#venus✧dearest

[litepowee]

absolutely LOVE the new theme !!

SOBBING!!! venus ily :((

i aint really good at making themes so its more on the simply side but i have a soft spot for kirby and m' glad ya like it <33

[lausaivrse]

THE NEW THEME HELLO????? PLEASE TEACH ME YOUR WAYS

i reawaken.. my.. gacha editing skills

[fushitoru]

chapter 10: the art gallery a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

genre/warnings ⸺ enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, suggestive, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly, all they do is bicker 💀, some historical inaccuracies, mentions of sex work

chapter summary ⸺ duke nanami suprises you with an inquiry, and the panic caused by it leads to an encounter with a very unexpected person (4.7k)

a/n she's a short one but i swear sm happened that im kind of surprised it was so short? mostly beta read (thank u to them as always), and i'll see u down below ~~~~

prev. the embers | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

Gentle Reader,

It seems that the next excursion polite society will be undertaking is at the art gallery, here in London itself. Filled with beautiful and evoking pieces, will it evoke affections and fuel potential matches? After all, it seems that the venue contains many hidden alcoves and hallways for potential confessions and intimate colloquies—so intimate that they are proposals.

One of these proposals this Author cannot help but speculate upon—that of Miss Itadori and Duke Nanami’s. After all, at every ball the fine lady and gentleman seem to be engaged in personal and amiable conversation; it appears clear to everyone in their surroundings that our season’s diamond has captured His Grace’s affections. But, dear reader, is this to amount to a future with wedding bells and blushing babes? Only time will tell; for now, your Author has no promises. After all, it seems that this season is sure to contain many surprises at every turn.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, likely from the sachet Nobara had insisted on tucking into your dresser to “keep you from smelling like an old book.” She stood behind you now, deft hands working through your hair with practiced ease, twisting locks into an elegant style fit for the day’s engagements.

“I came across something interesting in my brother’s study last night,” Nobara said conversationally, sliding a pin into place. “A rather compelling critique on the landowning gentry—Reflections on the Inequity of Titles—have you read it?”

Your attention perked at the mention of the text. “Yes,” you said, your brows knitting as you searched your memory. “It argues against inherited privilege and the consolidation of power within a select few, does it not? I recall making notes on it.”

As you spoke, you shifted slightly in your seat, the urge to review your thoughts overtaking you. Almost without thinking, your hand reached toward the hidden compartment in the floorboards—a small, carefully loosened plank where you kept your private writings. Your commonplace diary contained notes on radical philosophies you could never openly share, and even—if you were to be honest with yourself—a few stray reflections on Gojo (before it all went askew) that you had not yet had the courage to confront.

While you rummaged through the possible planks to find the hollow one, Nobara remarked, “There have been whispers of you among the maids, as well.”

You paused, turning to look at her fully as she twiddled with the ends of your comb. “Well, what do they say?”

She paused for a brief moment, as if weighing the effect her words could have on you. However, your closest companion was not one to mince words—especially if they would end up as beneficial for you, no matter how harsh. “That you’ve recovered from Lord Gojo quite well, and that you as a duchess is on the horizon—not as Mrs. Gojo, but Mrs. Nanami.”

Oh. This was not the least bit surprising—even your mama had heard these rumors. Part of you was concerned as to how your mother had gotten ahold of these whispers, given that Sukuna had long forbade her to attend balls with you after her last…episode, but it seemed that your mama had jaundiced channels of retrieving information herself. That, or the Whistledown had reported on it, which you would be ignorant to, for you did not care for gossip lately.

You wave a hand, and soon find the hollow space in your floorboards. “Those rumors may be all just hearsay soon enough, I suppose.” Then, you pull the floorboard where your diary is supposed to reside. “After all, Christ knows my luck with the creatures called men—”

Your fingers brushed against empty space.

Your breath caught.

The floorboard was there. The hollow beneath it remained. But your diary—your most guarded possession—was gone.

A sharp jolt of panic shot through you. You froze, your heartbeat thundering in your ears as your stomach twisted. No, no—perhaps you had misplaced it? You tried to recall, but the memory eluded you, replaced by a rising dread that gripped your chest in an iron vice.

The last you remember of it was packing it so that you could take it to the Gojo manor. Did you use it there? You did. If you recall correctly, you had done so in Nobara’s company, where you were secretly observing Gojo’s show of archery to Yuji on the balcony. After that, it was all a blur.

“Everything alright?” Nobara asked, tugging your hair slightly as she adjusted the style.

You barely heard her, your hands still hovering near the empty space as if willing the book to reappear. You wracked your brain carefully, trying to will in a memory where you had, in fact, succeeded to retrieve it from the Gojo countryside residence. A moment where you had packed it or a recollection of picking it up from the balcony—

Just as your thoughts began to spiral, the door burst open.

“Oi Sister, are you ready yet?” Yuji’s voice rang through the room, cutting through your panic. He leaned against the doorway with a lazy grin, arms crossed over his chest. “You do know we have to pay a visit to the art gallery today, correct?”

You barely had time to compose yourself, forcing a steady breath as you pulled your hand away from the floor. Nobara swatted at Yuji with a hairbrush, scolding him for his lack of manners, but you could hardly focus on their banter.

Your diary was missing.

And someone had taken it.

The art gallery was abuzz with the murmurs of the ton, the usual symphony of rustling silk, polite laughter, and the occasional overzealous exclamation from an admirer who fancied themselves an aesthete. Candles flickered in their sconces, casting a warm, golden light over the oil paintings that lined the walls—portraits of long-dead nobility, pastoral scenes meant to evoke longing for a simpler time, and a few ambitious attempts at allegory that left much to be desired.

As you walked hand in hand with Nanami, the weight of his palm in yours both familiar and grounding, your mind wandered elsewhere—back to the morning, to the jolt of panic that had seized you when you realized your diary was missing.

It had been a frantic affair. Nobara had barely twisted the last pin into your hair when you had rushed to the hidden space beneath the floorboards, expecting to feel the familiar worn leather beneath your fingertips. But it was gone. The shock of it had knocked the breath from your lungs, sent your thoughts scattering into a storm of fragmented memories—where had you last seen it? Had you truly packed it? No, you had taken it with you to the Gojo estate, that much you knew. But had you brought it back? The certainty evaded you, slipping through your grasp like water.

Before you could dwell further, Yuji had appeared in the doorway, cheerfully oblivious to your distress as he urged you to hurry. 

Choso had been more perceptive, his dark eyes lingering on your face as the four of you were ushered into the carriage. "Something wrong?" he had asked, quiet and measured.

You had shaken your head. What were you to say? That your diary—your most personal possession, filled with your thoughts, your observations, your private musings—had vanished into thin air? That the last place you remembered having it was the very home of the man who vexed you most? The thought alone had made your stomach twist. So instead, you had murmured some excuse about being distracted, about having not yet woken fully, and let the conversation drift elsewhere as the carriage rattled down the cobbled streets toward the gallery.

Now, standing in the midst of polite society, surrounded by paintings and candlelight and the low hum of cultured voices, the unease still clung to you.

"It is a fine collection," Nanami remarked beside you, his gaze sweeping over a landscape of rolling hills. "Though I must say, the artist’s depiction of light is rather conventional. There is no true feeling to it, only a replication of what is expected."

You nodded, your agreement automatic. "Indeed. It lacks a certain… depth. The brushwork is delicate, but there is no challenge in it, no provocation of thought."

Nanami hummed in approval. "Precisely."

The conversation continued in this fashion—pleasant, agreeable, effortless. But with each passing moment, a strange disquiet settled over you. Your mind drifted, not toward the paintings, nor to the man at your side, but to something far removed from this genteel setting.

The diary.

You had searched again this morning before leaving, hands trembling as you sifted through your belongings, the panic curling in your stomach like a tightening noose. Yet it was not there. No matter how many times you retraced your steps, no matter how much you willed the memory to sharpen, the last certain recollection you had was of the Gojo estate—of the evening spent watching Satoru’s archery from the balcony, of penning your thoughts in the quiet company of Nobara. And after that? Nothing.

Had you left it behind? Had someone found it?

A fresh wave of unease coursed through you. If it had been discovered, if its contents had been read—

"Are you feeling unwell?"

Nanami’s voice pulled you back to the present. You turned to him, startled, and realized belatedly that you had grown silent. His brow was slightly furrowed, his concern subtle yet unmistakable.

"I—no," you hastily assured him, forcing a small smile. "Merely lost in thought, Your Grace."

His gaze lingered, as if gauging the truth of your words, before he continued, seemingly appeased. "I was saying," he began, as the two of you came to a stop before a grand painting of a woman reading by candlelight, "that I should like to spend my life in such quiet appreciation of art and literature. With a loving wife, of course, who shares the same sensibilities."

The words were spoken casually, but the weight of them struck you like a blow. You stiffened, the meaning settling into place a second too late.

“It is time the Nanami dukedom get its duchess,” he continues, seeming to pay no mind to how you’ve frozen like a deer hunted. He turns to you, looking to you with a twinkle in his eyes, one you could not read. “And I seem to have found a very…capable option.”

“I see,” you force out, swallowing nervously. 

“Indeed.” For a beat too long, Duke Nanami looks at you, but then says, “And I would suppose I’ve done my utmost to show what a dutiful, respectful husband I can be—after all, it is freedom that makes one prosper, not a gilded cage. 

"Furthermore, I have my fancy on someone who fits this description," he continued, his tone carefully measured. "But I am unsure if she would accept my proposal." He glanced at you then, his gaze steady. "Do you think she would?"

The air seemed to thin around you.

It would take a fool to miss what His Grace was implying—hand in hand, after you’ve both been courting each other for a week or so now, it is quite clear he’s using this to test the waters. To gauge your reaction.

The air in the gallery suddenly felt too thick, too heavy, pressing in from all sides. You had been aware, on some distant level, of Nanami’s affections. He had always been steady, always constant, always present. But to hear it spoken so plainly, so deliberately—it sent a sharp, startling panic through you.

Your thoughts scrambled, grasping for something—anything—to say. Did you want this? He was everything a woman could ask for in a husband. Kind. Thoughtful. Intelligent. A man of great integrity. There was nothing about him that should make you hesitate.

And yet, you were hesitating.

"I think…" Your voice was too thin, too unsteady. "I think she would have to ponder upon it. For marriage is no small covenant."

It was a poor deflection, and you knew it the moment the words left your lips. Nanami’s expression remained composed, but there was something in the silence that followed—something in the way his gaze lingered on you, as if seeing past your carefully chosen words.

You needed to leave.

"Would you excuse me for a moment?" you blurted out, taking a half-step back. "I—I believe I should like to get some air."

Nanami studied you for a fraction too long before inclining his head. "Of course."

You curtsied hastily, turning away before he could say anything else. The moment you stepped away from him, your breath came out in a shallow, uneven exhale. Marble walls, floors, and ornately framed pieces of art blurred together, dresses and suits melding together in the edges of your vision. 

You didn’t know why this reaction had seized you so violently, only that it had. And you had no answer for it. You stumbled your way, heart pounding as you sought a respite—then, pinpointing an empty hallway. 

As you made your way to the target space, you heard other voices calling out to you—some of them might even be your brothers’. However, you were in no headspace to offer coherence responses, not over the beating of your heart. 

When you finally arrived, you were relieved to find that the hallway was blissfully quiet. Away from the bustling crowd and the low hum of conversation, you finally allowed yourself to exhale, pressing a cool hand to your neck as if that alone could soothe the rapid beat of your pulse.

