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msschemmenti · 2 months

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valentines date auction

a/n: please do not fight me... i meant to finish and post this before valentine's days. i also started this like 9 months ago. i'm working through my drafts, bear with me please.

prompt: ava convinces the staff to throw a valentine's day fling to raise money for the school.

“So this year to bring in some extra money, I’ve come up with a brilliant idea. I think you’re all going to love it because it involves all of my favorite things.” Ava announced at the mic with a smile causing the teachers to roll their eyes.

“Get on with it.” Melissa called from her seat in the gym. Barbara leaned over to swat her thigh as a warning but Melissa wasn’t too worried about her when she felt the younger woman on her other side shaking with giggles at her comment. Y/n Y/Ln, Abbott Elementary’s new PE teacher. She’d been working there since the start of the school year and she was approaching her first year with Abbott. She’d somehow wormed her way into the core group of teachers at Abbott and she unknowingly wormed her way into the forefront of Melissa Schemmenti’s mind.

“We’re doing a Valentine’s Day Date Auction!” Ava grinned as she clicked to another slide on her powerpoint. “I’ll be auctioning off dates with our most attractive staff! And before you ask if this is legal, I don’t care. It’s for the children. So who wants in?” The room filled with concerned silence as no one made a move to sign up. “Oh don’t act like you people are getting dates on your own. This could be great for you,” At the continued silence Ava sighed, “Fine, the dates will be to wherever you like with a credit to handle the cost. It’s a free outing, people.”

There’s a bit more bite and people’s hands started to raise in agreement. Melissa and Barb both shook their heads as Ava wrote people’s names down. “I can’t believe anyone is agreeing to this.” Melissa groaned.

“Who’re you telling, girlfriend? My Gerald would never participate in an auction like this and that’s the only man I’ll ever go on a date with.”

“It must be so nice to not have to go through the whole courting stage anymore. It’s so exhausting trying to find a date nowadays.” Y/n grumbled crossing her legs as she leaned over to speak to Barb.

“Oh don’t tell me you struggle to find a date?” Melissa eyed suspiciously.

“Oh yeah. It’s hard out here. It’s so hard in fact that I will be the grand finale of this auction.” Y/n grimaced as both of the older women eyed her in shock.

“You’re up for sale?” Melissa asked incredulously.

“Not for sale, more like for rent.” Y/n corrected causing both women to roll their eyes. “Oh come on, it’s for a good cause and I get a free meal out of it. There aren’t really any cons. I could meet my wife.”

Barb seemed to be sold a bit on the idea, but the redhead was still on the fence. She and the PE teacher had been doing a bit of a flirtatious tango all year and she could never really tell if she was serious or not. Melissa had gotten to a point in her life where she really didn’t question who she was attracted to anymore, but she hadn’t figured out how to tell who was seriously attracted to her yet. Casual flirting aside, Melissa really didn’t know what Y/n’s type was. And she definitely didn’t have the guts to find out if she was her type. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see her auctioned off to some young philly broad.

“Plus it was either me or Gregory. He looked like he was going to have a heartattack when Ava asked which of us was going to seal the deal. I do what I can to keep you core teachers alive.” Y/n smirked with a final shrug. That caused both older women to chuckle, one easier than the other, but Y/n didn’t seemed to notice the confliction on Melissa’s face.

Once Ava was satisfied with the number of teachers on her Valentine’s Day Auction roster, she closed the meeting out and release the teachers to their evenings. She hurried down the steps of the steps of the stage to catch Y/n as she stood up from her seat next to Melissa.

“Y/n, how do you feel about dressing up as a construction worker?” Ava asked excitedly as she pulled up a picture on her phone.

“Absolutely not. You’ll be lucky if I show up in something other than a track suit.” Y/n said pushing the woman’s phone away from her face.

“What about-” Ava started.

“No.” Y/n cut her off with her best smile. She reached up and patted Ava’s shoulder with a shake of her head. “Keep asking and I won’t show up at all.” That last threat seemed shut Ava up with a grumble. She sulked off with her roster and headed for her office as everyone readied themselves to go home for the night. Y/n looked at the two veteran teachers with smiles, “Alright ladies, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Have a great evening.”

“You too Y/n.” Barbara smiled as she head for the door, Melissa trailing behind a bit as she caught the PE teachers eyes.

“See ya kid.” Melissa called, causing the younger teacher to shoot a wink over her shoulder as she moved to help Mr. Johnson clear the chairs from the gym. Melissa’s cheeks heated as she rounded the corner out of them gym and fell in step with Barb. They briefly parted to lock up their classrooms and when they hit the couple of steps outside of the school Melissa was shocked for the second time within the last hour.

“So are you gonna bid on Y/n or tell her how you feel before the auction?” Barb asked with a knowing smirk.

“What?” Melissa asked incredulously trying to hide the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Oh don’t play dumb with me. You’ve been all but drooling over her for the better part of the school year. I don’t think I can watch it for much longer. This is your chance to make a move. She said it herself, she’s single and very much looking. So much so that she’s agreed to auction off and evening with herself. What can you need?”

“Maybe any sort of indication that she feels the same way? I mean yeah we casually flirt, but how am I suppose to pursue anything if the whole thing was just a joke to her?” Melissa scowled.

“I highly doubt that’s the case. Do you know how many times Ava has attempted to do that whole flirting thing with her? Or the amount of parents, suddenly concerned with the PE curriculum. She hasn’t shown anyone as much attention as she consistently shows you.” Barb listed as Gerald pulled into the lot next Melissa’s car. Barbara smiled and waved at her husband before turning to look at her friend, “You’ve got to make a move girlfriend, before one of these parents snatch your chance at the auction.”

Melissa grumbles but heads to her home to think over what her friend said. She hated how right Barb sounded.

The Valentine’s Auction came much sooner than anyone was ready for. The morning of the event seemed to have the entire teachers lounge buzzing with excitement and trepidation. Janine, ever the chatty Kathy had taken to questioning everyone on what they planned to wear tonight. As soon as Y/n entered the room, Janine was up and buzzing.

“Oh Y/n! What are you wearing tonight?” The shorter woman bounced on her heels next to the PE teacher as she doctored up a mug of tea.

“Why? What have you heard?” Y/n asked suspiciously, hoping Ava hasn’t somehow told everyone about her costume ideas.

“Well I just want to make sure I’m not the only one wearing festive things. And I wanna make sure we’re not wearing the same thing of course. Wouldn’t want the fashion police to have a ‘who wore better’ moment.” Janine rambled and Y/n nodded following as much as she could.

“Oh. I don’t know yet. I’ve got a couple pink tracksuits that might really draw people in.” Y/n chuckled taking her seat next to Melissa with a grin. “What do you think, is Nike sexy enough to secure a date with a Philly eleven like yourself?”

Melissa rolled her eyes at Barbs foot kicking her under the table, “I’m sure you could pull a Philly eleven wearing far less than a pink Nike tracksuit.”

Y/n smiled and winked at the older teacher before turning her attention back to Janine, “Listen Janine. I highly doubt we’ll be wearing the same thing but don’t worry, I’ll have something within the valentines color scheme on.” The second grade teacher nodded, heading back to her seat.

