#this might become a returning tag I hope there are some more ideas but who knows

[astonmartinii]

undercover verstappen | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem verstappen!reader

get you a girlfriend who will threaten mutiny to get you a seat at a competent team

based on this request: HI BABES I HOPE YOU ARE WELL! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM! So basically I have an idea for a (possible?) Smau series, so basically it's Charles leclerc × verstappen!reader, she is a reserve driver for redbull but is also maxs race engineer (idk if you call it that? The person that talks to them that one) so she's very involved with the team and f1 in general. The public doesn't know that her and Charles are dating, and they don't even think it as Charles and max "hate" eachother (they are both doing this to protect readers and Charles relationship, they are actually besties) and basically, reader has enough if ferraris tractor, so she's like 'I will get you too redbull' and then checo retires at the end of the 2023 season, and instead of taking the job when she was offered it, she asks if Charles could have it (obviously not publicised) and Christian is like "Yes very good idea" so he asks Charles who is uncertain at first but is then OK with the idea (he is worried about becoming a second driver to max but there is lots of reassuring that he won't be nd so he accepts) and then he goes on to win 2024 wdc (and wcc but irrelevant) and he's sad that he couldn't do it with ferrari omg that's long sorry babes - @lillians-world-is-f1

MASTERLIST | TIPS | F1 SMALL BUSINESS

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen, yourusername and 1,390,887 others

tagged: schecoperez

redbullracing: checo has informed the team that he will be retiring from the sport at the end of the 2023 season. we thank checo for his service and all the good times, he will forever be a legend of this sport. VAMOS CHECO 👏

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user1: EXCUSE ME?

user2: they really thought they could drop this on a monday and we'd all be chill

maxverstappen1: i've heard tequila tastes even better when you're retired, congrats mate - we'll miss you

user3: wait does this mean it'll be double verstappen on the grid now?

user4: there's more than one of them?

user5: max's sister is the girl you'll hear on his radio and she's technically the reserve driver as well. so she might step up to the second seat now checo has retired

user6: idk about you but that spells trouble to me

yourusername: congrats checo! will miss you, carola and all the little ones x

schecoperez: you won't be able to get rid of them that easily, i'll be cashing in on some well earned babysitting hours

yourusername: can't wait !!!

user7: what i'm hearing is that there's a chance for a daniel return to red bull?

user8: double verstappen or maxiel i don't want to choose they're both my children

user9: i'm making an outside shout for a charles leclerc red bull era

user10: i am seeing the lestappen vision

user11: my personal headcanon is that both verstappens and charles are all besties and have always been besties

christianhorner: thank you for your service checo, first drink on me 👍

user12: i know christian is sweating having to make a choice between child no 2 y/n and child no 3 daniel

user13: idk i think daniel might have the edge

user14: if geri or max have anything to do with it we might have a team so dutch that the car will be orange next season

user15: christian punching the walls cause lando extended his mclaren contract literally last week 😭

EXCERPT OF RECORDING OF THE RED BULL GARAGE, ABU DHABI

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 892,309 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: verstappens take the city

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user18: i just know they are simultaneously the best people to party with but also the people you probably don’t want at a house party

yourusername: i’ll have you know i once plunged a toilet at a house party and disposed of a “sick sandwich” i am a DELIGHT

user19: and max?

yourusername: no comment

maxverstappen1: as if ! i don’t care if we’re blood im suing you for slander

yourusername: i watched you volley a vase at AD21

maxverstappen1: i paid for it !!! and you said it was a sick shot anyway FAKE

yourusername: you can say that cause personally i was not at fault of any of my actions that night x

user20: PLEASE MA'AM AT LEAST ONE SEASON OF DOUBLE TROUBLE PLEASE

user21: idk if i could deal with seeing jos verstappen every weekend tho...

user22: obsessed with how neither verstappen follow charles but here he be in her notifications again

user23: someone add it to the interaction spreadsheet i am CONVINCED it will one day lead to more

landonorris: lando norris erasure once again

user24: DID YOU WRITE THAT NOTE???

landonorris: hell no i'd rather peel my skin off than call the three raccoons disguised as a woman pretty

yourusername: good gosh we would've got the point without all of that

maxverstappen1: yeah lando only i'm allowed to call y/n the raccoons in a trench coat. know your place.

user25: so you do wanna tell us who wrote the note then?

yourusername: nope ;p

user26: only y/n and max have been spotted out so maybe it's just brotherly love

user27: LOL? MAX? BROTHERLY LOVE?

danielricciardo: invite seemed to get lost in the mail again

yourusername: either get a room or get out of my comment section

maxverstappen1: ???

user28: no maxiel red bull again. i don't think y/n's blood pressure can take it

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,544,924 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1

f1: ready to see them as teammates? charles leclerc has signed a deal with red bull to keep him at the team until 2028.

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user29: excuse me *clears throat* WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

redbullracing: welcome charles!!! no inchidents please

charles_leclerc: will we ever hear the end of that joke?

redbullracing: we know what the girlies want charles

maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while. no ice bath thirst traps here though

charles_leclerc: phew 😥

user30: this little hoe pretending he didn't love it

user31: wait ??? does this mean what i think it could mean? GIRLFRIEND?

user32: i can't take leaving ferrari and a girlfriend in one day sorry

yourusername: welcome to the team charles :)

user33: don't think we forgot about the recording babe... IS THIS WHO YOU RECOMMENED?

danielricciardo: it better not be because if you recommended your lil boyfriend over sexy ol' me i'm gonna be real mad 😭

this comment was deleted

user34: WE SAW THAT WHAT THE FUCK

maxverstappen1: daniel you are so fucking dumb

yourusername: MAX? IGNORE IT?

maxverstappen1: bro it's all over twitter you might as well take the moment to curse out daniel before christian confiscates our phones

yourusername: DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO YOU RAT BASTARD I'M GONNA RIP WHATEVER REMAINING HAIR YOU HAVE LEFT AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR SURPRISINGLY PERKY ASS. IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT YOU AND YOUR CHILD BEARING HIPS WILL NEVER GET CLOSE TO A RED BULL EVER AGAIN FOR EXPOSING A SECRET US THREE HAVE KEPT FOR SEVEN FUCKING YEARS

charles_leclerc: what she said

maxverstappen1: oop.

user35: well. can we keep going this is quite fun.

christianhorner: they're all in time out sorry

user36: okay well now that happened... when can we get "who knows me better my boyfriend or my brother" lestappen version 🤨

charles_leclerc: i would wipe the floor with him

maxverstappen1: of course you would you BIG FAT NERD

charles_leclerc: i thought christian took your phone?

maxverstappen1: as if he doesn't fall for the verstappen puppy dog eyes every time

charles_leclerc: you'll use them for me right babe, RIGHT BABE?

yourusername: idk charlie, this is family business

christianhorner: i've taken their phones again

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,304,555 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1

yourusername: my favourite men in the world doing what they do best

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user37: take me out back and shoot me already

christianhorner: interesting i don't see myself here and considering i pay your wages...

yourusername: dads go in different categories?

christianhorner: don't use my paternal instincts against me y/n

yourusername: say goodbye to your father's day card

christianhorner: NO I'M SORRY

user38: the way this proves that second red bull really was y/n's ...

user39: for real imagine loving a MAN so much you give it to HIM 🤮

user40: she also said in that recording at jos made it so bad for the two of them when they did compete that she no longer wanted to give the fans and the media the chance to do it either

charles_leclerc: oh wow that's crazy, you're my favourite woman ever

yourusername: don't be so rude to mama pascale

charles_leclerc: well other than mama obvioysly

yourusername: so i'm not your favourite, i see how it is

charles_leclerc: I AM SO CONFUSED SO I'M JUST GONNA SAY I LOVE YOU

yourusername: awww charlie i love you too

user41: okay i've known about them approximately two weeks and i love them your honour

maxverstappen1: i'm so much better than him y/n be real

yourusername: don't be such a sore loser maxy

maxverstappen1: don't get it twisted, i still won on track

charles_leclerc: not for long

yourusername: okay girlies leave the trash talk for the weekends this is being normal for the sake of y/n's mental health time

user42: good lord this trio is so dear to me

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,043,788 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

maxverstappen1: best thing about winning is choosing the restaurant after - closely followed about the worst thing: third wheeling them.

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user43: max coming through with the y/n and charles content as he should

user44: i need him to open the vault cause i have not forgotten that y/n said this relationship is seven years old

yourusername: i think i had a wet dream about this sushi spread last night

maxverstappen1: as long as that's it, good.

yourusername: i don't need to have wet dreams anymore, the real thing is so much better

maxverstappen1: BLOCKED.

user45: i know y/n is elated to be able to publicly terrorise max with her relationship

user46: so does this mean that this is a system they've had for a while?

yourusername: room service is our middle names

charles_leclerc: maximilian can you please send the last pic to the shared album

maxverstappen1: on it 🫡

user47: SHARED ALBUM? I MIGHT DIE

yourusername: you two are such cutie patooties

maxverstappen1: but for real no being so cute on my jet again or just wait for me to go for my nap

charles_leclerc: heard and understood

yourusername: or maybe just get a life and stop being so lonely

danielricciardo: can i join for sushi or am i still banned?

maxverstappen1: eh, you could take y/n in a scrap

danielricciardo: she read my ass for filth on main i'm scared of her

charles_leclerc: she had you gagged

danielricciardo: and this litlle guard puppy agrees with whatever she says :(

yourusername: as he should !

maxverstappen1: don't try and fight it daniel, i've been in this losing battle for seven years

charles_leclerc

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,834,903 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: life in blue could never be blue with you. i love you baby, thank you for giving me this opportunity, every trophy is for you x

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user48: GOD PLEASE SAVE ME PLEASE GOD SAVE ME FROM THIS SINGLE LIFE.

yourusername: i love you too charlie, i'd do everything and more for you. i'm happy you're happy x

charles_leclerc: you can't get rid of me at this point

yourusername: seven years strong, i'm stuck to you like glue

charles_leclerc: you'll have my last name (or i can take yours) next

maxverstappen1: you can give her a ring but you'll NEVER TAKE THE VERSTAPPEN NAME AWAY

yourusername: you good?

maxverstappen1: yeah but we must always be double trouble. not even THAT man will come between that

user49: this is the trio of my dreams i need a whole drive to survive ep or even spin off just following these losers around

danielricciardo: see how could you be angry that i would want to talk about all this cuteness ?

yourusername: we are cute, correct.

charles_leclerc: i'd use the words incredibly sexy but okay

danielricciardo: are you guys still angry? I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOU

yourusername: we forgive you daniel.

charles_leclerc: i was also kissing her on my first podium REGARDLESS

yourusername: you're so romantic 🥰

maxverstappen1: GAG.

user50: convinced that max will still be the biggest big brother asshole until he is in the retirement home

alexalbon: flexing the alex albon and lily mun he photography i see

yourusername: thank you for your service

lilymunhe: we can also keep a secret 🤫

danielricciardo: I SAID I WAS SORRY

charles_leclerc: we're gonna hold it over you forever buddy

danielricciardo: was taking the red bull seat not enough?

charles_leclerc: until i win a championship? yes.

fin.

note: I'M BACK!! hope this was what you were looking for xx also, if you guys ever want to support me in any way i have a tip jar on kofi and also my small business @badlydrawnf1cats that has a sticker sheet available right now - love you all xx

[marigoldenblooms]

An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

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

“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

[vettelsvee]

HOLD ON TO HOPE SERIES | Sebastian Vettel (Spider-Man AU)

f1 masterlist | ask me anything or let's talk! great power, great responsibility (1k special)

spidey!sebastian vettel x female bff!reader | based on 2010

for more information to the reader: ❥ this series is an au (alternative universe) and it is based on the amazing spider-man movies. seb is considered peter parker and spider-man, while nico rosberg would be harry osborn (and you know who) and, y/n, gwen stacy. ❥ it contains friends to lovers trope. ❥ seb, y/n and nico are last year students of their respective degrees (seb estudies biomedical engineering, y/n studies biomedical engineering as well, and nico studies aerospacial engineering). ❥ some parts might include sensitive content. pay attention to trigger warnings at the beginning of each part.

started: AUGUST 06TH 2024 currently status: on going | last updated: august 6th masterlist under the cut !

taglist: [feel free to tell me so i can tag you and you don't miss anything!]

a/n: i'm so excited, so happy and this just came out of my head and had to post this. oh. my. god. i hope you love this short series as much as i do (it will have a second part series with retired!seb x ?!reader, any guesses?) pls tell me your thoughts, comments and fangirl as much as i do because i'm absolutely in love with spidey!seb and i fangirl about him on twitter 24/7

SEBASTIAN VETTEL KNEW THAT HAVING A DOUBLE LIFE WAS DIFFICULT, BUT HE DIDN'T KNOW IT WOULD BE THAT HARD. Since he was bitten by a radioactive spider during a school trip, his life changed completely. At first, balancing the last few months of senior year with the task of being a local hero in Heppenheim was quite difficult. However, the real problem began when he moved to Berlin to study Biomedical Engineering with his two best friends, Nico Rosberg and Y/N Y/L/N.

At first, everything was great: Seb went to his classes and, in the evenings, patrolled the city looking for loose criminals and elderly ladies in distress who had lost their kittens. The problem, much to his regret, began two months after his arrival to the German capital when what initially were minor issues of little importance turned into life-and-death situations, where the boy had to stay out on the streets until the early hours of the morning, using Hanna, a student he had met in one of his classes, and the desire of wanting to date with her, as an excuse. Except he really wanted to date Hanna.

Nico was completely fine with the idea of Sebastian living his life and even insisted that he should try something with that blonde girl who seemed to catch his attention, encouraging him to ask her out and become the most envied couple on campus. Y/N, on the other hand, was constantly worried about Seb, staying awake every night until he returned home and even trying to follow him on more than one occasion to see if her best friend was telling the truth or if he was just getting into trouble and she knew nothing about.

Knowing that all Sebastian Vettel did was lie, and seeing that those same lies were accompanied by academic results that were plummeting alongside with his increasing desperation, Y/N offered Seb help to pass his retake exams after Christmas in exchange of just one thing: whatever was going on in his life, he would tell her before he took his last exam.

With a knot in his throat, Sebastian promised her so even knowing that no one, and especially not her, could know that he was Spider-Man... at least not until Y/N started getting to know the superhero when her friend stood her up for the second time and realized that, perhaps, Spidey and Seb had more in common than they should.

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

HOLD ON TO HOPE MASTERLIST

part 1: y/n decides that she's had enough of seb being an idiot, and tries her best to help him (coming soon!)

[itsphoenix0724]

Hold Me Gently (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel knew exactly what he signed up for when he became the court's spymaster, but sometimes everything gets too much for him to handle.

Warnings: Smut, angsty, negative thoughts about oneself, some dark stuff mentally

Word count: 1.6k

Bonus Chapter!

A/N: Hi loves! I'm excited to put this out for you guys I've been working on it for kind of a hot minute. Please read the tags carefully. I hope you all enjoy it, and as always constructive criticism is welcome. Plus I've got a special surprise coming in December that I may announce later this week so keep a look out. <3

Azriel swore sometimes he could still hear the screams that echoed off the stone walls of the Hewn City rattle around in his brain for days. Rhys had been clear this time. 

Get the information through whatever means necessary, no matter what. 

So that’s exactly what he had done, and it had taken hours. He sent Rhys a message with the information and winnowed directly into your bedroom. He knew you were downstairs in the kitchen because he had sent his shadows earlier to watch you, but he couldn’t bear to have you look at him right now. To have you look at him like he was the most amazing thing in the universe when you had no idea what horrors he committed just an hour earlier. Azriel hides his shame from the portrait of his mating ceremony, turning away from even your painted adoration. He is not the smiling male in that picture. He is not the male who deserves to put his blood-stained hands around your waist. He doesn’t deserve any of it. Not your kindness, not your comfort, not your kiss, or your smile. Not when he spent half the day ripping a man apart. 

Maybe that male had a mate waiting at home too. 

He sneaks carefully into the bathroom, turning the bathtub's faucet to boiling and letting the tub fill. Az peels off his leathers layer by layer, and they hit the clean white tile with a sickeningly wet sound, none of the blood is his. As he watches the red slowly seep onto the floor he knows that the tile’s just another thing he’s ruined. 

He wishes he could peel his skin off as well. 

Azriel sinks slowly into the tub, letting the sting of the hot water work every muscle. He wanted to erase everything, to let the water cleanse away his disgusting actions. His shadows send a whisper of you humming quietly from the kitchen and he almost bursts into tears. How had the cauldron given him someone someone so gentle? How did you wake up in their bed every day and not know you slept next to a monster? Az sinks under the surface, unable to bear the rushing in his head, and doesn’t come back up until his lungs are screaming for air. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew something was wrong when your mate didn’t immediately come to see you after returning from his mission. You had heard the faucet start to run while chopping vegetables for dinner, and you assumed Az was quickly rinsing off before he joined you. After half an hour had passed you started to become concerned. You knew your mate, and even though he never told you specifics, he sometimes needed time after his return from the Hewn City. You silently creep up the stairs of your home, avoiding all the creaking floorboards that might tip Azriel off. You swing open the bedroom door, but he is nowhere to be found the only evidence of him is a trail of blood that sends your heart into overdrive. You follow it to your bathroom door, now more worried about his safety than anything. The bond beating in your chest is dark, and it has been since Az left your bed this morning. Throwing open the door you’re met with a wall of crushing darkness. You fight through the swirling blackness, trying to call Azriel’s name, but you can’t see two feet in front of you. A rouge shadow comes to circle your wrist dragging you to your mate’s hunched form in the bathtub, base instinct takes over as you climb into the water hissing as the burning water scalds your thighs. “Azriel,” You call his name, taking his head in your hands. His hazel eyes seem unfocused like he’s looking through you than at you. “Az,”  you rush out again. “Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?” You tilt his head this way and that way before scanning the rest of his body. You shake him at the shoulders trying to get him to see you. Finally, as if Az just realized you were there, he looks at you. 

“The blood isn’t mine.” is all he says before his head thumps back against the porcelain as if it’s too heavy to hold on his own. Your shoulders sag in relief. “You shouldn’t be in here. Go back downstairs I’ll be there in a minute.” He runs the wet silk of your nightgown in between his fingers. You have no intention of leaving this bathtub until you figure out what's wrong with your mate.

“What’s happened?” You push running your fingers through the threads of his inky black hair. “Did the mission not go well?” Azriel scoffs, looking unbothered, but you can see the muscles in his throat tightening with effort to keep something hidden. You try to pull at the bond again, begging him to lower the obsidian shields he builds around himself, his hands shake with the effort of keeping them impenetrable. He still avoids your eyes, yet you try again refusing to yield. “Sweetheart…” you whisper softly and the Shadowsinger cracks before you. His walls rush down and crash against you like a tsunami, the wave of self-hatred that he had been holding in barrels against you with enough force to bring down the mountains. Silver lines his hazel eyes and your heart almost cracks in two. Wrapping your arms around Azriel you cradle him to your body, his hands tighten around your waist seeming torn between pulling you closer and pushing you away. His shoulders shake with the force of his sobs and all you can do is keep stroking his hair and make soothing sounds, trying to calm him down enough to speak. Az takes a shuddering breath, but the tears still stream down his face. You chase them away with the pads of your fingers. 

 “I do not deserve you,” he grinds out, voice rusty from the tears. You rub soothing circles into the joints of his shoulders and it makes Azriel want to throw up. “I am the monster mothers warn their children about at night. I’ve committed horrors that should make you run away in terror” You shake your head with feverance. 

“I would never run from you Azriel. There is nothing too dark or too ugly that would make me love you any less. I promise you I can handle it.” Azriel does nothing but collapse back against you shaking his head back and forth. “Just talk to me please.” He takes a deep inhale, trying to calm his racing heart. 

“I bled a male dry today. Rhys needed information, and he was harder to break than anticipated.” It’s all the information Az is willing to give. You have to stamp down the fury rising in your own chest. Both at Rhysand for putting your mate through this and at the Hewn City itself. 

You’d tear this court apart brick by brick for making Azriel feel like he’s less than deserving of his life. 

You’ll have to talk with Rhys later because for now, your focus is Az and Az alone. You refuse to allow him to continue to carry on like this, cursing yourself for not realizing the effects of this position wearing on him sooner. 

“Look at me.” You pull his jaw towards you, forcing him to meet your eyes “There is no universe where you are not deserving of happiness. You have a job to do, and I understood that when I accepted this bond. I do not fear you, I do not balk from you, and I do not love you any less because of that.” The bond sings with light as the weight finally starts to leave your mate's shoulders. Golden eyes study you intensely before he hauls you against him in one fluid motion and crashes his lips to yours. He tastes like burning whiskey, and kisses you so fiercely you’re afraid your lips might bruise. You hold him together the best you can, afraid that if you let him go he will shatter into pieces before you. “Are you sure you want this right now?” You ask, you’ll give Az whatever he needs, and if he needs a distraction from his head then you’re happy to provide it to him. He nods, leaning down to press his lips to your collarbone. You run your hands along his back grinding yourself into him, and pour love and devotion down your side of the bond to him. His hardness presses against you as he nudges aside the scraps of lace before sheathing himself into the hilt. You let Azriel take what he needs, fucking you on his length, rocking you back and forth. He’s hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars with such force water sloshes over the edge of the tub, washing away the blood from Azriel’s leathers. You run your hands along the edge of his wing and he roars, one hand almost cracking the porcelain of the bathtub. He changes his pace to pure brutality, using you like no more than a toy. Your thighs shake with the effort to keep yourself upright. He’s ruthless in the way he moves like a hungry predator finally tearing into its kill. Your orgasm tears through you with blinding energy, and you unravel faster than you’d like to admit, but Az always manages to have that effect on you. He loses himself soon after you, tumbling over the edge with so much force he rips the bottom of your nightgown into ribbons. You stare at each other for a long moment, relishing in the afterglow and grateful for the hot water in the tub. 