Nanami’s words still lingered in your mind, coiling around your thoughts like a vice. Do you think she will accept?

Your breath had caught before you could form a proper response. You should have expected it—Nanami was nothing if not deliberate, never speaking without intent—but somehow, the weight of it still unsettled you. It had been a question and yet not a question at all.

A proposal loomed on the horizon.

You turned, gaze sweeping the dimly lit corridor until it landed on a single painting near the end of the hall.

Unlike the grand, gilded masterpieces displayed in the main gallery, this one had been tucked away from the grandeur. It lacked the polish of a commissioned work, the smooth elegance of a court-approved artist. And yet, something about it pulled you in.

Your fingers skimmed over the folds of your gown as you steadied yourself, gaze flicking upward to the painting before you. It was unlike the others in the exhibition—less grand in scale, less ostentatious in its display of wealth or pedigree. There were no poised noblewomen adorned in lace, no battlefields drenched in glory, no sweeping landscapes inviting idle admiration. Instead, it was a quiet tableau: a man standing beneath a twilight sky, arm outstretched toward a woman who stood just beyond his reach. Her posture was composed, her hands clasped before her, the tilt of her chin ever so slightly downward. She was not running, not spurning him—but she was not reaching back either.

Your brow furrowed as you studied it further. It was not a painting that offered easy interpretation. Was it longing? Was it duty? Was it loss? The artist had chosen to render their expressions in subtlety, eschewing exaggerated pathos for something far more ambiguous. The man was reaching—but did he truly expect to grasp her hand? The woman was still—but did she wish to be? The tension between them sat heavy in the air, much like the one that had lingered in your own chest ever since—

Before you could ponder upon the painting for long, however, you heard footsteps. Approaching in the hallway, they echoed softly in quiet chamber—after all, it was only you and the person who was approaching, seeming to need a reprieve of their own as well in the hidden alcove. 

But you didn’t need to see the person to know who he was.

Soft, unhurried, yet a bit shaken. By now, you had grown familiar with the rhythm of his gait—the lazy confidence in his stride, the way his heels struck the floor just a bit too deliberately, as if he never truly moved without purpose, even when he pretended otherwise. Right now, they were a little bit too arrhythmical to truly match the attitude you were far too familiar with at the beginning of the season.

A prickle of awareness traced along your spine, your pulse betraying you with its quickened tempo. But you kept your eyes fixed forward, feigning complete absorption in the painting before you. It was not as if you were eager for company—not after the morning’s ordeal, not after Nanami’s near-proposal, not when your mind was already tangled enough without the added complication of Gojo Satoru.

Yet he did not call your name, nor did he demand your attention. He merely came to stand beside you, hands clasped lazily behind his back, exhaling softly as he, too, observed the artwork.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, with the same easy lilt he always carried, Gojo remarked, “This is quite the departure from the usual fare.”

You nodded, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your gloves. “Indeed.”

Silence stretched between you once more. He did not press you for further conversation, and for that, you were strangely grateful. It was unlike him, really—so rarely was he subdued, so rarely did he refrain from prodding and teasing and making his presence unbearably known. But here, in this dim-lit corridor, he was simply… standing beside you.

A quiet hum. The faintest shift of weight. You could feel him looking at you now, though you refused to meet his gaze, instead fixing your gaze on the painting, the frame, anything almost desperately to calm your racing heart before you could have an over-the-top ebullition once more, embarrassing yourself in front of him for the nth time this season. 

A brief silence settled, and then—

“Are you enjoying the gallery?”

The question was polite, normal, and unremarkable. You latched onto it like a lifeline.

“It’s a fine collection,” you replied, keeping your voice carefully measured. “Some works are predictable, but others are…” You gestured vaguely toward the piece in front of you. “Surprising.”

Gojo hummed in agreement, stepping closer—not intrusively, but just enough that you could catch the scent of tobacco leaves and something subtly sweet. “That’s one way to put it. Though I have to say, you look like you’re concentrating awfully hard.”

You blinked, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the painting. “It’s a rather curious piece.”

“That it is,” he agreed, hands tucked behind his back as he regarded it. “But, like I said, a bit dreary. The colors are not vibrant, and there is much to be desired in regards to their harmony.”

You almost smiled at that. “Not everything has to be grand and gilded to have meaning.”

“A fair point.”

Another pause.

“You came with your brothers, didn’t you?” he asked.

“I did,” you said, grateful for the change in topic. “They were speaking with some friends when I last saw them. And you?”

“Oh, you know how it is.” He waved a hand. “Came with Geto, ended up being dragged into conversation with half the room.”

You nodded, the corners of your lips tugging upward just slightly. “A best friend’s love, perhaps.”

“Perhaps.”

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you. At the opportunity given to you—of not having to fill the silence courteously with further small talk—you instead set aim on settling your heart. Pressing a hand to your bosom, you took in deep breaths until your frantic pulse became more regular. 

Finally, he spoke again. “It is rather unusual, though.”

You inhaled slowly. “How so?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Most paintings of this sort would either commit fully to tragedy or leave some feeble hope within the composition. But this—” He gestured lightly. “There is no resolution. No grand confession, no dramatic refusal. It simply is.”

You found yourself exhaling, your posture easing ever so slightly. “That is precisely what intrigues me.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “So we agree.”

You huffed softly. “A rare occurrence, indeed.”

Gojo chuckled at that, shifting his weight as he observed the painting anew. “Still,” he mused, “I do think the artist intends for us to sympathize with the man. See how he reaches? How he refuses to yield to their distance? A weaker man might call it tragic.”

Your brow arched slightly, turning your gaze toward him. “And what would a stronger man call it?”

Gojo hummed. “Hopeful.”

You studied him for a moment. Then, returning your attention to the painting, you shook your head. “I disagree.”

“Of course you do.”

“The woman is not simply distant—she is removed,” you continued, ignoring the teasing—softer than the one you recognize—edge to his voice. “She does not reach back, not because she is afraid or reluctant, but because she cannot. She is bound by something greater than yearning.”

Gojo exhaled sharply through his nose, his expression flickering with amusement. “You think it is duty, then?”

“What else could it be?”

His gaze lingered on the canvas, his smile fading just slightly. “Perhaps love.”

Something in your chest stilled.

Gojo let the words settle, slow and deliberate, before finally turning to face you fully. The candlelight cast his features in soft relief, catching on the silver embroidery of his waistcoat, the pale strands of his hair, the unmistakable glint in his eyes. “I find it rather grim—albeit in a different direction than of yours,” he remarked. “Rather than fear of what she cannot, it is better that love and duty do not coexist, for their amalgam can prove troublesome.”

You parted your lips, but hesitation stilled your tongue. Not because you lacked an answer, but because—for all your certainty earlier—you were no longer so sure.

A moment passed.

Finally, you exhaled, your posture softening by a fraction. “Perhaps,” you said, voice even, “we are simply of different minds.”

Gojo studied you for a beat longer before a slow, knowing smile curled at the corner of his lips. He inclined his head ever so slightly. “As we so often are.”

It was not a challenge. Not a victory.

Merely an understanding.

As you stood there, the conversation settling between you, you found yourself thinking—not just of the painting, not just of duty and love, but of him. Of what he had done for you. Of how, despite everything—despite his arrogance, his sharp tongue, the way he had needled and provoked you, the way he had wounded your pride in ways no one else ever had—he had still stood by you when it truly mattered. When the moment arrived, when the weight of the world bore down on you, he had not hesitated. He had not faltered.

It was no small thing.

Perhaps he was not someone you could court, not someone who fit the shape of the life you had imagined for yourself. Perhaps he was not someone you could love—not in the way you had once thought love should be. But he did not need to be an enemy.

Not anymore.

There were worse things in this world than an unbearable, impossible man who, despite it all, had proven himself in the ways that truly counted.

When Satoru had wandered into the hidden hallway to escape Suguru’s notorious actions, he had not expected to find you. But it seems that the day was full of surprises, for he hadn’t expected your sentiments and posture about him to have changed.

Gojo had expected a sharp tongue, a ready rebuttal, the usual resistance you always met him with. Instead, you spoke with a peculiar softness tonight, your responses thoughtful, your gaze lingering not on him, but on the painting before you. He had not expected you to be so—what was the word?—empathetic. You had a ready answer for everything, a thoughtfulness to your opinions that was neither contrived nor merely spoken to please. And so, he found himself asking more, pressing you for further insights, testing the depth of your knowledge not to challenge, but because he wanted to hear what you had to say. At first, when he had wandered in, you seemed completely distraught but had seemed to ease your way into comfort, even in his presence.

Curious thing, that.

“You truly have an answer for everything,” he murmured at one point, more to himself than to you.

You glanced at him sidelong, the corner of your lips tugging in what might have been amusement. “You say it as though it is a fault.”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “On the contrary, it is rather impressive.”

You inclined her head, not as a show of modesty but of simple acknowledgment. And for a brief moment, Satoru found himself simply… looking at you.

Your hair was finely arranged, swept up with delicate precision, though a few strands framed your face in an artful softness. The candlelight played upon the curve of your cheek, your lashes casting faint shadows upon your skin. Your dress—subtle in its elegance—complimented you in a way that felt effortless, the cut revealing just enough of the delicate arch of your throat, the slope of your shoulders, without ever breaching the realm of impropriety. You had always carried herself well, but there was something about you tonight, something that held his gaze longer than he intended.

He might have lingered longer still, might have remained entranced by the way the flickering light moved across your skin, had you not turned to him suddenly and called his name.

“My lord?”

He blinked, startled out of his reverie. “Hm?”

You studied him for a beat, her expression unreadable, before you simply exhaled and turned your gaze back to the painting. “I meant to thank you,” you said, voice quieter now. “For what you did last time.”

He knew what you referred to at once. The day he had defended you. The accusations that had been hurled at your feet, the venom spat in your direction—he had not tolerated it, would not have suffered it, no matter what might have stood between them.

Satoru felt the tips of his ears warm, though he smirked to deflect from it. “Ah. Well. It was merely a matter of preserving your honor.”

You turned to him fully now, your gaze steady. “You need not have done so.”

Satoru shrugged, though he found himself holding that gaze longer than he should have. “I could not stand to hear such things said of you.”

A quiet pause stretched between you both, and something in your expression shifted. A sort of understanding, perhaps. A recognition of something he could not yet name. He could not tell how long you both stood there like that, neither looking away, nor breaking the quiet that had settled so easily between you.

Then—

“Ah, here you are.”

Gojo turned sharply, his expression cooling the moment he recognized the voice.

Sukuna stood at the entrance of the hallway, his presence an unwelcome disruption to the delicate moment that had just transpired. His gaze flickered between you and Gojo, a slow, dangerous scowl settling over his features. “What the hell—”

You stiffened, immediately stepping away from Gojo, though his gaze remained steady on you. "Sukuna—"

"You’re with him?" he snapped, his tone sharp with outrage. His glare darted toward Satoru, seething. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Not here," you hissed under your breath, already moving toward him. "Let us leave, brother."

Sukuna's jaw tightened, but his glare burned hot as he pointed a warning finger at Satoru. It was almost comical how his figure seemed to be an impenetrable boulder as you—tiny in comparison to his frame—tried to shove him out to salvage whatever grace you could in your exist. “Lord Gojo, you—!”