“So you’re both coming tonight right?” Y/n asked hopefully.

“Yep, Gerald and I will be there. I wouldn’t want to miss seeing you meet your date.” Barb smiled with raised eyebrows.

“How about you Red? Gonna be there to bail me out if some crazy bids on me?” Y/n asked.

“Anything for you, hun.” Melissa smiled, knowing those words held a lot more weight than she was letting on.

“Good. I’ll see you both later than.” Y/n smiled squeezing Melissa’s shoulder affectionately before heading to the gym.

“Welcome to the Avalentine’s Day Auction! We’re so glad you could all join us for our fundraising event this school year. As you know, Abbott is always looking for ways to better our school for your students and with that in mind, I hope you brought your checkbooks and rich friends because we’ve got some sexy staff members ready to go home with you all for a good cause.” Ava smiled looking out over the crowd.

As Ava stood on the stage, Melissa sat in a table toward the back of the room with Barb, Gerald, and Gregory. Jacob and Janine were off scoping the potential bidders out. She herself was scoping the room out as well, but she was mostly looking for Y/n. She hadn’t seen her since that morning and part of her was much more desperate to see her than she usually allowed herself. It didn’t help that she had brought her checkbook and knew a part of her was willing to drain her savings to keep Y/n from going out with one of these young broads. As if she realized she looked ridiculous scanning the room, Melissa turned back to her table companions. Janine and Jacob came back shortly after Melissa pulled herself from her own search. Janine panting out of breath and Jacob grinning mischievously ready to spill the details of their crowd search.

“There are quite a few people here. And we heard a lot of interest.”

“Interest in the two of you?” Melissa found herself asking. She didn’t mean to sound so shocked but it just came out that way. Both of the younger teachers shrank a bit but recovered when the redhead looked apologetic.

“Not exactly. Most of the women here are torn between being disappointed Gregory isn’t up there and excited that Y/n is. Speaking of, has anyone see her? I wanna see what outfit she went with.” Jacob said rising from his seat to scan the room. Oblivious to the panic he’d cause within Melissa.

“Oh there she is, damn! She cleans up nice.” Janine called as she drew the groups attention to the doors to the gym. And Melissa damn near forgot how to breathe. Y/n paused in the doorway scanning the room, for their group presumably, but she was dressed in something none of them had ever seen her in. Gone were her trainers, baggy sweats, and matching hoodie sets. She was clad in fitted high waisted trousers and a matching vest top that showed just enough skin to have Melissa’s mind running. Her hair was held back by a red head band that matched her red ankle boots and leather jacket. Melissa was at a true loss for words. Y/n spotted the group and started making her way over with a smile.

Before she could get too close Melissa felt Barb’s hand cup her chin and push up, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” She teased lightly causing Gerald to chuckle.

Tonight was going to be a long long night. And she knew in her heart she might leave broker than she already was.

“Alright ladies, this last one is for you!” Ava grinned as she motioned for Y/n to come up to the stage.

The PE teacher grimaced and looked at the people at her table nervously, “Wish me luck.” She called before leaving to be paraded around the stage. She made it to the stairs and as she came into the view for the room, the cheers followed. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment but she trudged on reminding herself of the cause and the prospect of a decent meal on Ava’s dime.

“Last but certainly not least. The finest thing to happen to Abbott Elementary since I became principal. Our PE teacher, Y/n Y/Ln! Strut your stuff boo!” Ava introduced causing the room to erupt further. And Melissa’s scowl to set.

“She’s very fit as you can see. Super funny and super hot. She could probably bench you. Let’s start the bidding at $50?” Ava started. That didn’t last long though. Hands and paddles shot up eagerly at the price. So far, no one had gone for over $150, but Ava had a feeling Y/n was going to be the exception.

“Can I get a $100 then? $150? $200?” Ava called and some hands dropped but there were still quite a few waving in the air. Ava motioned for Y/n to do a spin on the stage and she obliged if only to make the whole thing go a bit faster.

“Alright how about $300?” That seemed to do it and there was one hand left up. Y/n recognized her, Lauren Williams. She’d been one of the first people to schedule a meeting with Y/n when she started claiming her son had some health issues that may impact his participation in the gym class. After the first meeting, it was very clear her son had no problems and it was really just a ploy to get the gym teacher alone. She’d been dodging her since she started and she really wasn’t looking forward to how this was going.

“300 going once, going twice…” Ava called waving the bedazzled gavel she’d gotten herself. Until a familiar hand shot up at the back table. “I see 350? Alright Schemmenti, I see you.” Ava grinned. “Do I hear 400?” Lauren’s hand was back up, quickly. “450? Anyone?”

All eyes shifted to Melissa to see her contemplation before she waved her hand again and Ava squealed in delight. Everyone of the teachers at the table looked at her incredulously but her eyes were darting between Lauren’s head and the stage.

“450 going once, going twice, and…” Before Ava could even finish, Lauren shot to her feet and called out.

“500!” Everyone in the room looked at the woman in shock.

“What?” Y/n asked in shock. Eyes goes to Ava in alarm. $500 for a date with her was absolutely insane. Anyone willing to pay that had to b crazy.

“Sold!” Ava grinned. And the room erupted in applause.

Melissa was sulking in her seat when Y/n finally returned to table. She couldn’t believe she’d been outbid like that. Part of her was happy considering she wasn’t really prepared for the financial consequences of this little auction, but that didn’t make her forget the date Y/n would be going on with Lauren. Everyone else was scattered around the gym. Dancing with their dates, eating the refreshments, or playing the various valentine’s day them games that they had set up. The redhead didn’t look up when the younger teacher joined her but she knew exactly who had joined her even without looking.

“Damn red, if you wanted to go out with me that bad you could’ve just asked me. I wouldn’t have charged $500 for one night. I might’ve made you cook for me, but five big ones is asking a bit much especially when I actually like you.” Y/n said taking a sip of the punch they were serving. Melissa gazed at the younger woman a little dumbfounded but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued to talk. “Lauren and I are gonna go mini golfing Saturday morning, yuck I know. But I was thinking you and I could do dinner Saturday, if you’re not busy. That way I can get that out of the way. Do you she’ll try to kill me? I’m a little scared and I know I said there were no cons but that was before she basically jumped on the table to ensure she could spend $500 on an hour of my time…” Y/n continued to ramble.

Melissa had no choice but to laugh as she listened. “Is this you asking me out?” The older woman finally interrupted, trying to play it cool.

“I didn’t think I needed to ask you formally, since you almost spent $1,000 to keep me from going out with someone else.” Y/n grinned as she finally faced Melissa.

“Oh you’re exaggerating now.” Melissa scoffed as her cheeks heated a bit.

“Well duh, who else can say they had a Philly eleven start a bidding war over them. I’m going to milk this as much as I can. I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. Melissa Schemmenti almost emptied her bank account for me.”

“Oh shut it will you.” Melissa groaned and shoved the younger teacher playfully. “The answer is yes. Even if you don’t think you need to ask me formally. I’d love to do dinner Saturday night. And any other night you’d like.”