“I’m sorry for ripping your nightgown,” Azriel rumbles and you laugh a beautiful golden sound. 

“You can buy me a new one later,” you promise, “but for now let me wash your hair.” 

[metal-mouse]

Don't Ever Leave

pairing: Garreth Weasley x f!MC (M/F pairing)

themes: 18+ minors DNI. smut. fluff. so, so many tropes. pourn with plot. confessing feelings. idiots in love.

warnings: smut. p in v. unprotected sex. a hint of body worshipping. f receiving oral. not even an attempt to pull out.

summary: 7.1k words of whatever this is. It has been one year since you have graduated from Hogwarts. You've returned to Hogsmeade for some shopping, and you run into a familiar face. You spend the afternoon catching up with Garreth Weasley, when a rain storm rolls in preventing you from returning home.

note: I'm thirsty for Garreth Weasley and I'm a filthy slut for tropes. This got way longer than I expected it to. Editing? Never heard of her. Unicorns shed their horns like moose because I said so. I'll make a Garreth stan out of you if it's the last thing I do 😤

tagging @the-ominis-gaunt and @cuffmeinblack bc the red haired boi.

s/o to @anto-pops for letting me yell in the dms and also being an enabler and a pot-stirrer. luv u.

You called one last good-bye to Albie Weekes as you left his shop stepping into the cool November air. It had been well over a year since you’d last stepped foot in Hogsmeade, and it was nice to catch up with some old friends. Your next step would be visiting Parry Pippin, who had been most fond of you while you were in school. You’d always helped him make deliveries to Fatimah Lewang, which had gotten you a decent amount of pocket money. He had always paid you handsomely for having to deal with that unpleasant woman. You made your way up the street towards the potions shop, savoring the sights and sounds of the bustling village. Seeing students wander the streets talking and laughing filled you with so many fond memories. You could almost see yourself with Sebastian and Ominis, or perhaps Garreth Weasley, walking through the village and stopping in at the shops. 

Your mind lingered on the idea of walking through Hogsmeade with Garreth. The two of you had formed a very close friendship in your sixth year. You had been immensely fond of him, and something deep down inside of you had always hoped the two of you might become more than just friends. Besides Sebastian and Ominis, he was the one you spent the most time with. The amount of time the two of you had spent flirting was obscene, with delicate touches and priceless banter. Garreth had been quick to blush, and how you loved to make him blush. 

You got to the entrance of J. Pippin’s, and were jolted by the door opening suddenly. A man with a friendly face and a messy head of red hair bumped into you. 

“Garreth?” You said, momentarily wondering if you’d accidentally summoned him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, and then frowned at his choice of words, “er… I mean It’s lovely to see you!” He added quickly. You couldn’t help but smile at the blush that bloomed across his cheeks. 

“I needed to buy a new broom, I figured I’d come and visit some of the other shopkeepers while I’m here.” You said. 

“Still up to trouble, I gather?” He asked. 

“Naturally.” You gave him a wink. He laughed, and opened his arms for a hug. You embraced him briefly before stepping back and inspecting him. In the year since you’d seen him last he’d grown out of being the boy you knew. He was taller, his shoulders broader and he looked obviously strong under his clothes - which you noticed were very well tailored. The boyishness of his round cheeks had lessened, his cheekbones and jawline more defined now. You’d thought him handsome while in school, but now… he was breathtaking. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” Garreth said, his eyes searching your face. 

“I only live over in Feldcroft. It’s not that far a journey. I’m more surprised to see you here.” You said. A sullen look flashed across his face so fast you almost thought you’d imagined it. 

“Feldcroft? Are you living with Sallow?” He asked, an unexpected bite to his voice. 

“Anne Sallow, yes. Sebastian and Ominis moved to London to be closer to work. What have you been up to?” 

“Oh… right! I… well… it’s a little embarrassing.” His hand reached up to push his hair back. 

“What, are you shoveling dragon dung for a living?” You asked. He shot you a scandalized look.

“No, I’m Parry Pippin’s assistant.” You arched a brow at his response. That seemed like a respectable job to you. 

“Why would that be embarrassing? Mr. Pippin is an excellent potioneer.” 

“Speaking of Mr. Pippin, he is patiently waiting for one Mr. Weasley to go gather his ingredients.” Parry Pippin’s voice made you nearly jump out of your skin. You looked over to the shopkeeper, who had his hands on his hips and a little frown on his face. Garreth’s face flushed again. 

“Hello, Mr. Pippin!” You reached out and shook his hand. 

“It’s lovely to see you dear, now, if you’re insistent on distracting my assistant, why don’t you make yourself useful and help him collect the ingredients I need? He could use someone to watch his back.” Mr. Pippin said sternly. It was your turn to blush. You looked over to Garreth who had a hopeful look on his face. You nodded, it wasn’t like you were expected anywhere else - not with Anne visiting Ominis and Sebastian - and there was no way you could say no to that face. You would certainly rather be with him than be in the frigid sky on your way to an empty house. After a final sharp word from Mr. Pippin, Garreth started on the road that would take you towards the Forbidden Forest. 

It felt a little surreal, to be walking down that familiar path with Garreth Weasley. Truth be told, you hadn’t anticipated running into any of your school friends. You hadn’t really been close with many students under your year, and most of your friends were busy with their new jobs. Natty was back in Uganda, Poppy was running around the wilderness looking for beasts, Ominis was apprenticing in Diagon Alley, Sebastian was working in the Auror’s office… Even Anne seemed to be spending more and more time in London. 

You did think it a little amusing that you found yourself yet again protecting someone while they entered a dangerous location. It had become a habit during your school years, and it seemed to be carrying into your graduate life. The villagers in Feldcroft often asked for your help when it came to potentially dangerous situations. 

“I needed a job so I could save up and open up my own shop - Mr. Pippin was looking for someone to help out around his shop, it just seemed right.” Garreth said, jolting you from your thoughts. His tone was a little dejected, as though it was a disappointment for him to not own his own shop. 

“It certainly gives you good access to ingredients for your experiments. You’ve only just left school, you have loads of time Gar. You’re brilliant, I know you’ll have your own shop in no time.” You said encouragingly. He really was brilliant at potion-making, despite his unfortunate mishaps with his personal experiments. 

“You think so?” He asked, a little smile on his face. You nodded in response, returning his smile. His green eyes seemed to sparkle as he held your gaze for a moment - before promptly tripping over his own feet and stumbling. You moved on reflex, your arms wrapping around his, and hauling him upwards so he didn’t fall down. 

“Even if you can’t walk in a straight line to save your life, yes I do think so.” You said, laughing at him. His face was red as he joined in your laughter.

“I can walk perfectly straight, thank you very much.” 

“Hurt your pride, did I?” 

“At least I can reach the top shelf.” 

“That’s a low blow, Weasley.” 

“Yes, because you’re so close to the ground.” 

You and Garreth bickered back and forth as you walked along, without realizing you were still holding onto his arm. You loved spending time with Anne, and you did appreciate your neighbours in the village, but this was wonderful. It had been a long time since you’d laughed like this. Before you knew it, you stood at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest. You dropped his arm, pulling your wand out of the hidden pocket inside your coat. 

“Alright, I’ve got to find unicorn hair and hopefully some unicorn horns. They’re shedding this time of year.” Garreth said. 

“Really? That’s not going to be easy. I know where some unicorns stay, but it’s very deep in the forest.” You said, frowning a little. You’d gone to see the unicorns several times during your time at school, especially after you’d chased all the poachers out of the woods. You wondered if they would remember you - and if they would just run from Garreth. 

“You know where their den is?” He looked at you with an amazed expression. 

“Well, Poppy Sweeting wasn’t the only one who was fond of magical beasts.” You said, stepping through the gate towards the forest. You’d never shown anyone the Room of Requirement, preferring to keep it your own little sanctuary. There was no way Garreth would have known about your beast rescuing services. He merely tilted his head in agreement and followed you through the gate. 

It had been a long time since you’d set foot in the ancient feeling forest, and it was just as unnerving. Despite going into the forest countless times, the feeling of it was something you’d never gotten used to. It was always so unnaturally quiet, despite the abundance of life you knew dwelled under the dark canopy of trees. Garreth’s hand quietly found yours, and you didn’t have it in you to tease him about it. The forest could really be scary. You didn’t speak as you guided him down the path, trying to remember the way to the unicorns all while listening carefully for the tell-tale signs of trouble. You navigated the twisting paths, taking the route which you recalled to have the least amount of spiders. 

You both froze when a spine-chilling howl echoed in the distance. Garreth’s hand tightened over yours. You had no idea what sort of beast had made that horrible noise, and you weren’t in a rush to find out. Dark mongrels you could handle. Werewolves, you weren’t all that eager to try and fight. Anything else… Unless it was small and easily defeatable, you truly weren’t interested today.

“Please tell me we’re not going towards that.” He whispered to you. You shook your head, looking towards the direction of the noise. It was, thankfully, in the wrong direction. 

“I can’t believe he wanted you to come here alone.” You whispered, unwilling to speak any louder. You wondered in part if that was because of Parry Pippin’s cowardice. The man wasn’t exactly known for his bravery, which was showcased so brilliantly in the delivery job he’d given you. If he wasn’t able to face Madam Lewang, how in the world would he have faced the forest and its denizens? Perhaps you’d have to have a talk with the master potioneer upon your return. You gently tugged on Garreth’s hand and started walking again - increasing your pace when another howl echoed. 

“You never said what you’re doing now that school’s done.” He said quietly, clearly desperate to break up at least some of the tense silence. 

“I’m not really doing much these days, I mostly help around Feldcroft and take care of Anne. St. Mungos reckons they’ve nearly got a cure.” You said, stepping over a large root and turning slightly to make sure Garreth didn’t trip over it. After everything you’d done, from stopping the Goblin rebellion to destroying the poacher trade in the Scottish Highlands, you figured you were owed a well deserved break - not that you were doing much relaxing. 

“That’s wonderful to hear, I always did like Anne…” He trailed off, as though there was something more he wanted to say. Heavy footsteps made the ground tremble slightly, and you shoved Garreth into the shadows against a tree before pressing against him trying to make the pair of you as inconspicuous as possible. He made no noise as a troll thumped across the path. You were steadily growing more annoyed with Mr. Pippin by the minute. What if he had been alone? It was inexcusable! You at least knew you could take on a fully grown troll. He may have been decent at defense against the dark arts, but Garreth had never fought a troll on his own. Hell, even Sebastian struggled and that was with your help. It was a tense few moments before the troll moved deeper into the forest.

“Come on. He didn’t see us.” You kept the steady pace up. 

“This is awful. How in the world are you still alive? I am so sorry for asking you to collect ingredients for me all the time.” Garreth hissed as he followed you. You snorted, his requests for you to go into the forest were often the least dangerous adventures you went on. The forest got darker as you ventured deeper, and now you really had to be on your guard. You jumped when something wet and cold dripped onto your face, and looked up with your wand out. You sighed when you felt more drops and realized it was just raining. You wondered if you’d lost your nerve, which was not helped when Garreth huffed a laugh at your reaction. 

“Not a word out of you, Weasley.” You shot a glare over your shoulder. 

“Are you frightened of the rain? Do you need me to protect you?” He teased. A stick cracked nearby, and with a nervous gasp he moved closer to you. You smirked a little, not even needing to tease him for his face to go red. You fell into silence once more, hoping the rain would stay light. If it was storming by the time you were due home, you weren’t going to be happy about it. Hand in hand and wands at the ready, you and Garreth pushed on into the darkness. 

You smiled when you heard the soft nickering of horses. You pulled Garreth to the side behind some bushes, quietly casting the disillusionment charm on yourself. He did the same, and you guided him forwards a little. You let go of his hand, beaming at the sight of the unicorns in front of you. You could feel him looming over your shoulder, his fingers gently pressing against the small of your back. It was a stunning sight, to have so many of these rare beasts all in one spot. 

“They’re beautiful.” He bent to whisper in your ear. You nodded despite the fact he couldn’t really see you. 

“Stay here. I want to see if they’ll let me approach them.” You whispered back, stepping away from him and removing the charm. You stepped forward slowly, letting yourself be seen by the unicorns. A massive white stallion moved forwards, staring you down with deep-set eyes. His coat was majestic, it almost seemed to glow despite no light hitting it. You stopped, and lifted your hands carefully. A loud whinny made you look to your left, and you gasped when Hazel the unicorn trotted happily towards you.

“Hazel! You look wonderful, my friend.” You said, smiling at her as she stopped before you. You lifted your hand and gently stroked her forehead. She truly did, her coat was shining bright as ever and she was plump from eating well. You flicked your wand, summoning a horse brush to give her a nice brush down. You momentarily forgot about Garreth as a few other unicorns you recognized moved in closer - including Hazel’s mate who you had named Ares, and the now-grown foal they’d had just over two years ago that you called Honey. You were laughing now, greeting each of them and letting them all take their turns with your brush and summoning little treats for each of them. 

You took a moment to glance around the clearing that they lived in, and indeed there were a few horns littered around the ground. You looked over your shoulder to where Garreth was hidden behind the bush, and carefully beckoned to him. The unicorns froze, going on high alert as he took a careful step into the clearing. 

“This is Garreth, he’s my friend.” You said, the word friend leaving a slightly bitter taste in your mouth. He came to stand beside you, careful not to move too quickly. He didn’t want to frighten them. Hazel moved a little closer to you, assessing him carefully. You swore that she understood everything you ever told her, and when she turned her head towards you and then back to him you felt that she knew just who he was. You held your hand out for Garreth’s, and he placed his hand in yours without hesitation. You lifted his hand, gently pressing it to Hazel’s forehead and stroking it downwards in the way she liked to be pet above her nose. You watched him while he repeated the motions you showed him, reveling in the awed look on his face. His green eyes were wide, and almost sparkling. A smile slowly spread as his nerves faded, and he met your gaze. He was so handsome it almost hurt. To see him so happy to be doing something that you loved… you hadn’t expected it to make your heart pound like this. 

“Hello! It’s lovely to meet you.” Garreth addressed Hazel, and you thought you were going to drop dead at the way that made you feel. You thought about how so many witches and wizards completely disregarded beasts and their intelligence, and to see someone so important to you regard beasts with respect… you were getting flustered with the overwhelming urge to kiss him. 

The rain really started to pick up now, and you were reminded that you stood in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, probably surrounded by dangerous creatures. You and Garreth got to work, he searched for fallen horns while you brushed unicorn tail hairs out carefully. 

“You know, this has turned out to be a very pleasant adventure.” Garreth said conversationally, coming closer to you to help with harvesting some tail hairs.

“Are you only saying that because Pippin won’t be complaining about his unicorn ingredients now?” You asked with a grin. 

“Not at all! It’s nice to see you again. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure I would. I’d assumed you would disappear wherever Sallow went.” He said, giving you a nervous glance. Your brows furrowed as you thought about what he’d just said. Why in the world would he assume that? 

“With Sebastian? What do you mean?” You asked. 

“Well… It wasn’t just me who thought this, of course, but I thought you would end up marrying him. You two were always so close.” He said awkwardly. You were close with Sebastian, and you had been through a lot with him, but not once did you see him as a romantic partner. You could understand why others may have thought that; the man was an unbearable flirt after all, but he’d never sought you romantically either. In fact, you’d played wing-man for him far too many times to count. 

You shook your head, “Sebastian and I were never romantically involved, nor will we ever be. That would be like kissing my brother.” You cringed at the thought of kissing Sebastian. Garreth was quiet for a long time. You looked over at him and saw him deep in thought as he gently brushed Honey’s tail. 

“Oh… so, you’re not… involved with anyone?” He asked, tilting his head cautiously. 

“No, Garreth, I am not.” You said. Your love life was indeed woefully empty. Some part of you still clung to the idea of somehow being with him. Why would he even be bringing this up? Did he truly care about your love life, or was he being polite?

The rain was lashing down now, leaving you both absolutely drenched while you worked. The unicorns began to retreat deeper into the woods now, looking to find some sort of shelter from the rain. You had started to shiver from the cold rain, chilling you down to the bone. Hazel was the last to leave, leaning against the palm of your hand one last time before turning and walking through the trees into the darkness. It was bittersweet, seeing the unicorn go. You resolved to come back and visit more often - you’d handled the forest as an inexperienced witch, you had so much more skill and experience now to navigate the twisting paths. You looked around, wrapping your arms around yourself to try and gain some sort of warmth. The thick clouds in the sky and the rapidly setting sun bathed the surrounding forest in an impossibly dark shade of black. 

When the clearing was suddenly bathed in light, you turned to see Garreth holding his wand with its tip shining brightly between his teeth as he finished stuffing unicorn hairs and horns into the satchel he’d brought with him. He looked at you, and you squinted as the light hit your eyes. 

“You’re blue! Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm and dry.” He said, taking his wand out of his mouth. You frowned, not happy that your little adventure was coming to an end. Garreth was right, you were freezing. Your hands had gone numb, and you could feel your teeth starting to chatter a little. It was going to be a long trip back to Feldcroft. You lamented your loss of the Hogwarts floo system, an annoying decision Phineas Nigellus Black had made upon your graduation. 

“I’ve g-got to p-pick up my br-broom from Alb-bie. Got t’ f-fly home.” You stammered out, the cold effectively locking your jaw. A powerful gust of wind made the trees swish and made you even colder. 

“Don’t be stupid. You’re going to fly home in this? You’ll catch your death.” Garreth shook his head, holding his hand out. You took it, and he apparated before you could even put another word in. 

You looked up at the little cottage you stood in front of, blinking in surprise. You supposed Garreth did have a point - the wind had picked up far too much now, flying would be dangerous. You’d go see Sirona again and see if she had any rooms available. Garreth unlocked the door to the cottage and practically dragged you inside. The door closed behind you, and the lamps flickered to life lighting up a cozy little living area. Garreth wordlessly waved his wand towards the fireplace on the wall adjacent to the door and it roared to life almost instantly flooding the room with delicious warmth. 

You moved closer to the fire, looking around the room as you did. There were two narrow bookcases crammed full on either side of the fireplace, and a squashy green armchair and matching loveseat with a small wooden table in front of the fire. On the next wall was a potions station complete with an extensive storage system. On the other side of the room was a small kitchen with a little dining table that had only two chairs. A door on the very back wall led to what you assumed was the bathroom. It was a charming little house, somehow very maximalist despite not having much for decor - how typical of him. Leander Prewett had once described their dormitory to you, and he apparently hadn’t changed much in terms of taste. 

“Are you listening?” Garreth’s voice jolted you out of your snooping. You looked at him, shaking your head. 

“I wasn’t, I’m sorry.” You said, your jaw still tight. Your wet clothes were extremely uncomfortable. 

“I was saying that I’ll find you something dry to wear, just follow me.” He sounded equal parts amused and concerned. You nodded, and followed him up the narrow flight of stairs that led up to a loft. A four poster bed lay under the window, with a desk on one of the other walls and a large armoire across the room from the bed. The walls up here were much less bare, with the Gryffindor coat of arms hanging above the desk, and banners from different Quidditch clubs decorating the walls. He also had some artwork on the walls, including photos from school. You turned, and watched him open the doors to his armoire and dig through it looking for some dry clothing. He tossed a soft looking green jumper onto the bed, and dug around a little more before pulling out a pair of pyjama pants. 

“Thank you.” You said, taking the pants out of his hand as he walked towards you. You set the pants on the bed next to the jumper. You were too cold and too uncomfortable to care that he was still in the room as you began to fumble to take off your soaked clothing. Garreth made a startled noise, whirling around and looking away from you. 

“Do you want me to go?” He asked in a panicked tone. 

“Don’t care. Too cold.” You mumbled, shedding your wet clothes onto the floor and pulling the jumper over your head. It was an immediate relief. It was massive, hanging almost to your knees, and so warm already. You pulled on the pyjama pants which were far too big for you. You took a step forward to pick up your wet belongings, and the pants promptly dropped right to your ankles making you giggle. Garreth turned around at the sound of your laugh, and saw the pyjama pants pooled at your feet. 

“A little big, I suppose.” He said sheepishly. You waved him off, picking up the pants and putting them back onto the bed. You’d just go without, you were fully covered - what difference would it really make? 

You took your wet clothes downstairs so he could get changed in peace. You pushed open the door to what you thought was the bathroom and were pleased to see you were right. Along one wall was a rope with some clothes already hanging to dry, you just added yours to the mix. You took a moment to towel dry your hair, before standing directly in front of the fire to capitalize on the pleasant heat with your eyes closed and hands outstretched.