But it was to no avail, for you had hastily quieted whatever ill reprimand Mister Sukuna Itadori had to throw towards him by shoving a hand over his mouth. Then, you grabbed his arm, practically dragging him away, as you cast one last, hurried glance at Gojo. "Good evening, my lord." And then you were gone, Sukuna stalking beside you, fuming, while Gojo remained behind, watching you disappear into the halls lined with art.

prev. the embers | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n is this....character development??

i hope this appeased anyone who was beginning to worry that miss itadori was a bit too antagonistic ... i have my beta readers to thank otherwise we never would've made it out the trenches

reader after nanami dropped the bomb on her

lowk i dont have much else to say but uhhh streets been saying there's gonna be another forced proximity library scene soon but how would i know what happens lolz

reblog and comment to lmk ur thoughts!

TAGLIST

@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover

@kalulakunundrum @r0ckst4rjk @mo0sin @angelina7890 @jaeminaur

@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco

@fortunatelyfurrygiver @aurora-tiny @gojonegs @luna-v-roiya @xxemmarldxx

@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2

[doromoni]

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : I’m sorry everyone who’s requesting to be added to the taglists :(( I thank you for your support fr! tumblr wouldn’t let me add anymore people. But! I promise I’ll add you lovely people to the maintaglist after this series!

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Warnings : Moderate Cursing , Grammatical Errors

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

< Previous | Part 4 | Next >

*Message sent

mclaren

liked by Y/N., oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

mclaren OSCAR PIASTRI!! GRAND PRIX WINNER

!!!🏆

*Message sent

Y/N. 11h

story replies

oscarpiastri Thank you again Y/Niee🧡 Where’s my reward?

Y/N. So so proud of you Osc! I’m so happy for you. Truly deserved 🥺

Y/N. What reward do you want Mr. Eager?

oscarpiastri Attend the next grand prix 😁 pleaseee?

Y/N. How could I say no to that? 😫 Ok Oscar Jack Piastri, I’ll go to the next grand prix for you!

oscarpiastri Lets freaking go!! Now go to sleep!

Y/N. Aye aye sire 🫡.

Y/bf Someone is being brave 🤭

Y/N. Whatever do you mean my dear best friend

Y/bf Nothing Nothing ~

charles_leclerc OH I SEE 👀

Y/N. well you do have eyes Charles, of course you can see 😌

charles_leclerc yes, and I see you supporting my son~ Are you my future daughter in law then?

Y/N. 🤡 ok bye charles

Y/N 7m

*Incoming Call from Oscar

Pick up or Decline

Pick up

“Hi Osc! nows not a great time~ I’m live in 2 minutes”

“I know, I’m here”

“what do you mean your here??”

“ I’m here at the venue. Is it normally this loud? your fans are crazy not gonna lie”

“Oscar your here??? like America?? like my concert?? your here here??”

“Surprise! went as soon as I can”

“ Your flight was for here?? Oscar you just won a race and you literally flown to see me?? Thats an 11 hour flight!”

“Yeah well. Anything to make you happy”

“Holy shit Oscar… no one has ever done that for me. you’re fucking crazy! I’ll meet you later I swear…. wait for me backstage you muppet! I Missed you so much.”

“Missed you loads. Good luck on the show, Dear”

“Thanks so much my kindest sweeties pookie. Now watch we work”

*Call ended

Y/N.

liked by oscarpiastri, y/bf, logansargeant, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others

Y/N. The chapter has finally closed beautifully. Thank you Florida and the people who made it so✨

oscarpiastri You were so strong for doing this. I’m very proud of you Y/N 🧡

Y/N. Your support and presence meant the world Osc. Thank you for everything 🤍

oscarpiastri wouldn’t miss it for anything.

Y/bf Y/N, my dearest friend. You’ve truly outdone yourself. My tear ducts are empty, you were literally shining. I’m so proud of you!

Y/N. Thank you my OG 🥺 Thank you for holding on to us since day 1.

Y/bf always babe! always.

user1 If you didn’t cry during Y/N’s concert are you even human? fucking bawled my eyes out there.

user2 ik you could feel the hurt in Y/N’s voice when she sang her old songs for Lando. My entire body felt like I was the one who got cheated on.

user3 Y/N is a genius for making her old pop love songs for Lando into ballads. The raw emotions in her voice were both haunting and beautiful at the same time.

user4 Y/N everyone is so proud of you. Your strength astounds us.

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

[astro-tag-9]

Flaws of the venus signs

Aries venus: You maybe only fall in love with two people ever. And have no problem stringing along people you aren't entirely interested in, as long as they are still serving some kind of purpose to you. Learn to cut people lose and spare other's feelings when you realize it isn't for you. Taurus venus: Falling in love for you happens about 8 times a day. You can meet somebody, and instantly find 16 reasons to fall in love with them. Not every day is a rom-com movie. Not every stranger you meet is trying to flirt with you. Gemini venus: Not everybody needs you to be a hero. How about trying to save yourself for a change? You're all about self-help, except you will let your ego and emotions get in the way of loving yourself as you should be. You cannot fix yourself by fixing others. Cancer venus: You have to let people you love have free will. Not everything in love is up for grabs. Some things are beyond your control. Learn to love the unplanned and unexpected joys of love itself. People will surprise you, for better or for worse. But molding a relationship or a person to what you want, will sadly not give you the results you are wanting. Leo venus: You must give as much or more than what you take in relationships. Not everything is about you. No need to take everything personally, and there is also no need to be delusional. Things are as they are, not as you want them to be in your head. Virgo venus: The simplest things about love are the greatest. Stop expecting a whole show, when warm hugs and laughter are ultimately the finer things in love. It is ok to make the most of little moments, as before you know it they are gone. Libra venus: You have never actually gotten over any of your exs, and want them to all still be in love with you til the end of time (even if you don't want them anymore). You are such a huge lover, that part of you will always find yourself caring for the people in your past, even when you don't want to. Scorpio venus: You love deeper than you ever really know how to show. The ones you hold dearest to your heart, may have a hard time actually feeling your love for them on a day to day basis, even though you would literally die for them. It is ok to show affection and be vulnerable in love. Sagittarius venus: You never know how to express your feelings until they are too late sometimes. You always put your dreams first, which is amazing, but you are prone to lose out on real true loves because you never knew how to ask people to come with you on your adventures. Capricorn venus: In the beginning, sometimes it feels like you rush head first into love, and then once you are in it, you try to back out. Real love isn't always about the chase, and it isn't always about the rush. Good things take time. Let love grow instead of trying to force it. Aquarius venus: At your core you just want to be loved but you believe you are damaged, and instead get too picky on who you let in. It's like everybody has a time limit with you. Don't set unrealistic standards for love, and get upset when people are unable to make them. Pisces venus: People often wonder if you truly cared for them at all with how fast you tend to move on from others. I think you do this, because you don't want to give your heart too much time to feel hurt. But truth is, the pain of love is necessary to truly learn and move on. Take your time to heal before trying to start over before your learn your lessons. Each relationship will teach you something.

[monamipencil]

— venus in furs | l.cn

⋆ summary; portraying lee chan as an example for simp from the 19th century. or in which, he's the biggest loser for you.

⋆ pairings; chan x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, fluff, friends (?) with benefits, 19th century! au ⋆ w.c; 2.5k+ ⋆ warnings; chan is the biggest simp, lots of praising and body worship, oral (f. receiving), foot job (m. receiving), service top! chan, also subby! chan, unprotected sex (19th century condoms are horrendous), multiple orgasms, SIMP CHAN ALERT ⋆ a/n; here she is!! i'm always down for writing simp! chan. this is my first time writing a victorian era fic, let me know how you guys like it <3

your heat throbs between your legs as the man before kisses down your knees with a passion that rivals the fire crackling behind him. you card your fingers through his soft brown locks and sigh softly, leaning back on the canapé.

“we should stop this,” Chan freezes at your cold yet tender voice. he looks up at you, distraught brewing in his beautiful eyes.

“my lady, have I done you any wrong? have I offended you?” he says, tone laced with a desperateness that breaks your heart.

but you're in no place to enjoy the worship he bestows upon you. you, a small village girl, and he, the heir to a powerful business. and though you rot your days away, fantasizing about marrying him, you know it is not practical.

you think of the gasps and the sneers that the news of your relationship would elicit from society. this was all a game of cat and mouse. you escapes his pursuits and chases and he revels in it, pushing him to pursue you further.

what started as a playful banter ended up in flames of passion and pining. if not careful, it could burn you and leave you with scars. the world is forgiving enough for a rich man but not a poor woman. any woman at that.

“it is not as simple, dearest.” you sigh, resolve, breaking with every passing second.

Chan has never been as devasted. he couldn't imagine a day without kissing your skin and worshipping you as if you were Venus. which you were, in his eyes.

with all his honesty, Chan never thought when he was with you. any rational thought slips from his mind, and you infect him with your warm, soft skin and deep, lusted eyes. the only thoughts that conjure are how to please and make you happy.

even now, as you hold a stake to his heart and threaten to pierce him, he can only think of pleasuring you.

“can I taste you for the last time, my lady?”

his offer knocks the air out of your lungs, and you try not to embarrass yourself by sucking in a sharp breath. your eyes dart towards the darkness of the room, searching for anything to look at but him.

even with the only light in the room behind him, he looks ethereal with Selene resting in his orbs. with hesitancy in your breath, you nod, unable to deny him.

he doesn't waste any time, slipping his hands under the rich silk covering your body. you undo the robe he bought you, one of the many decorating your wardrobe.

he drags his hands up your skin, pushing the robe off you. his groan echoes through the marble walls of his chamber, and his eyes dart over your naked figure.

the glow from the Renaissance fireplace casts you in a mesmerizing light. these are some of the times he envies the hands of a painter. oh, how he wishes to paint and immortalize you in this world.

your nipples harden under his touch, and your heat glistens with desire. you spread your legs, welcoming to have a taste. he places hot kisses on your thighs, slowly moving closer to your core.

you hold in your breath, anticipating his tongue as his breath wafts against your heat. he presses a kiss to the pearl between your folds before placing his tongue flat against your lips.

the sounds that fill the chambers are blasphemous. you toss your head back on the rich fabric of the canapé. your lips turn red, trying to hold in moans as his tongue works wonders on you.

his nose brushes against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. his tongue prods at your core, sucking and slurping. he hums, drinking your sweet nectar as if it's water. one could only describe him as a starved man with the hungry laps of his tongue and lustful moans from his chest.

moon-shaped prints form on your hips under the pressure of his nails. he looks up at you with a passion that trembles you to your core, and your walls break down. wanton moans echo from the back of your throat, and your hips thrust up to meet his starving mouth.

heat courses through your nerves, and sweat coats your body. pressure builds in your stomach, causing you to gasp and thrash under his hold. he slips in a calloused finger to rub the small nub, filling you with pleasure.

your hands fly up to your breasts to play with your nipples. you roll them between your thumb and forefinger. you lock your ankles behind his back, pushing his head further into your core.

the familiar pressure builds up in your stomach, causing your moans to grow louder. you tug his hair roughly and move your hips against his mouth. with another tug of his hair, you come undone. your moans quiet down, but that doesn't stop Chan from licking you dry, not wasting any of your fluids.

he pulls away from your throbbing heat, and your arousal glistens on his chin and lips.

“what would your loved ones think?” you ask between bated breaths.

“what?” a pout graces his lips, and he tilts his head. big, brown eyes tinted with confusion. you suck in a sharp breath and resist the urge to pepper kisses all over him.

“that you love to have your head between a maiden's legs.” it was his turn to breathe sharply, jaw tensing ever so slightly.