“Good. Cause I can be very hungry. And all I’ve heard is that you’re like the best cook in Philly.” Y/n grinned scooting her folding chair over closer to Melissa’s.

“Oh you’re in for a treat. And a Schemmenti meal is worth well over five hundred bucks.” Melissa teased.

“Yeah, well so are you Red.” Y/n smiled softly leaning over to kiss Melissa’s blushing cheek sweetly.

Outbid but extremely happy.

#lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary x reader #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #msschemmenti

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princessbrunette · 1 month

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he always promised to take you on more dates when he got out of jail, and jj was a man of his word.

a gross, seedy dive bar on the outskirts of town wasn’t exactly what you had in mind — but jj was all over it. he was said to have been locked up with a couple of the guys that work there now, and would be able to score the two of you a couple of free drinks, and that was enough to convince you. plus, you didn’t really care where you went with jj — you were just happy to be able to spend time with him again.

“look, if my probation officer has no problem with me bein’ here, it’s clearly safe. you got nothin’ to worry about — i know these guys.” jj grins reassuringly, noticing your unsure expression as he opens the door to his truck for you. “now would i bring you somewhere if i wasn’t one thousand percent sure you’d be alright? no. that would be like, neglecting my duty of care for my girlfriend. just wasn’t raised that way, mama.” you raise an eyebrow as he loops an arm around your waist, walking you towards the door — internally questioning what he meant considering he practically wasn’t raised by anyone.

there’s a chorus of his name when he walks in and you shy to his side, clinging to his arm. he meets and greets, before the attention is turned to you, smiling bashfully through the ‘and this must be the famous girlfriend. you know we thought maybank was lyin’ about you.’ along with all the usual banter.

the real fun doesn’t start for a few hours. the place has cleared out a little, and you’re a couple of drinks in, feeling a lot more loose and comfortable. your boyfriend nurses the same beer he’s had for a while now, making a conscious effort not to go over the legal driving limit because he could not afford to get sent back into the slammer over something so dumb. for entertainment, the two of you are stationed at a pool table in some dimly lit corner, feeling your body get hotter just at the blonde explaining the rules of the game.

“you wanna hit this ball with this ball, n’get it into this hole. i already know you’re gonna be a pro at this, okay — i have full faith in you.” he chuckles, because you both know it’s likely not to be true. he passes you the cue stick, giving your ass a little pat in gesture to position yourself. “bend over the table a lil’ f’me.” he instructs, eyeing the table before smirking at his own double entendre. “i know y’know how to do that, atleast.”

you bite your lip, containing your growing excitement — but can’t help yourself from making a real show of it, lining up your stick with the ball and really laying your body on the table to have your ass practically stuck in the air. whilst you’ve been tugging your mini skirt down all night, you finally just let it ride up to the bottom crescent of your ass cheeks. the cherry on top was the way you glance over your shoulder, pouting your glossy lips.

“like this, jayj?”

he’s glancing around the room for any watchers before cementing his vision to the sight of your panties peeking from beneath your skirt. “yeah, yeah just like that actually.” he’s distracted, and shakes himself out of it to lean over you and adjust your hand placement on the stick. “there y’go, atta girl. like i said, total pro.” he praises and to retaliate, you press your ass into his crotch making him clear his throat. “dont start sumn’ you can’t finish, lil girl.” he chides teasingly, as he backs up a little, eyeing you — but you can tell he’s getting wound up.

“not doin’ anything.” you smile impishly, practically waving your lace panties at him as your skirt rides up even more. he steps closer protectively, looking around as he scratches beneath his nose — making sure no one else can get a peek.

“nah? well in that case, don’t mind if i do…” his eyes are flitting round still cautiously as a hand slips between you, skilfully forcing your panties aside and sliding his fingers through your glossy folds. he smirks, brows jumping up and his tongue poking out to fiddle with the corner of his mouth. “oh? wha’s got you so excited mama? i dunno you must really like playin’ pool. you’re soaked.” he teases, licking his lips and leaning down to speak to you a little quieter. you pretend to continue lining up your shot, but your hands get shaky and you can’t keep the cue stick still.

“just happy to have my man back.” you admit sweetly which is the final straw for him. he pulls your skirt back down and steps away, making a real show of licking the residue of his fingers.

“right, right — y’know i hear the bathrooms here are like, super spacious. we should pro’lly go check it out, right? see what all the hype’s about.” he nods casually, helping you stand up straight.

“but jj, what about our game of pool?” you pout theatrically knowing you don’t really care. he turns to you, cornering you against the table.

“well i mean, i’m suggesting the bathroom out of respect. trust me, i got no issue gettin’ all in those guts right here on the table infront’a everyone. s’your call, babydoll.” he thumbs at your chin and your lashes flutter as an immediate response, feeling your mind go to mush.

“uhm… bathroom.” you agree shyly and he nods with a simple smile, patting your cheek.

“tha’s the spirit cupcake. that pool table ain’t goin’ anywhere.” jj commends, leading you by the lower back to the glowing bathroom sign on the wall.

#heard you guys missed criminal jj #jj maybank prompt #criminal!jj #sakuragifs has the best gifs

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kunikuyu · 3 months

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A punishment...?

F. Toji x Male! Reader x F. Megumi (Separately)

Warning: Dub-con, partially dark content, everyone here is of legal age, dom!bottom! Reader with sub!top! Megumi. dom!top! Toji with sub!bottom! Reader. There is no incest. Toji is a bit of an... Asshole guy here. He clearly doesn't care about his son's feelings. Toji is mischaracterized.

Summary: It was Megumi's 19th birthday, and [Name], like the great boyfriend he is, decided to prepare a surprise for the guy he loves so much. He had been wanting to do this for so long, and now he can, because Toji, Megumi's father, wasn't there. Well, he was wrong.

It was at night, 10 p.m. to be specific. [Name] was having his perfect moment with his boyfriend. It was a romantic moment, and there was no better gift he could give to the boy he loved so much.

The bed creaked softly, soft cries could be heard, accompanied by whimpers of overstimulation. Megumi was on top of [Name], while the older boy gently caressed his thighs, trying to get Megumi to relax. The birthday boy's hands pressed against his boyfriend's chest to seek balance, while scratching gently. [Name]'s eyes couldn't even stay open for long, even though he wanted to enjoy the view in front of him, the sight of his boyfriend whimpering as he tries to ride him harder.

The house was completely silent, much to [Name]'s happiness, as that meant they were still alone. But not for long. He continued to encourage his boyfriend by squeezing his thigh and massaging his waist. [Name] had luck on his side today as Toji wasn't home and probably wouldn't be back anytime soon. It would be bad to fuck his son while he's at home, right?

But...

No one had noticed, because they were too busy with their business, and even if they hadn't been busy, they wouldn't have felt his presence... Two silent knocks on Megumi's bedroom door, which if they had been heard, could have prevented a lot of things.

The two look surprised at the figure standing in the bedroom door, they already knew who it was. They were caught without even having a chance to escape... They don't know what Toji's reaction will be. It must be shocking to see your son having sex with another guy, right?