“Enjoying yourself?” Garreth asked, and you nodded without opening your eyes. He chuckled and nudged you to the side so he could also capture some of the warmth of the fire. You blinked your eyes open, looking up at him. His hair hung in his eyes, messier than usual thanks to the rain. It was strangely intimate, seeing him in a comfy jumper and pyjama pants with wet hair. It was something so mundane, but it felt… personal. You forced your eyes back to the fire with a newfound determination to just never look at him ever again. Your eyes slowly closed again, this time from the day’s journey catching up with you. Garreth huffed another laugh, and hooked an arm around you to help you back up the stairs to his bedroom. 

“You’re asleep on your feet, you can just sleep here.” He said, helping you sit down on his bed. You didn’t protest, allowing him to pull back the thick quilt while you made yourself comfortable. Garreth mumbled something about delivering the ingredients to Mr. Pippin, and he disappeared. In his absence, you couldn’t fight the sleep. You were so warm in his soft bed surrounded by the smell of him, and you drifted off to sleep. 

There was no way to tell what time it was when you were startled awake by a loud clap of thunder. 

“It’s only a storm.” Garreth’s voice came from the floor. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and blinking. The room wasn’t completely dark, the light from the fire downstairs gave the loft a dim light. As the blankets fell from your shoulders, you shivered against the cold air. 

“What’re you doing on the floor?” You asked. 

“You’re in the bed?” He said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. You rolled your eyes and beckoned towards him.

“Don’t be stupid, you wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want you to anyways.” You grumbled. Sleeping on the ground? You were adults, you could share a bed. You’d only bite if he asked, anyways. He stood up and sat down on the edge of the bed beside you. You absently reached out and fixed his hair so it wasn’t in his eyes. His eyes searched your face with a cautious expression.

“Am I a fool?” Garreth asked you suddenly, making you frown. 

“A fool? What for?” You asked.

“For thinking that there is something to that look in your eyes. That there is some part of you who might want more,” Garreth’s hand closed around your arm and you stared at him stupidly, “there have been so many times I’ve wondered if I should just kiss you, or if it’s all a hopeless daydream. This past year without getting to see that look has been agony. I haven’t known if it was all in my head, if you were with Sallow or someone else, if I ever stood a chance.” An agonized look passed across his face in the dim lighting and he looked away from you. All of your breath left your body like you’d been punched in the chest. This day truly had taken a turn you’d never expected.  

“Gar…” You murmured. 

“A week ago, I’d thought that I could try to move on, and now you’re here. You’re in my house, you’re in my clothes, in my bed… I feel like I’m going mad.” His voice was thick with emotion, and his distress was visible. His hand left your arm. Garreth reached towards your face, but hesitated and started to pull his hand back. You took it and brought it to your cheek. 

“I..” You opened your mouth, cursing your sleep-addled brain for being unable to come up with a reasonable response. You wanted to tell him how you felt about him. You wanted to tell him that you loved him, and you’d been hoping and wishing he’d say he felt the same about you. A flash of lightning showed Garreth’s pained expression as he awaited your response. There weren’t enough words in the world that could adequately describe the way he made you feel. You would rearrange all the stars in the sky if he asked you to, and you didn’t know how to tell him that. 

“I love you.” You whispered instead, and watched as Garreth’s expression changed from stunned to bright as sunshine. You let out a gasp as he lunged forward and kissed you with so much fervor he knocked you onto your back. He pulled back and started to apologize, so you wrapped your arms around him and tugged him back down as you kissed him. Garreth’s strong arms held you tight against him. His kiss was sweet as honey, and you poured every drop of emotion you held into it. You might not be able to tell him how you feel, but you could certainly show him. As your tongue brushed against his lower lip, Garreth let out a groan that seemed to settle right between your legs. You wondered what other delightful noises he was capable of, arousal swiftly spreading through you. 

You spread your legs a little bit, and he fell right between them with a surprised noise. He lifted his head a little, looking at you with a look of disbelief. You could see the want in his eyes, but you could also see the hesitation. You gently squeezed his waist with your bare thighs, and you could see his cheeks going an even darker red. 

“I want you.” You whispered, tugging him down for another kiss. Garreth relented with a gleeful look in his eye, his hands gripping your hips holding you in place as he gently ground against you. He kissed you deeply, his tongue lazily exploring your mouth. His broad hands slowly moved under your borrowed jumper, stroking over your skin slowly and gently. The feeling of his skin against yours was heavenly, and he already had you wanting more. It was unfair that he had this effect on you. 

“You have my heart, darling.” Garreth murmured against your lips, his fingers curling slightly into your skin. You couldn’t stop your smile, your heart beating just a little bit faster. You’d waited years to hear those words. Garreth’s lips trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He nipped gently at your pulse. His hands worked in time with his kisses, pushing up the jumper to expose more of your skin to him. Impatiently, you pushed him back a little bit and pulled it over your head, dumping it onto the floor. Garreth’s green eyes scanned you up and down, his jaw slack. You wondered if you’d caught him off guard by being completely bare under his jumper. 

“You’re beautiful.” Garreth breathed out, his hands reverently running over your skin without restraint. Your back arched as his warm hands cupped your tight breasts, massaging you. The slight roughness to his hands made the most delightful sensations on your skin, you let out a small string of moans as he gently tweaked your already sensitive nipples. He continued to grind against you, becoming more breathless himself. You looked down, watching him work his hands over your skin. He moved them lower, and lower, making sure he touched every inch of your skin with his burning hands. You were panting now, wriggling under his touch as his hands smoothed over your belly and down onto your thighs. You ached for him, needing him to give you some sort of relief to the pressure that had built up between your legs. “Please, Garreth, touch me.” You whined out. 

“I am touching you,” He said with his most charming grin, “I’ve wanted this for years, I intend to take my time.” He whispered in your ear, before giving your neck a sharp nip. 

“Bastard.” You said, despite the smile that played on your lips.

“Do you have any idea what someone like you does to a teenage boy? Seeing you every day at school and not having you was torture” His tongue traced up your jaw and you whimpered. You captured his lips in another kiss, wondering if you could tempt him into giving you what you wanted. He groaned against your mouth at the feeling of your kiss, you pulled out all of your favourite tricks, proving to him you could do many things with your tongue. Your wicked little plan seemed to be working, until Garreth pulled back and looked at you with soft eyes. He began to press kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, the tip of your nose, oh-so-gently over your eyelids, and onto your forehead. He held your thighs in a bruising grip, contrasting with the sweet kisses that now were trailing down your jaw, onto your neck, then down your collar. You were a whining mess as he massaged circles on your inner thighs and kissed every part of your body until his lips hovered just below your belly button. His hands on your thighs tugged you so your lower half was dangling off the side of the bed. 

“Please Garreth.” You whispered, certain you’d burst into flames if he didn’t do something. He looked up at you with hungry eyes, a smile playing at his lips. 

“Anything for you.” He promised, getting on his knees and guiding your legs to rest on his shoulders. He held them in place and licked a firm stripe against your soaked, aching heat and moaned. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a loud moan of your own. He concentrated on your aching clit, his tongue swirling around it carefully before he gently wrapped his lips around you and sucked. You arched into him, crying out loudly because of this. He let out a hum of appreciation, squeezing your thighs. You propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. His eyes were closed, and his head dipped and you felt him tonguing at your soaking hole before he moved back up to latch onto your clit again. This time, his tongue flicked across your sensitive nub while he sucked it and you swore violently, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. Your hips bucked, and he planted one of his hands on your belly to firmly hold you in place. Your core tightened, pressure building inside of you as he kept up the same motion. 

“I’m– Oh Merlin– That’s…” You couldn’t string a sentence together, and the pressure reached its peak and you cried out as a mind-shattering orgasm crashed over you. Your thighs clenched tight around Garreth, and he let out a moan that added to the sensation of his tongue and lips while you rode out your orgasm on his face. He only stopped when your legs twitched, and he was laughing softly as he pulled away from you. You stared at him, your jaw slack. He was a mess, and he was beautiful. The lower half of his face was shining with your slick, his cheeks flushed, and his smile was more than a little arrogant. Your eyes scanned down his body to the bulge in his pants, and then back up to his face. Another flash of lightning lit up the room, almost reminding you to move. You pushed yourself back enough that you could sit up and reach out for him. 

“You, taste amazing.” Garreth murmured to you, stepping in closer so you could reach him. You palmed the bulge in his pants, and he let out a flustered breath. You hadn’t the patience to toy with him, that would have to come another day. You wanted him inside of you now. You pulled his pants down, looking up at him while you did so. His thick cock sprang out, and you let out a little eager whimper at just the thought of him being inside of you. You looked up at him, and he was watching you with love and hunger in his eyes. 

“Come here.” You said, pushing yourself back on the bed and spreading your legs a little bit in invitation. Garreth flashed you an eager smile, pulling his shirt over his head and dumping it on the floor. He stepped out of his pants and crawled onto the bed between your legs. You wrap your arms behind his neck, and lick from his chin up to his cheek tasting yourself on his skin. Garreth let out a strangled moan, and tilted his head to capture you in a scorching kiss. You can almost feel that he’s reached his limit, and now he needs reprieve from his aching arousal. He grinds into you, his head dropping as he does so. You reach down, and guide him to what he seems to be so desperate to have. 

“Oh fuck.” Garreth hisses as he slowly presses into you, his teeth gently clamping down on your shoulder. You couldn’t even make a noise as your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation of Garreth’s thick cock stretching you out. As he fully sheathed himself in you, he stopped moving. 

He lifted his head, looking down into your eyes. His adoration was clear in his eyes, and it caught you a little off-guard. You’d taken men to bed before, but not once had it been someone you loved. This emotional connection you felt to Garreth… It made this feel so much… more. 

“I love you, Garreth.” You reached up and traced your fingers along his jaw. Garreth’s hips began to roll slowly, and he gave you a sweet kiss. He thrust into you with a slow and deep rhythm that had you whining and clawing at his back. The delicious way he stretched you out, paired with the way his pelvis ground against your sensitive nub had you in ecstasy. He clearly felt the same, with the pants and quiet moans that escaped his lips at every movement he made. 

“You feel amazing, Darling,” Garreth whispered to you, “You take me so well. You’re perfect.” He continued with his little praises as he ground into you. He picked up his pace ever so slightly, the steady thrusts had you clenching around his cock already. His forehead dipped and pressed against yours, his hands on your hips as he pulled you against him to get as deep as he could. You planted your feet on the mattress, lifting your hips to help get a new angle. Garreth’s groan was sinful, he sat back on his knees and abruptly began to pound into you. Your eyes rolled back, your pleasure peaking again.

“Right there, shit… right there.” You panted out, and Garreth obliged your wishes. You screamed out his name as your knees buckled and you came hard. The bolts of pleasure had your eyes screwed shut and your mouth making incoherent sounds. He caught you by the waist, holding you up as your walls pulsed over his cock. He fucked you, his groans becoming more and more guttural as he chased his own pleasure. His grip on you tightened almost painfully as his head fell back and he came, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. He allowed you to fall back on the bed now, flopping down beside you. For a long time, the only sounds in the room were the storm still raging outside and the sounds of you and Garreth trying to catch your breath. Eventually, you got enough energy to roll over and nestle into Garreth’s side, with your head on his chest. You stretched up and kissed his jaw, and his arms wrapped around you. 

“I don’t want morning to come.” Garreth said, his voice soft. Morning meant returning to reality. Garreth would have to go to work, and you’d have to return to Feldcroft. 

“Mmm, neither do I.” You agreed. You didn’t want to leave. You knew that you’d made a promise to take care of Anne, but she was spending so much time in London these days that you almost wondered if she would just move in with Ominis and Sebastian. 

“Please don’t ever leave…” He said. 

“I’ll have to get my things.” 

“That’s alright, I’ll help you with that. Mr. Pippin won’t mind if I take a couple days off.” 

“And I’ll have to tell Anne.” 

“I’ll write a letter to send by owl right now.” “And then there’s the matter of you meeting my parents…” 

When Garreth didn’t have a quick solution for that, you let out a little laugh. You would stay, regardless of how much work you’d have to do. You never wanted to leave his side again. 

“Will you stay?” He asked. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Garreth. I’m staying right here.” You promised, kissing his cheek. With a cheeky grin, he rolled over and loomed over you and captured you in a deep kiss, his hand smoothing along your waist. Yes, you’d stay.

[spyroforlife]

I've had further Emberlynn Pinkle thoughts

I think the best possible life for her in Hell. is for her to become a goddamn Overlord

Because wouldn't that just be so fitting. That the person who writes over the top fanfics, who probably makes her characters utter Mary Sues (affectionate) who are amazing and powerful and beloved, actually HERSELF becomes a person of power and status in her afterlife

I like to envision her becoming the Overlord of Smut

She gets herself a real nice headquarters, something like a combined library and apartment building, where those who sold their souls to her can live and be taken care of. They've got Internet, they've got food, and you've got the whole big library and lounge area down on the first floor!!

BUT. If she owns your soul. You're gonna work too. Helping out with the Hell-exclusive version of AO3 she created, of course! Responding to support tickets. Tag wrangling. Doing other admin work. Tech support. You get to have your own account too of course and you get extra features, so you can make your own fics even better~ It's very much encouraged for her employees to be fic writers

And she just makes money from demons donating to her entirely because they love her site full of filthy stories, and they want to be able to continue reading and posting their own fics. Non-employees get more basic accounts but there's still plenty they can do.

This isn't even treading on Valentino's toes. It's just written stuff. It's not using real people, there's nothing being filmed. So in Val's eyes, it's two different industries. He does the live action stuff. Hers is meant to be read. So he doesn't really care, and in fact peruses the site himself for inspiration.

I could see him having a deal with her where if he likes a fic idea, she'll get him in touch with whoever wrote it and help negotiate the person allowing Val to use the idea, in return for some of the profits. Emberlynn and the writer of course split their share, and this is all laid out in the site's TOS. As you can imagine, this does attract demons intentionally trying to get Val's approval with their writing, and those guys are seen as squares, but like. Can't really stop them.

Everyone just generally posts what they like and ignores shit that annoys them. And yeah, massively popular website, ran by Emberlynn and her followers, and their headquarters is often visited by others who just wanna hang out and talk about their own writing.

They sell snacks and stuff to guests, and hey, if you like this and want to be part of their exclusive club.. go talk to the boss lady Emberlynn and she'll get you alll set up.

yea idk. Overlord Emberlynn y'all

oh yeah and of course her powers get stronger as she gains souls, idk what all she'll be able to do exactly but I know for sure she can fly, and I can also see her being an emotion reader who specializes in sensing people's turn-ons, which she can use to direct them to the writers she thinks they'll like the most :D she might also be able to mildly hypnotize people using pheromones or something idk. just throwing ideas around haha Emberlynn is fun and I hope she lives her best monsterfucker life in Hell

[cooliestghouliest]

PUTTY, chapter three

(chapter one), (chapter two), (chapter three)

PAIRING: virgin!Eddie/former cheerleader!Reader

SUMMARY: You and Eddie go to a party.

SERIES TAGS and C/W’s: mutual pining, experienced!Reader, inexperienced!Eddie but he’s eager to learn, mostly sub!Eddie, insecurities and self doubt, narcissistic and/or absent parents, jealousy, mean basketball players, hurt/comfort, they smoke weed, eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), uniform kink, dirty talk, foot jobs, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), public sex, sex toys, unprotected PiV. more to be added as this progresses!!!

WORD COUNT: 5.4k+

TAG LIST: @emma77645, @aliciabb17, @gracieluvthemoon, @kellsck, @figmentofquinn, @mediocredreams

—

Parked on the crowded street a block away from Chrissy Cunningham’s massive Loch Nora home, Eddie sat fidgeting with his hands in his lap. The van was idled. He made no attempts to unbuckle himself, so you turned in your seat to assess him.

Down the road, the yard was full of teenagers, the party seemingly having spilled over from the house to the entire property. Eddie was observing the attendants with a narrowed gaze, almost suspiciously.

You were starting to feel bad for dragging him along.

“Eddie, you don’t have to come in. I’ll just go say hi to Chrissy, and then we can go do something else, if you want,” you suggested, voice soft.

He very much wanted that.

But he knew you were hoping to spend some time around your best friend, and with how often you babysat for Olly nowadays, Eddie assumed you hadn’t had much availability for a social life lately.

He didn’t want to be the reason you missed an opportunity to have fun.

He briefly thought of telling you he was just going to head back to the trailer and for you to enjoy your time at the party, but you’d invited him, and you’d seemed so ecstatic when he’d agreed.

And truthfully, the idea of ditching you there gave him the same uneasy feelings that going inside the party gave him.

It seemed to be a lose/lose situation.

Tired of battling with himself, Eddie decided he was going to go with the option that allowed him to spend more time with you. Otherwise, he’d have to sulk back to Forest Hills and spend the night overthinking about what you were up to. And who you were talking to.

Eddie wasn’t used to the feeling of possession that curled in his stomach at the thought of other guys trying to get with you.

For a brief moment, he let his doubts swirl freely in his mind, his badgering inner voice reminding him that he was no rich jock with a full ride to an Ivy League and was instead just a drug dealing super, super senior who did nothing for his professional future except dream of one day making it big with his music.

But from the fervid patience you were awaiting his answer with, Eddie had to shake his head clear of self-deprecation, recalling your earlier conversation where you had said you actually liked spending time with him, and had told him you wanted to attend the party with him – not Andy or Patrick or any of Jason Carver’s other rich boy cronies.

Who was he to deny you your wildest, most incomprehensible wishes?

“No, no, let’s go,” Eddie finally said, turning off the van. He shot you a grin, full of false bravado. “Really, I wanna go.” He didn’t, but he was going to fake it ‘till he make’d it.

You returned the grin without hesitation, eyes filling with relief. For a moment there, you’d half expected Eddie to bail on you. And really, you wouldn't have blamed him, considering being put in this social situation was clearly wreaking havoc in his brain.

Eddie clicked the van locked and pocketed the keys as you tried to sweeten the deal for him, wanting to ease as much worry as you could. You didn’t bring him here to stress him out, you brought him here so you could both have a good time, drinking and laughing without the obligation of watching a six-year-old.

“I think Steve might be here,” you offered, knowing the pair had become quite close.

If Eddie were to be honest, hearing Harrington might also be there did make him feel better.

Dustin had introduced them to one another the year prior. While they didn’t mesh at first, essentially polar opposites, the two bonded when they’d both impromptu taken edibles together.

It happened one movie night at Nancy Wheeler’s.

Eddie brought his own brownie stash and had accidentally left them out on the kitchen counter. Steve, thinking Mrs. Wheeler had baked the goods for the get-together, had eaten two before Eddie caught him. He spent the first part of the night talking Steve down out of a panic attack, and then they spent the second part of the night laughing their asses off, laying in Nancy’s pool fully clothed, floating on almost airless rafts.

They’d been friends ever since.

Something else also made Eddie feel better about heading into the party.

You had grabbed his hand in yours at some point as you made your way up the driveway, your warm fingers interlocking with his own.

For the second time that night, you made him feel invincible.

Like nothing could go wrong.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You hadn’t been inside the house two minutes before Chrissy’s voice rang out in the midst of the crowd.

“You made it!” the girl practically yelled, weaving her small frame through the sea of bodies that packed the usually spacious foyer. When she finally made her way to you and Eddie, she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, drunkenly swaying side to side and giggling. When Chrissy pulled away, she looked to your side, spotting your companion. “And Eddie! Hi, Eddie!”

Eddie couldn’t help but crack a smile at the bubbly blonde’s welcome. She, like you, had been a rarity at Hawkins High School.

Whereas most of the popular students had either avidly avoided the likes of Eddie or chose to interact with him solely to make his life a living hell, you and Chrissy never negatively singled anyone out. Instead, the two of you would do things like volunteer to be partners with the quietest kids in class for a project, or you’d both sit with new students during lunch until they found their own cliques.

Eddie never understood why either of you willingly chose to spend your free time with the likes of Jason and the rest of the Hawkins sports roster. He chalked it up to you both just playing your predestined roles. Once you fit a certain mold or stereotype in Hawkins, it was pretty hard to branch out from it. Eddie of all people could understand that.

“Hey, Chris,” he greeted, happy she didn’t go to hug him as well. The last thing Eddie needed was Carver thinking he was making moves on his girlfriend.

Actually, the quicker he got away from her, the better. He liked Chrissy, he truly did, but wherever she was, her loverboy was soon to follow, and Eddie didn’t feel like being instigated into a fight right now.

His eyes flitted around the expanse of the house, eventually spotting Steve by the sliding glass back door, standing with Nancy and Jonathan.

Your gaze followed Eddie’s. You hadn’t been totally sure Steve would be there, so you inwardly thanked the universe for small miracles. Now that Eddie could relax in like-minded company, you didn’t feel so bad parting ways with him for a little while. Of course, you wouldn’t have minded if Eddie tagged along by your side the whole night, but you knew he’d dread every minute of having to be around Jason and his buddies, who unfortunately came with the Chrissy package.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” you lightly nudged Eddie’s shoulder with yours, smiling up at him. “I’ll come find you in a little bit.”

