he was mean, he was everything that would make you cry under normal circumstances but being treated like that while he had his dick shoved into you?

Priceless.

He pushed you into the shower room, closing the door behind him. You stood still and waited for his command, automatically falling into the role of the submissive one.

He walked over to the other side of the room and leaned against the cold sink while watching you. 

„Take it all off.“, he said sternly. 

You started undressing, silently slipping out of the flower dress you were wearing. You stood before him in nothing but red lingerie. 

„I said take it all off.“, he hissed annoyed. 

Your fingers went behind your back and unclasped your bra, throwing it in the next corner while looking at him obediently. 

Hyunjin watched you with eyes that were filled with darkness and desire, while you were slipping your fingers into your lacy panties, sliding them off. 

He uncrossed his arms and propped himself on the sink, taking you all in. Even though it was your birthday he felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. 

„Come here.“, he commanded. 

You made your way over to him, excited about what was to come. 

„Get on your knees.“

You did as he said and kneeled before him, suddenly painfully aware of the cold surroundings. Instinctively, you fumbled with his pants, but he slapped away your hand.

„Did I say you could?“

You shook your head in shame. Hyunjin grabbed your chin forcefully and tilted your head, looking into your eyes strongly.

„Listen, brat. Did I say you could?“ 

„No...No…“, you stuttered.

„No what?“

„No, Mr. Hwang.“, you replied hastily. 

Hyunjin let go of you, slightly content as he watched you cowering in front of him.

„Now, tell me what you want.“

„I want you.“, you whispered silently.

Hyunjin walked behind you and tied your silky hair into a ponytail while repeating his question.

„Couldn’t hear you.“, he whispered into your ear.

„I want you.“, you said proudly.

He yanked your hair back, pulling at your ponytail.

„I want you what?“

„I want you, Mr. Hwang. I want you, Mr. Hwang, sir.“, you explained hastily. 

He let go of you as he cooed into your ear.

„Good girl.“

He had not even started yet, and you felt yourself leaking already. 

Hyunjin went back to the sink and positioned himself in front of you. He pulled down his pants, giving away his enormous erection. 

You gasped at the sight - he still had the same effect on you. 

„Tell me what you want to do to me. Now.“, he commanded sternly. 

You gulped, trying to hold yourself back.

„Touch you. Kiss your cock. Lick it. Suck on it. Make you cum. On me. In me. Swallow it all. I really want to, Mr. Hwang.“

You looked up at him shyly, waiting for his sign to proceed. However, you didn’t notice his green light as you were admiring his ethereal beauty. God, he was beyond beautiful. Your hands wandered to his shaft greedily, tracing along the veins of his cock. Silver pre-cum was glistening on his tip, getting all your attention. You felt his hand slap your cheek as you were about to suck him off. 

You shot back, touching the reddened, tingling area. 

„Did I say you could?“

You shook your head hastily. 

„No. No, you didn’t. I am sorry, Mr. Hwang.“

He smirked devilishly.

„Oh, you will be, baby. You will be.“

You approached him again, placing your hands flat on his thighs.

„May I suck you off, Mr. Hwang?“

You could have sworn his dick got harder hearing you talk like that. His eyes were piercing through you by now.

„You really want to, huh?“

„Yes, Mr. Hwang. Please let me be good for you.“, you begged silently.

„Fine. Be a good girl then.“

Your eyes sparkled at his approval while your lips got to work immediately.

You moaned the sweetest moans while you swallowed him all, he was as tasty as he was gorgeous. Hyunjin knew that he could use you as he pleased, so he did just that.

„Let me fuck your throat, baby.“

He pushed himself into you, harder and faster, which made you whimper and nearly choke on his dick. You were looking at him with tears in your eyes, loving every second of it.

He was breathing heavily while fucking your mouth, the vein on his forehead already popping out. 

„That’s right, baby. Take me like the dirty slut you are. Take all of me.“

It didn’t take long for you to feel the warmth in your throat, tasting his savory cum on your tongue. 

You closed your eyes in enjoyment. You felt your best when he used you like that; when you were of service like that.

Hyunjin patted your head, loving you with all his heart exactly for all that you were.

Naughty and nice.

However, he wasn’t done just yet.

Chan was about to enter the shower room any minute, his workout had to be done by now. And once he entered? He would be greeted with the most perfect ass kneeling on the floor, sucking on his friend’s dick. Who could resist that?

Hyunjin smiled to himself, being utterly proud of his genius plan which would make him boyfriend of the century.

You opened your eyes again as you noticed the door behind you open. Panic flooded your system; you were kneeling butt-naked on the floor with Hyunjin’s dick in your mouth. Would you get in trouble?

“Didn’t expect to see that”, you heard Chan proclaim as he entered the shower room.

You looked up at Hyunjin with panic in your eyes, but he remained calm about it. Smug even. You tried to make sense of the situation, but he reassured you that everything was okay.

“Just enjoy it, baby”, he winked at you.

“Get up”, you heard Chan command.

You glanced one last time at Hyunjin who nodded his head, transferring control over to his hyung.

Shakily, you got on your feet and waited.

“Now turn around.”

Chan’s breath got stuck in his throat as he saw you in your rawest form. He had always thought that you were absolutely beautiful, breath-taking even but every time a thought like that entered his mind, he shut it out. He would never cross boundaries like that but on rare occasions he jerked off to the sound of you being fucked by his friend in the next room.

Chan knew that you thought about him in that way, too, as he had often caught you glaring at him while he was changing clothes or working out. He would have never assumed though that Hyunjin would share you; at least not like that.

“I heard it’s your birthday, y/n?”

You shook your head eagerly.

Chan approached you and whispered into your ear seductively.

“Tell me, baby girl, what do you want then?”

Your head was about to explode – was this really happening? His long fingers traced the soft skin on your collarbones, making his way down to your breasts. Chan circled around your nipples softly but squeezed them forcefully after as you had not replied quickly enough.

“I said what do you want, baby girl?”

“Fuck me.”, you whispered silently.

“Hmm? A bit louder, baby girl.”

“Fuck me!, you boldly proclaimed.

A warm chuckle escaped his lips, making his chest tremble in amusement. He was circling around you, eyeing you like prey.

“I see. Well, how do you want me to pleasure you then?”

He stopped right in front of you and lowered himself to get a good look at your face. Chan was observing every reaction as he asked his next questions.

“Do you want me to eat you out? Do you want me to hit it from the back? Do you want to sit on my face? Do you want to be fucked against the wall? Should I turn on the shower and make you really wet? How do you want it, baby girl?”

Hyunjin was watching with his back to the wall, holding his breath due to the immense suspense. Would you really do this?

You tilted your head up and looked into his eyes daringly.

“I want you to fuck me while I’m bent against the sink…”, you paused for a second. “While Hyunjin is watching us.”

A small gasp escaped his lips; you really wanted this.

Chan smirked and turned to Hyunjin. “Is he okay with this, though?”

You turned around slowly and looked at him beggingly.

“Is this alright, Mr. Hwang?”

God, he would let you do anything if you called him that. Hyunjin nodded, not saying a word.

Chan clapped his hands eagerly. “Let’s go then.”

He walked you over to the sink and stood behind you, admiring your backside once more.

“Mr. Hwang is a very lucky man, baby girl.”

Chan started kissing your neck and went down further, leaving wet kisses all over your body. He started out softly but got more aggressive as he continued, leaving all of you in dark marks.

Neck, shoulders, lower back, ass cheeks, thighs and even shins were marked as his.

You whimpered as his lips touched you – the slow anticipation was killing you.

“What’s that whimper, baby girl? Are you that needy?”

You nodded your head and prepped yourself on the sink; you needed him now.

With a swift motion he glided into you, making you gasp for air. Chan was big, stretching you out in ways you had never been stretched out before.

He thrusted himself into you forcefully and you couldn’t help but moan. Sounds of his hips hitting against your ass filled the room as well. The mirror above the sink was fogged, just as your mind was.

It was all too much.

The hotness in your core. The coldness of the sink. Hyunjin’s curious eyes that were watching. All your fantasies were coming true, and you had no idea how to process this.

Chan didn’t go easy on you.

The first orgasm hit you like a truck; it left you a whimpering mess.

The second orgasm shook you to your core; by now every person in the building must have heard you being deliciously fucked.

The third orgasm however took you out for good; your legs gave in, shaking uncontrollably now.

Chan held you strongly in his embrace, praising you for taking him so well.

His slender fingers collected his cum that was dripping out of you, running down your thighs. He looked at his fingers greedily and turned to Hyunjin, staring at him daringly as he was sucking his fingers. Your boyfriend was too shocked to speak though, simply watching his friend eliminating the evidence of his girl being fucked by another.