"You" He points to Megumi, with a disdainful voice, but deep down, you can hear a tone of lust. "Get out of here now." The boy doesn't want to go out, leave his boyfriend looking like he's clearly going to make mincemeat of him? He's not that cowardly. But, [Name]'s hand squeezed his, showing that it was okay to leave him alone with Toji.

The boy stands up, eliciting a soft moan from [Name] as he feels his already overstimulated cock come out of Megumi. Both of their faces burned red, what an embarrassing situation. The reason they were both embarrassed was obvious, but [Name] was embarrassed for another reason... Anyway, Megumi puts on his black hoodie to cover his nakedness, and before leaving, he murmurs, already feeling more confident.

"Don't you dare hurt him. I'll never forgive you if you do that." But he only heard a laugh in response.

Less than a second after Megumi leaves the room, the door slams shut and is locked from the inside out. [Name] barely had time to put on some pants as Toji was already on top of him. What a situation, completely naked, pinned against the bed by his boyfriend's father, while he thinks he's going to get the biggest beating of his life. But he needed to confess, being beaten by a man like Toji didn't seem so bad... No, he couldn't think about something like that, he already has a boyfriend. Plus, Toji sure doesn't like him.

"I can understand why my son chose you." He says in a low voice, while gently licking the youngest's neck. The young man's eyes widen at this, he wasn't expecting it at all. Still, He was too incredulous and surprised to say anything. Toji's knee lightly rubbed against [Name]'s erection, eliciting sly moans from him.

"S-stop it, I'm your son's boyfriend, dude!" In return, he only receives a light slap on the face.

"If you really wanted me to stop, you would have started kicking yourself by now, don't you think?" That's all he says, before starting to take off the pants and underwear he was wearing. [Name] almost fainted when he saw the size of that guy, it was definitely much bigger than his, he definitely wouldn't fit inside.

And when [Name] thought about using lub... Well, Toji had already positioned himself there and was clearly not going to help the younger boy. Maybe this is punishment for fucking his son. To make matters worse, Toji left him in a very uncomfortable position, in a mating press.

"Nghh! Ah, ah~"

That was all Megumi could hear. He was worried, almost crying in despair because he had already understood what was happening. His father was actually able to do this to his boyfriend...? Right on his birthday... Everything was completely ruined by his father. He is burning with hatred, he can't even describe it in words. And unfortunately, he can't get in there, the door is locked and he wouldn't stand a chance against Toji.

Well, while Megumi was worried, [Name] didn't even know what to feel, he just knew he was on the verge of fainting. His dick just dripped drops of cum, as he had already climaxed several times. His mouth was leaking drool and his face was completely red. His lips were bitten and were constantly kissed. The only one who was perfectly fine was Toji, and he was the one who took advantage of the situation the most. And how could it not? A cute boy with this one in his hands, just being used as a cum dump. He didn't even care anymore if the young man was his son's boyfriend.

The bed seemed like it was going to break at any moment, and the neighbors were clearly going to complain about the noise, but it's okay, Toji will deal with it tomorrow. It's been a while since Toji has had to make do with cheap prostitutes, but now, he has the perfect person to satisfy him, and he's not going to let this opportunity pass him by anytime soon. His cock was quickly moving in and out of the boy, who no longer felt any pain, he just felt his prostate being crushed every time by Toji's disproportionate size.

It was already 3 p.m. when Toji finally decided to give [Name] a rest. Various positions were tested, and the bed was filled with the liquid they both gushed out as they reached their climax. The young man clearly won't be able to walk for quite some time.

The two kissed in a disorganized way, as [Name] barely had the strength to move his tongue. He moaned softly when he felt Toji's length come out of him, feeling an emptiness in his body. The older man just put on his coat and pants, a small smile on his mouth. Toji clearly doesn't regret doing it, he doesn't care and he would do it again.

He opens the door and goes into the living room, approaching his son. "You have good taste, congratulations.” He was clearly making fun of his own son after fucking his boyfriend for hours. He grabs his keys and leaves the house, without looking back, as if it were all a joke.

Megumi runs back to his room and locks the door so Toji can't come in anymore. He doesn't even bother to turn on the light, and just runs towards his boyfriend.

"...I'm sorry..."

He sits on top of his boyfriend to hug him. Megumi doesn't normally like hugs, but he wants to be comforted and he wants to comfort his boyfriend. [Name] hugs him back. He barely had the strength to speak, and even if he had, he wouldn't say anything, because he wouldn't have the courage to say he liked what happened, even though he was forced to do it at first.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #smut #spotify #jjk #toji x male reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x male reader #SoundCloud

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agustdef · 10 months

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Will You

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Black!Reader

Genre: Fluff; Idol AU/Idolverse

Word Count: 3k

Warning: Light Language

Rating: PG-13

Beta Reader: @hobeemin

A/N: This was due to idk and I have so many ideas that I simply didn’t write a ff that ended up posted for much too long. So here’s to hoping to finishing these ideas.

“And without further ado, I am more than happy to introduce you to our keynote speaker Ms. YN LN.”

Clapping fills the room, and Jungkook joins in a beat late. His mind wandered as he’d listened to the other speakers for almost an hour. They’d all had interesting things to say, but something about being in a room with all these people with a person at a podium felt too much like school. Plus, a few of them seemed just to enjoy hearing themselves talk.

He refused to admit that to YN, though.

His beautiful girlfriend tried to give him an out when he said he’d come with her for this event. Told him how boring it would be and that she didn’t mind if he just did something else until she was done. Of course, he pushed for it, and she relented with one final warning about how he’d be bored as hell. To a degree, he’d known that going into it, but he wanted to support her. And to see her in her element.

Though they both work in the same industry, they’re on different ends of it. Jungkook as an artist and occasional writer, while YN worked legal. Their first encounter was when an American artist friend of his invited her out to dinner as a thank you for helping him with a contract issue with his label. They’d made him promises and tried to backtrack when it was time for the new contract. YN worked at a firm that specialized in that kind of thing, though they usually worked with smaller artists. His friend had been her big break, bringing in business and a promotion.

Of course, Jungkook was too much of a punk to ask her for her number at that meeting. He was too nervous about if it was forward, and he didn’t want to mess with the mostly professional nature of the event. But he got her card, and that was enough.

Until they kept bumping into each other at the more business-like industry events. Well, half bumping into each other and the other half him hunting down her name on programs and making sure to show up to those panels or events. It made him feel like a little bit of a stalker, but to combat that, he finally got his shit together and asked her out after running into her at a restaurant.

Grateful to not be turned down was an understatement.

As they got to know each other, he felt himself fall hard and fast. She was perfect. Not in how one thinks when they hear the word, but in how that worked for him. That made their relationship work through the lows as well as the highs.

I love you slipped out of his mouth five months in.

If that didn’t explain why he put himself through this boredom, nothing, else would at least not in a way that made sense. His members still sometimes looked at him crazy with how he felt about her and how he could only sometimes find the words to explain it in a coherent way.

“I promise to try not making this too boring for y’all. I can not, however promise it won’t be boring at all. My line of work has to have some pitfalls besides all that paperwork,” YN joked.