Eddie’s chocolate hues dropped to you, a grateful expression on his face at your suggestion. “Don’t leave me hangin’ for too long, sweetheart,” he teased, although he really wasn’t joking at all. “I dunno how long I’ll last around all these big, scary basketball players without my Princess to protect me.” After a dramatic bow, Eddie vanished into the crowd.

Chrissy, beyond inebriated, hadn’t paid much attention to the exchange. With Eddie gone, she pulled on your arm, tugging you away, slurring, “C’mon! Y’have so many shots to drink t’catch up with me!”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You really had not planned on getting drunk.

Tipsy, yeah, sure. A few beers, maybe a shot or two of some expensive spirit Mrs. Cunningham had imported from Europe.

But glassy-eyed and giggly, your skin flushed warm, an alcohol-induced pink blush sprouted over the apples of your cheeks?

No, that was not in tonight’s itinerary.

But Chrissy knew you’d been slaving away with work the past few months, hardly finding time in your busy schedule to come see your best friend cheer or link up and spend too much money at Starcourt Mall like you both used to.

You, although the same age as Chrissy, had gotten your diploma a year early, and hadn’t stopped working toward your goal of getting the hell out of Hawkins from the moment you walked across the stage at graduation. At job after job, you would often work overtime and weekends, trying to save up as much as you could.

It was admirable, but there had to be balance, something you were never good at finding on your own.

Damn Chrissy Cunningham for being so persuasive and persistent, wanting her best friend to let loose again and join her on a drunken tirade, similar to those you’d indulged in throughout your time together in high school.

Chrissy had begrudgingly disappeared several minutes earlier after Jason had swept her away. She didn’t want to leave you yet, wanted to spend as much time with you as she could, but she didn’t want to disappoint Jason either. You could see the struggle in her eyes, so you made the decision for her, promising you’d catch up more later in the week.

Plus, while you loved your best friend dearly, right now you felt a drumming deep within you – a desperate sensation. The tequila you’d downed urged you to find Eddie. You wanted to curl up into his side and breathe him in, wanted the aroma of his strawberry blunt wraps and tea-tree mint shampoo to fill your senses.

The party had dwindled down some, but there was still an impressive amount of people stationed all over the house, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly where your long-haired target was hiding out. There was no double vision yet, but you blinked a few times and took a breath to stabilize yourself anyway, not wanting to stumble drunkenly as you walked.

You’d made it as far as the kitchen when two arms branched out around either side of you, a letterman jacket coming into view as your lower back was pressed against the marble of the island counter. A tall male with dark hair and dark eyes smirked down at you, a predator satisfied he’d cornered his prey.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi, Chance,” you answered, not appreciating the personal space he was impeding on. You attempted to move out of his barrier, but he just repositioned his weight, keeping you caged in between his arms.

His breath was hot on your cheek, the smell of beer wafting from him strongly. Everything about him was making your stomach turn. “What’re you doin’ all by yourself?” he asked. “Heard you came with Munson,” pause for a scoff, “but I knew that must’ve been a fucking joke.”

“Why would that be a joke?” you countered, brows furrowed. “I did come here with him.” You moved your gaze from the annoying presence in front of you to scan the room, trying again to find Eddie. “Actually, d’you know where he is?”

“Oh yeah, saw him drawing a pentagram on the sidewalk out front. Think it was in virgin’s blood. He was speaking some other language, too.”

You rolled your eyes, your patience running very thin. You were so sick of people making assumptions and passing judgments just because someone else was different than they were.

You had half a mind to make a snide remark about how the whole town knew Chance Deely’s mom had an affair on his dad with the pastor from the Presbyterian church, and did that mean she must have been worshiping demons too since she did something so immoral and uncouth?

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, trying again to duck away from his arms.

You took in a sharp breath when you felt Chance’s hand move to grip your waist, pulling your body to his.

“Come on, babe,” he said, the pads of his fingers digging uncomfortably into your clothed skin. “Lemme take you home. I know your daddy likes me. I’m sure I can convince him to let me stay the night…”

What a clueless moron. He didn’t even know you hadn’t lived with your parents for the past year now. But you’d let him keep thinking that, finding solace in the fact that he didn’t know where to find you if the creep ever decided to try and stalk you out one night.

“And do what?” you asked, now emboldened both by your intoxication and the nerve this idiot had cornering you like this. “Have a sleepover with him? I don’t want you, Chance.”

His jaw ticked, his features hardening, undoubtedly in an attempt to make you feel small and scared. You felt neither.

“Get off of me, Deely. I mean it.”

“Or what, huh? You gonna sic your vampire boyfriend on me?”

“No, I’ll fucking bite you myself.”

His eyes flashed and his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he considered you, humming in approval.

“Yeah, I’d like to get that mouth on me…”

You rolled her eyes again, so hard this time you wondered if they’d stick. “In your wet dreams, douchebag. Now get. Off.” You tried prying yourself away from him once more, swatting at the hand he had on your waist.

It just made Chance double down, pressing his center against you crudely. “I’m trying to get off, baby,” he said, giving a disgusting pout. “You won’t let me.”

“Do you not know what ‘no’ means, Deely?” a familiar voice interjected from behind Chance.

Your heart swelled as you raised your gaze to find Eddie’s dark eyes glaring daggers at the boy who’d had you cornered. You smiled wide at him, an odd juxtaposition when mixed with Eddie’s beyond irritated expression and Chance’s feeble attempts at seduction (which were more harassments than anything else).

You were so relieved to have this Bambi-eyed boy come to your rescue.

“What I do know is that nobody asked you, Munson,” Chance countered. He still kept his body turned towards yours, much to your dismay. “Why don’t you go and fuck a corpse or something, freak? Leave me –”

But his words were cut off when you brought your knee up to budge as hard as you could in between his legs.

Chance whined loudly, falling to the ground, clutching his hopefully bruised balls in his hands.

The partygoers had been distracted with their own conversations up until that point, but with Chance Deely crying out on the floor, writhing around pathetically, everyone’s attention was on you and Eddie.

“The fuck’s going on in here?” came Jason Carver’s voice over the other loud mumblings in the crowd.

“That's our cue to leave, Princess,” Eddie alerted, grasping your wrist in his hand as he pulled you from the Cunningham residence with haste.

You tossed your head back and laughed, hurriedly following Eddie out.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

The ride from Chrissy’s place to yours wasn’t long at all. Five minutes, tops.

While Eddie was focused on the road ahead of him, fingers white-knuckling the steering wheel at the thought of Chance Deely’s roaming hands, you were staring intently at your getaway driver.

You watched as his jaw clenched and relaxed, then clenched and relaxed again. He wasn’t doing anything special, just sitting there stewing in inner turmoil, but he was still so, so handsome. Handsome and heroic.

Although you were the one to administer the knee to Chance’s most prized possessions, you knew Eddie wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same and maybe even more to defend you. You thought back to the hateful look in his eyes as he stared the back of Chance’s head down, fists ready to make contact with the stupid fuck’s face if need be.

Eddie’s eagerness to be of service to you, for you, turned you on more than you thought it would. The fuzzy feelings from the alcohol helped loosen your inhibitions, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together for some sort of friction as Eddie pulled up in front of your apartment.

You watched as he took a deep breath in, eyes shutting momentarily before exhaling and turning his attention to you.

He softened his face, forcing his mouth to curve into a smile. Underneath it all, you could tell he was still buzzing with anger and adrenaline.

“Would you please walk me inside?” you asked, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. You were trying to appear inconspicuous. “They might know where I live. I’d feel safer if you came up with me.”

‘They’ meant Jason and his friends.

It maybe was a bit of overkill on your part to pull the damsel in distress card. You weren’t afraid of Carver or Deely. For the most part, they were all talk.

It also helped your sense of security that your neighbor across the hall was a police officer, something which Jason was aware of. He’d almost gotten arrested for banging on your door at one in the morning to try to get to Chrissy after the couple had one of their explosive arguments.

Chrissy had found refuge at your apartment a handful of times over the past year, leading Jason to look your address up so he always knew where to find his girlfriend when she ran off.

Each time he came pounding, Officer Hammond would swing open his door and dangle a pair of cuffs in Jason’s direction. It had the blonde boy scurrying away, the fear of an arrest that would hurt his chances at a basketball scholarship dominating his caveman impulse to steal Chrissy away.

Technically, you weren’t lying to Eddie. Although you weren’t scared of Carver and his friends, you would feel safer with Eddie around. Just because.

And fortunately for you, Eddie would never pass up the chance to play protector, especially when it was you who was asking him so nicely.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

“I can’t believe you kneed him in the nuts, that was fucking hilarious,” Eddie laughed, following you up the stairs to your third-floor apartment.

“I should have twisted them off, but then I would’ve had to touch him.” As an afterthought, you added, “Which, gross.”

“So gross,” Eddie agreed.

Stepping inside your apartment, you immediately kicked off your shoes. Eddie’s eyes dropped to the ground, following your movements, and he noted that you were wearing those cute white ankle socks with the pretty lace ruffle at the top. Those were the kind he remembered you wearing all the time at school, complete with your green, white, and yellow cheer outfit.

The memory of you in that uniform, bouncing up at down at one of the school rallies, had Eddie trying to secretly adjust himself in his jeans.

He he hung back in the doorway, ready to leave.

Eddie’d noticed the rousing stare you’d been giving him in the van. It was a look he’d often shot your way, when he was sure you weren’t paying attention. Full of want and yearning. He hadn’t missed the sight of your thighs pressing together either.

But you’d been drinking. That probably explained away the actions. You just weren’t thinking straight.

Eddie didn’t want to overstep or take advantage, so his plan was to be a gentleman and escort you up, then head back to his van and jerk off to the thought of you begging him to touch you.

You had other ideas.

You reached your hand out and bunched your fingers into his black Iron Maiden band tee, trying to tug him toward you. It wasn’t enough to physically move him, but enough so that he’d get the gist of what you wanted.

“What’re you still doing out there?” you asked, tilting your head down to look up at him through your lashes. Your expression was coy. “You can come inside, Eddie.”

A double entendre if he’d ever heard one. He had to force back a groan as his imagination went wild.

“I shouldn’t,” he tried, hand moving down to grasp yours in an attempt to loosen your grip. Eddie didn’t really want you to let go, though. He wished you’d grab him harder, not give him a choice, pull him inside and have your way with him. Gentleman, gentleman, gentleman, he had to remind himself in his head. “I was just making sure you got up here safe. I should, uh, probably get going… it’s kinda late…”

The pretty pout you shot at him further loosened his resolve to leave, and he felt glued to the spot in your entranceway. “I’m a big girl, Eddie, I don’t have a bedtime. You don’t wanna hang out more?” you asked, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. “Y’know, I wasn’t serious about being afraid of Jason and his boyfriends… it was just a big ploy to get you to come up here with me.” You bit at your lip in an effort to hide a grin, trying to keep the innocent facade playing on your face. “Thought maybe I could show you where I live, since I’m always at yours… and I just rented the new Texas Chainsaw movie. Haven’t watched it yet.”

Eddie found it was getting increasingly harder to say no to you, with your hands on him, pulling him gently toward you. Each word you spoke sounded like it was being sung by a siren.

A movie seemed… safe.

His eyes drifted past you to your living room, where he assumed you’d want to watch it. He was satisfied with the size of the couch. He’d be able to put enough space between the two of you to keep it friendly, because that’s probably what you really wanted, just to be friendly, but the buzz you were still feeling maybe had you thinking you wanted to be a little more than just friendly.

In the morning, Eddie figured you’d probably regret anything you may have ended up trying to do. He promised himself he wouldn’t let you get that far. He figured he’d be able to limit any physical contact by positioning himself at whatever far end of the couch you weren’t on.

He really, really did want to be around you. He just couldn’t for the life of him believe or understand why you were saying you wanted the same thing. Must’ve been the booze.

But he could take advantage of this moment, couldn’t he? Without taking advantage of you? He would just make sure things stayed PG.

“You drive a hard bargain, Princess,” he conceded, giving in and walking inside. He clicked the door shut behind him, happy to have your hand still clinging needy to his shirt. “I can’t say no to a pretty girl who wants to watch Tobe Hooper with me. There’s just one thing that’d make this night even better…”

You rose an inquisitive brow at him. You could think of many, many things that would make this night better, and they all ended with you so fucked out that you couldn’t remember your name and could only remember Eddie’s.

Maybe he was about to finally give you both what you wanted – or, well, what you wanted, and what you had only hoped Eddie wanted, too.

You leaned closer to him, waiting for his suggestion.

“Got any popcorn?”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

You’d been on the couch with Texas Chainsaw Massacre playing in the background for the past half hour.

While you had ulterior motives and didn’t plan on strictly watching the entire time, Eddie was acting as if this was the greatest movie to have ever been written, his wide eyes almost unblinking as he focused on nothing but the television.

And even though he was also seated on the couch, he still seemed far away, having chosen to sit at the end furthest from you.

You didn’t want to encroach on his personal space, fearful maybe you’d been reading every sign you’d ever thought he’d given you wrong and he in fact wasn’t interested. Had you known for certain he wanted you like you wanted him, you would have been in his lap the second he sat down.

You had to play it a little safer first. Test the waters.

This is how your socked foot ended up in Eddie’s lap.

Totally safe.

The empty bowl of popcorn, which had been resting on one of Eddie’s knees, clattered to the floor when he felt your heel weighed down on his thigh.

Eddie had been forcing his attention to stay focused on the movie, not daring to drift his eyesight to you sprawled out beside him, your tight sundress so far up your legs he knew he’d be able to see your panties if he looked.

His gaze finally shot over to you when you’d made the contact, but you were now the one pretending to be engrossed in the gory horror movie. Eddie could have sworn he saw an uptick in the corner of your mouth when the bowl clattered to the ground, but it was dark and he couldn’t be sure.

Swallowing hard, his eyes dropped down to his lap, watching as your foot flexed and relaxed repeatedly.

The crotch of his jeans felt tight, his heartbeat picking up pace at the thought of you possibly feeling how hard he was growing right now. If you’d just move your foot over one or two more inches, he’d feel the solid warmth of you where he wanted to feel you the most.

How would you react? Would you freak out? You wouldn’t, right? You were playing footsies with his fucking lap, for Christ’s sake. This wasn’t innocent, was it? It couldn’t have been.

“You don’t mind, right?” you asked him, attention still on the TV, forcing nonchalance into your tone. “Feels good to stretch like this. And you’re so warm.”

He was about to respond, was about to say he didn’t mind, not at all; fuck, he’d be anything for you — a footrest, a heater, a guard dog, a servant, a total fucking fool. But when your foot finally met with the bulge forming under his denim, Eddie inhaled harshly, a hand coming up to wrap around your ankle, stopping you.

When he turned to look at you this time, you were staring right back at him.

You were propped up on your elbows now and he could feel you trying to wiggle your foot free.

“Let me, Eddie,” you urged. “Please.”

His grip faltered on your ankle at your pleading, and you took the chance to weasel it out of his hand. You wasted no time tracing the thick outline of him over his jeans with the ball of your foot, the bite of the zipper pressing into his sensitive length causing him to hiss.

You brought your other foot up to join in, using your toes to curl around the girth of him, kneading back and forth.

Those fucking socks, fuck. Eddie already had his fair share of dirty fantasies of you in your cheer uniform – the whole ensemble, head to toe – and he knew he’d now never be able to look at a pair of lacy frilled socks normally ever again.

Eddie groaned, his head falling back against the couch. His eyes fluttered shut but only momentarily before they found you again. You didn’t bother containing your wide grin, your teeth sunk into the softness at the center of your bottom lip.

“Put your hands on them, pet,” he gave another groan at the nickname, “so you can make yourself feel good.”

Eddie’s brain was clouded with desire, and he could feel his face warming at your request.

“I don’t – I mean, um… you’re drunk…” he was stumbling over his words because your feet wouldn’t stop, rubbing and pressing in all the right places.

Your head dipped back with a little laugh. “Not really,” you lied. You were definitely still feeling the effects of a forgotten number of mixed drinks, but that didn’t change the fact that you’d been hoping this was where the night would lead five hours ago. Or even five months ago. Very pre-drunkenness. “And even if I was…” you trailed off momentarily, giving your heel another ground down against his lap. “Was I drunk when I held your hand at the party? Or when I told you earlier how much I liked being around you?”

Eddie thought for a moment before shaking his head. No, you weren’t. Holy shit, so he had read all your signs right. You were interested in him. He wasn’t just imagining all of it.

Okay, fuck. He could work with that. He probably shouldn’t, probably should have stuck to his guns and told you to wait until tomorrow when you were for sure sobered up.

But Eddie was typically an act now, deal with it later type of guy. And right now, he was finding it very hard to be any different.

He’d never done anything like this before, had never even gotten much further than just making out, but Eddie didn’t let his self-doubt rule at the forefront of his mind for once.

Not tonight.

Not with your feet in his lap and your voice telling him the dirty things you wanted him to do. Not when his upstairs brain was closing up shop, tossing the keys to his confined cock.

“Wanna make you feel good, too,” he said, hands finding your ankles again. He didn’t halt their movements this time. Now he encouraged them to move, slowly beginning to rock his hips up into the soles of your feet.

With that admission, you realized you weren’t just projecting your own desires when you’d catch him staring at you through the kitchen window while you played with Olly out front; when he’d put his hands on your waist as he passed by you in the trailer’s cramped hallway; when he’d lick his lips and watch your own as you talked to him about some minor detail from your day.

Eddie wanted you, too.

And with how fucking hard he was, you realized he wanted you bad.

Your head lolled to one side as you observed him. “I wanna watch you use me ‘till you’re about to come.” The TV wasn’t too far away, and with the relatively bright scene on the screen at the moment, you could tell he was hanging off of your every word. You could feel him tightening his grip around the width of your feet, pulling them down harder against him. “If you’re a good boy and stop before you get all messy, then maybe I’ll let you make me feel good, too.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed in equal parts desire and disbelief at your words, his parted lips forming the shape of an ‘O’. It was all he could do to nod wordlessly, feeling dumb in the best kind of way, his eyes not wavering from yours once as he got to work.

[koolades-world]

Hello is hug deprived anon again (this might be becoming my name oh no) and I’ve had an idea

I’m sure we can all agree that mammon deserves all the love, especially because his brothers are too mean to him, they pretend they don’t love him too constantly

So, what if Mammon is away for a week, doing photoshoots or dealing with witches or something, and MC is moping because they miss him,, like, they keep turning to their side to whisper to him and then like deflating when they see no Mammon,, and like, reaching out on that side to hold his hand and then being confused when there’s nothing there, and then they realize :( maybe they stole his blanket from his room because it smells like him, so it’s the best substitute for Mammon hugs while he’s away

Maybe Beel (idk if any of the other bros would be nice enough to tell him) is texting him like “your human is too sad come back soon” and sending him pictures of MC doing this stuff

When Mammon returns MC jumps on him for hugs like “you’re home!!!!!”

Idk I think he’d cry

I think he would feel very loved and probably also cry abt it

What you think? What do you think he’d do?

(If you choose not to write anything about this no worries obviously) (but I eventually might lol I think it’d be very cute and make him very happy to have someone who really misses him when he’s away)

HI!! haha if you want and plan to request more, feel free to pick an anon name! or I could just call you something like hug LOL

wayyy back when I first got into obey me in like 2021, there was this one specific fic I read kind of similar to his idea where mammon was upset at be mistreated and mc stood up for him and it was this cute bonding moment, and this request kinda reminded me of that!! gonna try to channel it a little bit

this idea is literally so cute and I'd be happy to write it! it makes my brain like a cat who has the zoomies hehe enjoy :D

How Ironic

You watched agonizingly as the clock ticked by even slower than usual. You'd been trying to do some sort of work, or anything other than stare at the damned clock forever now, but you just couldn't focus.

It had been exactly four days, six hours, and fifteen minutes and counting since Mammon had left for a week long promotional photoshoot in another ring of hell. You had your sad, but sweet send off and you promise yourself that time apart might be good for you. After all, it always felt like you could never get anything done with Mammon around. Yet, here you were, staring blankly at a clock with a blank piece of paper and pen in front of you.

Finally deciding to throw in the towel for now, you got up from your desk in your room. A walk to a local convivence store was in order. Snacks and fresh air wasn't a combo you could pass up. On your way out, you passed the door to his room which was slightly ajar. You briefly had the thought to poke your head in and ask him if he wanted to come, before remembering that he wouldn't be in there. You continued your walk to the front door, where you put on your shoes and grabbed a bag that had a few necessities in it for the short journey.

Thankfully, you hadn't passed any of his brothers on the way there, meaning you didn't have to explain yourself or have them ask to tag along. While you enjoyed their company, they weren't Mammon. If you needed help, you could always summon one of them thanks to the pacts, but you needed this short walk to clear your head.

The air was unfortunately stifling and overly humid outside, making you glad you were dressed light. It was basically just your pajamas but when you went out with Mammon, the two of you did this every time. As you autopiloted to your favorite corner store, your thoughts wandered back to Mammon again. You wondered how he was doing and if he missed being at home. You couldn't blame him if he didn't and hoped he was enjoying his time away from home as much as you wished he was by your side.