Chan turned around and kissed your neck, praising you all the way.

“What a good girl you are, y/n. I’m proud of you, baby girl. You’ll be thinking of this birthday forever, huh?”

You were too exhausted to think, less even speak and drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke you found yourself on the floor of the shower room, lovingly embraced in your boyfriend’s arms. He was gazing at you affectionately, wiping away the sweat on your forehead.

“Hi, baby”, he whispered as you finally woke up.

It took you a moment to realize that the memories of the past hour were indeed real and not some fantasies that you had made up.

“Jinnie, what was that?”, you smiled warmly.

He chuckled amused.

“Your birthday present, baby. Did you finally like it?”

[somerandomdudelmao]

I hope this kills you and makes your day at the exact same time. I'm winging this btw and it's all improv in mah brain so it might be longer than expected, idfk, we'll see.

Thanks so much for existing and giving us this comic in the first place now suffer-

-{###}-

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic. The holograhic screen lit up every surface within a 2-foot radius, the words big and bright against the darkened atmosphere. Beside himself, Mikey and Raph shivered on each side, looking anywhere but at Donnie's face. And even though Leo understood why they couldn't bare to look their brother in the eye right now, something deep inside of him still burned with annoyance. Because despite everything, it was still Donnie! They just couldn't see it yet!

Not like Leo could see very well past the hard, stable shell that his twin had built around himself. Not like he could tell how Donnie was really feeling. Not like his tireless efforts to reach out and help did anything noteworthy.

All it got him was...

"...Oh! And how could I forget the infirmary machinery as well!" Donnie continued, his voice raised in a professional manner that would make anyone else think he was just giving a regular presentation. "The infirmary duties will obviously be passed onto you, Leo, since aside from Casey, you're the most medically knowledgeable. Plus, I know you won't disappoint."

Of course, Leo wasn't anyone else. He could hear the manic cry for life and freedom and pain in his twin's voice, no matter how quiet. It was there, faint and far away, somewhere that not even Donnie could find it, but it was still there and it needed answering.

Donnie just kept refusing to look in the right direction.

---

It was well after midnight when Donnie pulled Leo aside for a chat about the affairs of taking on three positions at once. The leader of the resistance could barely piece together what Donnie was saying though, his words muffled by the bigger picture.

In the dead of night, as expected, Donnie's demeanor took a complete 180 shift, his expression barely masking the exhaustion and weakness he undoubtedly felt. His eyes were half-lidded and cloudy, a look that Leo's only ever seen thrice in those yellow and red irises. His shoulders, despite getting bonier and bonier by the day, were slouched in a lazy way that made the soft-shell look like a corpse. The purple hoodie he so much adored nearly reached his knees, the lost fat and muscle making the article of clothing seem bigger than it actually was.

But one of the worst aspects about Donnie's appearance didn't have anything to do with any signs of death or sickness. No... The thing that made Leo really want to throw up...?

Donatello was now shorter than Leonardo.

"C-come on, Donnie... Why would I need to learn any of this... Nerd... Stuff, if I already have you?"

A stupid question. Idiotic, dumb, foolish, stupid, demeaning, disgusting, stupid, gross, stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupid-

"Riiiiiight... Anyway, you'll need to remove that panel right there to get to the inner-workings of..."

But even though it was a stupid question, Donnie would've usually gone out of his way to answer it.

Why wouldn't he answer?

---

Two weeks.

It had only been two weeks.

But it felt like a lifetime.

Donnie wasn't dead yet, thank whatever god that's still out there that he wasn't, but Leo still felt like he was. Donnie was literally just there, he was just right in front of him, talking about the schematics of something or other, running his mouth like he's been doing for the past few days. Nothing truly notable about Donnie's health had really changed, no weakening brain cells or crippling disabilities. The only things that had changed were Donnie's height again and his now inability to walk.

His inability to walk. Just two weeks ago he was bouncing off the walls and biting people's noses off.

However, despite all of the physical evidence that Donnie was very clearly still here and alive, Leo couldn't help but feel like a part of him was gone. Dead, deceased, whisked away by the winds of time... It was hard to explain, even for him, how something inside of him just kind of... Faded away.

The Death, as Leo pessimistically liked to call it, was a slow and agonizing process, beginning all the way back when Donnie first revealed his worsening condition and then continuing on until now. It began with just a little click, a little pinprick of emptiness and loss and HURT that Leo didn't know how to fix. Then that pinprick slowly grew into a scab, then a paper cut, then a scratch, then a hole, and then finally evolved to a gaping wound that would take years to fix. It was just this... This agonizing feeling of emptiness and loneliness that Leo hadn't even felt when Raph first died. (Haha, funny. He's already died twice by now. Hilarious.) And no matter how hard Leo tried to heal it with potions and bandages and medicine and melatonin, it never went away.

Not even when Donnie stood directly in front of him.

And isn't that just hilarious? Isn't that great? Isn't that just Splendid? Isn't that just the coolest Revelation That LEO'S EVER FELT?? ISN'T THAT SO INTERESTING????

Isn't it funny?

---

Leo watched as Donnie continued talking, his movements exaggerated and his words ecstatic.

He watched the ghost wave goodbye with a dramatic flair and a little giddiness in his step, the small soft-shell turtle barely able to show his hand from inside the giant sleeve of his favorite hoodie.

Leonardo waved back, a sad, forced smile and a train track of dried tears gracing his face.

Red enveloped Leo's vision one final time, and soon enough...

The half of himself that somehow still remained...

Faded away.

-{###}-

Haha get Disaster Twin'd idiot-

DLFNRJRIFJJTG3OFOFJEVDKDOSGDEKEBSIFJEIBDJDJDNFBFKFBFKRBRJRJRJRJD

I mean. Thank you. This is amazing and I love it with all my heart💜💙

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 5

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n apparently it has been 28 days since the last chapter, but the good news is i now have 4 chapters written in advance so january at least will have content. for those who haven't seen the random announcements on my blog, i've been sick and honestly probably will be again in january so your patience is appreciated, and i'm sorry, i'm not usually this sporadic with a project like this! to my editing team, who are feeling betrayed seeing this surprise chapter in their notifications, my chrissy new years gift to you is not asking for edits in the holiday season, roast me in the chat if anything is wrong (keeps, that last part doesn't apply to you)

previous | masterlist | next

---

Even as you knock on the door to the studio, you're nervous.

Maybe you shouldn't be; it's been nearly a month exactly now, and you're fairly sure at this point that none of the boys hate you, though calling some of them friends has been easier said than done. Maybe that's why you're nervous in the first place, because it's been so long and you're still unsure where you stand within the group, especially with the one you're supposed to meet now...

It's not your fault. Well, maybe it is a little bit - you're aware that you're struggling to relax in their company, the way you had with the girls in Midnight or other trainees. But your schedules are so different too, you only see the others in practise, or in passing in the halls. Some days you practise on your own, while they are off on one schedule or another, living the life of idols that have built up their name, other days only half of them are there. Sometimes there is no dance practise scheduled at all, their own individual lessons or other commitments taking precedence.

It won't be like this forever, you just keep telling yourself. Three weeks more, and then you debut with the rest of them, and you're part of the group for real. Three weeks of hard work, and then, maybe, it gets easier.

Maybe. You've thought that before, only for an opportunity to slip away through your fingers. You wouldn't be surprised if it happened again.

The door opens - Chan, leaning over from his chair to tug on the door handle before he returns to his desk. "Come in," he says warmly, an arm gesturing you towards the couch behind him. It's already occupied by Changbin, who makes you smile when he gives you a hello and a wave. "Sit with me," he says, in Korean and then again in broken English, patting the cushions. "I'll be quiet, I promise."

You're reminded suddenly of how loud he can be, during practises or even when everyone is just sitting around, but you hesitate to mention it, sitting quietly beside him instead. "You can tell him to leave if you want," Chan adds, his back turning to his laptop. "He's not actually here for anything important."

"I'm here for emotional support," Changbin claims, only he puts on such a voice as he says it that it makes both of you laugh. "It's an important job."

"Okay, well." Chan's hands spread, like he doesn't have any say in the situation. "If you don't need support, you can tell him to leave."

"He can stay," you answer readily, and you don't really doubt your answer at all. Out of all the members, Changbin has been one of the friendliest; he'd been so warm and accepting on your first day, and gone out of his way in days since to talk to you or pull you into a joke when you were on the outskirts watching. Even if he was only doing it because you looked pathetically out of place among them, you appreciated it. 