“what would they think of you, knowing you begged to have a taste of her?” you lean towards his kneeled figure, tracing a lone finger on the side of his face.

“that you neglect yourself to please her?”

you whisper against his cheeks, lips brushing against his soft skin. he gasps when you press your foot against his crotch. you fall back on the canapé, continuing your ministrations on his groin.

you trace the outline of his shaft with your toe and apply pressure specifically on the tip. he groans and wraps his fingers around your shin, letting you have your way.

he presses a kiss to your knees as if it's your knees that are bruised from passion. you press your sole against his hard cock, and toe his balls.

chan never complains. he always accepts whatever you have to give him with open arms, whether it's an orgasm or a heartbreak. and it's a pity that you only want to bask him in love, but you know it will destroy you in the end. so you gave him cold eyes and snarky remarks. but who knew that he would rejoice in your indifference?

“my love!” he moans, rutting his hips against your foot. even now, he baffles you. he accepts the bare minimum with no complaints and always gives his best in return.

the pet name never fails to make you flush and throb with yearning. you stop your movements, the ache between your legs growing stronger. he whines at the loss of friction and looks at you with longing.

you swiftly pull the robe on your body and stand up. you grab his collar, pulling him up with you. he groans when you roughly push him down on the mattress.

climbing on the bed, you straddle his hips and slot your lips against his in a hot kiss. he immediately responds, one of his hands wrap around your nape and the other rests on your lower back.

he pushes his tongue past your lips and moans at the warm of your mouth. the robe is again stripped from your body and he flips you over, gaining control over you.

the yellow-orange flames paint his skin a beautiful glow and you find yourself lost in his beauty. chan kisses you like a man depraved from any touch all his life. it's all teeth and tongue and gasps for breath.

he inhales in your scent and kisses your neck in a rushed manner. his hands wander all over your body, trying to find purchase anywhere he can. his teeth bruises your skin and his lips soothe the bruises right after.

and his clothes come undone one by one, till you're both laying naked on the velvet sheets of his bed. his cock grazes the inside of your thigh, a premonition of what's about to unfold.

his lips descend to your nipples, wrapping his lips around it. an undignified moan leaves you as his warm tongue swirls around the sensitive bud. he sucks obediently on the bud, occasionally teething on it. he switches to the other bud, doing the same before continuing his descent.

he leaves a trail of kisses from the valley of your breasts to the mound of your heat. his eyes are closed and eyebrows knitted in concentration as he does so. he stops and looks up at you, the flames in his eyes burn brighter than that of the wood fire.

he offers a small kiss to your clit before mounting you again, placing his hands on either side of your torso. you're rendered speechless when he kisses your forehead, gently.

“I could not care less about what others think.” his breath is even and the assurance in his eyes sends a flurry of emotions coursing through your veins.

he chuckles at your gaped mouth and the break in your character amuses him.

“what did you expect from this fool that can only think of you? hmm?” a gentle yet playful smile plays on his lips. your flushed expression overjoys him.

he shifts, positioning himself before your slick core. the bulbous head of his shaft prods your lips and he gently caresses the soft skin of your waist. he leans down, pressing a series of kisses from your temple to the corner of your lips.

“I burn for you, by my body and heart.”

he kisses you with burning passion and his sentence is punctuated by pushing his cock inside you. the stretch is delicious and you moan at the contact, hips rushing to meet his.

your slick arousal makes it easier for him. he enters you with ease and you moan in unison when he bottoms out. he pulls out before sinking back in. he follows it till he finds a comfortable pace to split you open.

you hook your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips. the heel of your foot digs into his back, and your nails leave red imprints on his skin. your lips has a mind-numbing grip on his cock. he pursues a relentless pace that molds your insides to the shape of his cock.

your walls flutter around him and you cling to him, desperately. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. he thrusts harder, the sound of skins slapping reverberate off the marble walls.

the bed creaks with each movement of his hips. you moan, and throw your head back with a roll to your eyes. the sound of your slick every time your hips meet is sinful.

“kiss me, please. please.” Chan begs you with urgency. as if he'd succumb to death if you didn't oblige.

you rake up your nails up his back and eye his bruised lips, licking your own. a sultry haze swirls in your eyes and he's mesmerized by them. his pace slows down, involuntarily and you cradle his face before smashing your lips to his.

Chan whines and whimpers into your mouth, his hips meeting yours erratically. the orange embers from the fire place illuminates him in a heavenly aura. you dig your heels into his back, forcing him to move harder.

the pressure builds in your stomach again and you feel light-headed. Chan thrusts into you with passion and your slick drips down from your thighs.

“I love you,” you gasp at a certain hard thrust, and his confession kindles a new fire inside of you.

“I admire you,” he punctuates with a soft kiss to your temple and thrusts harder.

“god, you're so beautiful.” he cries, holding you tighter. you do the same, and rest your head on his neck. you kiss his neck, peppering him with red blemishes.

with another hard thrust, you come undone, moaning and whimpering his name. he pulls out, jerking off before he spills warm, white ropes of semen on your stomach and thighs.

he falls on the mattress beside you and pulls your body closer. soft apologies spill from his lips as he peppers kisses on your skin to make up for his roughness.

you catch your breath and melt into his arms. the fire has died down, leaving the room cold and dark but Chan keeps you warm. his hands caress your skin and he looks at you with such admiration that makes him cry.

the heat of the passion died down, leaving room for soft vulnerability. his fingers entwine with yours and he holds you as if you're the most sought after price in all of the world.

“I love you,” you admit and he freezes, mind buffering as he processes your words. he searches your face for any insincerity but he's met with none. you offer him a gentle smile and a warm hug.

he melts into your embrace and you hear a few sniffles. you chuckle, rubbing and patting his back. but he pulls away, leaving you confused.

you see his naked back disappear behind the room divider and he soon emerges with a wet cloth. a hiss falls from your lips when he presses it on your heat, cleaning you up. he apologizes with a sheepish smile and a blush on his face.

a few minutes have passed and you're laying on his muscular chest, waiting for slumber to take you over. he clears his throat and stops his caresses.

“so, what do you think of marriage?”

he maintains a emotionless visage but you can see the fear dancing in his orbs. you try not to chuckle and give your answer with an even voice.

“a burden,”

“a burden?” he parrots, voice laced with hurt.

you hum, feeling your heart thrum wildly beneath your rib cages. if it weren't for the bony cage, your heart would've ripped it's way out, begging for him to touch it.

“but not to me,” you whisper, kissing his skin. you snuggle into his neck, and you can't see his face but feel him hold in his breath.

“not if it's you.”

he switches positions, hovering over you now. he silently asks for assurance and you nod. he breathes finally, and thanks the lord for answering his prayers. you laugh at that and return his embrace.

he peppers kisses all over you and chuckles with you.

“but dare to cross my heart, and your dick won't be attached to your body anymore.” you threaten but he smiles at you, clearly lovesick.

he kisses down your neck, to your breasts and stomach where he rests his head. he hears your heartbeat thump and he smiles.

“my heart would break before yours, if I were ever to do so, my lady.”

you caress his head, slumber rooting in your body.

“my soul is far too intertwined with yours.”

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)b

[bones4thecats]

They Had A Nightmare Of The Overblot (PT. 2)

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: They Had A Nightmare Of The Overblot Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia, and Grim + Yuu Sei Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: Like in my past pieces, the reader is not MC/Yuu, they are a person coming from Twisted Wonderland. By the way, for Yuu and Grim's part, they are envisioning the overblot of Yuu's S/O. And, for Malleus' part, it is set in the future where he and the reader are married and have a child (the reader is not specified as female though)

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

👑 As someone that tends to fills his day with many different things ranging from club duties to his work as a model and actor, Vil does not like to dwell on the past, to him it's necessary and can hold one back

👑 But, for some reason, the Great Seven seemingly disagreed with his coping mechanism

👑 You and Vil had begun to date one another a few weeks after his overblot, since you both grew up together in the Shaftlands, with your guardians working together in the movie business, but your guardian was a casting director while Eric Venue was an actor, you guys were very close growing up

👑 And because of how close you both were, seeing such a sight was something that not only scared him, but it scared you. You had watched your dearest friend become a, in other's words, monster

👑 Vil, before he blacked out, had seen your shocked and terrified face as you held Neige, trying to keep his afloat in the chaotic scene

👑 Thankfully, while he did come to his senses and become the same man you knew and loved, there was always a voice lingering in his head telling him that that incident proved how pathetic and weak he was. And how he could lose you easily to someone just like Neige

👑 These thoughts consumed his mind as he slept with you being coddled in his arms, your hands intertwined as your breaths began to slowly separate with Vil's speeding up and your slightly faltering at the feeling of air rushing past your ears

👑 Looking at your boyfriend over your shoulder, your eyes slightly widened at the sight of him, his face was contorting slightly as if he was going to cry but he was being forced to hold it in by fear

👑 Grabbing his face, you began to try waking him up. From shaking him to, somewhat, messing with his already messy hair, nothing was working, until you grabbed a small glass of water from your bedside table and splashed his face, making his eyes jerk open with shock

" Vil?! Hey, are you alright? You were jerking so much in your sleep and you looked like you were about to cry. I tried waking you up by shaking you but it wouldn't work- " " You're okay... " " What? " " Oh, thank the Great Seven that you're okay! "

👑 Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, Vil wrapped his arms tightly around you, tighter than he ever has before, making you let out a small gush of air from the pressure

👑 Holding you with his face burrowed into your neck as he lightly sobbed tears of joy, you sighed gently and hugged him right back. Your hands eventually reached up and began to massage his head and back, allowing him to drift back into a rest

👑 This time... there would be no dream of that fateful day and how you got that scar on your arm, it would be about you and his first date. The day he first realized he loved you...

👑 He's gonna kill you in the morning for splashing water on his face btw

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🎮 Unlike pretty much the rest of the boys, Idia doesn't fully hate his overblot. After all, he did gain his brother again, albeit a robotic version, but still

🎮 Though, every time he looks at Ortho, he remembers his overblot and the incident that happened when they were very young. And that makes him rethink everything. Also, don't get me started on when he looks at you

🎮 While he does think about how amazing and good-looking you are, he also thinks about the incident and how he sent a large shock at you and caused you to go into the infirmary for nearly an entirety of four weeks. And if scares him that he had done that to the only person who was there with him since the beginning, no death of anything occurring

🎮 Because of that event and how he had nearly harmed you to the point of being in a coma, Idia was very distant, holding to himself far worse than he ever did before. But, somehow despite these actions, you had accepted him and begun a relationship

🎮 For Idia, your relationship was built upon trust, loyalty, and honesty. Nothing else truly mattered to the male if he knew you would always be there and tell him the truth without him questioning it

🎮 One sign of his trust was allowing you to sleep in the same bed as him. And, in one of the first few times of this happened, disaster struck in the form of a nightmare

🎮 Hugging you tighter from behind as his eyes dodged in every direction underneath his closer eyelids, you awoke to his whimpers and very faint calls of your name and a mixture of pleases and no's

🎮 You had heard his eventual scream of a no and looked over at him in shock, he had never awoke so abruptly and harshly, even when he had nightmares of Ortho's death all those years ago, and that was scaring you enough, what had scared him so badly?