Once you got to the store, you wandered around for a bit, debating what to get. After grabbing a small basket, you began to pile in various things that sounded good. Once the basket was full, you came to the realization that all the snacks were Mammon's favorites; hell sauce flavored instant noodles, Chaos Devil Cider and ginger ale to mix, Devilbee honey popcorn, and a variety pack of Devildom gummies. This is what he introduced you to the first time you did a snack run together. You decided, in light of this discovery, to buy extras for him for when he got back. You figured he would enjoy it and it was the least you could do to thank him for introducing you to so many tasty things you would've not tried otherwise. Once you checked out, you returned back to the House of Lamentation with a new skip in your step.

You made your way back up to your room, and passed the ajar door of Mammon's room again. Memories of the two of you together flooded back again, and you couldn't help but step in. Just being in his room was like he was really right next to you again. You couldn't help but sit on his sofa and think about how much you missed him even though it hadn't even been a full week. His absence made you realize how much you missed his presence. After a moment, you decide to leave the snacks you bought for him on his bedside table so his brothers were less likely to wander in and find them before him.

As you were setting down everything you'd gotten for him, you something caught your eye just about to fall off the end of his bed. After you picked it off the edge of his bed, you realized it was the hoodie he always wore around the house. It was faded from lots of usage and the strings were fraying. You knew it smelt like his cologne and his shampoo from all of the tight embraces he'd given you while wearing it. You for sure thought he would've taken it with him, but it looked as if he had thrown it off last minute and thrown it on his bed without looking back.

Looking around as if someone might be watching (which could very well be the case since Lucifer was notoriously quiet), you pulled it to your chest and deeply inhaled. Of course, there was the chance that it was dirty, but you couldn't care less. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen of him before. Since there really wasn't anything stopping you, you took it back to your room with you. You weren't even really that cold, in all honesty. It was more of the idea that he was right next to you since it smelt just like him.

You continued your night like you had before you left, just with his hoodie on. You were magically much more productive wearing it and you managed to get several things done. Usually, you would be chatting with Mammon on the phone at about this time to talk about how your days were, but he was unfortunately busy with something work related. Instead, you decided to send him a sweet goodnight text and send a picture of your set up with the food and the show you've been watching one episode at a time. Not expecting a response before you called it a night, you turn your phone off and focused on eating and watching tv.

Beel wasn't sure what woke him up first: his stomach or Mammon blowing up his phone. Sitting up in his bed, he peered at his screen, squinting at it. He had at least twenty texts from his brother asking him to check on Mc for him after they hadn't responded to his texts. He wasn't sure if Mammon knew they were probably asleep or if he was just worrying for no reason. Either way, he decided to check on them for him anways. After his kitchen run, of course.

After letting Mammon know, he got out of bed and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, however, he ended up following the smell of cup noodles to Mc's room. There, he was able to complete both of his missions. He snapped a picture of Mc fast asleep with a couple half finished snacks, then took the snacks. Mission complete.

Mammon was only halfway through the only kind of dumb business dinner when he spammed Beel about Mc. He was more worried than he would admit to himself about them. He knew it was probably nothing and that they had fallen asleep, but Beel was usually awake at this time eating anyways. The food was nice and he was the star of the show, but the dinner was much too stifling for his taste. Most importantly, it was cutting into his precious time with Mc, something he looked forward to at the end of every day. He loved getting to hear their voice after being away from them for so long. He missed getting to see them in person, but getting to hear them was next best.

As he was poking at his food, he finally got the response he was waiting hand and foot on. Beel had responded with just an image at first, so he scrambled to open it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a picture of his beloved Mc fast asleep in their bed. You looked so peaceful but your face was barely visible because of the hood pulled up over your eyes. After squinting, he realized the hoodie you were wearing looked oddly familiar. He realized that that was his hoodie, the one he'd left on his bed when he was late the morning he left.

He could barely contain his excitement and it must had been evident on his face since those around him glanced at him, and then between each other a few times. He saved the photo to his phone, and texted Beel back a thanks. As everyone talked around him, he debating asking to leave the shoot early right then and there. If he left right now, he would be able to make it home before you woke up. While he entertained this thought for a while, eventually he decided to stick it out since there were only a few days left. As soon as he was allowed to leave, however, he would buy you something with the paycheck he'd be given. Something nice, maybe a gold bracelet that would remind you of him when you see it. He spent the rest of the night thinking, then dreaming about you. He could only hope you were doing the same. (you were <3)

After those final two and a half agonizing days and many texts later, it was finally time for Mammon to return home. For now, he decided to leave his car parked just outside the house, since he may or may not have been planning to take you out to dinner later that day. As soon as he walked in the door, one of his suitcases in tow, something, or rather someone, attacked him with a flying hug. At first, he was processing the situation as Mc began to squeal and squeeze him as tight as they could into a hug. He wasn't really sure where they had come from, but he knew who it was as soon as their arms were around him.

"MAMMON!" Mc swung the both of them around, buzzing with excitement. "Diavolo, I missed you so much. I don't want to let go of you. If you don't take me with you next time, I might die of sadness and loneliness!" Their arms were around his neck, and their face in his chest. He finally let go of his suitcase and hugged them back. He held them close, shutting his eyes for a moment to take it all in.

"I missed ya too. 's good to be back." He, again, couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. His brothers never expressed themselves the way Mc was to him in that moment, so he wasn't quite sure how to feel. They never seemed excited to see him, so it was so refreshing to see Mc visibly excited and made him feel truly loved. All their time apart was worth moments like these.

As MC was squealing, a few of his brothers began to gather around the foyer around them. Perhaps they heard them, or maybe they knew he'd be back today at around this time. Either way, he waved at them, still keeping an arm around Mc.

"Guys! Mammon is back." Mc nuzzled his neck, still holding onto him.

"We can see that." Belphie remarked, sounding unamused. Mammon's smile faded a little. So, they didn't care that he was back, did they? He should've expected that from them. Actually, they probably wished he'd been gone for longer with the way they treated him sometimes.

"I talked to you guys about this. I don't expect you to do what I'm doing, but you need to show him you're happy he's back. You can't lie, he's irreplaceable! I don't know what I'd do without him, and I missed him so much." Just like that, Mc's words lifted him back up. Suddenly, he was no longer upset that his brothers didn't care. He had the attention and care from the person he thought about the entire time he was gone. "Shame on you all. Don't expect me to talk to you for the next few days. Let's get your things from the car, and go upstairs. We have so much to catch up on!" Mc only let go of his neck to grab his hand instead. They dragged him back out of the house, shutting the door with their foot behind the two of them.

"Mc, ya didn't have to do all that fer me..." Mammon glanced back at the shut door. His brothers didn't open it, or try to follow them.

"But I did! You're my first man, after all. I really can't express how much I missed you and just saying it doesn't feel like enough." They reached into the trunk of his car to begin taking out his suitcases. Mammon moved them aside gently, not wanting them to do even more for him that he felt as if he didn't deserve.

Mammon was silent for a moment, then decided to go digging through his backpack for the bracelet he'd bought for you. He hoped it would make it easier to tell you how he felt. "Here, this is fer you." He presented the small, black box to them. Looking caught off guard, they accepted it and opened it carefully. Your mouth dropped open as you saw the golden piece of jewelry he bought for you on the drive back.

"Mammon! This is beautiful. Thank you so much! But, I don't understand why. What's the occasion?" You removed it from the box and held it up to the light to study it. Several small charms hung off of it.

"That's the thing. There isn't one." He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet before continuing. "I just... yer so good to me. Ya texted me daily, called me daily, thought about me while I was gone, and even waited fer me like that so ya could surprise me when I got back. Ya care, and I know I'm not the best with showin' I care and it makes me feel shitty. Thank you, fer everythin'. I really missed ya." He couldn't see how Mc reacted, but was essentially tackled into another hug again by them.

"Mams, you show me you care in little ways. Just because you don't say it, doesn't mean that you don't. You just being back here with me is more than enough." He immediately thought about how ironic the entire situation was. He never actually told them how he felt and treated them like garbage sometimes, and he thought it might've been pushing the person he cared for most away, but really, he never had to worry about that. he'd never considered that they could see past his inability to admit his feelings. He hugged them back, savoring the moment since this time they were alone.

"Thank you Mc." He held back happy tears.

"No, thank you! Thank you for always being by my side. Now, instead of actually unpacking, let's just lock the car and sneak back inside. Maybe they'll eventually feel sorry and come looking for us, but we'll actually be hiding right under their noses. It'll be like a spy mission." Mc giggled leaning back to see his face. Mammon let them look him in the eyes, glistening tears and all.

"Yeah, let's do that. We can watch that movie ya wanted to watch and just share headphones." He found himself joining in with the quiet laughing along to something he wasn't sure either of them really understood. Something he did understand however, was that he knew he was loved back by the one he loved the most, and couldn't ask for more.

[ghcstao3]

that one awful tiktok where a girl unironically bashes a guy she had a date with because they were supposed to meet at 6 pm at a restaurant and she messaged him at 6:10 pm she is on her way and by the time she got there at 6:50 pm he was nowhere to be found but with ghoap where soap is the guy and ghost is a waiter at the restaurant who approaches the sad looking soap and tells him 'they don't deserve you' and steals soap for a date after his shift ends.

It takes Ghost all of ten seconds to predict how this man's night would go, after witnessing his patient smile fall away for a saddened look only moments after glancing down at his phone screen. Ghost casts a look at the clock in the kitchen, reads 6:10, then turns to take the plates of another order sat in the window out to be served.

He's seen this sort of thing happen countless times before.

At some point, it just becomes a classic scenario for any waiter—one person shows up for their date, diligently on time, then lingers alone at their table for ten minutes longer than they're meant to. They receive a text—if they're even that lucky—then they wait another twenty, then finally realize they've been properly stood up.

If a waiter pities them enough, they might get a free drink or an appetizer. Nothing will be mentioned of the fact that they are unintentionally alone at a restaurant, because that is simply not a waiter's business.

That's just life with the godawful modern day dating scene. Ghost has seen the situation play out more than enough times to decide that it probably isn't for him.

Probably.

Because he finds his gaze continually drifting back to the man alone in his booth, and a tiny, shameful part of Ghost's brain is holding onto the hope that the date never shows up.

And because, when the man is finally resigning himself to slip out of the booth as it nears seven o'clock without the slightest hint of an appearance from his promised date, Ghost finds himself travelling over to the table before the man can leave, with a very stupid proposition in his mind and primed on his tongue.

Ghost clutches the laminated menus he had collected just prior with clammy hands, even as he projects an air of casualness like his heart isn't in his throat the second he meets eyes with the man.

Whoever had stood him up would surely have to regret doing so.

The waiter clears his throat as he realizes he's been staring too long at the man caught halfway through getting out of his seat.

"Sorry, I just... wanted to say that I think you deserve better company."

A brief look of confusion passes over the man's face before he glances to the empty spot across from him, shoulders hunching in on himself as his face goes lax, if not a bit irritated. He shrugs. "Nothin' I can do. Not looking for..." He sighs, peering up at Ghost with a strange expression crossing his face. He swallows. "Not looking for pity."

"I'm not here to offer pity," Ghost amends hastily. "I see this shit happen all the time, I get it." A deep breath. He never gets nervous like this, but something about the stranger was just so striking. "I was actually looking to ask you on a date. A real one."

The man blinks. "Oh?"

"My shift's over at seven. If that's something you're interested in."

The man seems to genuinely mull the idea over. His eyes flicker to the name tag pinned to Ghost's chest before looking back up at the waiter's face. "Don't see why not," he finally says. "Simon."

Ghost decides already that he likes the way this man says his name.

A smile tugs at the corners of Ghost's lips, only a faint pull. "Alright. I'll see you in ten minutes, then...?"

"John."

Ghost nods. Echoes, "John." Then returns to the final minutes of his shift with an odd sense of giddiness in his chest.

And later, during their date, when John receives an angry text from the woman that was meant to meet him wondering where he was after they had long left the restaurant, both him and Simon are able to laugh about it with a much better night to make up for the rest.

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof - Alternative Ending

Summary: Starts immediately after Chapter 5 where you unwittingly sacrificed yourself to keep Wanda alive.

Word count: 5k+ | Tags: Angst and character death(s) | Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Author's Note: This was suggested by @dogsandlife, and I'm super glad for it because I was already toying with this idea. I just couldn't bring myself to hurt most of you so I went ahead with the other plot. But for my angst-loving readers, I hope you enjoy this alternative ending :)

Series Masterlist

-

The compound is anything but quiet. 

One can hear hushed whispers, the shuffling of feet, and the distant drones of machines. It's not loud, but there's a heavy feeling in the air. Grief. Everyone's dealing with the recent destruction—surgeries, reports, nights where sleep just didn’t come. Death. 

Today's supposed to help them find some closure, but it's obvious a lot of them aren't there yet.

Steve stands at Wanda's door, fist raised. He hesitates, almost knocking a few times, but eventually just taps softly with his knuckle on the wooden panel. “Wanda?” he asks, trying to sound as normal as possible.

Nothing.

She hasn't been seen since the first night they arrived at the other base, where Wanda went straight to the room she was assigned to. The only clue that she's still managing is that Vision leaves food outside her door every day, and when he returns later in the day, most of it remains untouched, but he can tell Wanda has taken at least a bite or two. 

It’s far from the ideal diet of an Avenger, which leaves Wanda being indisposed in the meantime; though the rest of the team was successful in neutralizing and the people who masterminded the attack on the compound two weeks ago. 

Out of concern for how she might react, especially given how deeply your loss affected her, the team has kept this news from Wanda. They want to ensure the prisoners are safely relocated to a hard-to-track location before she learns of it. There's a shared apprehension that if Wanda discovers this prematurely, she might take matters into her own hands.

Steve senses that Wanda might already be aware, and her chilling silence may not just be due to grief. Part of it could stem from her resentment towards the team for withholding the information, preventing her from seeking the second thing she desires most after having you back—revenge.

(What Wanda yearns for the most is your return, but that's a reality no longer possible in this universe.)

Despite this, Steve pushes on, “The ceremony's about to start. Everyone's waiting. We don’t want to start without you. They were important to all of us, but I get that they were even more to you.”

The stillness from the other side of the door is almost suffocating.

Steve’s voice becomes impossibly softer as he tries again, “Wanda, I can't imagine how you feel right now. But we're here for you. We're family, remember?”

Steve strains his ears, hoping to catch the faintest whisper from Wanda, but the only sound that meets him is the steady hum of the central air conditioning. Time drags on awkwardly, and just when Steve is about to leave, a faint, broken voice emerges from the room. 

“They're gone, Steve.”

Swallowing hard, Steve nods, voice thick. “I know, Wanda. I know.”

He does know. Perhaps more than anyone on the team, save for Natasha. He's experienced profound losses throughout his life: his best friend, the woman he loved, even time and an entire era.

He wants to impart all of these to Wanda, but he’s afraid of invalidating the pain that Wanda’s feeling right now. 

And so, a brief, quiet moment passes between them before Steve rejoins the others.

-

The scene is chaos—the aftermath of unimaginable power unchecked.

Dust fills the air, and broken debris is scattered everywhere. The once-familiar corridors of the team's quarters are now unrecognizable. Everything is obliterated. The structure has been reduced to fine dust, making it impossible to discern that the remnants were once beds or lamps. Not even sound escaped her wrath.

The others soon rush in, Steve, Natasha, and Sam at the forefront. The sight that greets them is unlike anything they’ve ever seen before. Everything is utterly pulverized, and at the epicenter is Wanda, holding your limp body close to her.

For a moment, the scene before them leaves them at a loss for words, until Steve's gaze locks onto you, covered in blood with your arms hanging lifelessly. Steve radios the others, quickly outlining the situation. He struggles to describe it without revealing the full extent of Wanda’s powers, of which they were previously unaware.

Sam surveys the area for potential threats. “All clear!” he announces, not realizing the hidden danger masked by the visage of a mourning ally. Steve, however, spots it immediately from a distance.

The situation isn't volatile due to enemies nearby.

It's volatile because of Wanda.

“Wanda, what happened?” Natasha ventures, attempting to cut through the escalating tension. Yet Wanda's eyes stay locked on you, murmuring unintelligibly under her breath.

“Wanda!” Natasha's voice sharpens with alarm. “Snap out of it!”

But Wanda refuses to budge, ensnared in her own maelstrom of anguish and remorse. As her hands begin to glow with a familiar red hue, she whispers, her lips curling in a crazed half-smile, “I can save you.” 

Recognizing the imminent danger of Wanda's erratic powers, Natasha lunges forward to intervene. “Wanda, no!”

Her plea is met with an almost tangible wave of force. The sheer power from Wanda's emotions sends Natasha hurtling backwards, taking her off her feet. Recognizing both the immediate peril and a fleeting chance, Steve reacts without hesitation. He gathers you into his arms, holding you close to shield you, and makes a break for the Quinjet's safety.

Sam, after a momentary stagger, hurries over to Natasha's side. He extends a hand, helping her to rise. Together, they turn their attention back to Wanda, eyes fixed as they witness the raw display of her struggle, the internal battle to regain control over her formidable powers. Eventually, as if a storm subsides, Wanda's energy recedes. She collapses, emotionally and physically spent. Her eyes glisten with tears that soon spill over. 

“I—I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry…” Wanda stammers, bringing a hand to her mouth in horror at her actions.

Natasha cautiously approaches, ignoring the lingering pain from her fall. She carefully wraps an arm around Wanda, offering what comfort she can. “It’s okay,” she whispers, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

Sam surveys the scene, taking in the devastation and recognizing that not all of it was the enemy's handiwork. “We can't stay here,” he warns urgently. “We'll have company soon, and not the kind we want.”

Emerging from the Quinjet, Steve's motions for them to hurry. “Let’s go. Y/N needs help. Now.”

Natasha quickly takes in Wanda's dazed state and knows she needs to act. “Come on, we need to move,” she says, gently guiding her friend by the arm toward the jet.

As they get closer, Natasha throws a glance over her shoulder at Sam. “You coming?”

He hesitates, scanning the area. “I'm staying. Someone's got to help out here.”

She looks like she wants to argue, but with everything going on, she just nods, helping Wanda up the ramp. As the jet's engines ignite and they ascend, Sam's focus shifts back to the ground, the sheer magnitude of Wanda's episode hitting him. A distance away, he spots a few incinerated bodies, possibly caught in the sphere of Wanda’s wrath. Walking cautiously among the fallen, a chilling realization dawns on him: he can't tell who was with them and who was against. Allies and enemies, all indistinguishably mixed in the wake of Wanda's powers.

He feels a knot in his stomach. “Oh, Wanda,” he murmurs to himself, “what happened here?”

-

Though the clear skies suggest fair weather, the ceremony feels grim, leaving behind an eerie atmosphere that steadfastly clings to the hallways and corners you once roamed. All attendees are dressed in their finest black attire, but the pristine garments can't hide the profound sadness of the occasion.

Everyone is present except for a seat in the first row. Every now and then, Steve's eyes would drift toward the entrance, half-hoping, half-dreading that Wanda might walk in. The funeral begins with a brief sermon from a priest, despite no one being certain of your religious beliefs. Yet, it's protocol. It has always been the manner in which they bid farewell to a comrade, so everyone quietly follows suit.

Each of the Avengers, save for Wanda, takes a turn at the podium, sharing humorous and touching stories about you. They all wear the same regret and guilt on their faces, wishing they could have done more, could have treated you better, could have gotten to know you more. The eulogies are largely light in tone, and it's unclear whether it's because they wish to remember you fondly or if their bond with you was merely superficial and insincere.

Except for Daisy, the last person to speak, who seems to be taking it particularly hard. She gets choked up talking about how you took her under your wing, always sharing what you knew and helping her train. And when she needed a place to sleep, you gave her your own bed. She returns to her seat, tears silently streaming, and there's a brief, uneasy moment when no one steps in to comfort her.

They all glance around, seeking out Wanda. Their eyes eventually land on Steve, who simply responds with a solemn shake of his head. 

The entire ceremony lasts just under an hour. As the last notes of the eulogy fade and people start to head out, everyone gradually returns to their routine. For many, it's the last time they'll reflect or speak about you.

That same night, as Steve is about to wind down in his office, lost in thought, Vision phases through the wall. There's a resigned expression on Vision's face, momentarily making Steve forget that he isn't human. Reflecting later, Steve appreciates how Vision's virtue and outlook are more human-like than many individuals he's encountered throughout his life.

“Captain Rogers,” he starts, “Wanda has…chosen to sequester herself in Y/N's former cell.”

Steve looks up sharply, a crease forming on his brow. “Why would she do that?” 

He had anticipated something like this might occur, but he's baffled as to why Wanda would choose your old cell over your bedroom, where all your belongings still remain.

“I can't say I fully grasp the intricacies of the human heart, but maybe she's looking for a connection or a spot to grieve. Y/N’s room, with all its memories, might just be too overwhelming for her,” Vision offers, seemingly reading Steve's thoughts.

Hearing this, Steve glances at the approval document he must sign, allowing the compound's admin office to begin clearing out your bedroom. He's been putting off signing it, thinking Wanda might need more time with your belongings around. But now he wonders if erasing traces of you might help her come to terms with the loss.

Steve considers Vision’s words for a moment before nodding slowly. “Thanks, Vision. I'll go see her.”