"Cool," Chan says, and then he shifts in his chair like he's uncomfortable, his eyes straying towards his laptop momentarily. "So. I wanted to talk to you about the comeback."

"I figured as much," you reply, aware that your hands are fidgeting nervously in your lap.

Chan's mouth opens, like he's going to say something, and then he hesitates, glancing away again. Apprehension rises in your throat, bitter like the taste of bad coffee as you swallow it back down again. It's one thing if you're nervous - but if he is unsure about what he's about to say too, then it could be-

"I've thought about it, and I've decided that you're not going to debut with us on this album."

Bad.

Your heart stops and then starts again, your chest tightening around your lungs even though you've heard this story before. It shouldn't even surprise you by now, the let-down; thinking you might have now, finally, done the work and reaped the reward, and yet every time you seem to let the hope creep into your chest just so that you can crumble twice as hard. You hadn't even realised you'd become this married to the idea of joining Stray Kids in the last three weeks, and yet the idea of getting dropped again hurts like a pain in your chest.

This was your last chance. No one else will debut you. The world isn't that kind of kind.

"Okay," you say, through a jaw that feels like it won't move enough to form the words. "It's - I understand. I'm sorry that I couldn't do it."

"Hang on," Chan says, a hand hovering between you like he's ready to catch you if you turn to leave. "Just hear me out - it's not that you're not good enough, okay? I just think it will help you if we wait a little bit longer, and the company were happy to agree."

"You've worked hard," Changbin says beside you, his face earnest. "No one thinks you can't do it."

"No," Chan agrees. "I'm just looking at the timeline, and the schedule they've drawn up for you, and I think you'd do much better if we push debut back to our next comeback in September."

September. Three more months away, rather than three weeks; three more months to push through, nose to the grindstone, that deadline looming over your head. Three more months in which someone might realise they've made a grave mistake and pull you right back out again, when you'd been so close to that finish line. Three more months feeling like an imposter in these boys' lives, waiting for life to even out into some kind of normal.

"Is that okay?" Chan asks, and you bite down the spiral of thoughts that pulls your mind down towards a big, black hole and nod, trying to pretend that it's nothing. The frown on his face doesn't look convinced, nor does the sheet of paper that he reaches behind him to fetch, shoving it into your hands.

"I want you to understand," he says as you look down at the paper, forcing your fingers to only hold it gently before you can rip it. A schedule, the next three weeks of your life laid out in a neat little chart that is detailed down to the minute and overflowing with things to do. "This is the choice they've given us; either we push you through this schedule and extra dance practise and debut in three weeks, or we wait sixteen weeks, and you do all of these things with the rest of us in a reasonable timeframe. I've been looking at it all week, and...I think it's too much. Waiting gives us a song prepared for nine members, takes the pressure off of the managers, gives you time to get to know everyone..."

You're forced to swallow the lump in your throat as you read the schedule and realise that Chan is right; the next week is full of photoshoots and content creation, with no room left for the dance practise you know you need to keep up with. It's rushed, and it's daunting, and at first look you're not really sure at all how you would handle everything. It's the life you've been training for for years now, and yet so many of the things on this list you feel like you haven't trained for at all.

"You're right," you admit, around a tongue that sits too heavy in your mouth. "I don't know why they thought this would work in the first place, when I'm so-"

"Someone high up had a great idea, and wanted it seen through as fast as possible," Chan says before you can finish. "Stray Kids haven't had a really...successful year. Maybe they were thinking of dropping us unless something changed, maybe they just really liked you. They've already agreed to push your debut back to September anyway, so it's not something we need to worry about now."

"As long as they still think it's a good idea in September," you say, and you manage to keep your tone light even though it doesn't sound much like a joke to you at all.

Changbin is the one to speak up, his hand slapping the arm of the couch. "They can't mess with us like that," he declares in the kind of voice that says he has complete confidence in what he says. "You want to be in Stray Kids, you're in Stray Kids, and you're not leaving."

"Exactly," Chan says warmly, and you manage to muster up a smile even though that tension still squeezes tight in your chest at the thought of another three months of limbo, not knowing if you'll stay or if you'll go. "Now," he says, turning back to his laptop, "I have better news; I've got a part for you in God's Menu that I want to hear, and I can play the next title track for you..."

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98

[factorydefaultlu]

I have a slashers request for them reacting to coming home and sees their s/o waiting for them in bed wearing lingerie? (Thomas, Vincent and Albert Shaw)

Thomas Hewitt

When Tommy opened the door to he and his beloved's bedroom, he was surprised to see the room was dimly lit.

It was still early afternoon, a few hours before dinner. Perhaps his lover was feeling sick. Worry bubbled up inside him.

He closed the door behind him and began removing his mask. His lover must have heard him come in, the door to the bathroom creaked open.

"Close your eyes." they giggled as they spoke. Tommy was confused, but did as they asked. He made his way to sit on the edge of the bed, a small smile spread across his lips as he closed his eyes.

His heartbeat was heavy as he waited, for what, he didn't know. The bathroom door creaks again and he heard their feet pad across the floor.

He lightly jumps as they grip his shoulders, using him as leverage to climb onto his lap. Hands instinctively reach up to help them settle, the fabric of their shirt feels odd beneath his touch.

"Open them." they whisper to him once they've successfully straddled his thighs. Tommy's breath catches in his throat when his lashes flutter open.

His beloved was in a pink lace babydoll negligee. A wide smile on their perfect pink lips. He could feel his whole body heat up.

It took all his strength to not tear their outfit to shreds and fuck them into the mattress. No, he had to take his time and savor this.

Vincent Sinclair

When he had finally emerged from the cave he calls a workshop, it was well past midnight.

Vince expected his beloved to be in bed by that time, yet when he climbed the stairs he saw the light was on in their room.

He entered quietly, just in case they were sleeping. The door clicked shut behind him, and he turned to the bed.

The view that awaited him was nothing short of beautiful. They were lounged on their side, a novel in hand. The tight black lace of their lingerie hugged their body perfectly.

Their eyes flutter up to meet his and Vincent feels a pang of anxiety hit his chest. How long had they been waiting? He wished they would have hinted or something, he feels awful for working so late.

They just smile, and move to get up. Vincent rushes to them, keeping them sat at the edge of the bed. He shakes his head, and signs 'This for me?'

His beloved giggles and reaches for his hands. "Of course silly. Who else?" they bring his knuckles to their lips, kissing the calloused skin.

Vincent is sure he has found an angel to love. Although, the way he's about to defile them will be nothing short of sacrilegious.

Albert Shaw

The sun had nearly set, and Al had just gotten home from closing the store. He was surprised to find the house quiet.

A small drip of worry passed through his body as he walked through the dim living room.

Slowly he made his way to the bedroom, soft light glowed from under the door.

He quietly peered into the room, and a smirk played across his lips as he watched his beloved pull at the red lingerie that adorned their body.

They turned and modeled themselves in the mirror. Their eyes darted to Albert in the reflection of the glass, they nearly jumped out of their skin.

"Oh my God! I'm sorry, this was supposed to be a surprise." they pouted and turned to him. The smirk never faded, and he approached them.

His large hands gripped at their waist as he admired the lace on their skin. "Well hun, consider me surprised."

Albert twisted them, and turned them around as his hands roamed their body. He was inspecting every inch of them, and he liked what he saw.

"Wanna be my good girl tonight?"

[tomasweetheart]

I'M NOT A VIOLENT DOG, I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE.

pairing: i. hajime x gn!reader

includes: hurt/no comfort, iwa gets into a fight, blood mention, cursing, iwa and reader are friends, reader refuses to be with iwaizumi due to emotional constipation, pre-timeskip, w.c 3.0k

notes: "always an angel never a god", "i don't know why i am the way i am ; not strong enough to be your man", "i can't love you how you want me too", yeah. i'm having a fucking field day.

soundtrack: not strong enough, bite the hand

It's nearly midnight when you hear the soft raps against your front door. You cautiously open it to find a disheveled Hajime, bruised and battered with red blood trickling down his nose.

"...The other guy looks worse..." he mumbles, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, "...I didn't know where else to go, (y/n) I'm sorry. I had a fight with my dad and Oikawa is asleep for once — "

"Haji, just..." you say, holding up your hand with a sigh, moving to the side, "...just get inside, it's cold."

He's the last face you wanna see and the last person you want to offer a semblance of comfort for right now, but even though you haven't talked in weeks, he's still your friend.

"What was it this time?" you whisper, leading him in the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the tub and watches you rummage through the cabinet to find a first aid kit.

He can't help the way his eyes trail over your body, he wants to hold you. That was his first thought, he wants to hold you, feel you pressed against him while he sobs and apologizes for every little thing he's ever done wrong by you.