🎮 Opening your arms as he lunged in and hugged you tighter as if you were about to disappear, you began to hush him and hum a lullaby that his younger brother said he used to sing to him all the time when he had bad dreams growing up

" Y-Y/N, p-please don't leave me... not again... " " I won't, my love. I'm always going to be by your side, no matter what, okay? "

🎮 Nodding as you hugged him and pressed soft kisses to his temples, nose, forehead, and eventually to his somehow naturally blue lips, making him melt and hold one of your cheeks with his hands

" Now, how about we get some more sleep? You really need it. " " Ha-ha, funny... but, yeah. Sleep sounds really nice... "

🎮 Getting back under the covers, you instead of being the little spoon, allowing Idia to crawl into your arms as your legs tangled together comfortably. His breaths then calmed and became a steady sound as you rubbed his head and back to comfort him and remind him of your words

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐉 Malleus was not proud of himself after the incident, how could he have let something like this cover his mind so thickly it could be compared to Lilia's cooking's stench?

🐉 Ever since he had overcome his emotional issues with the help of his dearest friend, Yuu Sei, and his friends and family members, you and him began your real relationship, courting and all

🐉 Now, he had never really dwelled on the past, to him, it would only hold someone back. Holding onto a grudge was something he wasn't fond of doing, so he tried to never do it. And, unfortunately, he had failed with this kind of grudge

🐉 Back to the point of this;

🐉 You could tell that Malleus was getting stressed with his work beginning to overflow, and despite the combined efforts of help from his father-figure, Lilia Vanrouge, and his closest friends, Silver and Sebek, he still had a lot left for him as the King of Briar Valley

🐉 His grip as he held you as you rest was also a tell-tale sign. His tail's grip was starting to make your leg fall asleep, which was what initially woke you up, and when he felt you touch his tail and left it, he had accidentally in his sleep knocked you away and knock a cup down, landing on the ground with a shockingly decent-sounding crash

🐉 Malleus' eyes erupted awake as he called your name, unnoticed tears falling from his eyes as his tail had rammed up and his horns slightly curved farther with growth

" My Spindle, are you alright?! Do you have any cuts, bruises, or any burns?! Oh no, please tell me I did not burn you... "

🐉 Burn you? What in the name of Twisted Wonderland was your husband raving about?

" Burn me? No, Malleus, your tail merely knocked me back into the cup. I'm perfectly fine! Are you okay? You have tears falling down your cheeks... " " Tears? Ah, I didn't notice those... but, yes, I am fine. "

🐉 Bullshit, you knew when your husband was internally hurting and every time you saw this habit of pushing something else ahead to distract you, you would get annoyed. Much like right now

" Malleus. I know when you aren't okay... don't start lying to me now. " " Father? Mommy/Daddy? What happened? " " Nothing, Diaval. Just go back to bed okay? " " Why is Father crying, Mommy/Daddy? " " Father just had a hint of a bad dream, like you and I do. Now, please darling, go back to your bed. " " Can I sleep with you guys for the night? " " Why? " " I- I don't remember which direction my room is... "

🐉 Malleus smiled gently and held out his hand to his first-born son and hugged him as you chuckled as your son threw up his small raven plushie and huddled himself underneath the sheets as you hugged him and Malleus wrapped his long tail around you both

🐉 Why was he so scared of what he had done in the past? Maybe it was because the last thing he saw was the slight burn marks you still had imprinted on your arms from protecting Yuu, or maybe it was because he needed to see something to remember... remember why his mother had gave her life for him

🐉 She did so so he could understand her, her love for her spouse and child... and while normally such a though would bring the fae to tears, Malleus couldn't help but lay a kiss to his son and spouse's heads as he hugged them, pledging his devotion over and over again...

🐉 It did not matter what had happened, what mattered was what was going to happen

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

❤️‍🩹 -> MC/Yuu Sei ~ 😼 -> Grim ~ ・ -> Both Btw, the reader here is in Heartslabyul with Ace and Deuce

❤️‍🩹 Yuu, unlike his companion, had a very strict schedule of thinking when it came to the dark magic he had survived attacks from for the past few months at Night Raven College

❤️‍🩹 It was quite ironic really, because of his way of thinking and devotion to keeping his head high, he had attracted you, by far one of the nicest beings he had ever met in the new world... and really in his entire life

😼 Grim, on the other hand, had only gotten your attention because of how he treated your dorm leader, Riddle Rosehearts, with blatant disregard until he had punished him with his signature spell

😼 The feline had devolped a quick rivalry with you as well, well, a one sided rivalry that is, you didn't really hate the monster. In reality, you cared for the small thing as if it was your own sibling or child, gifting him small cans of tuna from now and then

❤️‍🩹 Your connection with Grim was something that Yuu loved, but, whenever he had seen you bending down you give Grim a can of tuna, your boyfriend couldn't help but see you in that god-awful form bending down above your old friend Cater about ready to attack

❤️‍🩹 He had never told you anything of it, preferring to keep such a vision to himself. He wouldn't want to worry you about his mind

Sadly for both of them, they would be forced to face their fears with the motivation of one thing; a nightmare with you nearby

😼 Your little friend had been curled up in your lap after eating to much for his lunch, mainly three cans of large tuna, and begun to take a long power-nap

😼 But, when you felt him begin to twitch far more than normal and feel the faint whimpers come off from his chest, you picked Grim up and excused yourself from your third-year allies and housewarden to deal with him

😼 Ushering him awake, Grim jumped and accidentally clawed your hand, making a small cut begin to bleed on your palm. And he could only sit there on the ground in your dorm-room, small yet bubbly tears falling down his cheeks

" Grim! Are you alright? " " I-I'm fine, Y/N. " " No you're not... Grim, I know when someone's lying, please don't make me add you to the list of liars. "

While getting Grim to admit his nightmares was fairly easy, getting your boyfriend to do so would be far harder

❤️‍🩹 Yuu was, in your opinion, a no-paid therapist for the entire school. Or, at least the main members of each dorm, from housewardens to their vices, he has spoken to pretty much all of them through their problems

❤️‍🩹 He never really has been so clean of energy that day in particular, from nearly getting hit on the head by Deuce's cauldron from running from Vil while housing Epel from his lessons that day, he just wanted to lay by his loving S/O and take a long hard rest for the night

❤️‍🩹 But, like a lot of things that year, even something has simple as that didn't work out for him. He had a complete nightmare of the overblots he had faced alongside you, and he had woken up in a shock right before a dangerous and death-worthy attack landed on you

❤️‍🩹 You had starred at him in shock from the ground you had fallen on and just rubbed your arm as you crawled back up and began to caress his arms and back in an attempt to calm him down as tears swarmed his eyes and began to leak

" Y/N? Oh God, you probably think I'm weak for crying about something so futile... " " Futile? Yuu Sei I have seen and heard a lot of things throughout my lifetime here in Twisted Wonderland, some of which I believe and some I do not. This is far from a futile thing to cry about. You just imagined the almost-happening death of someone you care for... like I have... and from the mighty words of my Godfather, Dire Crowley, 'In order to use magic just how you picture it, you need imagination. Some mages also find it useful to make a habit out of writing and drawing out their ideas, to train their ability to better materialize them'. " " What does that old bird's words have to do with this?... No offense! "

❤️‍🩹 Chuckling at his reaction, you gripped his hands in yours and said the following words that would forever lay resting in his mind before he slept every night

" In my words, ' In order to succeed in surpassing something, you must earn it. Whether it be from talking about it or writing it down in a journal of some sorts, letting such pains off your shoulders helps out a ton, whether you believe it or not.' " " Now I know that did not come from Crowley's mouth. "

❤️‍🩹 Laughing at your boyfriend's words, Yuu took it as an opportunity and lunged on you, wrestling playfully with you as you laughed while he tickled your sides... oh, what did you do to earn such a wonderful man?

[abyssalfaith]

⭐️ Astro opinion ⭐️

- Virgo venus don’t mean « pretty little virgin mary », they can be shy but when they are confortable with their lover it’s freak Time. ❤️‍🔥

- Pluto in the first house poeple always change looks, and their primary physical appearance also change (like their face !).

- Moon in the 8th house give psychic abilities.

- saturn in the 12th house challenge the natives with isolation. With this placement you need to learn how to evolve Alone.

- taurus venus love luxury, can be matérialist..

- Profection year are my favorite astro subject ! Tell me if you want a post about it ⚗️

- Venus in cancer men SCREAM mommy issues 🫢

- capricorn are LOYAL ++, my oldest and dearest friend is a venus and sun capricorn

- the 3th house is about sibling and communication but also about car ! I have Venus in my 3th house and I have a sincère affection for my old destroyed car. I Will sob the day i Will change it ☹️

- you share placement with your parents and siblings ! Ex.. I am a gemini moon and both my mom and sister are gemini rising!

- gemini placement give the native abilities in the learning of new langage (because of the mercurial aspect)

Xoxo

Abyssal Faith

[unriding]

EVIE’S NOTE ( CLOSED ) ! welcome to my very first event! this is an open fandom, minecraft centered event that is open to anyone 18+ (anons, strangers, non-followers & non-mutuals are more than welcome to join in!! i would love to create a little post for you)!

if small text is hard on your eyes, see here for this exact post in large text & auto caps. otherwise, details & how to join are written below!

( closed ) send an ask with… first: your pseud, a picrew, your preferred fandoms and any lore or facts about yourself ( optional ) !

( closed ) what i make ….. here’s the link to an example!! i make a post on @z3vie, and i’ll tag you if you’re not on anon. if you’re on anon— u can either scroll or check the queue below for the link!

i’ll make you and your f/o a minecraft skin- to the best of my abilities. features will be vaguely represented. i’ll set u up on a minecraft date!! who’s fighting mobs and who’s picking flowers ? >:o we will see. ( repeat dates will happen !! )

other relevant info … i won’t post your ask. it’ll be deleted marked as complete in my queue! also, it’s a very chill event! you’re welcome to send me no selfship info, or pages of selfship info. don’t even stress about it ^ ^ !!! (tho u should send me selfship lore because i am nosy)

oh shoot also unriding is severely understaffed (there is only one evie here and no twice in existence to duplicate myself) so please be patient > < i will do my very best !! trust :>

one last thing my dearest friends : this event is in collaboration with @mlkbwunnies’s 2024 yume creators market !! meaningggg a bunch of others are hosting selfship events right now too!! free free to check out ying’s mlist here :> HAVE AN AWESOME SELFSHIP WEEK YAYY

( current queue! ) check @z3vie for your post!! also, note — the animal group names have no relevance, they are just cute hehe

POSTED

deer group — ( grey / letta / kiki / yue )

polar bear group — ( min / rye / ying / nick )

cat group — ( awea / aegis / sua / gray )

hamster group — ( kendall / lauren / kruin / rara )

rabbit group — ( rae / lena / marlyn / aspen )

lion group — ( aliyah / hea / quinn / bibi )

koala group — ( sylvester / kayla / lexi / jess )

tiger group — ( venus / em / nyx / meirin )

axolotl group — ( jiae / romy / luvie / candy )

panda group — ( kai / ai / cy / aims )

fox group — ( jay / liv / amor / sam )

bumblebee group — ( bee / flora / zebra / atlas )

unicorn group — ( ophelia / fuji / venus / mari )

hummingbird group — ( esther / risu / mitzi / lotus )

sea otter group — ( mochi / ryu / luna / honey )

sea horse group — ( mellina / rain / cha / whimsy )

bluebird group — ( clever / steph / brynn )

[litepowee]

omg hi!! happy belated birthday! my feed has been wonky so i just saw your post! i hope it was a good one!! <3

hii venus!! thank you lovely, don't even worry about it i know you've been fighting to get unshadow banned !! it was a very nice day thank you<33

[merakiui]

If I- if I may be so bold and share An Aventurine Thought™ that includes a breeding kink (or at least baby trapping)… 👀 (spoiler-free!)