-

Wanda is glued to your side, her fingers so tightly interwoven with yours that it's hard to tell where one hand ends and the other begins. Every now and then, she gently squeezes, perhaps hoping to feel a reassuring squeeze back. Her face is contorted, every line etched deep with raw pain, her eyes wet and reddened from endless tears. She looks at your hand, pale and devoid of its usual warmth, resting lifelessly in her grip.

But it's the faint, almost timid pulsation under her touch that keeps her from completely breaking down. Each breath you take is slow and labored, barely noticeable. But the quiet beep of the monitors serves as a constant reminder that there's still life within you. From time to time, she leans in, pressing her ear close to your chest, cherishing the gentle thud of your heartbeat, willing you to hold on just a little longer.

A while later, a group of nurses and doctors rush in, ready to prep you for surgery. Their hands move with purpose, reaching for various instruments and adjusting the array of machines beside your bed. That’s when, as if propelled by an invisible force, equipment flies off tables, and a few of the medical staff are pushed back against the walls. A nurse, caught off-guard, drops a syringe, its contents spilling onto the pristine floor. 

Natasha, having been alerted by the commotion, slips into the room, swiftly placing herself between Wanda and the medical staff.

“Wanda,” she implores cautiously, her eyes seeking the sorceress's, “let them do their job. He needs them.”

For a moment, it seems like she might snap, but then her gaze drops to the floor, tears spilling. As soon as they feel it’s safe, the medical staff decide that they need to move you immediately. The wheels of your bed squeak in protest as they begin to shift it out of the room.

Wanda's grip tightens on your hand, her knuckles white. She tries to follow, as if an invisible cord binds her to you. She mutters, almost inaudibly, “I won't leave them.”

One of the nurses, recognizing the precarious situation and the potential for Wanda's powers to erupt again, glances around hesitantly. They're all clearly apprehensive about telling Wanda she can't accompany you. It’s just in time that Steve finally arrives, quickly taking in the scene before him.

“Kid, it’s okay,” he murmurs quietly.

She turns to him, her eyes a storm of emotion, as she pleads, “No, it’s not. I need to be with them.”

“It’s not,” he confirms, offering her a sympathetic look. “But right now, they need to do their job. We have to trust them.”

But her grip on your hand doesn't loosen.

With a deep breath, Steve gently pries her fingers away from yours. It's a slow, agonizing process, each finger unlocking a fresh wave of sobs from Wanda. She resists, but Steve’s reassuring grip gives her no choice. Finally, as your hand slips away from hers, the reality of the situation hits anew.

As the medical team wheels you out of the room, Wanda collapses into Steve's arms, her cries a haunting sound in the tenebrous hallways of the hospital.

The long hours of surgery find Wanda staring into the void, her eyes wavering yet alert, even as exhaustion begins to bear down on her. A few feet away, a wall clock ticks on, displaying the agonizingly slow passage of time. She's acutely aware of each second, each minute, as they stretch into what feels like eons. Occasionally, her fingers would twitch, itching to do something, anything, to change the course of events. But they remain clenched in her lap, her knuckles white from the pressure.

Wanda isn't accustomed to the drawn-out dread of potentially losing someone. Her parents were taken away in an instant. Pietro saved Clint in a split-second, paying with his life. So, when the surgeon finally emerges, the expression on his face already giving away the news, Wanda can't stand it. She bolts.

Outside, the cold night air hits her, but she hardly feels it. Her feet carry her to a secluded spot in the hospital's garden, where the shadows from the trees envelope her. She sinks to the ground, her hands digging into the grass, seeking some form of grounding.

The rest of the team, still in the waiting room, exchange worried glances. Steve takes a step forward, as if to follow, but Natasha places a gentle hand on his arm.

“She needs a minute,” Natasha says quietly.

While they give Wanda time to process, the surgeon starts explaining the details, the clinical terms merging with the reality of what happened. The Avengers might face world-ending threats on a daily basis, but this personal loss, this kind of pain, hits different.

Little do they know that in the distance, Wanda's grief is causing ripples that are about to change everything.

-

Making his way through the maze of hallways, Steve's steps slow as he approaches the familiar penitentiary. He nears the familiar cell door, taking a moment to brace himself before nudging it open just slightly.

Inside, the room is dim, with just a small lamp fighting off the darkness. It's chilly, the sort of cold that seems to seep into your bones. There, on the simple bed, is Wanda, curled up and looking so small and vulnerable. Pushing the door open just a touch more, Steve walks in silently and sits beside Wanda. He doesn't say anything, instead he allows Wanda to acclimatize to his presence, to give her space and time to figure out that she’s not alone in this, never was.

After what seems like an eternity, Wanda, without looking at Steve, simply murmurs, “It's cold here.”

Steve just nods, at a loss for words. He takes off his jacket, trying to wrap it around her shoulders for comfort. But Wanda pushes it away, letting it drop to the ground. Steve clenches his jaw, recognizing that right now, reasoning with Wanda might be impossible.

Several beats pass before Wanda finally speaks up. “It should have been me,” she says, her voice as steely as the temperature of the room. “I should be the one in that grave.”

“Don't say that,” Steve insists, carefully placing a hand on her tense shoulder. “You couldn't have known.”

Wanda's eyes blaze with anger and sorrow. “I allowed it, Steve. I allowed Y/N to help me, to heal me. I let them drain their life to give to me.” Her voice wavers, and she trembles visibly. Steve can feel warmth where he's holding her but trusts that she won't lose control. “If Y/N hadn't found me, I'd be as good as dead. But now... they're gone, and I'm here.”

“Wanda, look at me,” he mutters, placing another hand on her other shoulder and twisting her gently so she can properly face him. His blue eyes seek out hers but she refuses to meet his gaze, eyes transfixed on the floor, lost and empty. “We make choices everyday. Choices that we think are for the best. You couldn't have predicted this outcome. None of us could.”

She angles her head, strands of hair partially covering her face, but one eye peeks through with a dangerous glint. “I let them step into danger, more than once. So try and tell me it's not on me.”

Steve, visibly unsettled, takes a ragged breath. “Wanda, I know it’s hard to understand now, to accept that what happened to Y/N is beyond your control. But we're all here for you, and if you need—”

“I don't want or need your help, Steve,” she retorts with an icy edge. “What I need is to be alone.”

Seeing the resolute, almost manic determination in her eyes, Steve hesitates before nodding slowly. “Alright,” he says.

“But remember this, Wanda,” Steve says, pausing at the threshold of the cell, a deep sadness in his eyes. “Y/N wouldn't want you to be alone, especially not like this.”

Wanda's lips twitch into a bitter smile. “What Y/N wanted doesn't matter now, does it? They're gone.”

Steve doesn't say anything else. He gives Wanda a long look, then walks out.

-

The pain is worse when she dreams.

In one of them, she relives a reality from before. She's transported back to a familiar morning. She remembers waking up in your room, the warmth of the sheets reminding her of the night before. Trying to push away her burgeoning feelings for you, she recalls inviting a stranger into her room, sharing some wine. But as he got closer, she pushed him away, realizing he wasn't what she truly wanted.

In her dream, she does things differently. Instead of slipping away like she did in reality, she lingers. She takes the time to study every detail of your face as you sleep—the freckles on your nose, the subtle movement of your lips as you mumble incoherent dreams, the occasional twitch of your eyelids. She gives in to an urge she had suppressed for the longest time, wrapping her arms around your waist, drawing you close. 

After what feels like hours, you stir. When you open your eyes, there's a brief moment of surprise before your lips curve into a soft, genuine smile, happy to see she's still there. Your fingers reach up, gently caressing her cheek. She leans into it, eyes closing for a moment as she takes in the sensation. “You stayed,” you murmur, your voice soft and filled with wonder.

Just as she's on the verge of promising to always stay by your side, Wanda jolts awake. Her smile fades the instant she grasps that it was all an illusion, a fleeting could-have-been.

The knife in her chest buries itself a little deeper after that. It does so again the following morning when she dreams of another memory, and in every version, she doesn't turn away from you.

- 

One day, a woman approaches Wanda, offering to help her uncover the secret to inhabiting her dreams.

“Not merely dreams,” the woman clarifies, “but alternate realities.” Her name is Agatha, and she persuades Wanda that these realities are rightfully hers, waiting for her to claim them. Desperate for a way to be with you again, even if it's in another reality, Wanda listens intently.

“Each reality is like a page in a book. Some might be nearly identical to yours, with just a slight deviation. Others could be drastically different. The key is knowing how to navigate and control them,” Agatha explains.

"How?" Wanda questions, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket, walking alongside Agatha on a nondescript street in Westview, New Jersey. She'd made her way there upon discovering you'd purchased property, curious to envision the life you'd planned for yourself, had you lived.

“It's not as simple as snapping one's fingers,” Agatha says. “But with the right guidance and knowledge, you can access these realities, live in them, even mold them to your desires.”

Wanda hesitates, sensing the potential dangers of meddling with the fabric of existence. “What's the price?” she asks. 

Agatha doesn't look too pleased with Wanda's display of intelligence and her knack for spotting the early signs of manipulation. But she gets the feeling that Wanda might not care if she's being used, as long as she gets what she wants out of it.

“Every powerful spell comes with its costs,” Agatha replies cryptically. “But isn't a chance to be with Y/N, to have a life where grief doesn't consume you, worth any price?”

Living day to day, clutching onto moments of happiness in her dreams, only to be jerked back into a reality she can't stand—it's wearing on Wanda. The dreams are great, sure, but they're just that—dreams. And when they're over, it's back to the harsh light of day, and the reality that you’re gone. She's stuck in this loop, bouncing between what she wishes her life could be and the real world that just won't let her catch a break. Every dream feels like a tease, a brief escape before she's pulled back into the grind.

“So? I don’t have all day, dear.” Agatha's tone is dripping with impatience, her sharp eyes fixed on Wanda.

Wanda swallows hard, her gaze darting around the empty street, as if cautious to anyone who might be eavesdropping on the conversation, before settling back on the older witch. “What do you want in return?”

A slow, sly smile spreads across Agatha's face, making the air around her grow even colder. She takes a deliberate step closer to Wanda, their faces now mere inches apart. “You’re a sly witch than I made you out to be, aren’t you?”

Wanda holds her ground. “I need to know.”

Agatha chuckles softly, her breath caressing Wanda's face. “We'll get to that,” she purrs, drawing the moment out just to relish Wanda's discomfort. She then leans in even closer, her voice dropping to a hushed, almost seductive whisper. “First, let's talk about how we can make your dreams come true.”

Wanda hesitates, torn between the desperation of her desires and the voice in her head urging her to decline the offer, to grieve and move forward like anyone else would.

To forget you.

“And why would I trust you?” Wanda counters instead, buying herself more time.

Agatha straightens up, her smile unwavering as she finally takes a step back. “Oh, darling, you shouldn’t. But sometimes, our wants make strange bedfellows. And right now, I'm the best chance you've got.”

-

Wanda's footsteps are hesitant as she approaches the rubble-strewn site, each broken brick and twisted piece of metal echoing memories of that fateful day. The boundaries between realities have always been thin for Wanda, a mere whisper away. And on the 436th day since your sacrifice, she finally musters the courage to cross them.

Witnessing it all from this vantage point—that of an observer—feels utterly surreal.

She remembers the pain, the slow dimming of consciousness, and the sensation of life slipping away. But in this reality, it was her other self who had been impaled, left to bleed out beneath the rubble. And you, who she loved dearly in every universe, had been spared.

Or at least, that’s how she intends it to happen for this reality.

Wanda's fingers twitch, and with a fierce concentration of her magic, she lifts the heavy boulder trapping her other self. A bright crimson glow surrounds it as it's lifted and tossed aside, revealing the horrific sight beneath.

The other Wanda is a haunting reflection of what she might have been, pale with trails of blood smeared across her lips. The fabric of her clothes is stained with the vivid red of her own blood, which pools around her. It's a sight that should send a wave of nausea through Wanda, but truthfully she feels nothing.

Gently, Wanda cradles the injured version of herself, her hands shaking as they brush away the dirt and blood from the other's face. She can't stop herself from checking for a pulse, even though ironically, she’s there to make sure it stops beating.

“Hey,” she murmurs, patting the alternate Wanda's cheek softly, urging her to focus. “Look at me.”

Slowly, those familiar eyes flutter open, clouded with pain. The shock and fear in them are palpable when they take in the sight of her savior—especially the distinct headpiece that marked her transformation into the Scarlet Witch.

“Who... are you?”

“I'm you,” Wanda says, and without waiting for a reply, sparing her other self the pain of speaking, she continues, “Y/N sacrificed so much for you. For us. They became our greatest pain, and our love. And they will be here any minute now.”

“W-What are you talking about—”

“They will be here to save you and make themselves vulnerable in the process. And they will die,” Wanda's breath hitches at that, causing her to pause momentarily. “You don’t want that, do you?”

Her fading counterpart shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.

“Good,” Wanda says, offering a comforting smile. “Then let go, and I’ll take care of Y/N. Okay?”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turns the body in her embrace into red wisps that dance around her in the air. 

Then, aware that it'll only be moments before you reach the scene, Wanda morphs into the likeness of her younger self. She looks just like the other version, but without any injuries that might spur you into action.

“Wanda!” she hears your voice from a distance and her eyes water at the sound.

She's done the unimaginable, claiming the identity of this universe's Wanda, seconds after she erased her very existence. She takes deep, shaky breaths, trying to get into character. She needs you to believe it’s her, even though she’s forgotten herself how she used to be.

Your steps quicken, shoes crunching on rubble, until you're right in front of her, surveying her from head to toe, searching for any signs of injury. “Wanda...how?” Your eyes are wide, filled with disbelief and relief. “I thought I'd lost you.”

“I managed to shield myself just in time when—” She doesn’t get to finish her practiced response when you pull her into a tight embrace, and she leans into it, her body shaking with genuine sobs. Her face buries into the crook of your neck, feeling the warmth and familiarity of your smell and touch. It's a grounding sensation amidst the madness she has just endured and inflicted.

“It's okay,” you murmur, your voice trembling. “You're here now, and that's all that matters.” You can feel the dampness on your shirt where her tears have soaked through, and you tighten your grip around her.

“We need to get out of here,” you say, casting a glance around the ruins. “Let's find safety first, then we'll figure everything out.”

She nods, taking a deep breath to steady herself, wiping away her tears. “I'm sorry,” Wanda says, her voice catching in her throat.

“For what?” you ask, confused.

“For making you worry,” she says, avoiding your eyes. The guilt she feels is so much deeper than what you perceive, but now isn’t the time to delve into it. 

She only recalls the next moments when the bullets are headed your way minutes later. But this time, they don't touch you. Wanda swiftly neutralizes the assailants, and you stare, a mix of shock and awe at the display of her powers that appear to have been amplified overnight.

You blink, trying to process what you just saw. “Wanda, what was that? I've never seen you...”

“We need to move. Now,” Wanda interrupts, a hint of panic in her voice. She grabs your hand, tugging you forward roughly.

You resist for a moment, glancing around. "Don't we need to wait for the others?"

She glances back at the devastation she caused, her face drawn. "There’s no time. They're not coming.”

“But—”

“Please," she pleads, her eyes darting to the oncoming imaginary threats in the distance. “We'll figure it out once we're safe.”

It’s your weakness, your inability to say no to her, that makes you yield to her wishes. With one last uneasy look around, you let Wanda pull you away, but a slew of questions bubble up in your mind, waiting for a safer moment to be asked.

Wanda leads you somewhere faraway. 

In time, you cease to question her actions.

Gradually, the dreams stop haunting her nights.

But she finds herself unable to stop hunting for them every now and then.

[funficwriter]

A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Letters' Interlude - 1

A/N: So these aren't official chapters per say, just an extra to the story that explores the yandere dynamic I'm trying to put forth! Also, I love listening to romantic music while writing for this 🩵 Until I finish Chapter 2, enjoy!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings: Obsessive yandere language, graphic details in Wriothesley's.

Tag: @yue-caelum

From: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

Dearest Duke,

I am not quite sure how to begin or structure my thoughts, so I hope you forgive me if this letter turns out messy. It's barely been 24 hours since our fateful meeting and I finally got some privacy. I should interest you in the fact that today's tea is Earl Grey. I'm having it right now, accompanied by a chocolate and strawberry mille-feuille. If you're ever feeling bold, I'd recommend this combination. Quite the contrast on the taste buds.

I realized that even with our cadence and how we enjoyed chatting together, there's still so much to know. How have you been doing? I'm presuming you're at the Fortress. How is life there? How do you spend your days there? Is it a lot of work? You told me a bit of the nurse. Sigewinne, if I recall correctly. Does she have a lot of patients? And what tea do you drink when you're feeling so tired and done with the world? (I'm partly asking this one for myself. Some days are like that.).

Though I must say, since Liffey is a bit far from Romaritime or the Court's region, you must have a good teleportation waypoint. Belleau is far, too, but by Focalors' name it is enjoyable. It's quiet, lush and lovely. The water is so nice to swim in too. I find that regular swimming is one of the most beautiful parts of my day. I might be heading into more dangerous territory saying this, but I believe you'd enjoy it a lot if I took you with me. If you had a day off and I showed you around, we could then swim in one of the lakes. It's so refreshing and fun, and a good break from the city.

Don't get me wrong; I love its bustle and life. But I know when we return, I'm going to have to look over these boring nobles' declarations, and meet with them more often. Speaking of which, I'm sorry to sound so forward, but... Well, are you interested in carrying this further?

I'd like to tell you something about my worldview. As you know, I read a lot, but last night I couldn't get into the 'why' due to mother's timing. As a child, I felt strangely bored with existence, maybe to a worrying point. That would explain my parents' fretting. I liked the dance and violin lessons, but there was something about my books that gave my gray life a bit of color. Unfortunately, having to come back to real life was a painful must. There were times where I thought to myself: "Is this really life? Boring, plain, and feeling wrong for watching everyone's intense reactions while I derived joy from so few things?". I didn't even want to think about my future as I become a woman. This was all before we met.

Ah, Wriothesley! I've been imagining it over and over in my head! I even stood outside in the cold and closed my eyes and pretended you were right next to me... Imagine my pain when I confronted reality, mixed with the excitement I felt remembering you! Even now, I can't stop kicking my feet as I write this. For the very first time, I was proven wrong. I was mistaken about life, and who said mistakes were bad? After years of chasing perfection, believing it was beauty and goodness... Why, I might have committed the most beautiful fault in existence!

Will you please prove me wrong again? I know I might get greedy and stick to my old worldview, just for it to happen again. But I swear, I'll be good and I'll stop. I just want to feel my entire body and soul rattling in excitement once more. And you're the only one that happens with.

Mother and Father are planning another social, soon after we return to the Court's region. My understanding says you're not often social, so if you don't want any part of it (or even, if I'm being too intense), discard this letter. I must go now, but if you're as invested as I, I will be awaiting a response. And if Celestia is kind, I will be open for more. I'll be open for anything if it's with you.

Yours truly,

Lady Y/N Balthazar

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

From: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

To: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To my cherished Lady,

I would like to start off by expressing my most feverish thanks, for reasons beyond enumeration. You taking the time to send me this lovely letter is the least of them. It is generally good form for a Duke to answer quick when he can, but I was so overjoyed with your letter's contents, I re-read it many times to take in all the joy you graced me with. I was also very touched with your personal confiance in me, so I'm also writing to return the favor.

First off, do you know how much I yearn to hear about your day, down to the little details? You talked a good deal about Belleau. I didn't care much about that region before, but now? All I've been thinking about is those fresh waters and woods you praised so highly. The only imagination I entertained was you, holding my hand, whispering that there were no nosy gossipers or greedy parents. Just the two of us, and the lake was all ours to swim in until we couldn't.

If it makes you laugh, I thought about it so much, I almost mistakenly wrote some prisoners' region tab as Belleau. Had Sigewinne not been near, the administrative mistake would have been a pain to fix. Are you laughing? I hope for it with all my heart.

And I want to know more. I want to know whether Earl Grey is your favorite, or you're only taking it because it's been brewed at that time. I want to know which chocolate you like best. Which books you're currently reading, and why you're so interested in lycanthropes without a hint of discrimination. Will you tell me more? If we get the chance to talk with less barriers, will you enlighten me with you?

After getting to know your old worldview, I question just how alike we are. It's easy for two people to share superficial interests. But when one feels so dissected, so naked knowing about another's deeper life and secrets, you can't help but question whether Celestia really does link souls. Whether you once knew them, or whether fate can be so perfect to send such a person your way. I'm sure you felt terrified writing it. Your mailbox may be private, but who knows when your family feels nosy and reads it? You know of the risks that come with such correspondence, especially as a maiden. Despite that, you didn't throw it into the trash. You wrote it, and sent it to me, letting me know about you. You may have just intoxicated me, and now I feel like I might die if that is all I know of you.

As respect to this, I'll confide in you, only it may be a little graphic. "If you feel queasy after this, feel free to end our correspondence here."... Is what I wish I could say with full honesty, because after that night, I'm not sure whether I can really be okay with that outcome.

I used to commit crime, both petty and serious. Such was the life of an orphan at the time. Being little fish wasn't an option; You had to be the top dog or get eaten alive. I opted for the first, even if it landed me in prison later on. My convictions range quite a bit, but once I grew up, I renounced crime. Even insignificant things. I wanted to leave that behind me.