But he won't.

"Some guy, said somethin' stupid to me," he mumbled, looking down at his lap where his fists lay clenched in anger, "I don't...it's not right, I know, I know it isn't (y/n). I can't help it, I get so worked up over everything and then..."

He stops mid-sentence, breathing hitching as he raises his head to look at you. His gaze is pleading, begging you to understand a part of him that he won't even show you.

You offer him a sympathetic look for a split second before your eyebrows furrow, pressing the tissue against his nose and tilting his head up higher with your other hand on his chin.

"You can help it, Haji," you muttered, pulling back to look at him, your gaze almost pitying and it makes him sick to his stomach, "I know you can. You know what your problem is? You never know what you're feeling because all your emotions stack on top of each other like a jenga tower waiting to fall."

His own brows knit together, his own expression slowly turning to frustration, "You don't know shit about how I feel," he growls, "you don't know anything."

"You're right, I don't," you quip back, hand gripping his chin tighter, "how should I? You want me to love you, but you won't show every part of yourself. You're scared and you don't trust me enough to love you past all of it."

His gaze softens once more, pulling your hand away with a gentle tug and looking down at the bathroom floor in shame.

"I know you're scared, Haji," you whispered again, voice cracking with emotion as your eyes glazed over with tears, "I can't expect you not to be, but...you don't trust me. I get it, okay? It's hard to open up right away and that's not what I expect. I just want you to find a way to sort through it yourself."

How could he open up? Hajime Iwaizumi, the hothead, Oikawa Tooru's best friend. A side character to everything who's only there for the development of the main guy. It doesn't matter how he feels, it's a burden. It's who he is, what defines him. He loses that and he loses everything...except you, but he's not sure how much he wants to trade in his reputation for you yet.

And here you are, waiting for a man who doesn't know if he wants to change. Waiting for someone who you know is so much more than anger, than the side character. Waiting and waiting for when he sees that himself, but to no avail.

When he slowly lifts his head up to meet your gaze, you expect an apology. You expect a change in heart from him, a promise to figure out how to sort through it all. You can see his own eyes are watery, ironic the way he wouldn't let you see him cry. You expect everything except what he actually confesses.

"I'm moving to California."

[ldrfanatic]

the night i nearly lost you

Theodore Nott x Reader "13" Series pt 5 warnings - death, cursing, torture, reader almost gets killed

translator series masterlist <previous next chapter>

slytherin boys masterlist works

You were pacing through the dark corridor a little ways down from the room of requirement, turning your head every few seconds to look out for Filch. Theo had sent you an owl begging to meet you and here he was, late. You checked your watch again. 12:28. In his owl, Theo had asked to meet at midnight.

You sighed and tried to stop disappointment from settling in your stomach. Obviously this was some cruel sick joke, no doubt orchestrated by Mattheo. Just as you turned to make your way back to your dorm room, Theo appeared. "Wait! Y/n."

"What do you want Theo?" Theo wasn't the only one who was taken aback by the tone of your voice. Even you hadn't intended to be that rude. "I'm sorry. It's just I'm tired and you asked to me nearly half an hour ago!"

"I know. I apologize. I just," Theo let out a harsh breath through his nose and ran an olive-skinned hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for what I said to you on the train. My struggles... I know how much you care for me. Please. Just allow me to prove it to you. Just one date."

Your heart started to soften. For the first time since your Hogsmeade date, when you look at Theo, your heart swelled. Theo's eyes followed your actions as your hand reached up to pull nervously at the bracelet on your wrist. His eyes shined with recognition as he looked at it.

"You still wear that old thing?"

"Of course. You gave it to me. Theo I-" You were cut short as Theo yelped out in pain and began clutching his dark mark. He fell to his knees and let out another gut wrenching scream. Immediately, you ran to his side. When you looked, your skin began to crawl. The mark on his arm was moving. The jaw of the skull was opening to make way for a snake that was slithering down towards his wrist in fractional movements.

"Y/n Run."

"What? Why?!"

"They're here. The Death Eaters are coming."

You stepped back and stared at Theo in horror. He wasn't shocked or surprised. He knew this was happening. The apology wasn't just for what he said on the train. It was for what he did. He helped them. "Theo... Please tell me that this isn't what I think it is." The words came out in hiccupped sobs and his silence told you everything. He did this.

"I'm sorry. Please understand I had no choice. My father would've killed me."

"Run with me Theo. We can get away from all of this. The war. My parents set me up with safehouses and galleons. Once the Dark Lord makes his official return, all magical families are at risk. Please."

"Y/n. I'd love to."

"What is it we have here? Little Theodore has found something to play with." The voice of Bellatrix LeStrange sent chills down your spine. "Oh. It's my dear little blood traitor niece." Her eyes locked with yours and she raised her wand. Theo placed an arm out to her.

"NO."

"What's this? You want to do it yourself little Theo? Do it then." Bellatrix stepped close to Theo and raised his arm so that his wand was pointed directly at your chest. Your eyes immediately started to water. You'd gladly give your life for Theo's. She leaned in to whisper in his ear with a wicked smile. "My son says you've grown quite fond of her. Prove yourself to the Dark Lord. Kill her."

Theo's eyes watered and his arm started to shake.

"It's okay, Theo. I'd rather die by your hand than anyone else's. Just promise me that you won't let this turn you into your father."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF HIS FATHER IN THAT WAY?! YOU LITTLE BITCH. HIS FATHER IS AN ESTEEMED AND PROUD SERVANT OF THE DARK LORD!" Bellatrix came up behind you and placed her blade against the side of your next. "Kill her now, Theodore. Or I will."

Theo's eyes hardened and he steadied his arm. He mouthed 'I'm sorry' to you and you nodded your head softly in acceptance. You locked eyes with him. The last thing you would see in this life was Theodore Nott's eyes.

Suddenly, Draco ran behind Theo and Bellatrix threw you to the ground. "After him!" She took off running wildly with the Carrows following quickly. Theo walked up to you and helped you stand from the floor, then he pulled your crying form into his arms. "I'm so so sorry, cuore." You clutched him as close to you as possible. Theo pulled back slightly. Just enough to smash his lips onto yours.

"Let's go." He grabbed your hand in his and took off down the hall in the direction opposite of wherever Draco was running. You quickly noticed that he was leading you to the Dark Forest. "Where are we going, Theo?"

"I have a plan! We can escape Hogwarts this way."

You stopped reluctantly at the edge of the forest. A commotion was heard behind you. When you turned, you saw Harry Potter chasing after Snape, Bellatrix, and a few others. Suddenly, Potter fired a spell at Snape who deflected it and then the two began conversing. Bellatrix was dancing around Hagrid's burning hut and Draco, who look hilariously out of place, turned to look directly at you. But he didn't tell Bellatrix he'd seen the two of you. He just turned away and you thanked every God you could think of that your cousin had a sliver of his heart left.

Theo tugged on your wrist.

"Come on, Y/n." Tearing your gaze away from the scene, you took off after Theo into the trees. He guided you through the woods until you came to a clearing. A hippogriff was standing there chained to a tree.

"What is this, Theo?"

"I've been preparing this for you, Y/n. At this past Pureblood Ball, the one that you skipped, I met with your parents. I'm your escape plan. He knows where he's going, all you have to do is get on his back, and hold on tight."

"What do you mean? You're not coming with me?"

Theo grabbed ahold of your shaking form. "Listen to me. I can't come with you. If I go, my father will never stop looking for me. You'll be in danger constantly."

"I don't care! I'm not leaving without you Theo!"

Theo sighed. He'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. He raised his wand and made to cast Stupefy, but you blocked it. Then you pointed your wand directly at his chest. "I'm not going without you Theo." Your eyes were determined and your arm was steady. Theo on the other hand, was shaking like a leaf uncontrollably. He wouldn't fight you. He couldn't.

You held on tighter to Theo's waist as the wind blew through your hair. Wherever you were going, the journey was long. "How did the Death Eaters even get into Hogwarts?" Theo sighed and looked back at you. He'd hoped you wouldn't be asking these kinds of questions.

"I'd been tasked with helping him fix the issues he was having with the vanishing cabinet. I'm particularly adept with magical artifacts."

You continued silently for few minutes longer and then your melodic voice sounded in Theo's ears again. "But how can the Death Eaters take over Hogwarts? Dumbledore would never allow it."

Theo looked at you over his shoulder. "Draco's task was to kill Dumbledore. Should he fail, Snape made an unbreakable vow with your aunt that he would carry out the task if Draco failed to do so. And even if neither of them did, Bellatrix happily would."

"So they cornered him? And why does Bellatrix care if its Draco or Snape?"