The entire room laughs. It’s not the funniest thing in the world, but the way she delivers it and the energy she exudes as a person gets to people. It’s why Jungkook lets out a laugh that’s a little too loud and draws the attention of those around him. And of YN, though she doesn’t look his way to make that clear. He just nose from the way she pauses for a second longer, and her smile widens.

Embarrassed isn’t even the right word for him at the moment. Part of him wants to flee the room, but he stays in his seat. It helps that anyone who side eyes him switches to being shocked to see him there. Being identified as a member of BTS is what he can handle; being embarrassed is not, despite what his variety show content and the lives over the years might suggest.

To let the feeling pass, he focused on the stage. Well, on YN.

“For those who don’t know me, I’m YN LN, and I've been working at Heights Law for the last six or seven years,. We specialize in fair contracts for indie artists. From things with their label to tours, merchandise, the people they hire, and even contracts between members if it’s a group. About thirty-five percent of those we work with don’t even have a label they’re signed to and don’t want to. And then about twenty percent of our clients are more mainstream artists looking for the same services.

We don’t work with any sort of label because we feel it ties us to worrying too much about keeping on their good side when trying to figure things out. And while we are not on a mission to do anything that would be, for the lack of a better word, line crossing with the people we are trying to get to sign the contracts, our clients come first. That’s made us stand out in a way y’all may have heard about a time or two. I’d like to personally apologize for making you sit through articles about a certain label trying to screw over up and coming artist Minx and all the weird things that were honestly not so weird about her tour rider.”

Again laughter, but with some whispers and grumbles thrown in. That entire situation had everyone in the industry confused as hell, and for the last few months, they thought Minx was trying to be greedy until everything was settled and it was shown that all her asks weren’t as crazy as they’d seemed. Even Jungkook found himself looking at YN like she’d lost it with every new bit of information that was released. He’d asked her about it, but she gave him a look, and he had to wait out the outcome like everyone else.

“And for this, I think Minx is the perfect situation to discuss. I mean, when else will you see how things can go when a former lawyer turned pop star wants to sign with the label she used to work for but knows all their tricks.”

That was all it took to have people enthralled. After everything settled, everyone still had a million questions about it, but they were still waiting for someone at the firm to answer them. Jungkook had the fortune of dating YN around the time, so he got her to tell him, and Minx had invited them somewhere and told him more. So, he knew everything.

Which meant he could just stare at her. He didn’t think of himself as the type to be much of a creepy person, even if him trying to run into her wasn’t a clear indication of that. That and that looking at her was one of his favorite pastimes.

YNs cute.

He would and did use a million words to describe her. But the first thought in his brain when he saw her was how cute she was, and he felt his heart triple in size from that alone. Her genuine smile and soft features do a lot to counteract the fact that she’s only an inch shorter than me, which throws people off when they meet her and had only seen her face before.

Those legs of hers, when she wears heels, drive Jungkook absolutely feral. And he has to fight off the thought of them as his mind spirals. He focused instead on the light tint of pink pushing through the brown skin because of all the bright lighting, the way there’s a stray piece of hair not as curly as the rest that she swears isn’t from heat damage, and she can fix, the soft red of her lips, and the way every part of her body seems light and open as she talks about a subject she loves. A look he’s familiar with and is how he knows she looks at him.

More than anything, Jungkook is sure that YN loves him as much as he loves her, and like a revelation, he knows how much that is. How much space that love takes up in him, to the point that sometimes it feels like it’s overflowing. Right now, it feels like it’s overflowing.

“Questions?”

That one word pulls him out of his head, but he looks at YN with a clarity he didn’t have a few minutes ago, let alone a few hours ago.

Someone clears their throat, but his eyes don’t leave her.

“Why not just go with what the label wanted? I mean, sure, Minx had the background, but that shouldn’t make her any different than any other artist. Should she not be thankful to get into the place twice on different sides of it?”

There was agreement in the crowd, but it died out quickly with everyone else's quietness drop quiet.

Despite the shift in vibes, there’s a smile on YN’s face.

“Why do you think that? Is it because others don’t have that same knowledge? I can see how that could be seen as unfair because it is. But because she has the background,, she used it to help herself best,, which made it so we could best help her and those in the future. However, I can assure you that they changed their contract language a lot since then. Height and many other firms who deal with them and this kind of thing all saw a shift for the better and for the worst with them. So, while you may wonder why Minx didn’t simply take what she should be lucky to have gotten from them, I hope you’re settled by the fact that unless the rare thing happens. Someone else does the same thing, no one else will be able to give the insight on how to best make the next contract work for the client in the way she did.”

The response is assertive, sarcastic, and professionally annoyed. It doesn’t leave room for anyone to say anything that doesn’t make them look any more like an ass. But the man at the podium opens his mouth a few times to try and figure out what to say. In the end, he walks away from the mic with his head down. Jungkook is sure that if it weren’t for pride, he would walk out of the room altogether.

“Any more questions,” YN said after a moment.

There’s one that Jungkook has. One he needs answered, but he finds himself glued to his seat.

Several people go up and ask their questions, all of them better than the first one, though some of them toe the line. There are also a few that Jungkook would deem flirting, but they don’t bother him. Not with the thoughts swarming around in his head.

Before he knows it, she answers the last question, and everyone is dismissed. A few linger to talk, but with this day being so packed, everyone wants to rush off to the next talk or event happening.

He sits in the seat for about fifteen minutes before she walks up to him, and when she puts her hand on his shoulder, he looks up at her startled, even though he watched her approach him.

“Ready to go?”

Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes as he stares at her. He feels all over the place, but none of it’s uncertainty or doubt.

“I have a question,” he managed.

“Huh?”

“I have a question. I didn’t get the chance to ask it in there. I was… I’m nervous to ask it, and I couldn’t do it in there.”

YN frowned. “You can always ask me anything, my love. No need to be nervous about it. Plus, I’m sure yours is better than some of the bullshit I get asked in general when it comes to work.”

For a moment, Jungkook says nothing. All he can do is stare at her and try to keep his breathing normal. The latter is the hardest part, but YN takes his hand in hers and squeezes it tight.

Taking a breath, he gets to his feet, takes both of her hands in his, and stares into her eyes. He’s more than sure about what he has to say.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Question nor answer was said with any hesitation. However, Jungkook could tell that YN was still trying to process what was happening. He was too, but that wasn’t important now.

After a second, Jungkook released one of her hands, and with the other firm in his grasp, he led her out of the room. He hears her ask a question, but it doesn’t fully register in his brain. All his focus is on weaving through the crowd of people and out the door of the convention center. The place isn’t as isolated as some can be, so he walked past the parking lot where his car is and made his way past the hotel they were staying at.

“Where are we going?”

“Jungkook?”

“Jay?”

There’s a loud exhale too, but Jungkook paid it no mind. He’s on a mission.

“For goodness sake, Kookie.”

YN matches his pace though she’s clearly confused by what the hell is happening. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t find his words just yet, so he kept walking until ten minutes later, they were in front of a popular celebrity-use jewelry store.