Forget the obvious stealing sweets from the kitchen. When I saw that slimy Duke Arya talking to you, touching your shoulder, acting as if he always knew you and your wedding was tomorrow, I never felt the urge to murder as much as I did that night. The reasons behind my old violent crimes felt so small next to the ugly sight in front of me. You clearly didn't want him, but he kept going, as if you'd magically change your mind and be into slimeheads like him. How dare he be the reason you were pulled apart from me? Where does he get the gall to take you, act like you're owed to him if your parents decided?

How I wanted to end his pathetic standing, laughing, breathing. How I wanted to use my vision and punch his head out into an ice block, then freezing his wrangling body so he wouldn't mess up the carpet. How I wanted to lunge at him, bite, claw and make a bloody mess out of him. What did it matter if I perpetuated half-wolf stereotypes, when he was doing this? Which would hurt him more? Only one idea stopped me: You might not react to a show of violence so well. Oh, if I traumatized you, I'd never forgive myself. Being sent back to jail would be too light a punishment for a beast like that.

Please don't worry about transport, or ask about my attendance. I'm determined to attend that social. I'm so happy you told me about this in advance; I'm going to be seeing you, in all your radiance and beauty that make the world pale. So long as that happens, all is well for now. In the meantime, I'm adding some final touches to my declaration, and eagerly waiting for our next meeting, and hopefully the time I can freely take you into my arms, kiss you and prove the both of us wrong about everything.

With all the love I can hold,

Duke Wriothesley

[bamnamuu]

Birthday Surprise Sim Jake

w.count 548 | warnings slight cursing, bad writing, typos not fully proof read | requested @ghostiiess | em’s note this has been in my drafts for some time but now it’s JAKE DAY!!!!! i hope you enjoy it 🤩

Your relationship with Jake is special, to say it’s unlike all the other ones you’ve been in is an understatement. For starters Jake is an idol that many people fawn over, which makes you happy that so many people love him, obviously not more than you. Being an idol Jake has to be careful with you, having to keep your relationship private to make sure you're safe, however you wouldn't change anything.  Jake has been busy preparing for Enhypen's comeback and you haven’t had much time to see each other which is normal but this time it’s different because Jake's birthday is coming up and you’re upset that you might not see him, until an idea pops into your head! while waiting around the green room for the boys to finish their performance you caught up with some of the staff who have become more like your friends than people who work for your boyfriend, and one of them said “you should join us and you’ll see him everyday!” Obviously she was joking, but the thought of being with Jake while he does whatever makes you say “that’s a great idea!” “y/n no i was kidding!” After telling everyone your genius plan that insisted on you pretending to be a staff member watching in on Jake's live and then when he’s done you would surprise him, they agreed and it’s a good thing you’re so close with their staff that they are letting you do this.

 So there you were sitting in your disguise of one of Jake’s hoodies and a face mask waiting for Jake to come in, scrolling on your phone you start to hear the door start to open and your boyfriend walks in. you get up trying not to look him in the eye just in case he might recognise you immediately, and to which you fail miserably because the minute that you lock eyes he starts to realise that it’s you, “holy shit!” he said smiling like a puppy. “what?” you replied back putting on a deeper voice which only caused him to laugh “how did you …. did you sneak into the building?” he said “nope i work here” you can’t help but start giggling at yourself as you see Jake make his way to you. Once he is, he brings his hands up to pull off your mask and hood off “surprise!” you say beaming up at him, “hi love!’’ he said wrapping his arms around you ‘’happy birthday baby’’ you said quietly, ‘’OH i have something for you!’’ you said remembering his present, which only caused you to startle your boyfriend with the volume change, detaching yourself from him you walk over to your bag and take out his neatly wrapped present. ‘’What no, I don't need anything else, you're the best present’’ Jake argued. ‘’you have to take it, i cant return it, oh shit.’’ you said causing Jake to worry ‘’y/n i was kidding i’ll take your present i'll even open it up right now!’’ Jake said while taking off the ribbon bow you put on his gift, he only stops when he hears you start to laugh ‘’what?’’ he said, looking at you. ‘’you have to do your live, remember!’’ ‘’oh yeah.’’ he giggled, putting down his present. 

tag list (open) @smouches @rayoraish

[hualian-fic-recs]

I'm alive/Fanfic Asks

Hey sorry I've been silent for so long. To be completely honest, Hualian and tgcf aren't the only types of fanfic I read, so I go down rabbit holes with other pairings for a while.

Anyway, I've been sitting on some asks for a while hoping I could answer them one day, but alas. I am turning them over to the public to see if others can help!

@nostalgiatyrant asks:

Hi again 👋 Im looking for another fic, but this time, the description comes from a friend. They said that “after the altar scene wu ming takes care of xie lian as he heals. Xie lian is like traumatized and dazed mostly so wu ming is doing his best commanding weaker ghosts and etc” It was a tweet, in case you haven’t seen it, and tbh, I love this idea so much— if you find any fics like it at all Id love to read them

Maybe: For you, I'll become invincible by HanaSheralHaminail. 177k, M, WIP. all the spoilers

Maybe: no light, no light by NeithOfTheVeil. 11k, T, spoilers

Maybe: A Long and Slow Recovery by ardenrabbit. WIP

@sineofu asks:

Hello , can you recommend m some fics where the heavenly official realise that hua Cheng have returned or a fic timed after his return. Thank you

anonymous asks:

Is there any fanfics where like the puqi villagers think that they are single and something happens?

anonymous asks:

Can u tell me if there is any hualian Spiderman au fics?? I saw a few fanarts and fell in love with them.

@uwuchengsbab asks:

Do you know any fics where Hua Cheng prays to Xie Lian before his 3rd ascension (during those 800 years) and Xie Lian hears him? Something angsty with a happy ending? I’ve already read what faith provides by parsnipit and it kinda sounds like falling in love by FlowerCitti but was wondering if you knew more?

Maybe: Dearly Departed by IlluminatingSceadugenga. WIP

@bri-bri1222 asks:

I was wondering if there are any fice where HC and XL are in a DDLB relationship and just filled with cuteness and fluff.

anonymous asks:

There's this Hualian fanfic I've never been able to find no matter what. I don't know if the tags are obscure or what. But the premise is that Xie Lian is cursed or to relive his worst injury over and over again at random moments and therefore the Hundred Swords wounds opens on his body unexpectedly and suddenly. The story is very hurt/comfort between Hualian and Hua Chrng looks after him and heals him. A plot point is that it happens in front of Mu Qing/Feng Xin at a temple and they discover the truth about what happened and take Xie Lian to Hua Cheng. I beleve it's multi-chapter. Ling Wen and Jun Wu also make appearances.

Maybe: Old Wounds and Old Friends by HoundsofCerberus. 4k, T, all the spoilers

Similar: A Splinter in the Heart by theearlymorningmist. 14k, T, spoilers

@theladypeartree asks:

Hello!! This might be a tricky one as I'm not sure it exists! Have you or any of your followers found any fics that have A-Yuan and Guzi friendship? I've found many crossovers, but not with the kiddos! Thank you for your hard work! ❤

anonymous asks:

Big spoilers for the later novels in this one: Hey there, I was wondering if there was any fics in which Xie Lian goes through with calling down the human face plague on Yong'an. I can't recall finding any and I'm not sure how to start looking. Thanks!

he who walks in sorrow by atomic muffin. 7k, M, read warnings!

Ok these are some I have been searching around for and haven't found much yet. If anyone has recs I would be grateful!

[fili-urzudel]

Dating Bofur Headcanons

This may be a bit unusual, but I'm inaugurating my blog with a Bofur post because he does not get anywhere near the love and appreciation he deserves. Also, I have a lot of headcanons for a lot of characters. I'm not running out for a while.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, inebriation

Word Count: 0.7k

- You first meet when the party has stopped in a town along the way near the beginning of their journey

- They're in the pub, making the worst sort of ruckus but at least their food and ale will make a pretty piece of coin for the barkeep

- He's... a little intoxicated when you get to know each other

- But that's really just because he's been (very obviously) staring at you since you walked in

- You think it's a bit strange that a dwarf is showing such obvious interest in you, but you'll go with it

- Unlike many other men who have shown interest, he keeps a respectful distance, no touching

- He's just attempting to flirt with you and flushing when you flirt back

- "You're quite funny," you giggle, oblivious to the way his companions stare at the interaction with confused awe. "Emil, some more pints for me and my friend here," you call to the bartender, settling a hand on his shoulder.

- You hardly even noticed that you brushed past the end of his braid

- When you look back at him, he seems to have temporarily frozen

- "You alright?"

- He gives you a tight grin and nods before laughing nervously. "Aye, just... may have had too many pints already," he excuses.

- "Ah, is there any such thing?" You joke.

- He chills out again pretty quickly (you know, with the central nervous system depression and all)

- As Thorin is rounding them all up to go find someplace to sleep, he decides he wants to leave you something to remember him by

- He pulls a mostly-finished whittled doll from some pocket in his coat, you weren't watching close enough to see exactly where it came from

- "Here," he says, nearly slurring, pressing the doll into your palm. "It's a gift for you."

- You raise your eyebrows with a smile, studying the doll from every angle. he was quite talented, actually

- "Thank you, Bofur," you say, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek

- Mans goes RED

- You think he stutters out a good evening before he's dragged off by Bombur and Bifur

- He tags along with Bilbo on his way back to the Shire

- When Gloin asks why, he has one simple answer

- "Well, my friend, I believe I made a long-term deposit of my own," Bofur replies, briefly removing his hat to smooth his hair.

- He knows, he knows it's a long shot

- You're a human and you might not even remember him

- But there's something about that night, the way you kissed his cheek, that he just can't shake

- And he wants to get as far away from the place where his king died as he can

- He just so happens to see you entering your house as he comes into town, your hair conveniently worn in just the same style as when you first met

- He wanders around for a few hours, not wanting to bother you when you've only just returned home or seem too eager

- When you open your door for whomever is knocking, you have to look down to realize that someone is actually there.

- "Good day, las--my lady," the strange dwarf says, hat pressed to his chest.

- "Good... day?" You greet. "I'm sorry, have I met you?"

- His face falls for a moment before he seems to have an idea

- He secures his hat back on his head, smiling up at you hopefully

- "Bofur!" You cry, surprised and delighted.

- "At your service, my lady," he bows briefly

- "Whatever are you doing here?"

- "I still have your figurine," you proclaim proudly, showing him in. "I hope you don't mind too terribly, but I made her some clothes..."

- You get to talking and, well, your town has always needed a toymaker

- So he sets up shop right next to your business; you're close enough to some mountains, at least

- You two become sort of local legend, in the "they're the strangest bunch we've had around for a long while" kind of way

- Not that either of you mind

- You love your eventual husband that's quite a bit shorter than you

[bestworstcase]

@sailorb00 tags here

#i was also on the fence about the EA siblings and Theodore being related by looks alone (#... and the alice + dorothy comparison#mostly chalked it up to coincidence but now that they're conf. to be from Vacuo it's looking less like coincidence fsdf#then is the girl on the desk photograph Alyx before she and Lewis found the EA?#And Theodore juat inherited it? He grew up on his great-great grandfather/uncle/who know's stories about the EA being real?#Maybe in hopes that one day his sister would return and be welcomed by family? even if they're generations apart#if Lewis's pseudonym is Theodore Im gonna lose it#I mean we dont know his or the EA siblings' surnames.#IS THAT WHY THEODORE DOESNT GO BY HIS SURNAME#BC OF THE FAMILY LEGACY???#ok imma go sit down now before i hurt myself w/ speculation fsdf

YEAH SAME on the being like Doubt.jpg about a relation between theodore and lewis on the basis of… skin color, basically, but the minute i heard “i couldn’t believe they were from vacuo,” that’s a deliberate choice to link these kids to the setting for the next major story arc, and that’s happening in conjunction with several developments in the 9.11 animatic that suggest history is about to become very important (soaring popular support for the crown—probable mountain glenn history-repeating-itself theme with salem razing vale—oscar mentioning vacuo’s history of colonization—plus the great war having ended with ozma’s use of the sword in vacuo).

it’s very. raises eyebrow. alrighty then!

so whatever lewis did after coming home, other than writing tgwfttw, probably has some narrative relevance—might be as small as something jaune needs to find closure, or it might be bigger than that, who knows, but if it was a hundred and fifty years ago and it matters enough to be in the story, then the story needs a vehicle to deliver this information in a manner that feels naturalistic and non-arbitrary. (jaune-stumbles-across-loved-one’s-memorial-statue-by-chance once is a believable happenstance; twice, a cheap contrivance.)

the simplest way to do that is to introduce a vacuan character with some connection to lewis, and the obvious choice there is a descendent, because lewis lived a long enough time ago that family lineage is kind of the only plausible reason for a living character in the present to have a meaningful personal connection to lewis.

(and it can’t be oz, because oz had no idea the ever after existed.)

this descendent-character also ideally should be prominent enough in the story to matter for reasons unrelated to their relation to lewis, to avoid feeling shoehorned in. and they are probably human, given the apparent rarity of interracial human/faunus couples.

that pretty much narrows it down to theodore, or the asturias twins. NOW hysterical as it would be for jax and gillian to be descended from lewis, finn asturias is obsessed with “the old stories about [his] family” and yet doesn’t drop even a single hint about the ever after, so i think we can rule that out.

which leaves theodore. hmm.

that picture in his office:

She still remembered that her attention had been drawn to one photo in particular: a black-and-white picture of a young girl in pigtails and a checkered dress with a small black dog. She hadn’t mustered the courage to ask who she was to Theodore. A daughter? A sister? Whoever she was, Velvet could see the resemblance.

plainly evokes dorothy, and even bearing in mind that there may be discrepancies (theodore is described as blue-eyed in the book but has brown eyes in beyond, for example)… there’s nothing in this photo to suggest a resemblance to alyx beyond ‘young girl.’ alyx doesn’t wear her hair in pigtails, nor does she have checkered patterns anywhere in her design, nor does she have a little black dog. so i doubt it’s her.

but black-and-white does suggest it’s old. ‘sister’ seems a lot more plausible than ‘daughter’ for that reason, and ‘mother or aunt’ even more likely than either of those.

(the other thing about a young girl with a small black dog in This story, is.

it’s a symbol for the deaths of the ozlem girls and the inescapable grief that underlies the whole conflict between ozma and salem—there’s a reason she sends a giant monstrous hound to capture oz and then huddles in the shadows miserably looking at conjured images of her daughters until oscar wakes up; the black dog reappears as this terrifying monster in conjunction with the surfacing of all this pain.

so the question is to what extent this small black dog in the photograph is Just Toto, and whether the specific narrative symbolism is or isn’t in play here; Did This Girl Die? that would preclude her being theodore’s mother but she could well be an aunt or great-aunt.)

of course the point of drawing attention to this photograph might be as simple as hinting at theodore’s quote-unquote real ozian allusion; not dorothy but the silver shoes lost in the desert. which is an interesting angle to consider with regard to this possibility of lewis being his ancestor, because on the one hand there’s the silver shoes carrying dorothy home yet becoming irretrievably lost themselves in doing so, and on the other there’s alyx, the white rabbit, guiding people home yet never able to return home herself. see the rhyme?

in a sense jaune and team rwby bring alyx home with them, in that they know what happened to her and if there are descendants of lewis still living in vacuo then the question of why she never came home can finally be answered. and if the descendent is theodore, then the intertextual confluence between him and alyx is more resonant than the surface dorothy-and-alice comparison; the silver shoes are the home the white rabbit returns to, as a memory, a hundred and fifty-odd years late. and it matters.

but also i have a little hamster wheel churning at all times in the back of my mind and right now it’s churning around: sixty, seventy years before the great war began, vacuo was a colonial territory of mistral—before the great war, it had no formal government, it wasn’t a state, and oscar references the history of colonization in the 9.11 animatic. so that history and the history of the great war—which was for vacuo a war for independence—is narratively salient. lewis was a child who grew up in vacuo during the fractious decades preceding the great war; he gives a face to this period in history.

and jaune told lewis and alyx not only that he was from remnant but that he was from more than a century in their future; he and lewis “compared notes on remnant.” jaune couldn’t believe they were from vacuo, “back before the war, before huntsmen.”

they compared notes.

jaune’s grandfather fought in the great war.

so lewis went back home to colonial vacuo fifty, sixty, seventy years before the great war knowing that the great war was going to happen. knowing that within his lifetime vacuo would fight for its independence and win. knowing that there would be peace in the end. according to what blake says in 9.2, in the book, alyx “didn’t know [afteran] customs and started a war between the townsfolk” and that takes on a really different subtext now that we know the story’s author was a man who grew up in colonial vacuo knowing that the great war was coming.

either lewis and alyx were vacuan, or they were mistrali but born in vacuo; either way the tenor of the girl who fell through the world suggests that lewis’ sympathies lay with vacuo. both options stand to be compelling if he acted upon this knowledge more directly than writing anti-colonial themes into his children’s book. or books. there is also the boy who fell from the sky, mentioned in after the fall, and alice’s adventures in wonderland does have a somewhat lesser-known sequel.

i doubt lewis fought in the great war himself—he was probably in his seventies or older by then—but if he had children they would have been of an age to fight for vacuo, and if lewis had passed down to them the stories he knew of what remnant would be like after…

y’see how lewis could have ended up playing a really important role in vacuo’s side of the great war, if he’d decided not to leave matters in the hands of fate? jaune told him about what the world would be like after the great war, but lewis also figured out that jaune knew more than he let on, figured out that jaune remembered a story lewis hadn’t written down yet. he knew that knowledge of the future could shape the future, because if it hadn’t been for jaune and jaune’s foreknowledge of his book, he might not have written it the way he did, as a guide for how to get out of the ever after.

so he goes home, knowing the great war will happen and what the outcome will be—or else knowing that it might happen that way. who did he become with that knowledge? what did he choose to do with what he knew? the one thing we know is he became a storyteller, and “storytellers have great power” is a prominent narrative theme.

salem inspired the world to rebel against the brothers by telling the story of what they had done to her, and speaking of her vision of a time when humanity could be free.

lewis…?

[firebloodanddragons]

The Midnight Relief - Part 4 (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) NSFW

Summary: Your relationship with Prince Aemond has changed, so much that you tend to forget not only who you are but who he truly is.

Tags: SMUT, Porn with Plot (sort of), Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Fingering, Squirting, Breeding kink, Dubious Consent, Targcest (Reader is Daemon Targaryen’s bastard), Angst and Fluff.

Author's note: I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. I have been very busy with work lately so I couldn't find time to focus on writing this story. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter nevertheless. Next chapter will probably be the last one. Tell me how you imagine the end of this fan fiction. And please do not hesitate to like or reblog this chapter (it is the best reward for any writer)

         Your eyes opened slowly at dawn, woken up by the first rays that shone through the large lancet windows. They did not dazzle you – they were too orange and dim for that - but you blinked a few times with a smile upon your face, not because of the light but to make sure the blurry pale silhouette that was slowly taking shape before your sleepy and lidded eyes would not disappear as quick as dew in the morning sun. Aemond looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was as if the ferocious aura he carried within him all day long disappeared during the night to allow him a short moment of serenity. Seeing him like this was surprising and unexpected. You always thought he would be the kind of man to sleep with a frown and with his fists clenched … and possibly a dagger underneath his pillow.       You chuckled silently at this idea, finding it more amusing than formidable and you wrapped your naked body in the soft sheet with a happy grin on your face to enjoy the view and the comfort of Aemond’s bed a little longer. You had never slept in a bed like this one. All you knew were poor thin mattresses on the floor and scratchy patched blankets that couldn’t keep you warm at night. But you definitely could get used it: the mattress as soft as a pile of delicate feathers, the fine cotton sheets so pleasant to the skin and the naked handsome prince sleeping by your side. They could almost make you believe you belonged here and not in a humid crowded dorm. If only the whole world was just this bed. Life would be so much easier.

You didn’t know how long you gazed at Aemond, your fingertips connecting the few moles on his milky chest by tracing invisible lines like an astronomer would draw constellations, but when you began to hear the growing hubbub in the corridors outside the prince’s room, you thought it might be time for you to leave your waking dream.         You instinctively pecked Aemond’s shoulder and reluctantly abandoned the warm sheets to get out of the bed and go back to your harsh reality. But before you could put a toe on the stone floor, a sleepy raspy voice stopped you.     “May I ask where you’re going? I did not dismiss you and I certainly did not order you to stop what you were doing.”       You glanced briefly over your shoulder and beamed away from Aemond’s sight, amused by the domesticity that warmed your heart.   

     Your relationship had changed greatly since the One-Eyed Targaryen’s return from Storm’s End a week ago. It had become gentler and more lighthearted and it had made you forget on many occasions that you were a mere serving girl whom the prince could treat like his personal whore.