"Not Bellatrix. Narcissa."

Your heart clenched in your chest. Though you hated the Malfoys and despised your cousin, Narcissa was your most favorite family member from that side of the family. She was always kind to you. When you'd stayed at Malfoy Manor in the years they hosted the Pureblood Ball, Narcissa was always there to make you comfortable. She hadn't done this out of fear of Voldemort nor spite for Dumbledore. She'd done it to protect her son.

Somehow that made you feel a little bit better. As unbearable as your cousin could be, without the influence of Voldemort or the disgusting vermin Lucius Malfoy, deep down he had a good heart. Knowing his mother was looking out for him where his father wasn't made your heart just a little bit happier. Theo's voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Hey. None of that matters now. I'll never let anything happen to you."

You buried your face into Theo's back and remained silent for the remainder of the journey. Finally, the hippogriff began to descent. "That's it, Quickwing. Nice and steady girl." Theo brushed his hand soothingly along the feathers on the animal's neck. As you got closer to the structure, you noticed two figures standing outside of it.

"Fleur!"

"Y/n!"

She pulled you into a tight hug and kissed all over your face. Fleur had been a close friend of yours during the Triwizard tournament. Gabrielle and Bill were standing off to the side with soft smiles. After he finished tying up Quickwing, Theo approached the four of you apprehensively. Bill immediately pointed his wand at him. You stepped in front of Theo with your arms spread wide but Bill didn't lower his wand.

"Step aside Y/n. I don't know why you've brought a Death Eater here, but he can't stay."

"Wait! Bill, please." You looked at him with pleading eyes until finally, he lowered his wand. "He helped me escape Hogwarts. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be alive."

Bill scoffed as Gabrielle hid behind him. "If it wasn't for him, your life wouldn't have been in danger in the first place. And now you've brought him here. To where my fiancee and her sister stay."

"I didn't even know I was coming here! Please understand. Theo risked his life and defied Voldemort for me. Please." Fleur walked up to Bill and grabbed his large hand in two of her smaller ones. "Amour."

"Fine. But I'm watching you..." He trailed off and stared expectedly at Theo.

"Nott. Theo Nott."

---

wc 4.1.2024

--- taglist @moonlightreader649

[prettyboykatsuki]

territorial woes | k. leona

✮ tags ; fem!reader (referred to as leonas woman very briefly) fluff, territorial / needy leona , he is sickly in love in this sorry they're so domestic, one singular sex joke, this is a college au so everyone is over 18 for sake of my sanity, sfw but this blog is 18+ so minors don't follow please and ty

✮ wc ; 2k (? ? ?)

✮ a /n ; im so embarassed that this is leaving my fingertips actually. i do have to clarify like... i dont rlly think leona gets jealous easily but he can be kind of childish bc he's spoiled if that makes sense lmao. i was so Plauged by this i couldnt sleep its like 4am. i took my melatonin at midnight im so sick. blame @/petrichorium i am not responsible.

✮ synopsis ; leona kingscholar is often annoyed, but not usually over something like this.

He shouldn't have come to class.

The clock on the wall is agitating. Tick, tick, tick. On repeat over and over, plainly the same and piercing. Leona is sensitive to his surroundings, and particularly to noise.

He hates loud noises and sharp cries and he hates the sound of the damn clock in Trein's classroom. He's never been a fan of the classroom setting, general lack of motivation aside. It goes against his very nature to listen to boring lectures and sit through assignments he's already done hundreds of times.

All of his education from being young royalty paid off but ultimately amounts to nothing, because if he wants to graduate he still has to do this all over again.

He's a hunter, so he's not opposed to sitting and lying in wait if there's a promise of reward at the end. If all this sitting around with a twitching ear and bored sigh would amount to anything he'd be a little less annoyed with attending.

And there was one, originally. A thing, that Leona had wanted (which he can only admit to himself begrudgingly) that was worth hauling his ass out of the peaceful botanical garden and into class today. That very thing which is currently giggling their heart out to one of those idiot freshman from the Heartslyabul dorm.

Tick, tick, tick. Leona snaps his jaw close and tears his eyes from the sight, nose scrunched in frustration with a knuckle pushed against his temple.

He wants to go back to his dorm. But he can't. He won't until he gets what he even came for.

The presence of another person alerts his senses, but he relaxes upon realizing it's Ruggie, sitting on the edge of his desk with that usual smug air about him. Leon passes him a glance but doesn't say a word.

"Somethin' troublin' you, my liege? Shyehehe."

Leona all but growls.

"Shut your trap or I'll hang you up by your tail."

"Ouch. That bothered by it, huh?"

"I'm not bothered by squat."

Ruggie laughs hard at that and Leona considers throwing him through a wall. Ruggie is also looking ahead where you at, staring a little more openly than Leona is. He whistles under his breath. He can't remember the names of the two brats, but they're always together. One of them with orange hair and the other with the short blue.

"They're pretty close with those two, yanno. Heard they were having sleep-overs and all durin' their first year.''

Leona narrows his eyes. The clock ticks on. Ruggie grins and Leona knows he should just up and leave. It's stupid to be hanging around here. It's lame that he's even looking. He should just go up there and—

"They're best friends, basically. Been like that since before you two had a thing going too. Way before that, I think."

Leona knows well enough what Ruggie is doing. What Hyena's are good at, goading his annoyance to push him to act. He's looking for a show, and Leona is nearly tempted to give him one. Nearly.

You're not the fierce type like the women back home. You probably wouldn't think twice about it, just bat your little lashes and wave your friends goodbye like the herbivore you are if he decided to drag you away. You'd pester him, follow him around while he acted moody and cold for a while before frowning.

You'd get mad at first, before huffing and saying sorry for something you didn't even do. Mumbling and poking around until Leona eventually drags you in his bed to nap instead of being outright about any of it. If his sister-in-law knew he was acting like such a kid to his woman, he'd never hear the end of it. It's that voice in his head that keeps him stuck in his chair, seething.

"Not like you to be so docile, King." Ruggie says. Leona shoots him a mean enough glare that he backs away in fear.

It's not like he's being docile. Not really. There's more to it than that.

Thing is, Leona is used to being chased. Regardless of his inferiority in birthright, he's still royalty. Royalty means plenty of people itching to get in his good graces to get a taste of the highlife. Leona is used to cheap tactics of seduction and luxury in order to earn his favor - he can smell it from away. He's always half expecting to uncover secret intentions.

It never happens. You are all by all measures, frustratingly sincere. Leona doesn't really know how to respond to it. You don't pay mind to his royalty or his ability aside from a normal amount of awe. You're an herbivore firstly, and a stranger to this world after that. Whatever traits in Leona you've latched onto, he can't wrap his head around nor does he understand.

It's the first time in his life that he's gotten into a romantic entanglement like this. Where everything is all lovey-dovey and things are so important. He's always been respectful to his women but he's never been seriously in love in his life. It's different from just being decent. He cares what you think to an extent that's unfamiliar. It's not like he'd ever fix his mouth to say all that, but it really matters that he does things the right way.

Leona doesn't usually act in self-interest, to begin with. Cocky as he may be - he's still king and kings act in the interest of his people. Regardless of what it looks like, you are part of his people. His pride, in more simple terms.

It's not being docile as much as it's an effort to show some respect for you.

Leona isn't usually jealous about petty, trivial shit. It doesn't matter to him what you do or who you do it with in your own time. He likes that you're independent, too.

He is however, a territorial apex predator and a prince. For better or for worse whenever he looks at you, all he can see is to prey animals encroaching on his territory.

That's the part of him that's raring to go. Teeth clenched and agitated, brows all drawn together in frustration. Leona wants to go back to his dorm, but he wont without what he came for. It's putting him in a bad mood.

But ultimately, he doesn't move from his spot. Ruggie leaves eventually when his mood has soured completely. His head is on the desk and he's got his eyes closed, but his ears twitched at the sound of your chair dragging on the floor.

"Can you guys walk Grimm back to the door? I'm gonna go with Leona. Thanks! See you later,"

And just like that, the classroom clears of the last nuisances occupying it. Leaving only you and Leona and that ticking clock together.

He hears you walk up to him before he sees it. Your voice is annoyingly pleasant to listen to.

"Leona? You sleeping already?"

He's starting to understand why his older brother folded at every single word that came out of his sister-in-laws mouth. He lifts his head just barely to look at you and you're looking at him all wide-eyed. He wants to tick you off a little, but can't conjure up any ideas.

"You done with those little yippin' herbivores you call friends? Can we leave now?"

You frown.

"You're in a bad mood. And don't be mean to them, they are actually my friends, you know?"

He scoffs and your frown deepens.