A few of the things he bought for himself and others - YN included - were from here, so he had a code that they gave him to get in. The door buzzed them in, and the moment that they walked in, there was a person there and ready to help. Though it might not be obvious to most, it was clear from the knowing smile on the woman’s face she knew what was up.

Didn’t stop Jungkook from being so flustered, though.

“Hi. Engagement rings. I mean, we would like to see engagement rings.”

Without a word, she directed them to the back of the store. They followed close behind her, and when they entered the room, she’s taking them to another person is setting down a tray of rings, with others sitting on a cart behind him.

Yeah, she knew.

Once everything is on the table, the man leaves, and they’re directed to sit. The woman who welcomed them stands on the other side of the table.

“This is a collection of all the rings we sell in the store. Though there are others, we can have custom made if what you see in front of you isn’t the right fit or you want a mix of styles. There’s a mix of the traditional sort and the non-traditional. Some are even without diamonds. Please, take your time to look through them and see if something catches your eye.”

Then she’s gone, and all the sound goes with her.

“We’re doing this?”

“You asked me.”

“True.”

Jungkook finally turns and looks at her, and despite all the nerves he’s feeling about if she’ll take it back, there’s a smile on her face. And a lack of anxiety like what’s going through him. Though he can tell, she’s a little thrown off by it all.

“I did. And I want to.”

“Then we better start looking, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

All the tension that was once there leaves the room, and they both turn their attention to the hundreds of rings in front of them. It’s an overwhelming site, but they dive into them. Jungkook tries to get YN to try some on, but she says that she doesn’t want to just yet, so they set them on the empty tray right in front of them.

Each one feels perfect to Jungkook, but not right. More of the diamond rings that look how he’s used to seeing American engagement rings look like end up on the tray, which isn’t much of a shock with YN’s usual preferences.

A tray marked as morganite is second to last, and Jungkook almost avoids it, but then one ring calls to him. His eyes zone in on it, and he reaches for it just as YN gasps. His neck nearly breaks when he turns to look at her, but the slight pain means nothing as he follows her gaze to the ring he was reaching for.

Without another thought, he picks it up, takes her hand, and slides it into place. Though it’s a little loose, it fits her finger. The oval champagne colored gem is on a white gold band and surrounded on either side with diamonds that fan out, almost like leaves on the stem of a flower. They wrap perfectly around her finger and stop before they reach the palm side. Everything about it is YN. Is them.

“Perfection,” YN whispered.

“Yeah.”

And like the whirlwind that this was, Jungkook was happy to find that they had the same ring, the right size, on the premises, and he paid for it right then and there. It only left YN’s finger so they could clean it, and then it was on again.

They walked out of the room, and both were on a cloud. All those nerves Jungkook felt before were gone, but something else replaced it.

“I guess we have a wedding to plan. I can’t imagine when we’d even have it,” YN said.

“Now.”

Not the least bit startled, she turned to him with a raised brow.

“Now?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe?”

Silence sat between them for what felt like forever, and then YN turned her attention back to the jeweler.

“We need to see wedding bands, too,” she said, then turned back to Jungkook. “And you need to start making phone calls.”

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naughtystiel · 9 months

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DEANCAS AU FIC REC MASTERPOST II

Here's another list of fics that I've read! They're all amazing, but the first two? They hold a special place in my heart because of how tender they are. If you decide to read them - prepare for an emotional rollercoaster.

You can check out the previous fic rec list here.

Happy reading! ♡

Restless wanderer

Just west of the town Porthgwarra, Cornwall, Robert Singer’s farm lies, a mess of ravaged land gaping out onto a fretting sea. Robert's orphaned godson, Dean Winchester, is named sole beneficiary of the farm - and though he hasn't seen his godfather in fifteen years, he travels across the Atlantic with his brother and half brother to care for Singer in his old age and tend to the farm. All of them hope to leave behind the squalor and famine of their old life.

What Dean meets is the bird-infested home of a widowed eccentric, and a new shepherd whom he can neither stand nor see any use for - stoic, rude and conceited, Dean plans to fire the mysterious and wandering Mr Novak the moment he comes into legal possession of the farm. But upon the shepherd's offer to teach him the trade, in anticipation of Dean replacing the man himself, Dean finds in the wild and roaming man a steadiness and certainty his own life has never yet contained. And one day Dean will have to ask, not tell, the shepherd to stay.

Down by the water

AU, set in 1853 — When Castiel loses everything dear to him due to a botched river crossing, including his supplies, livestock, covered wagon, and even his wife, he has no where to turn, no way to survive stranded in the middle of his journey. That is, until he meets Dean Winchester, who offers him a life saving deal: in exchange for help on his farm, Dean offers to provide much needed room and board. But how will this decision affect Castiel as he moves through his grief, and discovers feelings he never would have expected? Fighting with injury, pain, grief, and even the threat of death, Dean and Castiel find themselves in the one place they would have never expected: down by the water, struggling to accept their unforeseen love.

Dark side of the moon

Five months into his six month mission, an accident leaves Flight Engineer Dean Winchester stranded on the moon. It comes down to a man he has never met to bring him home.

Angel in the iron mask

Finally free of his actual shackles, Castiel finds himself in a situation a lot worse than being locked in the dungeon with an iron mask to conceal his face. The intrigues of the court will make his head ache, but it would all be worth it if he could just find a way to save the omega that had been enslaved to him.

Protect and serve

Sam Winchester is America's newest sweetheart. An in-demand actor and all around Boy Next Door. However, with his fame comes the need for protection. And Sam only trusts his older brother, and former beat cop, Dean, plus his best friend, Castiel Novak, to keep him safe. However, Castiel and Dean share not only a desire to keep Sam safe, but also a lot of friction between them. In an attempt to smooth the edges, Sam pleads with them to find a way to make things work. Castiel thinks Dean needs discipline. Dean thinks Castiel needs to lighten up. Together, they discover a lot more about each other than anticipated.

Playing with fire

When two best friends foray into a supposedly no-strings sexual relationship, someone is bound to catch feelings, someone is bound to fuck up, and someone is bound to beg for forgiveness; because that’s the recipe for a romantic comedy.

But life is not a romantic comedy, no matter how much Dean Winchester secretly wishes it was.

Instead, we present: Boy finds out boy, who has been his best friend for over twenty years, is secretly a Dom. Boy then sorta tricks boy into taking him on as his new sub. Boy discovers a side of himself he never knew existed. Boy is in way over his head.

Quarantension

In which Dean and Cas weather quarantine together like any Good Friends would — by developing outstanding skills in self-deception and providing all the casual affection and strictly platonic* orgasms the other could possibly need to make it through.**

*Really not platonic

**Spoiler: They need a lot.

Expectations

For centuries, the Winchester princes have taken omegas from the northern town of New Eden to bear the royal heirs before exiling them to the countryside - a punishment for a past dispute caused by the town's strict beliefs. When Prince John marries Lady Mary of Campbell and puts a Queen on the throne, however, most people assume the tradition has been set aside.

Thus, it's a complete surprise to Dean when he's sent to New Eden to retrieve the girl they've arranged for.