All the moments spent in his company - whether they were in his bed or not - had become almost customary. Aemond would not summon you on a whim anymore to take it out on your cunt after a rough day (and he had had many rough days recently), nor would he dismiss you with nonchalance after being done with your service – sexual or not.   Every day, he would find a way to spend some time in your company. In the morning he would greet you with a smile à la Aemond, faint and controlled but genuine, talk to you as you would do his hair and then wait for you to finish cleaning his rooms before leaving for training only to find you again in the afternoon always in his chambers where he would study and occasionally glance at you playing the lute from above his book. Then after his usual evening on Vhagar’s back he would summon you again to bring him his supper and spend the rest of the night with you by the fire and then in his bed in which he would hump you over and over again until the hour would become too late.         Both of you loved and thrived in these new habits for they gave you comfort and a way out of your lives that were doomed to become darker.     A black threat was looming over King’s Landing. You both could feel it but for now you would ignore it and enjoy your new shared frivolity as much as possible.

“It’s dawn.” You declared, knowing your fellow servants would stare at you and probably ask nosy questions on your whereabouts and your absence in your dorm last night once you’d go back to them. You had never slept elsewhere before.       “Indeed, and it’s been dawn for a while now.” Aemond agreed, still lying in his bed with his eye still closed which made you wonder how long he had been pretending to be still asleep. “How long have you been awake?”             “Long enough to find your staring annoying.” He grumbled.               “But my touching intoxicating.” You added as you chuckled and then you scanned the bed quickly to find your undergarments. You had to get dressed.                 But before you could find them, Aemond pounced on you by surprise. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you against his warm solid chest so that he could lay you down in the bed again.         You squealed at first but then giggled as he handled you and trapped you underneath his pale naked body and a tent of white sheets.         “Touch me more. Your prince commands you.”           “The prince can touch himself.” You retorted with funny defiance that Aemond pretended to glare at to keep his callous reputation intact. But he could not trick you.           “My hands are busy at the moment.” His grip around your wrists tightened briefly to make you understand what he meant by that and you tried to escape his hold to send him a similar message.   “And mines are captive.”     “Hmm… Then what about your perfect lips? Do you think they can give me a soft kiss?” You chuckled as Aemond approached your face with the intention to claim your mouth. His heart-shaped lips brushed yours softly over and over again to make them reciprocate his affection. So, you parted your lips a bit and deliberately barely responded to his little pecks. You knew he would not appreciate your lack of submission and passion but there was a reason behind your restraint. You wanted to tease Aemond until he would turn his softness into something more blazing, which he ultimately did. His kisses multiplied and quickly became more frustrated and desperate, furiously begging you to just respond to his lips and give him what he craved.             You eventually did and pulled at his plump flesh with your mouth. You felt his proud victory in his smirk as he leant into the kiss, unaware of the little mischief you had in mind. Gloating in silence, you let Aemond lose himself in the kiss and when he finally released your wrists to spread your legs and get comfortable between your thighs, your hand slid down his body and suddenly grabbed his semi-hard cock as you bit his lower lip. “Ow!” He complained, more surprised than hurt, his pink flesh still in between your teeth, and then when you finally let go of him, he grabbed your wrists again to pin then down above your head. “I said a soft kiss.”         “Really? I thought you said rough.” You joked as you tried to bite him again. This time Aemond saw it coming and he recoiled to frown at you even though he was as amused as you were. He genuinely liked that frivolous wild side of you and he secretly wished he had discovered it way sooner. It would have cheered his days up.   “You’re about to get it rough if you don’t behave.” He threatened and you sank back in the mattress, pretending to be impressed even if in truth your eyes were sparkling with pride and mischief and a cheeky smirk was discreetly tugging at your lips.         “I have to go back to my toils.”       “I forbid you.” The prince immediately retorted before giving you a half-serious look that meant ‘don’t you dare bite me this time’. You giggled almost silently and Aemond nestled his face in your neck to lay a few humid kisses on your warm skin.           “What about your morning training?”       “I like this routine better.” He mumbled between two pecks that made you squirm.     “I might not be as educated as you are but I don’t think you can call this a routine since it is the first time it happens.”     “We’ll make it a routine then.” His answers came all so quick you wondered if he even put some thought into them or if he was simply acting reckless again just like last night when he made you stay. “I would love to wake up in your presence more often… every day in fact.”         “In my presence or in something else?” You teased, conscious of his cock growing harder between your thighs         “In anything you wish to offer me.” He purred in your neck.         “No, Aemond. What do you want?”            

For reasons you couldn’t explain, your question had come out with more seriousness than intended. When you felt the Targaryen prince’s lips freeze on your skin and his body become still against yours, you realised that your words had not fallen on deaf ears.           Aemond looked up at you with sad puppy eyes only you were allowed to see but deep down he was grateful. No one had ever asked him what he wanted, never in his young life, because what he wanted did not matter. What mattered was duty. Duty above all else.       “So many things I can’t have.”         Hidden with you under the tent made of white sheets - a tiny world in which there was just you and him and no one else to hear him - he wished to enumerate them all, tell you about his desire for recognition and love, about his thirst for power and secret aspiration to the Iron Throne. He also wished to admit that he did not enjoy being an asset for his family anymore, that he did not want to marry Floris Baratheon and that the recent time with you had made him realise there was only one woman he craved to have forever not only in his bed but by his side. However, as usual, he kept everything to himself. His pitiful confessions could wait. They didn’t have their place in that lovely cotton nest you two had built together.   “But right now, I want your surrender.” He pressed his cock to your core to change the subject but you still had enough control to keep the conversation going.   “We both know you’re too stub…persistent to truly renounce something that someone said you couldn’t have.”   “Were you about to call me stubborn? You’re insulting your prince, now?” He humoured. “How is that an insult?”       “You tell me. You corrected yourself.”       You pondered over your words for a short instant, wondering how you had almost let the word ‘stubborn’ slip. Prince Aemond had the reputation to be easily offended, fierce and prompt to violence and unpredictable outbursts. That’s mostly why you had always weighted your words in his presence. And yet today, you almost didn’t think before speaking and he had welcomed your familiarity with humour, not with the reprisal your old self would have expected. Did your relationship truly change that much? Did he change?     “You’re stubborn.” You finally dared say with a smile when you realized you could say the word without fear. “… but I like your stubbornness.”   Aemond chuckled briefly and he nestled his face back in your neck with an amused smile on his young face.     “Hmm … What else do you like?” He purred as he rubbed his nose on your skin before laying small kisses along your throat and you sighed deeply.             That felt extremely good but you were aware that the goal of his affection was not only your pleasure. It was a very cunning way to make you yield and give your prince what he craved but would not take from you without your submission.         “Your cleverness.” You declared and you cleared your voice as you squirmed lightly under Aemond’s soft pecks.       “And?” You could hear the mischief in his voice as his hands ventured down your sides and his mouth slid down to your chest, leaving a humid track on its way.         You couldn’t answer the prince. Your mind was too busy focusing on his ministrations. You wanted more.     Aemond reached your breasts rather quickly and you inhaled deeply, your eyes staring at his face buried between your mounts. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could feel your breath quicken.   Instinctively you spread your legs to welcome Aemond between your thighs as soon as he began kissing your breasts one by one. You could tell he dearly enjoyed their softness as he couldn’t stop pecking them and nuzzling in their flesh. When his lips found their way to one of your hard nipple, you bit your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning, but deep down you were just begging Aemond to just capture the little bud and roll his tongue around it.       Your silence drew the prince’s attention and he looked up at you. Your resistance didn’t please him. It toyed with its impatience and he hated that. But the thought of breaking it was exciting and he didn’t mind a little challenge, especially when he was sure of his victory. “Answer my question, starlight.” He ordered; his lips close to your nipple. “What else do you like about your prince?”       The tip of his tongue tickled the hard bud and you instantly whimpered. Your thighs clenched around Aemond in a vain attempt to soothe the delicious ache building in your pussy. You were getting wet and your arousal was screaming at you to just yield to your prince.       “Your boldness.” You hissed and Aemond rewarded your compliance by planting his mouth on your nipple. This time you couldn’t keep your lustful moan to yourself and a long plaintive ‘ah’ escaped your lips. Aemond chuckled with pride, your teat still in his mouth. He was taking real pleasure in playing with you.   “Tell me more.” He commanded as his hand slid down your stomach to reach your folds. You knew where this was going and you did not wish to struggle anymore. You were craving what was coming as much as Aemond.       “I love your passion.” You admitted, rolling your hips to guide the Targaryen’s fingers and he cupped your cunt to stop you from moving. “I decide what to do to you.” He roared and you froze. You silently looked at each other deep in the eyes for a moment and when your obedience finally convinced Aemond he slid a finger in your hole.       You sighed immediately and your head sank in the pillow, the heavenly sensations washing over you. “That’s it. Submit to be. Be a good girl.” Aemond purred as he fingered you slowly to make you yearn for more. “Give yourself to me completely.” And he caught one of your mounts and put your nipple back between his lips to suck on it greedily and nibble it with his teeth gently..     You wrapped your legs around Aemond in a desperate attempt at keeping him against you, loving his hunger and his burning caresses too much to let him go. That’s when you noticed him slowly rubbing his hard cock against the mattress, an instinctive and lustful gesture to certainly ease the ache in his loins. He craved to hump you and you could help but to find his desperate need terribly arousing.               “Aemond.” You whispered to catch his attention, wishing to help him with his painful hardness, but he was too busy sucking at your teat and fingering you to react.   You caressed his hair slowly – how soft it was – and then let your hand slide to his jaw that you brushed delicately with your fingertips. The prince responded to your touch with a grunt and he tightened his grip around your breasts to pull on your nipple even more, almost as if he was a child refusing to let go of his mother’s breasts. He was completely hypnotized by that little bit of flesh in his mouth.           So, you abandoned your idea and let him carry on.

Somehow, his finger managed to find a never-explored area in your cunt that made you abruptly arch your back, clench your thighs and squeal like never before. It surprised Aemond and he didn’t take long to find out the reason of your sudden reaction. He slid a new finger in your drenched cunt and reached the same spot again. You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails in the flesh, as you moaned loudly and Aemond curled his fingers.       He let go of your breasts to kneel between your thighs and watch your body shake and squirm under his touch as his digits pumping in and out of you repeatedly massaged the little spongy place within you that he had just discovered.       He was simply fascinated and your reactions were too beautiful and enticing for him to stop. If anything, they were encouraging and he wanted more of them.           “That’s it.” He whispered. Then he put his thumb on your swollen clit to rub it, knowing the touch you make you scream louder. He wasn’t wrong.           You cried out. “Aemond, please.”   “Please what?”         You didn’t know what exactly but you begged. “Faster … harder.”           He indulged you and quickened the pace, going all the way out of you and then right back in again. And soon, your body tensed, your toes curled and you grabbed the sheets as you screamed all the pleasure you felt.       Your orgasm was an uncontrollable explosion whose noise could not be contained by the tent of soft sheets above your head. It burst like wildfire, destroying the unknown dyke inside of you as if it was made of the most fragile material. It squirted all your pleasure out of you and drenched your thighs and Aemond’s hand and bed. “Fuck!” You cried out as you tried to push the prince away, astonished and rather embarrassed by what was happening to you.             But the Targaryen didn’t care. On the contrary he seemed to genuinely like it considering the amused satisfied smirk on his face as he kept relentlessly toying with your g-spot to empty you even more. “Hmm” He laughed and continued to finger you hard as you were still dazed and confused. His eye was dark and full of lust and you could tell he wanted more.             “I don’t think I c—” It turned out you could and another surprising spurt came out of your cunt making you whimper and wet yourself and Aemond once more.     “Seven heavens, I love this.” Aemond giggled darkly, proud of his doing. “But I definitely have to hump you now.”

He brutally let go of your cunt and flipped you over to grab your hips and bring your arse to his pelvis. He slapped your cheek, making your squeal and squirm and immediately plunged his hard in your drenched cunt. It slid in so easily the prince felt the need to growl. His fingers digging in your flesh, he kept you firmly in place to initiate a series of hammering and almost-punishing quick thrusts that reflected the infuriating yet arousing lust he was feeling.         You almost cursed because of his ardour but only a breathless gasp followed by a succession of plaintive moans managed to escape your lips. Bent under Aemond, at the mercy of his relentless drilling, you buried your face into the drenched mattress to muffle the sounds he took great pleasure to get out of you.                       “You like this, don’t you, my lewd starlight?” He roared, his voice dark and obscene.   You cried out as you nodded frantically and he pushed himself more into you, so deep you felt his testicles brush your soaked pussy then repeatedly slap your swollen clit that was so happy to meet them. The music of your wet skin meeting was enchanting and you arched your back to embrace Aemond’s smacking hips even more, thankful for the pleasure he was giving you.     “Do you want your prince’s seed inside you?” He asked between gritted teeth. The question was not a surprise. Aemond had stamina but such an enthusiastic pace could make any hardy man empty himself quickly.       You nodded again and dug your nails in the cotton sheets to take what he was so close to give you. But his rhythm slowed a bit and he took a fistful of your hair to bring you against his chest. You mewled because of the slight pain but it was nothing in comparison to Aemond’s cock pulsing in the deepest region of your cunt.       “I didn’t hear you, flower. Do you want your prince’s seed inside you or not?” He repeated in your ear and you felt your walls clench around him.           “Yes…” You admitted with difficultly and you heard him chuckle with dark satisfaction. “… but not today, please… Last time the moon tea gave me an awful stomach ache.” “Isn’t the pain worth the pleasure?” He purred as he took your breasts in his palms and he resumed his hammering.           You almost crumbled under his merciless pelvis but the prince held you back, keeping you still between his thighs with his hands tightly wrapped around your mounts, your back against his sweating strong chest.       “Aemond … please.” You begged when you understood he would not do as you had asked but once again, he didn’t listen and continued his pounding, chasing his release.         “Just let me give it you, starlight. I want to breed you. I need to breed you. I want that soft belly to carry my child. Please.” His dark voice sounded almost desperate as if his reckless desire to spurt his seed inside you was vital to him.   Aemond’s teeth met your shoulders, biting the flesh hard enough to leave a mark, and his strong arms wrapped around your chest, holding you tight against his torso, on hand pressed on your breasts the other on your lower belly to keep himself deep and you still. His thrusting slowed down but became harder as he began to grunt furiously in your shoulder. Then his muffled noises became plaintive growls similar to whimpers but more animalistic as he finally came deep inside your cunt, splashing your walls with every drop of his seed. When there was nothing left, Aemond stopped thrusting. Exhausted and silent, he remained panting and nestled against your back, his arms still around you and his pulsating cock still buried in your hole, refusing to pull out to make sure you’d keep every drop of semen inside of you.   He kissed your shoulder, right where he had bitten you and you smiled, tired just like him. “You never listen, do you?” “You said it yourself. I’m stubborn.”           You giggled and it made Aemond chuckle in your neck. His laugh was tired but soft and peaceful, almost childish. Moved by his gentleness and in need for comfort, you turned your head to kiss him. He let you and responded to your peck with tenderness.

But then your eyes widened in horror as you noticed a small child standing by the door of the prince's chambers, his blue look as appalled as yours. You alerted Aemond, screaming his name in panic, as you hastily pushed him away from you to cover your nakedness with the sheets. You truly hoped the boy had not seen anything of your and Aemond’s shared lust but deep down you knew the truth just as you knew this silly optimism was just a way to not give in to alarm.             You stared at the boy, terrorized and already silently begging him to forget everything his innocence – now shattered for ever - had witnessed but his blue eyes fixed upon you as if he was a fawn facing a sharp arrow were telling you he would never. You opened your mouth to say something but then he quickly turned around to rush out of Aemond’s rooms.   That’s when Aemond jumped out of bed, put on his royal black and green robe made of the finest cotton to run after the boy, the dragon embroidered in the back flying after its prey with deadly purpose.             You knew you should have followed him with the same haste but the fear growing inside you was making all your movements slow and heavy.

“Where are you going like that, snooping rat?” Aemond asked as he caught the boy by his skinny arm in the corridor and pushed him against the stone wall.           The little servant did not answer, terrified by the gigantic and formidable scarred prince that had just trapped him and that was now staring at him with impatience and dark amusement.   “Who told you to come in here?”   “S-s-ser Criston, my prince.” He finally mumbled, trembling like a leaf in a cold wind.   Aemond chuckled briefly, unsurprised by the revelation and he knelt in front of the boy to have a better look at him. He was small and sickly with sandy blond hair and pale skin. His cheeks were hollowed and he had dark circles under his puffy eyes. He had certainly not eaten or slept properly in a while, just like most serving children working in the keep. But somehow, it was another face that came to Prince Aemond's mind as he observed the boy, a face he had seen in a mirror for years. His. “How old are you?”   “Ten … my prince.”   “Hmm … You don’t look ten.” Aemond declared with a faint smile but that smile was far from kind. “You’re small, puny … a bit like I was when I was a child. A chance I was feisty and bold. Tell me, are you bold?”       The boy sensed the threat in the prince’s question and he shook even more. He crossed his legs, suddenly feeling the need to pee growing in his ragged trousers just like the terror in his empty stomach.

That’s when you entered the corridor slowly and quietly, your shivering hands clinging to the red fabric of your faded servant dress. Standing a few steps away from the boy and the prince, you wanted to intervene. You wanted to come closer and stop Aemond. You wanted to free the poor child and comfort him. But a selfish voice in your head was telling you to reconsider your boldness and your thirst for justice. You've too much to lose, girl. “No of course not, bold boys don’t run away like cowards.” Aemond declared.     The boy glanced at you from afar, his eyes shining with tears and pleading for your help. But you were just as terrified and paralysed as he was right now and the voice in your head was once more ordering you to stay put.  So you stared at the boy definitely sorry and you looked down at your feet in shame.   “Do you know what happened to me when I was ten?” The child looked back at Aemond and shook his head. In response, the prince pointed at the sapphire in his eye socket and the kid stared at the jewel with horror. “This happened. And you see the boy who did this to me, King Viserys, my own father, never punished him for it. If I do something as awful to you, a poor meaningless serving boy, if I take let’s say your tongue to make sure you don’t repeat what you saw in my rooms, King Aegon will do exactly as King Viserys. He will not care about you and he will definitely not punish me. So, there is nothing that can prevent me from making sure you won’t be able to tell a soul about what happened. Do you understand that?”           Your eyes widened and you felt your heart skip a beat. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Aemond couldn't possibly say that, not to a kid. And yet, there was this tiny reasonable part of you, the one that did not love, that knew he could. “Aemond.” You called out to make him stop and reconsider but your voice was barely louder than a whisper. But this time you were not scared for yourself, you were scared for that kid whose trousers were now getting wetter and wetter between his thighs.           “No child would wish to be so atrociously maimed; don’t you agree? So, promise you’ll forget what you saw and that you won’t tell anyone ever.” The serving boy nodded quickly and without thinking, his mouth tightly shut as if to protect his little tongue.       “Say it. You still have your tongue.” Aemond encouraged.     “I will forget what I saw and I won’t tell anyone ever” The boy promised, his teeth chattering. “Good lad. Now go tell Ser Criston I’m on my way.”         Aemond stood up and as soon as he stepped back, the boy ran away as fast as he could, occasionally clanking back to make sure he was not followed or in any danger.           His frightened attitude made Aemond gloat with pride and he looked back at you with a smirk. However, your reaction was not the one he expected. Instead of a look of gratitude or relief, you walked back to his room, looking disappointed and ashamed of him and of yourself.

Aemond frowned and quickly went back to his rooms to ask for explanations. “Why the look?” He asked with a harsh voice.     You were putting on your white apron, fumbling with the ties in your back. You couldn't stay with him any longer not after what you had witnessed, what you had allowed him to do.         “He’s a child. Did you really need to go that far?” “I merely intimidated him. He will get over it. Trust me I know." You shook your head, knowing all too well what he meant by that. But you still couldn't understand how he could take pleasure in treating boys the same way he was once treated, as if they were powerless and insignificant. If anything he should feel sorry for them. "Besides, he left unscathed, didn’t he? Doesn't that rejoice you?” You eyed at Aemond, baffled. He didn’t seem to realize how unsympathetic he was. “He was terrified. He peed himself!” You almost shouted, hoping he would understand the situation he had put the small child in. “You didn’t have to threaten him. A kind explanation even a coin would have been enough to keep him silent.” But it was like talking to a wall. “Nothing works better than fear, trust me.” He casually said as he walked towards you to take the ties of your apron in his hands. You tensed as he did but let him play with the white fabric. "And if that bothered you so much you should have said something." You looked down in shame once more, hating yourself for your selfishness and your fear, while Aemond unknotted your serving uniform sensually, foolishly believing you could desire him right now. “Can’t you understand I’ve done this for us?” He whispered before placing a kiss on your temple. “Have you? Or have you done it to save your reputation?”         “Why should it matter?" He replied as he stroked your belly and caressed your neck with his warm lips. "Either way I’ve still saved your pretty neck.”                   You hissed and brutally escaped his embrace, finding him suddenly repulsive and gross. You glared at him and he stared back at you with an expression of utter shock and disbelief. You wanted to say something, something meaningful that would move him but there was nothing you could say, nothing he would understand. He was a prince of the seven kingdoms and you were simply a serving girl, someone ... no, something that did not matter to the eyes of noble rich men like him. You had no power over him. You were nothing but a toy to him and you should have never believed otherwise. So you walked away in silence.   “Where are you going?” Aemond shouted. “Back to my poor meaningless serving girl life.”     “YN! Come back here! Your prince commands you!”          

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