"Leonaaa," You drag out the syllables of his name as you stand beside him "What's wrong with you?"

He hears you pull a chair up. When he finally sits up, you're sitting directly in front of him on a chair turned backwards. There's hardly any room between you. Your face is twisted up with worry.

Leona reaches to pinch your nose. You pull away making his lips twitch upward.

"I shouldn't've came to class." He complains. You rub your nose but don't say anything back, considering him.

"I didn't think it was that bad today though. I guess it might always be for you though since you know like, everything, but I don't—"

Before you can keep going, he leans forward to press his lips to yours. It shuts you up effectively. Your lips are soft. They're sweet and a little sticky - mouth warm and welcoming.

When he pulls away, you blink at him.

"What were you sayin'." He asks.

You look a little taken aback.

"I don't know. Oh, uhm. I liked the lesson. It's fun to learn stuff about this world, I guess." You stumble over your words like you're shy. It's ironic to him, but charming all the same.

He grins.

"What? You nervous after a little kiss?" He teases.

You flush.

"You're not usually that forward, dummy. Which brings me to my question again, what's up? You're sulking."

"What the hell? I'm not sulkin'"

"Yes you are. Your doing the little nose scrunch thing too. Did something happen?"

He pushes the comment about his nose scrunch away entirely because he's sure thinking about too long is gonna get on his nerves. He glares at you for a while, debating on what he should say. Truth is, he is a little pissed. But he isn't going to tell you that your little chat with friends is making him territorial. That would be ridiculous.

There's a brief moment of silence before you pause. You tilt your head, eyes shining with curiosity.

"...Were you lonely?" You suggest.

His face drops.

"You're not the jealous type usually, but you're like a big overgrown kitty. So, you missed me right? That's why you're moping?"

The tone of your voice makes him want to pinch you again.

"Watch your mouth, herbivore." He grits, agitation rolling back into his tone like a wave. And you laugh, the nerve of you. Giggle a little as you lean in closer.

"You didn't say no."

"Shut up." He says, weakly.

"Leona," You say his name again, a little sweeter. Purposefully full of affection and he hates everything about how mushy it's making him feel. You reach your hand up to his head, petting behind his ears in the place you know he likes "I'm sorryyy,"

"Do you go 'nd tuck your tail between your legs like this for everyone? Where's your self-respect, huh?" He means to say with a lot more characteristic sarcasm.

But it all comes out gross and sweet sounding instead.

"Mm, no? It's just that my boyfriend is pretty shit at being honest about his feelings so if I don't dote on him he'll wither away like a houseplant and—"

He covers your mouth with his hand and glares at you, faux annoyed. And you're giggling against his palms, all bely laughs. It's all a little nauseating for him. He pulls away by cupping your jaw instead, squishing your face together.

"When'd you get so damn mouthy?" He grumbles.

"Since forever ago." You say through squished lips. He huffs, leaning forward to kiss you a second time. You're all soft everywhere. Squishy and mellow. Leona kisses you three times in the process, each one a little more impatient than the last before releasing you.

He doesn't let go, hand going to cup the back your neck instead. He cradles your head close, sighing against your mouth.

"Annoying," He says. You smile at him and he has to look away to deal with the intensity of it.

"You love me." You say with a smile. If only you knew the half of it.

He doesn't say that of course. Just scoffs as he stands to his feet, dragging you with him. He curls an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. The warmth of your body makes him purr.

"In your dreams. You owe me for cuttin' into my naptime."

"What can I do for you my liege?" You say sarcastically, grabbing his hand openly. He squeezes it "You wanna take a nap with me?"

"Can't promise I'll get you in my bed and not fuck you about it." He says with a lazy chuckle. You nudge his side.

"You're so crass."

"You love me," He mocks. You huff.

"Unfortunately, I do. Could use some rest though," You yawn, and blinking blearily "So nap time it is. 'kay?"

He kisses the side of your head.

"Sounds good t'me."

[electricaquarius]

Midnight fanfiction time strikes again, this is my first Gale x reader! Completely gender neutral, only thing described is that the reader is prone to migraines. Short and fluffy. (Also it seems like some of my fics are missing? I'll repost them sometime soon)

As you slowly opened your eyes you felt the morning light like two daggers directly to your skull. You rolled over and groaned, using your arm to try to block it out but it was no use, you officially had a migraine. As if the tadpole wasn't enough your head was now trying to implode on itself. The sound of Lae’zel sharpening her blade was nearly enough to make you cry. Hands over your ears you stumbled out, still dressed in night clothes, needing to explain you cannot possibly adventure out today. As the unofficial leader you felt a certain sense of guilt taking a day off but the world feels so spacey and dreamlike it's impossible to concentrate on much other than the pain. You believe Wyll had ordered you back to bed at some point but honestly it could have been any of your friends. You're just happy to be able to rest once more.

You woke up later, but you're not sure how much time had passed. Hours, certainly, since it was dark outside. Although, there was a slight tinge of weave in the air that made you question that, alongside the soft sound of waves even though you were miles from the nearest coastline. You sat up and scanned your tent to find Gale sitting in one corner, book on his lap. ‘Gale…?’ You croaked out, throat dry from sleep.

His voice was a low whisper. ‘Ah, good morning. Or evening, as it might be.’ He chuckled. ‘I thought a darkness spell might help, I understand you were quite light sensitive this morning. Please, let me know if you want me to stop.’ He reached over and poured a cup of water for you. ‘Drink. Dehydration will only make your headache worse.’

You took the cup from him gratefully and took several small sips. ‘How long was I out? Have you been concentrating for all that time?’ Added to the guilt of a wasted day, you now have the shame of taking up Gale's time when he could have been doing one of the thousand little chores you were unaware of before you started camping with your be-tadpoled friends.

‘Most of the day, I'm afraid. I do hope you're feeling better. Although you needn't worry, darkness is hardly a demanding spell even to maintain it for several hours.’ There was that pride coming through again. At times it infuriated you but right now it was quite endearing.

You sat up properly and brought your knees to your chest. ‘Still, to sit with me like this for the whole time I was asleep… you're very nice to me. I'm not quite sure why.’ You shrugged. It was true enough, you couldn't quite see Gale doing something *this* nice for your other companions. There had been something between you ever since your little magic lesson but nothing that either of you could name.

‘I could say the same about you, after having not only accepted my condition but helping to treat it. Let's say it's an equal exchange.’ He tucked away the book and brought a hand to your forehead. ‘No fever. Good. I'm afraid treating that would be a mite more complicated.’

You rolled your eyes and flopped back down onto the bedroll. ‘Must you be so mercenary? That was the perfect time to tell me how much you like me.’ You took another sip of water to avoid Gale's gaze for a moment.

‘I won't argue, considering you're still recovering, but I will say you were the first to bring it up. And I won't waste time telling you what you already know. You mean a great deal to me, and if I may be so bold, I do to you.’ He leant down and kissed your forehead before rising. ‘I'll call you when dinner is ready, you should eat.’

Stunned into silence, you can't respond until Gale is across the camp and preparing dinner. If this is how he reacted, you make a mental note to play sick more often.

[softmiso]

nestled | wolfstar

🦊 kinktober day 8: cockwarming (ft. spit as lube, bottom!remus, top!sirius, and uni au!)

🥮 other details: nsfw/18+, ~600 words (i'm sick rn so sorry if this is trash lol)

🍁 cross-posted on ao3

It was nearly midnight, and Sirius was still in the office working away at his essay, which he should have started weeks ago.

Remus squirmed in his armchair, book in hand, but attention elsewhere. Between both of them trying to finish their coursework for the semester and Remus picking up extra shifts at the café he’d been working at, the two barely had any time to themselves that week. Yes, they’d managed a quickie earlier in the night, but Remus decided that that just would not do.

He placed his bookmark in his book, putting it on the side table, and made his way into the office.

Sirius was sitting at the desk, scrolls and books strewn haphazardly across it. Remus approached him, coming to his side, a hand finding its way into his partner’s messy locks.

“Siri,” he started, “please, can you take a break?” At that, Sirius looked up, a frown crossing his lips.

“Wish I could, love,” he replied, “but I really need to finish this.” His gaze returned to the page on which he was currently scribbling away.

Remus sighed. He almost left the room in defeat, before an idea crossed his mind.

He spun Sirius around in his office chair, the other not protesting much.

“Rem, what’re you up to?” Sirius questioned, eyebrow quirking up.

“Just trust me, ‘kay?” Remus didn’t fully answer his question, but he had piqued his boyfriend’s interest.

Remus got on his knees, hands finding the other’s waist. Slowly, he removed Sirius’ pyjama bottoms and boxer shorts to find that he was already half hard.