Aventurine is a high-stakes, high-return gambling guy, yet at the same time he doesn’t make deals that don’t pay off. (info taken directly from his official description) He’s willing to risk it all, but the price you’ll have to pay is just as high.

So he offers you a deal: let him do it raw just for one night and if you don’t fall pregnant after that, he’ll disappear out of your life. But in the case that you do become pregnant, you’ll marry him and will be forever his.

Sounds straightforward, and the chances are obviously in your favor (20% risk of pregnancy), so you agree to it.

What you did not consider is that “one night” does not mean one single time, so now you’re getting railed and creampied nonstop all night long. 😈 Ooorrrr maybe he whisks you away onto a planet where night is permanent so that “one night” literally lasts forever. OR he pretends to play fair on that particular night, but unbeknownst to you, he’s been noncon’ing you in your sleep for weeks now, and he absolutely will continue to do so on all following nights. Gotta make sure his seeds take, right?

Either way, there’s no doubt your pregnancy test will come out positive. Aventurine knows that, but you don’t. And aww, aren’t you the cutest when your initial confidence slowly dwindles to uncertainty and nervous “what if?”s over the coming weeks? 🥰

THIS IS SO DELICIOUS OH MY GOODNESS GOSH WOWOWOWOWOWOWOOOOOOOOO. OTL OTL I NEED HIM SO BADLY.

uuuwuwaaaa it pains me that I cannot articulate my thoughts in full without risking being ooc. </3 but omg this is everything and more!!!!! Aventurine watches you go from being so very confident to so very scared as the weeks pass and your period has yet to show and you start feeling more and more sick. Time to start looking into rings, dearest. Time to start looking for venues. Do you have any preferences? Just let him know and it shall be yours. <3 no need to look so disheartened. You agreed to this, after all. It's completely fair, and seeing as he's won this little gamble it's time for you to come to terms with your loss. Complain all you want; a deal is a deal, darling.

He's excited to plan the wedding with you, even more so when it comes time for you to pick a wedding dress. Of course you'll have to take into account the fact that, by the time it's finally the day of the big ceremony, you'll likely be so heavily pregnant. The dress may seem spacious now, but you'll grow into it. :)

And by then he's sure all of your vitriol towards him will have withered away into something soft and sweet.

[koipudding]

vampire! Jing Yuan: (565 words)

who meets you when you first turn, and you're so innocent and naive; he can't help but pity you... Jing Yuan has been a vampire for centuries, and he finds you drinking blood from deceased bodies and wild animals, much like how he did when he was first transformed.

"Poor thing..." He mutters, dark amber eyes staring down into your muddy ones.

He takes you home, gives you blood packs from donors, and feeds you succulent meats with high iron content, and as many sweets as you desire. One day, he gets too close. It's been a decade of you living in his manor, but one misstep, one misunderstanding leads to him gently kissing your pulse point, and gently biting into the tender flesh.

The moment is far too intimate, so brazen and unlike anything else you've experience with him thus far. You knew he felt something towards you, but he hasn't explicitly said it, leaving you with doubts.

"Get off." You snarl, eyes wide and chest heaving as you push him off.

"Dearest--?" He looks hurt, not unlike a kicked pet.

"No. I am not your dearest, I am your roommate , not... not whatever you assumed we were." You feel your eyes burn.

Jing Yuan can only watch as you walk away, locking yourself in your bedroom. The next morning, no fluffy pancakes with warm soymilk rest at his nightstand. He passes by your bedroom, only to find your body curled into a small heap in the corner.

He coos your name softly, trying to catch your attention.

"Go away." Your eyes are glassy, hiccups riddling your weak frame.

"Not until I know you're okay, I'm sorry about last night. I assumed wrong." Jing Yuan stays by your door, opening it a bit further.

You throw a pillow at him, but he catches it, and tucks it under his arm.

"I will not leave. Not until we talk," He strides in, standing a few feet before you, "I should not have kissed you. Feeding from you--attempting-- to feed from you was irresponsible, and not at the level of intimacy I assumed we developed. It was my assumptions that had hurt you." He knelt down, trying to see your expression.

you curl up more, hiding in the recesses of a robe he lent you long ago, a relic from the days when you still had some humanity left. It hurts, it burns so much you might combust.

"I am not ready," you whimper out, "I--I want you, badly, but I can't. I'm not prepared." You sniffle, feeling your chest constrict.

Jing Yuan doesn't speak for a bit, hands clenching his own silk robe to remove lingering sweat.

"Then I'll wait," he kneels down, "We have eternity together."

Your breath hitches, anger rises at the absurdity of it all. But you sink back down, nodding slowly. He has not harmed you physically, and it was one (grave) misunderstanding.

"alright then." you concede, letting him pull you up.

A decade or two has passed since then, and the two of you maintain a lovely manor, lush gardens and hire the finest chefs (although, they only work once every month, catering banquets your lover holds for his human and semi-human friends.) Jing Yuan has married you, renewing vows every century or so under new names and fake ID's, happily spending millions on the loveliest venues.

[formulawolff]

night changes - d.r.

pairing: fem!reader x daniel ricciardo

word count: 1k

warnings: some cursing here and there, alcohol consumption, danny bein' a little shit, mostly cutesyyyyy shit hehehe, yadayadayada

a.n. -> yes, this fic is based off the song night changes by one direction. (and a request that was sent in!)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

clink, clink, clink!

lightly, you tap your spoon against the champagne flute, clearing your throat. as hundreds of eyes fall on you, there's a beat of silence. anxiety courses through your veins, yet you know you have to persevere.

after all, this wasn't about you.

it was about danny.

"good evening, everyone," sucking in a breath, you shift uneasily, the nerves overtaking the buzz for just a moment, "first of all, i would like to thank everyone for joining us in celebrating our love. i cannot express how grateful i am to be surrounded by all of our dearest friends and family members."

daniel is beside you, perched in his chair at the head table. the golden hue of the lights create a warm ambiance, softening his features. yet, when you glance over at him, you can't help but notice the stars that glisten in his gaze.

he nods, encouraging you to continue. taking your hand, fingers intertwine with yours. he gives you a gentle squeeze, dimples forming as he bears a quaint grin.

"before we begin the real party, i wanted to present daniel with a gift. i was going to give it to him during our rehearsal dinner, but i decided to wait. i figured it would be best if you all were here to watch it as well."

your hand trembles, yet you continue, the words thready as you fight the lump forming in your throat. tears begin to well up, blurring your vision as you look back down at love of your life.

"d-daniel, i know this gift is extremely corny, but i think it best represents our love story. you are the man of my dreams, and i cannot wait to love you and show you off for the rest of our lives. i hope that by the time this is finished, everyone will know how much i fucking adore and cherish you. max, could you please roll the gift in?"

max verstappen, the best man, gives you a salute, promptly disappearing behind an array of flower garlands. to your far left, a white sheet rolls down from a wooden setup, a specially crafted rig from your father for the big day. max wheels in a cart, your laptop resting on the top shelf.

he plugs a cable into the designated port, giving you a thumbs up. as you sit back down, daniel places a hand on your thigh, leaning over.

"what is this?"

"just be patient," a giggle bubbles up in your throat, "you'll see in just a few seconds."

the lights of the outdoor venue dim as an image projects onto the sheet, the crowd maintaining their silence. there are a few whispers, but you ignore them, honing in on the display before you.

"hey guys," a clip of you begins to roll, "you will not fucking believe what just happened! daniel just won in monaco!"

"holy shit," daniel's voice is barely a whisper, almost breathless, "baby, where did you-"

"shhh," you place a finger on his lips, "just watch!"

a new clip flashes on the makeshift screen, the moments following his 2018 monaco win. he's at the edge of the pool, surrounded by the red bull crew. you're there as well, lingering in the background. yet, daniel is persistent to have you front and center, grasping your arm gently. he manages to pull you into the pool with him, the two of you erupting into laughter as you come to the surface.

there's a second where you see him cup your cheek, his thumb brushing a soaked strand away before he pulls you in for a kiss. members of the crew dive in, filled to the brim with euphoria.

there are a few photos that flash across the screen. one from daniel's debut as a formula one driver, where the two of you swore you were "just friends." then there was one of the two of you as children, bearing wide, toothy grins as you played outside. another is your prom, where daniel flew in from australia to attend the dance with you.

flash forward to his time with red bull as their third driver. the two of you are filming a tik tok, more than likely for a sponsorship on your end. the video shows daniel playfully slapping your ass before you hiss at him, reminding him that the camera was on. he just shrugs before making eye contact with the lens, smacking your buttcheek once again.

another video rolls, a tender moment of the two of you dancing at a wedding a few years back. he's holding you close, your head resting against his chest, your lashes fluttering as you sway along to the music. his head lowers, the australian whispering a strand of words that weren't quite picked up by the audio.

the audience coos as there is a plethora of baby photos that appear, as the two of you practically grew up together. since your father was stationed in australia till you were thirteen, you shared many fond memories with daniel.

truly, you had no idea how intertwined your paths were until it all unfolded on screen before you.

he was your soul mate. the only man you had ever loved. and the only man you were going to continue to love.

until the end of time.

"that was the moment i knew i was going to marry you," his voice shakes, and you can't help but notice the glimmer of a tear as it rolls down, "fuck, how did you even find these?"

heat floods your cheeks, "i've been saving them here and there."

he takes your hand, bringing it to his lips, "that was a beautiful gift, my love. i couldn't imagine anything more perfect than that."

"it wasn't corny?"

"far from it," shaking his head, a hand reaches up, cupping the back of your skull. he brings you in, eyes still misty from tears.

"that is going to be something we show to our future children. and their grandchildren. and you know what they'll all say?"

"what?" your lower lip trembles, your own tears pooling up.

"they're all going to say, 'they were so in love. i hope that we find someone who we can love like that.'"

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 30 prompt : ‘Where in the hell did you find that costume?’

rated: M | cw: none | tags: vampire!Steve Harrington, chubby Eddie Munson, blood drinking, established relationship, d/s undertones, hand feeding

Inspired by @scoops-aboy86 ‘s little AU that u can read here !!! :3c

🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻

‘Where in the hell did you find that costume?’ Eddie asks, stepping out of the green room bathroom with his eyeliner smudged just the way he likes.

‘What? It’s funny.’ Steve says from the doorway, having just finished a final perimeter check of the venue. He does a little 180, showing off his yellow and navy letterman and blue jeans, dressed just like Michael J Fox in Teen Wolf.

‘Yeah it’s funny, but when did you even have the time to shop?’ Eddie asks, picking at the table of snacks, popping a mini muffin in his mouth.

Steve tracks the movement. ‘Oh you know, I just called around a couple stores, had them put it aside for me and then sent someone to get it as part of your rider. Rockstar boyfriend perks.’ He shrugs, closing a locking the door. He can hear the stage hands in the distance setting up, they have time.

He hears Eddie’s heartbeat increase slightly too. ‘What are you dressed as?’ He asks, stalking slowly closer, setting his sunglasses on the coffee table.

‘A vampires latest victim.’ Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, finishing a donut. He’s in a sleeveless black mesh shirt, tattoos and round pink nipples on display, and wide leg, high waisted slacks that hug his thick waist in way that makes Steve’s mouth water. Every so often a tabloid will get a shot of Eddie and say something about his weight, the industry not used to a rockstar that isn’t heroin thin. After something like that Eddie always makes a point of showing more skin on stage, letting the people know how proud he is of his body.