Cas, as a male omega in backward New Eden, has been ostracized and condemned by his town since he presented. To make matters worse? His sister is being given away to the crown prince of Winchester, never to return.

But when the morning before the prince's arrival dawns and Anna is nowhere to be found, the town's council decides there’s only one thing for it:

They’ll simply have to give him Cas instead.

It's the end of the world (as we know it)

The year is 1996, and Dean’s stuck in Kankakee, Illinois while Dad’s on a long-haul hunt. It’s not too bad. He’s even got a friend, now—even if Cas is a weird, gawky loner kid who gets way too intense about his sci-fi novels and doesn’t know how to stop staring. Just business as usual.

Until his dad comes back, and it isn’t.

The year is 2011, and the shadows known as ‘angels’ and ‘demons’ are falling from cracks in the sky, raining death, destruction, and monsters where they pass. When the Joint Task Force asks for their help in stopping the end of the world—John Winchester, his sons, and a ragtag band of hunters—well, that’s just business as usual, too.

Until Dean meets the cold blue eyes of their team liaison—Dr. Castiel Novak.

The meaning on my skin

Castiel Novak never wanted to be a Dominant. Living with the mark on his skin that designates him as one has haunted him every day of his life, and he goes to great lengths to avoid the part of his biology that he hates. When he makes the decision to get a tattoo with the intent of hiding his mark away, he meets Dean Winchester: tattoo artist and confident submissive.

Dean turns Castiel’s world upside down and subverts every expectation Castiel ever had about himself and his designation. Will Dean be able to teach him how to be comfortable in his own skin?

Roll with it

For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print.

That’s the dream, anyway.

Right now, he’s fucking late.

Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country.

‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

Stay in my arms (if you dare)

Grammy award-winning singer/actor Dean Winchester is on top of the world. His latest role has him tipped for an Oscar nomination and his life is damn good, thank you very much. That all comes crashing down after a series of death threats forces his manager, Bobby Singer, to hire a bodyguard. Bobby knows just the man for the job. Castiel Krushnic, former CIA field agent and the only person Bobby would trust to protect Dean.

Tensions are high and personalities clash from the first meeting, with Dean unwilling to change his lifestyle and Cas just wanting to do the job in peace. A series of events turns the pair into reluctant friends while both try to ignore their growing attraction for each other.

Dream house

Castiel Shurley and his best friend Dorothy Baum have decided to move in together. After his aunt assumes they are dating, she offers them money for the house, but only if they apply for a famous reality show ‘Dream House’. Since they could use the money and he doesn’t want to come out to his aunt, Castiel and Dorothy agree to fake date for the show. But things go wrong when Dorothy falls in love with the show’s producer and Castiel starts to develop feelings for one of the hosts.

Dean Winchester is a co-host of ‘Dream House’, along with his brother. Sam, being a realtor, finds a fixer-upper and Dean turns it into a perfect house for their clients. Even though he has what most people only dream about, Dean is incredibly lonely. He had bad experiences with relationships in the past and he doesn’t think he will ever meet anyone who can earn his trust. Until he meets Castiel.

I'll be good

Dean has always been the good guy. He made the hard decisions and rose to the occasion whenever his family needed him. He became a parent way too soon after the deaths of John and Mary Winchester along with Sam’s big oops moment. Resettling his entire life to Beaufort, NC for the sake of those he loves the most.

Now at 25 an opportunity to finally be good to himself has been delivered in the form of one gorgeous Castiel Novak. The new arrival to town is the worst driver Dean has ever seen. As the eldest Winchester strives to overcome several bumps along the road of life can he also help Cas to steer towards a happily ever after with him or will Novak’s turbulent past cause them to crash and burn?

In other words a BDSM love story.

Shatter me

Dean Winchester started his day in seven easy steps.

Step one: Survive attack from a giant drool monster

Step two: Shower and shave

Step three: Suck down a cup of coffee while walking the drool monster to her favorite tree

Step four: Feed and water the drool monster

Step five: Have a balanced breakfast of microwaved egos, six medications, and two more cups of coffee

Step six: Check his email and schedule for the day

Step seven: Pack the pup and himself a hearty lunch and leave for work

In none of these steps did it say: meet your soul mate, hate them on sight and cause bodily harm…. and yet.

Crashing in

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Partnered

Dean didn't think that his life as a detective could get much worse after Castiel was promoted to lieutenant.

Castiel was a stickler for the rules, had no sense of humour, and never seemed to give Dean a break, even though they used to be partners.

But then, despite all of their questionable history, the two are asked to go undercover on a case in the wealthy suburbs of California. . . as a married couple.

Lead by your beating heart

After a night of celebrating (heavy drinking) with his brother surgical intern Dean Winchester discovers that his resident, talented Cardio surgeon Castiel Novak, is...well a huge douche bag...kind of hot but still a huge douche bag. A douche bag that he's stuck with for the rest of the year, that's if he survives the year without Castiel killing him and making it look like an accident. So why is it that an easy friendship forms between the two men that swiftly becomes something Dean never expected to find when he moved to Chicago.

Bold will hold

All Dean Winchester wants is to open his own tattoo shop, which is why he signs up for Tattoo Gods, a tattooing reality show with a $100,000 grand prize. He also wants to avoid making an ass of himself on national TV, and he definitely wants to avoid falling for Cas Novak, another artist who’s not only his direct competitor, but someone he’s had an unspoken rivalry with since before he started apprenticing, and is just as ridiculously talented as he is stunning (and, as Dean comes to find out, kind and funny and passionate and sincere). Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes. Yes, it is.

Breathing into you

‘Beware the deep sea, that’s where the monsters come from.’ Dean had heard these words since birth, his father’s warnings shaping him into the man he is today.

That’s not the root of Dean’s hatred for merpeople, though. Twenty years after the day tragedy had touched the Winchesters’ lives forever as well as the end of the Great War between humans and mer, Dean is still haunted by that moment. But loving the sea is just as much a part of him as the dread for the merfolk, so when he isn’t working at the local bar, he is there, underwater, immersed in the vast blue his mother used to speak of in her bedtime stories.

Dean knows, however, that the sea can be as ruthless as it is soothing. When he is caught in the middle of a storm and faces the anger of the waves, the mysterious appearance of a stranger with blue eyes as clear as the waters Dean loves losing himself in forces Dean to question the truth behind his father’s old mantra.

Hot water

Castiel hated public showers.

In which Castiel is forced to use the company shower after hours and ends up doing unspeakable things he never thought himself capable of...

AU-fic containing mystery attractions and a lot of hot water.

I can make you scared

So this is how it goes. Best day of Dean Winchester’s life. Loses his job, finds out he’s been cheated on, gets dumped, all in the course of one fucked up Thursday. Drinking himself into oblivion is the natural response, right? A chance encounter in a dingy dive bar gives Dean a new friend who sees his problems and likes him anyway. Now, as Dean struggles to pick up the pieces of his life, Castiel just might help him put them back together in a way he never expected.