“Guess we’re on the same page then?” Remus asked rhetorically, as he took his partner’s cock into his hand.

“Remus,” Sirius tried to speak sternly, but his voice came out more as a whine, “don’t have time for this.”

“I know,” he replied, “just give me one more minute, yeah?”

Remus continued to stroke Sirius’ cock gently, until he was fully hard under his touch. With that, he stood up and removed his own boxers. He then sat himself in his boyfriend’s lap, hand finding his cock once again as it sat at attention next to his own neglected length. After a few more strokes, Remus held out his hand.

“Spit.” He ordered.

Sirius happily complied, holding Remus’ gaze the entire time. Mischief glimmered in both of their eyes as Remus used his newly wet palm to guide Sirius’ cock to his hole. Thankfully, Remus was still stretched out from their earlier endeavours and was able to sink himself down easily.

Sirius’ hands immediately went to the other’s waist, his own hips bucking up. He was swiftly stopped, however, two hands swatting at his own.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Remus tutted, “no moving.”

“But­–”

“I said ‘no moving,’” Remus continued, “at least until you finish your work.”

So there Remus sat, filled and sated, while his partner now rushed to finish writing the clean copy of his work. Every once in a while, Remus would move slightly, under the guise of ‘getting comfy.’ Sirius grew needier and needier as time went on, cock somehow growing harder within Remus’ tight walls.

After what felt like hours, Sirius finally put down his quill, hands finding their way back to Remus’ waist.

“Done,” he sighed, “happy now?” Remus nodded as he started to move hips, now with more purpose than before.

It was his turn to be stopped this time.

“Wha–”

Before he could finish his question, Sirius removed himself from Remus, earning a whine from the latter. Quickly, Sirius manoeuvred Remus around until he was bent over the desk, slamming himself back in and leaning down so that his lips grazed Remus’ ear.

“I’m just getting started with you.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[dapper-lil-arts]

Do you have any top tier horse yuri fic recs?

Hmm, i got a couple, lemme think

This one is a very sweet slice of life EG Sunset x Scitwi one, its got a lovely interpretation of the characters; With the expected but very welcome pairing of cool punk girl and adorable nerd. and i plan on doing fanart of it! The writer knows her stuff nyeheh =v= This is the best "Rarity and Applejack get drunk together and mushy stuff happens" Fic i seen out there, a trope that is surprisingly recurring, ive seen others like this! But this one is the best, hands down. A mutual of mine wrote it and its just a wonderful time! This one is a super fun horror esque rarijack fic where rarity is haunted and applejack tries to help her. its got fantastic prose and its just damn lovely! I've done fanart of it before, its a sweet one, and its also just a really interesting direction to take Rarity's character that i'm almost sad to not see more of. Overpowered rarity whennnn Although i don't ship twilight and trixie, this fic of this pairing, that is still ongoing, is fucking hilarious. The comedy has wonderful timing, and the takes on the characters are endlessly entertaining

Stay tuned to this wonderful fic of Rarijack anthros (Inspired by the ones i designed, too!!) 'cause its gonna have a sex sequel that i've already gotten a sneak peek or two of, and i'm frotthing at the mouth about it. biting things even (i sketched the cover btw!)

This fic isn't rly horse yuri but its 1000 words of Sunset Shimmer being the utter insane badass i always wished she was; and I will continue writing her like so. I'm glad to see another writer also concidered the same

If you're like me, and think that sex is funny, this fic and it's two sequels are for you. Sunset Shimmer throws a party of deranged proportions that ends in debauchery and indulgence that nearly destroys the fabric of equestria; and it's consequences are hilarious. This is a rly cute short trans rarity fic, and it has a delightful amount of rarijack within. utterly adorbs. Almost sad to see it so short! Finaly, i'd be amiss to not recommend the fics i've written myself; Here are my two biggest and most awesomest i've done: The Return of Midnight Sparkle Is a take on MLP where there is no EG universe, and rather, Sunset Shimmer is brought to the mane 6 per twilight's request, and she absolutely does not feel like she belongs, and its a narrative about her desperate attempts of fitting in; and dealing with the fallout of her failings. I put an inordinate amount of effort on this one, even drawing covers for each chapter. I went DERRANGED with the idea of "what if sunset shimmer was on FIM and also it was gay as fuck." i basicaly wrote an entire season of the show and its finale. If you're a fan of Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle as a pairing, cannot recommend enough. Here's some of the art i made for it. Insanely sick chapter covers im super proud of The Princess and the Peasant is an all you can eat buffet for Rarijack enjoyers, I've taken the baseline of the story of "shrek 1" and i made it about Applejack and Rarity; And also expanded upon it and fixed some of the annoyances with the og story (No third act misunderstanding! On the contrary. Third act understanding. SEX.) The humble farmer Applejack has to rescue fair Princess Rarity from a dragon keep, and escort her across Equestria to ensure that her farm and family are safe. Of course, on the journey, those two grow a bit close... Too close. VEry very very veyr close. Here's a comic i've made of one of my fave scenes of it lmaooo Cannot express enough; If you're a fan of rarijack? This fic is EVERYTHING for you.

[makeste]

do you perhap have bakugou whump fic recs?

I have many such recs! not all of them are "whump" in the purest sense of the word, but they've got angst and hurt/comfort in abundance, so yeah.

I also have an older rec post from like five years ago which has quite a few Bakugou whump fics as well, so I'll link that here.

and here are like 16 new ones lol.

some quick notes:

I'm just including links and summaries here, so please make sure to check the tags for each fic if you have certain squicks or triggers you're trying to avoid!

please be aware that I am not very nitpicky about grammar and style and spelling and the like, so long as I'm feeling the characterization and general vibes. so while I can't promise that all of these fics will read like Nobel Prize-winning lit, I can say that I personally enjoyed each one enough to go back and reread more than once.

although it tends to be one of the most common tropes in Bakugou angst fics, I do not vibe with the "abusive Mitsuki" angle, so you won't find any of that in the works below. same goes for Midnight-bashing (which is also surprisingly common).

I also did not include any fics with sad endings just because I didn't feel like depressing myself today lol.

I don't think there are manga spoilers in any of these fics except one (which I noted and marked with an asterisk), but definitely check the tags just to be safe.

lastly, though I'm by no means a prude when it comes to fanfic, all of these particular fics are SFW, just FYI.

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gen Bakuwhump:

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It's Already Tomorrow on the Other Side of the World by Nicole_Silverwolf

In the absolute immediate aftermath of his rescue at Kamino, Bakugou just wants to sleep. If he sleeps then this nightmare will be over. Except he's freezing in the mid August heat. And he can't stop shaking. A glimpse of two imperfect humans trying their best told in 3.5 parts.

post-Kamino Dadzawa and Katsuki. easily one of my all-time favorite BnHA fics. it's so sad and cozy.

Coming Up for Air by achievingelysium

Katsuki has nightmares. He doesn't think he deserves the comfort, but Aizawa-sensei sits with him anyway.

more Dadzawa dealing with nighttime Kacchan angst, since that's like my #1 BnHA fic aesthetic. this is so well-written. like, there are a couple of lines in here that just... guh. just hit right to the core of me.

Bakugou's "Super Fun" Three Day Vacation by Marvelless

Bakugou and his parents arrive home after the Kamino Ward incident for some much-needed recovery time.

post-Kamino Bakufam angst. lots of paranoia and dissociation. this is one of those fics that's sort of a guilty pleasure for me, because Katsuki definitely feels a lot more... fragile?... in this than I think he would have been in canon. but he's still enough of a grump during all of his spiralling that it still feels like him. and I do love me some Bakufam wholesomeness, and this fic has got that in spades.

the art of poor judgement by emelinelou

It's a Tuesday when Bakugou admits to himself that maybe, maybe he is sorta, kinda under the weather. Things go quickly downhill from there. . Alternatively: Bakugou's too stubborn to be "sick," Midoriya and Kirishima are in over their heads, Todoroki is the Most Useful in a pinch, and Aizawa is not paid nearly enough for this.

probably my favorite sickfic. chapter two especially. Bakugou's narration in this is fucking fantastic. he's so fucking done with life. meanwhile everyone around him is freaking out, and he himself is a complete mess even though he won't acknowledge it, and it's just great. it's equal parts funny, sad, and absolutely adorable.

(incidentally, even though this fic is marked as incomplete, it really doesn't feel that way and ends at a perfectly reasonable stopping point, so don't let that put you off.)