After all, it keeps Steve alive. Perfect and plump as it is. Eddie needs to keep his strength up, to be able to handle Steve’s appetite.

Eddie’s sucking strawberry juice from his fingers and Steve can’t take it anymore. In an instant he’s across the room and crowding Eddie against the wall, having picked up a brownie on the way.

‘Vampires victim? So you need me to help complete your costume right? Give the kids a real show out there.’ Steve says, holding the treat just out of reach.

‘Stevie.’ Eddie slurs, opening his mouth, pupils growing. Steve feels his own flower shaped ones unfurl slightly at the soft pink of Eddie’s tongue, at the rushing of his blood.

‘Open up baby.’ He says, one hand wrapped possessively around Eddie’s chubby hip. ‘I know you want the adrenaline rush for the stage, little junky, but you know the rules, food first.’ Steve whispers, lips on Eddie’s cheek as he feeds the brownie into his panting mouth.

Eddie whines, chewing and writhing under Steve’s hands, baring his neck.

‘You’re more than just a victim though aren’t you?’ Steve murmurs, picking Eddie up easily and walking them over to the couch. Laying Eddie down beneath him.

‘Victim.’ Steve kisses Eddie’s temple, his cheek and over his sweet sugar coated lips. ‘Slave.’ Down his soft jaw. ‘Pet.’ Over the tense muscle of his neck. ‘Dearest love.’ Steve breaths deep feeling his fangs grow. ‘Soulmate.’ He bites; sweet molten blood flooding his tongue. They moan in unison, Steve drinking and laving and sucking. Eddie whining and thrusting below him, into Steve’s strong thigh, pinned and used and panting with pleasure.

Steve drinks his fill, licking over the wound to close it but keeping two little red puncture wounds and kissing the red mess around to really finish Eddie’s costume.

‘Fuck. I need, uh, well.’ Eddie babbles, still blissed out and Steve giggles at the faint blush across his cheeks. Even after all these years Eddie’s still gets shy about how much he likes Steve doing that.

‘I have clean underwater in my bag baby, like always.’ Steve says, kissing Eddie’s lips and rising off him.

Eddie hums and closes his eyes. Steve listens to Eddie’s heartbeat slowly descend as he rummages around for tissues and boxers. Coming back to the couch to help Eddie sit and undoing his pants for him. Any part of aftercare has always been Steve’s favourite, all of it just made easier with his powers. More easily in tune, stronger, faster.

‘Want another treat before you go out there?’ Steve asks.

Eddie blinks slowly at him, dopey little smile on his face. He nods and Steve laughs as he brings another brownie to Eddie’s lips, rubbing his palm in gentle circles over his stomach.

‘Showtime baby.’ Steve says, hearing the stagehand calling for the other members at the end of the hallway, on their way to Eddie’s changing room. ‘Ready to melt their faces?’

Eddie giggles. Blinking hard and holding his hand out for Steve to help him to his feet. He kisses Steve long and filthy until the door opens and he’s called to stage.

‘You better still have your costume on when I’m done. It’s hot.’ Eddie says. waltzing out the door.

Steve listens to the steady thrum of his loves heartbeat all through the show. Counting down the minutes until he can get Eddie under him again.

🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻

Tag list : @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @marvel-ous-m @thecatkingsthrone @pearynice @wheneverfeasible

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots @chameleonhair @hbyrde36 @bookworm0690

This is my last post for the steddie spooktober!! Ty so much to everyone who has read and interacted!!!!

It’s been a feat and I can’t believe it’s over, but it really gave me something fun to focus on this month! which has helped me deal with the stresses in my life immensely. Ty so much @steddie-spooktober for hosting! Mwah!

[ruruvxz]

hello! new reader here. i think hanni would write romantic love songs!

“My Dearest Clementine”

Hanni Pham x fem!reader

↳ synopsis: You and your overachieving (ex)girlfriend broke up, but little did you know, she still hasn't gotten over her little clementine. And what's better than food to get into a woman's heart? A good serenade.

↳ cw: foul mouth reader, reader once again is lowkey so mean, breakup, established relationship, comfort, fluff

↳ word count: 2.1k

a/n: omg my first ever anon, im tweaking out, but i agree she definitely would make/cover love songs about reader. and she’d put her whole heart into the performances too… she’s such a cutie pie nfgagggghhhhhh fun fact this was originally a jihyo fic but then i thought really hard, and decided on not making it about her. oh and this is song is clementine by grant perez heheheheh

Skimming through the channels, you really couldn't help but be so agitated by everyone broadcasting this god-awful music show. "God, do these people only watch one thing, and why does it have to be music shows of all things?" You huffed to yourself, whilst aggressively mashing the poor remote. To be honest you'd be the first one to admit that you did enjoy all the award shows and music festivals. Hell, you've even been to your fair share, but do all these channels have to screen the same thing?

It's been the same MAMA award show on almost every channel, even networks that talked about important news, couldn't help but talk about it. Almost as if there wasn't anything else of importance to speak about, making your blood boil even more at the thought.

However, your visceral hatred for music programs wasn't always like this, well, not before at least. You used to adore watching the latest performances, always admiring the work put into performing on stage. It came to the point where you'd buy tickets for venues near your apartment. Despite not always recognizing everyone performing, you'd always sit through every performance, all the while waiting for that one special person to take the stage. Embarrassingly your true intentions were to go watch your then-girlfriend, Hanni, and cheer her on from the sidelines.

That was before, and now, the one who you called your one true love, had just recently shattered your heart into pieces because of work.

All the memories of her loving presence came back flooding into your mind, like how she'd escape practice using Minji's help just to find herself wrapped around your arms. Everything was just too much, the fact she would leave you to save face just enraged you further. "Argh! I am not about to reopen old wounds! Leave me alone you— minx!" You yelled at the screen, before throwing profanity after profanity, like some madwoman trying to stop the voices in her head. At this point, your neighbors were on the verge of sending a wellness check to the apartment.

Your rage was at a tipping point when you saw her gorgeous face popping up on the screen. You held up the remote, ready to shatter the poor television by projectile throwing the remote at the screen. It wasn't until your phone started vibrating erratically that snapped you out of your female rage. Holding your hand out and snatching the phone from the coffee table, you put the speaker to your ear.

"Yeah? Who is this?" You asked curiously, taking a mental note of how the caller's number looked eerily familiar, summing it up to being a coworker.

"Hey, I know we aren't close, but my friend needs a favor." The woman on the other side spoke with a soft and soothing voice, it sounded familiar, though the loud sounds of chanting made it hard to decipher who was on the other end. Thinking for a moment, you took your gaze out from the phone and to the television screen, biting your teeth as you saw New Jeans without Hanni nor Danielle. Sighing in relief you didn't have to see your stunningly aggravating ex-girlfriend.

Still reminiscing about all the times she's carefully and delicately peeled various fruits for you to eat without you even asking. You started to drift off thinking of ways to get her back, before snapping out of your pitiful daydreams, just to respond to the woman on the phone. "Uhm, not to sound round or anything, but who is this? I mean I'd love to do you a favor but—" You rightfully questioned, since this was just such a perplexing thing to ask someone, especially since you had no memory of them.

"Listen I’m…a friend of a friend...?" She spoke unsurely.

"Look, I'm really busy at the moment, I've got a maximum of 30 seconds before the next song starts..." The woman spoke, while you sat there still trying to puzzle together who she was. "It's just, my friend REALLY—" she exasperated the 'really' as much as her voice could. "Wants you to watch the MAMA performance today."

"What... I'm sorry, with all due respect, that's such an odd demand. I must emphasize that I don't know you, and you're not making the effort to state who you are." You commanded at the mic before the call closed, the woman on the other end not wanting to argue with you.

Before you could interrogate me further, the speakers connected to the television erupted loudly with my nose, the screams and praises abundantly clear. And of all the songs it could blast powerfully loud, it was "How Sweet" by NewJeans, but all that you could notice was Danielle throwing the phone to one of the staff before her muscle memory pushed through. (And that Hanni, who was previously sitting perfectly fine with the other members wasn't going to perform the song with them.)

As quickly as you comprehend the song was playing, you put down the volume to a bearable state. Admittedly you still felt a bit creeped out by that call, but then again compared to the phone calls and letters you received from crazed lovers, it wasn't the worst thing you've gotten.

Suddenly a sinister realization hit you, other than working, you didn't do much during your day off, only thing mildly interesting happening today on my day off was this fuck ass show. And if that caller's so-called "friend" wanted you to watch the performances, you'd do just that. So that's how you decided that you'd spend your precious time letting out your toxic rage on these performances in the comfort of your own home.

The time flew so quickly, and most if not all the artists were so enjoyable, but then, the performance you had dreaded the most was about to happen. However, a part of you was quite ecstatic to watch that dreadfully alluring woman fail miserably on stage. (But be honest, Hanni never does, she always looks perfect doing what she loves, not the mention how elegant she sounds when she sings.)

"God Hanni, even till this day you're insufferable. Fuck." You screeched, as the painfully beautiful memories of her flooded your brain, while all you could do was continue to shove chips into my mouth, eating them up with a bittersweet rage. But with your prior knowledge, before the performance started, the artists were given about a 10-minute break to get all the equipment and stage ready. So you were left with your heart racing inside your chest.

After a dreadful wait, you watched as the dim lights began to slowly light the stage with a warm spotlight, and the LED backboard displayed a beautiful orange orchard. It took you aback since Hanni’s most recent solo tracks never mentioned anything about flowers or fruits. You hated to admit that no matter what you still supported her career to the bitter end of your relationship, so every little detail about her was engraved into your mind. But oh hell, if it's a mess up, even better for you right?

"Ah, hello everybody. I hope you've been enjoying the performances today. Everyone is so good!—" Hanni spoke, the crowd roared at her words, and the camera flashed to her coworkers smiling proudly at her words.

"I understand everyone wants my more recent solo songs, but I wanted to showcase a new song. I made it about someone close to me." She continued, while even more mental anguish bubbled up inside your head by how she spoke so softly about the song, and how you assumed she moved on so quickly.

"I hope you all will enjoy this performance." That was the last thing she said before the backtrack began to play. It was a gentle stroke of a guitar before the other members of the band continued to play to the rhythm. The song continued as you leaned closer into the TV, using your remote to turn up the music playing from the speakers.

“Color it gray...” She sang, your heart thumping out of your chest, your mind drifting to the moments leading to your eventual fallout.

“Until I forget you

Like I never met you” The memory of her pleading you to forget about whatever connection you both shared because she didn’t want to drag your career down. Her tears still linger in your mind.

“My dearest, my dearest Clementine” She continued, looking back at the first time she ever spoke so dearly about you, using ‘Clementine’ as a term of endearment because you both cringed at the thought of calling each other ‘baby’ or anything of that sort.

“Color it gray

Until I forget you

Like I never met you”

“My dearest Clementine”

“Throw it away

But close enough to you” Her voice strained by her sorrow.

“Cause although I hate you

I will still fall in love, my Clementine”

“Every time, always”

“No matter how hard I try”

“My Clementine, every time”

You're always on my mind” She ended, fixing her gaze to the camera, looking longingly, as if she was looking at something— no someone through the screen.