Solar Flare by TheQueen

Three weeks after Katsuki Bakugou receives his quirk, he takes a short tumble off a bridge and watches, dumbfounded, as stupid Deku extend a hand. Don’t take it, the universe commands. Don’t tell me what to do! Katsuki snaps.

this is a really cool AU in which Baby Katsuki accidentally starts defying the universe and ignoring his predestined path, which has a profound ripple effect on his life. sort of like a time-travel fix-it, minus the time travel. also just a heads up that Bakugou is like five years old in this so I guess it's technically a kidfic. and there is plenty of angst, a little bit of whump, more Bakufam, and plenty of baby Kacchan and Deku being cute like it's their job.

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BKDK/DKBK whump:

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lose it all (with eyes wide open) by ghostwriterofthemachine

Katsuki is blinded. Izuku is muted. Both of them are kidnapped. Things get worse.

this is one of those fics that just kind of leaves you stunned at how freaking good it is. featuring: psychological mindgames, hopelessly bleak situations, and codependency so utterly raw and desperate that it broke my heart roughly 17 times.

When Ice Doesn't Float by Ma_skee

A simple rescue exercise goes south when Izuku falls through the ice and it goes from a class assinment to an actual rescue and a race against time to keep him from freezing to death.

technically this is more Dekuwhump than Kacchanwhump (though we do get a bit of the latter toward the end), but I'd argue that few things could possibly stress Katsuki out more than being in a tense survival situation in which Deku is hurt and needs help. anyway so yeah. this is classic hurt/comfort and very good.

spinning out of control by mollE

Katsuki joins the 'I've Been Mind Controlled' Club. He wishes he hadn't.

please see above re: how all Dekuwhump scenarios are secretly Kacchanwhump scenarios in disguise. anyway so basically a mind-controlled Bakugou beats the shit out of Deku while being fully aware of it the entire time, and has a complete (and understandable) emotional breakdown afterwards.

all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing by maxisnotokay

Izuku has had this thing about him that Katsuki has never been able to name, but he's been chasing it since he learned how to run. It takes a catastrophic building collapse during their third year and a severe concussion for him to realize what it is. Aizawa loses ten years off his life. When does he not.

gotta love a good building collapse fic. this one has a concussed Katsuki, a very worried Izuku, and the usual "thanks to this intimate life-or-death situation, I have belatedly realized some fundamental truths about the nature of our relationship" tropes. but it's good. a lot of really good banter and back-and-forth dialogue in this one too.

takes one to know one by Sour_Idealist

Deku has left UA. Ochako still looks for him in unguarded moments. Bakugo is, unsurprisingly, being a jerk.

some good emotional hurt/comfort post-Jakku. Ochako has a chat with Bakugou about Deku. specifically, Bakugou's feelings toward Deku. it's good shit.

*fear is the heart of love by nikkiRA

*please be advised this fic contains major manga spoilers!!

Bakugou gets hit by a quirk that amplifies his greatest fear for 24 hours.

losing Deku. the thing that scares him the most is losing Deku. this is a good fic. emotional hurt/comfort for days. though once again do keep in mind that there are a couple of major spoilers in this.

silence is what i do best by notreally

the one where both Izuku and Katsuki were hit with a truth serum sort of quirk, and things aren't going all too well.

not just a truth-telling quirk, but a truth-compulsion quirk, to the extent that (spoiler alert) the quirk causes them physical pain and distress if they don't speak the truth. which, as you can imagine, leads to all sorts of extremely vulnerable conversations and a lot of good h/c.

close by not quite by blossomshed

When Bakugou goes after a beacon during a class-wide rescue op, he doesn't expect to find Deku - or to find himself dealing with the fallout of a gift he doesn't want, and a side of himself he'd never bothered to examine. He deals with it nonetheless.

this fic is so dear to me. it's yet another "Deku transfers OFA to Bakugou fic", but it's just so fucking good. and it also features a (very much confused) ace Bakugou, which is such a rare find. there are lines from this fic which I still think about constantly. it's funny and profound and adorable and so wonderfully IC, please go read it.

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BONUS NON-ANGSTY FICS because I just felt like ending this list with some happy stories where Kacchan gets a lot of love:

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give me compliments (i said give me compliments) by wonhaebunny

“It’s just cute,” Ashido is telling them as she walks into the classroom. “Like, when you compliment someone and they get flustered so easily, don’t you think it’s endearing?” Kaminari blinks. “Like Bakugou?” he asks slowly. - 1-a realises that katsuki is really, really bad at receiving compliments. exposure therapy ensues.

he is bad at accepting compliments. this is a very, very cute fic.

The Friendship Ladder by nikkiRA

Bakugou and Kirishima tell their classmates they're dating, but everyone seems more interested in who gets to claim the newly vacated spot of Bakugou’s best friend.

as the summary implies this is technically KRBK, but the focus here is very much class 1-A as a whole. there's just something about seeing the entirety of the class squabbling over their Kacchan love that tickles me to no end. Deku is also fantastic in this lmao.

The Yoshida Trail by WinterSwallow

Mitsuki Bakugo returns with her gift to the mountain.

last but not least we have this gorgeous character study with a criminally low view count. Mitsuki climbs Mt. Fuji with an eight-year-old Katsuki in tow, as the fic explores his childhood and young adulthood through a series of vignettes. the insights in this really have no business being as profound as they are, given that they're voiced from the perspective of one of the most graceless characters in the series as she observes her equally graceless son through all the ups and downs and tumbles of his life. but somehow that just makes the whole thing even better. idk I just really love this a lot.

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anyway that's it for now. hope at least a few of these are enjoyable. thanks for the ask!

[i3utterflyeffect]

a hundred epitaphs - Fic

no i wasn't expecting to write this either. this happened at like. midnight. anyway woe, gold and victim angst be upon ye. still not confirmed canon for king merc but if you want it to be then. shrug. im not your dad [ao3 link]

"You don't have to do this, you know."

The familiar voice emitted from the screen Victim kept monitoring the empty space of the void, and they tilted their head slightly to look at it, seeing the flash of Gold on the screen.

"...I didn't ask for your opinion, you know."

"Shut up. Besides, it's a fact, not an opinion."

"Do I look like I care?"

"I don't care that you don't care."

"Somehow, you remain a headache even after I've seen color." Victim looked back to the book they were studying.

"Good. I like annoying you." Gold sat down. "You're fun to annoy."

"What do you want anyway? I know this is opened up far from where you've ended up. It took a lot of walking to get to here, I'm sure."

"Heck yeah it did, and it sucked! But I needed to talk to you! It's important."

"Fine. What is it?"

"...It's about Dad."

They paused, finally turning their attention to Gold, closing their book. "...Yes?"

"I want you to let Dad leave. And... and for you to leave Purple and their friends alone too."

"...what do you mean?"

Gold was silent for a moment, before the question processed. "...What?" They asked. "You're joking, right? You know you're bad at that."

"I'm not. I'm genuinely asking."

"I just want him to be happy... And you're not letting him. Purple deserves to be happy, too."

"What? Aren't you angry?"

"Angry?"

"They replaced us; both of them. Your father with Purple, and my creator with every creation that followed me. It's unfair. Why would you want them to be happy after they replaced--"

"How dare you say that about my dad."

"...what?"

"You said that he replaced me," Gold growled. "And you're wrong. I know he has nightmares about me every night-- I feel it. And I have nightmares about it too! You just don't get it because your creator never cared!"

"Gold--" Victim said, their voice a warning.

"Not to mention that Purple wasn't any better off than yourself! Do you really think that they don't deserve to be happy just because I was there first?! They nearly died in the same way I did! They almost were just like me! You can't seriously think that we're any different1"

"Gold."

"No, shut up! I'm sick of this! Every time I tell you what you're doing is wrong, you just shrug it off and ignore me! It's like you just want to hurt people at this point! You're just as bad as your creator!"

"SHUT UP!" Victim lashed out, slamming their fist against the screen and causing it to emit a loud crack as it shattered.

The two were silent for a moment, but even so, the air was tense. Victim was breathing hard still as they pulled their arm away from the display, which was now disrupted by spatters of disrupted pixels, colorful lines sprouting from the area where it had cracked. "Never compare me to him." They hissed, voice sharp and trembling with rage.

Even through the busted display, Gold was still visible. They had flinched back, shying away from the screen as though they were afraid that Victim would break through.

They're afraid. Good. 

"...I'm sorry," They said, voice soft and trembling. "...Please, just don't leave me alone here."

Victim only scowled in reply, before turning off the screen.

They stamped out any guilt or sadness that Gold's reply might have incited easily; they were very talented at that. It was something they were proud of.

They were right, undoubtedly. Gold would come around. They had to.

Somewhere in the void, Gold was alone again.

Somewhere in the void, Gold began to cry.