You watched in disbelief as she closed up her performance, and walked off the stage, still wearing the matching dragonfruit and orange necklace you bought together. It was a few minutes sitting in utter bewilderment before getting a call on your cellphone. All you could do is weakly pick it up, while still being in complete shock at what you just watched, and without checking the contact you forced yourself to speak up, "Uh..." with a very long pause, you resumed "Hello."

"Clementine!" The voice on the other line spoke loudly, there was no other person who called me that sickening nickname other than the one and only Hanni Pham.

"I thought I blocked you!" You shouted defensively at your phone trying to get this woman to hang up.

"Yeah! But you never blocked Danielle since she never really messaged you, haha!"

"Just leave me alone you freak!" You argued loudly, "I'm hanging up on you Han—" Before you could press, block caller, you heard her scream from the other side.

"No wait!"

"You saw my performance right?"

"Uhm... I wouldn't say I didn't." You awkwardly admitted, still trying to avoid answering her questions.

You sat in awkward silence for a while before she spoke again, "Please, I know you— we weren't the most mature people, but please give me one more chance. I know I shouldn't be asking you on the phone…” You hear a faint sigh before Hanni carries on with her whole speech. “but I don't know any other way to contact you without you running in the opposite direction."

Rolling your eyes behind the phone, you took in a deep breath and analyzed the situation before making a very calm, calculated response. "No! Die in a ditch, Hanni! You dumped me! Then made a song with my nickname and aired it out to everyone!"

"No! No! No wait! Please! Clementine! That's the only way to get through to you! Please Y/N, I wouldn't be begging like this for anyone else."

"Ugh... fine! We'll talk about this later once you're done with work alright? Besides you shouldn't be stressed during award shows, it shows."

"Really?!" She questioned, a bit shocked that you would even give her the time of day.

"Yeah, whatever, don't overwork yourself."

"Thank you so much, I promise I won't, thanks for caring so much, even with everything I’ve done."

"Yeah yeah, you know my place, I'll cook something up, and bring you comfortable clothes, because I'm going to give you a piece of my mind."

"I should've expected that, don't worry, we'll talk, I promise, I’ll listen to whatever you have to say— and I promise I won’t make any more stupid decisions."

"Sure."

"I never break my promises clementine."

"Just— go back to work, Hanni! You're pissing me off, your sweet talk won't work on me this time, I'm gonna beat your ass no matter what."

"It was worth the try." She laughed before hanging up the phone, you swore you were gonna kill her when she came back home. But for now, you forced yourself off the couch and prepared everything for her arrival, after all, she never broke her promises.

[maggotzombie]

the day/night we met ; henry cavill

PAIRING — Henry Cavill x Reader (fem) SUMMARY — On your wedding day, your Maid of Honor prepares a special gift to which you and Henry have distinct responses. WORDS — 1,8k TW — nothing really just a lot of fluff, emotions (I cried a bit writing it), Henry in a suit 😈. A/N — Hi! I'm not dead, just quit the most toxic job ever so I'm getting back here lol Here's a short but very dear fic to me that I wrote last year but never posted. I'm so happy to finally post this! This story has been in my head for two years now and it came out better than I thought.

Song insp.: Eu Me Lembro by Clarice Falcão feat. Silva

— 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“ALRIGHT,” YOUR MAID OF HONOR smiles, carefully wiping her tears with a napkin. “After making you cry and potentially ruining some makeup,” The room laughs. “I’ve prepared something different to end this on a high note.”

This is one of the dearest moments of your life: your wedding. You’re marrying your soulmate. Your heart could burst with love and happiness whenever.

Everything’s perfect, from your dress to the lights of the venue. Henry – your newly proclaimed spouse – has an arm around you as you listen to your family and friends' speeches about you and your love.

You found it strange when your Maid of Honor wasn’t the first to speak, but it seems she has a reason for it. Immediately, you feel anxious, but in a good way.

“When these two told me they were getting married, I knew I wanted to do something special for them,” Your best friend starts. “I just didn’t know what, but I knew it had to be something remarkable, something for them to look back and have a good laugh,” She looks at the both of you with tears in her eyes, chuckling.

You also wipe tears off your eyes, smiling back at her, and Henry tightens his embrace around you.

“So I sat down with these two, separately, and started to ask a few questions,” She smiles and wiggles her eyebrows, which is an expression you know very well.

‘Oh my,’ You think. ‘What is she up to?’

“Things started to get really interesting from the start, and I decided to make a video out of it,” Your best friend winks at you. “Without further ado, enjoy it.”

With a pleasant smile, she sits down. The attention turns to the screens set around the venue.

You remember sitting with your Maid of Honor to chat about your relationship. You didn’t really understand why she wanted to do that. However, it always has been effortless talking about Henry, and you brushed it off as having something to do with the wedding.

You recall having a great time answering her questions – drinks might have been involved beforehand, but the whole process was surprisingly professional.

Your friend’s face pops up on the screen as she introduces herself. “In this little video, I wanted to talk about our lovely couple’s amazing and fun story, especially the day they met,” She explains. “Newlyweds, I love you very much, and I hope you like this little something I put together for you.”

She blows a kiss and waves. Then in fancy lettering, “A love story” is scribbled on the top-left corner of the screen, and “A story of love” on the bottom right corner. You wonder why both phrases – which convey the same thing – are on the video, but the thought quickly slips your mind when your smiling face appears on the screen.

“State your name and occupation, please,” Your friend prompts on the video, but she’s out of the shot.

You roll your eyes amusedly. “What’s this, a trial? I’m innocent, your honor!” You giggle, making everybody at the venue laugh.

You answer the question anyway, and your name also appears written on the video.

“For the purpose of… this, I’m the bride?” It sounds like a question, and you make a face, unsure of yourself.

She never explained what the video was for, in your defense.

Right after you, Henry appears. “I’m Henry, and I am the lucky groom,” He smiles brightly, looking as handsome as always.

“So, tell me, how did you meet Henry?” Your friend asks, and your smile is instant as you remember that exact day as if it was yesterday. “How did you meet Y/N?” She asks him in the next scene, and his reaction is the same.

“I was hosting a brunch,” You start, your eyes unfocused as the vivid memory plays in your mind. “And it was morning when Henry arrived.”

When he reapers, you can tell it’ll cut back and forth between you. “I was throwing a party, and she was the one that came around. I think it was three in the afternoon,” Henry replies, quite differently from you.

You scoff mockingly, looking at him by your side. He chuckles, brushing it off with a shoulder tic before you turn back to the screen.

“And I said: ‘Hi, come on in, make yourself at home,’ You know, something of the sorts,” You shrug off.

Your betrothed chuckles in the video, scratching his chin in thought. “I was the one that said hello, but she didn’t hear.”

His comment makes the venue erupt in laughter. You meet Henry’s loving gaze again and squeeze his hand, making him bring yours up to press a kiss on your knuckles.

If your shared story had different and entertaining versions until now, it’d just get better!

After being asked about first impressions of one another, he replies: “She thought I was hilarious,” He says with such confidence that is endearing.

In your turn, you laugh and cover your mouth as if what you are about to say it’s an embarrassing secret.

“Oh my god, he wouldn’t stop talking! Like a lot!” You emphasize. “And I pretended to laugh the entire time,” You say very sheepishly before throwing your head back in laughter again. “That’s terrible. I feel like I need to apologize,” You add after your fit.

“Oh, I just remembered something,” He suddenly announces, and his smile is wide as the memory toy around in his head. “Her blouse was inside out,” He chuckles, eyes focused on a spot. “She’s so adorable and such a goof, isn’t she?” He looks back at the camera.

“He loved the way I was dressed,” You giggle, visibly shivering as you physically remember the feeling of him truly looking at you for the first time.

Your friend asks another question, changing the subject slightly, but Henry shakes his head.

“Yeah, the party was great! Everybody was having a good time, but I only remember searching for her when she wasn’t near me. Trying to get another look, you know?” He says.

In turn, you scoff. “No one was dancing! I don’t remember who was taking care of the music, but it was terrible!” Your genuine response makes the room fills with laughter another time. “At least everyone had a drink in hand and ate something.”

“Oh, yes. The food was wonderful. Everything homemade,” Your partner assures with a proud nod naively.

“I bought everything off Tesco,” You rushedly confess, throwing your head back in laughter again.

Back to the present moment, you’re wiping the new tears from the corners of your eyes due to laughter. You love the good energy around the room as your guests and yourself enjoy the video your Maid of Honor made.

Now you understand both phases in the beginning, and although you and Henry have very distinct versions of the day you met, you love both of them and the feelings they bring you.

However, something changes in the next second of the video. For the first time, on a split-screen, you two appear together.

“When I saw him, I knew it (When I saw her, I knew it),” You both say simultaneously. “She (He) was the person I’d spend the rest of my life with,” You continue.

Glancing at him, you’re surprised to see he’s already looking at you. Then you exchange a knowing look. It seems like you got on the same page in this part of the video.

“And that’s how I realized that life put him (her) in my life,” You say in unison. “On that Tuesday (Thursday) of September (December),” Your responses overlap with each other, drawing amused reactions from people.

“That’s why I remember everything, of every second,” Both of you state, which is downright ironic at this point. “Ask me anything that I remember.”

“I remember,” You proudly declare with a grin but, this time, by yourself.

And so does Henry. “I remember,” He nods with a beam.

The video ends there, and the room erupts in applause, whistles, and hollered praises.

Words couldn’t describe the dazzling feelings you’re experiencing if you wanted to. You can’t be more grateful to your friend for this treat either. And, of course, the man you now get to call your husband.

The spotlight of attention returns to you as you’re exchanging the most enamored gaze ever. Henry leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, making you close your eyes. Slowly, you allow all those remarkable sensations to wash over you.

When you reopen your eyes, you smile at him before looking at your Maid of Honor. “Thank you so much for this extremely thoughtful gift. We both loved it a lot.”

Henry confirms with a head gesture.

“Words won’t do justice to how much you’re special to me. I’m just so grateful I get to share such a special and meaningful moment of my life, like this one, with you,” Your voice cracks at the end, and you smile, trying to hold your tears at bay as you can see she’s doing the same. “So I can’t thank you enough.”

As the room gets loud with another round of applause and cheers, she smiles, mouthing an “I love you too” to you. Wiping your tears carefully one more time, you chuckle.

“Although, I only have one question,” You announce, making the room pipe down. “Was my blouse really inside out?” You giggle as you look back at Henry.

Your husband starts to laugh. “Yeah,” He confirms bashfully. “Yeah, it was,” He nods as your guests join you in laughter.

“Oh, God. I can’t believe it,” You shake your head in embarrassment. “I also would like to point out that my husband clearly has a lot of experience with interviews,” You remark, addressing the room. “I feel kinda bad after saying I was pretending to laugh at his jokes when he’s all loving and caring,” You rejoin your friends and family in fun.

“I do tell bad jokes,” Henry concedes in your defense. “I love how genuine you are, and you’re loving and caring to me, too,” You nearly melt at his famous Hollywood-star smile.

The sound of ‘aww’s’ fills the room. “You see what I’m dealing with?” You joke, making everybody chuckle.

You give him a chaste but affectionate peck on the lips. Your wedding coordinator decides it’s time for the first dance to open the floor to make your guests burn some energy after the buffet.

And so, feeling the most secure and happy while pressed against your husband’s chest with his arms around you, you swing slowly. By sharing the same air, the same space, and the same feelings, you can’t think of anything better.

It all started on a Tuesday morning in September for you. But for him, it was a Thursday afternoon in December. Now, it is a Saturday evening in November that you’ll never forget.

You will remember. Everything. Of every second.