Fear of falling (apart)

In a world where D/s relationships are the norm and Chicago is caught up in a three-way mob war, Russian mob boss Castiel Krushnic makes John Winchester an offer he can't refuse: one that will make Dean Winchester his own.

Cuffed to an angel

Dean Winchester has a lot going for him: he's beloved by his students, he's finished writing his first book, and he's living comfortably in New York City. The only problem is... he's single. That wouldn't bother him much if his family wouldn't be visiting for the holidays. With cuffing season over, Dean has to face his family alone... or will he?

Castiel DiAngelo is a simple detective who hasn't really celebrated Christmas in over 9 years, holidays and family being a sore spot for him. But after taking Dean up on an offer, he finds that you can't really avoid the holidays.

Will these two be able to pull off a seminal holiday trope? Or will certain developments get in the way...

(don't) stop texting me

Castiel Novak is relatively happy living his solitary life as a Starbucks Barista. He lives alone with a cat named Hamburger, and he has one (1) emotional support friend, Gabriel.

Unfortunately, he is plagued by the fact that some guy (see: a random hot dude named 'Dean') is giving out Castiel's phone number as his own. And he's been doing it for months.

So, of course, when Castiel's at work and a hot stranger gives him his own phone number for the Starbucks Rewards Program... well... it doesn't go well.

Sweet boy

NOTE - nothing sexual happens between them until Dean's 18

Dean's sixteen when he meets John's well-to-do boss, Castiel Novak, and he's quick to develop a crush during a time where he's only begun to discover his preferences. He dates the beautiful Lisa and practically raises his younger brother Sam, because it's what John expects. But Castiel appears to see Dean in a way no one else does, and despite him knowing there's no way anything can happen between them, he relishes in the idea that Castiel cares at all for his well-being.

Between mounting pressures from a teenage Sam that no longer wants a caretaker, John's nudging for Dean to follow a career path he doesn't want, and a mysterious check for the exact amount of one semester at the school Dean had been eyeing, Dean finds himself reconnecting with Castiel.

And Castiel has a very interesting proposition for him.

Down time

It’s been said that Dean Winchester is a bit uptight but in his opinion being focused on producing quality work is nothing to be ashamed of. He would grudgingly admit he tends to get too worried about his work and schedule and that it’s beginning to wear him down. In a fit of work induced exhaustion, he decides to indulge in a deeply buried desire of his…

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theladyofbloodshed · 2 months

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Hunt x Nesta - Chapter 8

The sounds of the shower roused Hunt from sleep. Since Nesta had discovered that her cell could access music at any moment, she was unstoppable. A symphony blasted through the wall; violins were reaching their crescendo alongside a barrage of brass instruments that were accompanied by a flurry of percussion. Then the cannons came as she turned off the shower.

Releasing a groan, he rolled onto his side to check his cell. Eight messages. All from Nesta at various points in the morning whilst he still slept. Each one made him laugh.

‘Hey, when you text, you don’t need to write an address line or a sign off. I know it’s from you because I have your contact saved,’ he explained as she entered with a towel wrapped around her body.

‘What do you mean?’

Hunt motioned for her cell that was churning out another classical song. ‘What am I saved as?’

Nesta paused the music. ‘I don’t know. Plus five zero five eight two-’

He yelped like he’d been shot and threw himself down. ‘You didn’t even save my number? Do I mean nothing?’

‘I don’t know how.’

With Ruhn’s number, he showed Nesta how to save it. He pulled a photo from the web of Ruhn being arrested before he was legal to drink – of course, his daddy had the charges scrubbed but the photo remained – and saved him as the Prince of Pricks.

‘There, now try with me.’

A devious smile flitted over her lovely face as she stood in the middle of the room typing at the speed of a snail.

‘That index finger is getting quite a workout,’ he commented.

Surprising him, she raised her middle finger.

For the second time that morning, Hunt collapsed back onto the pillows, laughter rumbling out of him. ‘Who the Hel taught you that?’

‘We have that in my world.’ She flashed the phone towards him.

His contact name had been updated to Orion Athalar – my favourite angel along with as many emojis as the name would allow. The picture was of him shirtless with ridiculously fluffy wings.

‘You said you’d deleted those, liar.’

‘I’m leaving today. I need a memory to keep.’

‘You’re taking the cell with you to plug in where exactly?’

Nesta shrugged and pressed it to her chest. ‘I will invent electricity in my world so I can always look at these photographs.’

There was no doubt in his mind that Nesta could do anything that she set her mind to. He couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person she’d be if she stayed in Lunathion. They’d stayed up late in each other’s arms talking for hours; Nesta had wanted to know everything about him and the land she was leaving behind. They’d talked about university for over an hour with Nesta needing to know what could be studied, what the fees were, who could study, when it could be studied, and what happened upon graduation. Hunt had listened to her talk about Prythian but most of it left him seething. Nesta couldn’t tell him anything about the place she lived because they stuck her in a fucking house and cut off her funds so that she was entirely dependent on the king and his lackey. That one, Cassian, he’d quite like to meet so he could knock him into next week. She’d grown upset when she talked of her sister whose pregnancy would cause her death. Beyond kidnapping a couple of surgeons and a midwife, Hunt didn’t know what to do to help. The male, Cassian, who forced her on a hike as punishment for telling her sister the truth deserved to be punched. He didn’t like any of these fae males, but this one sounded like the worst.

He'd even come clean about Micah and the awful things he did to inch towards freedom. In a way, Hunt wanted her to be repulsed or to pull away then at least it would soften the blow of her departure. But this damn female just said that she understood why he did it and held him a little tighter.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?’

Nesta snickered. ‘Don’t tempt me, Hunt.’

It wouldn’t be that hard to adjust. He’d grown up in a time when technology was near enough non-existent then emerged from a dungeon and everybody had cell phones or were driving cars. He’d cope again going backwards. Anything was possible with her at his side. But maybe Hunt would cause a few too many fights with the fae that ruled her.

‘Just stop letting them put you in danger and using you. Or I’ll fly all the way there and kick their asses.’

Hunt sat her down on the edge of the bed to start drying her hair. She was nervous about him doing it although he thought he did a fabulous job of his own. Truly, he was desperate to do it. Nesta was leaving back to a world where the male that she was tangled with didn’t seem to care for her at all. He needed to show her that males could be gentle – that it was a choice not to be caring. He wanted to dry her hair and take care of her because that was a male’s duty – not fucking her then leaving with his seed still dripping from her.

Vik was expecting them when Hunt took Nesta through a private entrance into the Comitium that was strictly for workers only. Worker was laughable. The slave’s entrance was a better name for it.

‘The sword and the Harp as promised. And I don’t need to remind either of you that it would be a good idea for Nesta to return today, do I?’

‘No, mom,’ Hunt replied, kicking her boot lightly.

‘And I needn’t advise you that walking through Lunathion with a sword will likely have you arrested.’

Hunt frowned. ‘Danika Fendyr and Ruhn Danaan do it.’

‘They’re leaders of the aux and will be the heads of their species one day,’ Vik said.

Sensing Hunt was about to argue with Vik, Nesta rested a hand on his forearm. ‘I’d rather spend my last hours here with you rather than in an interrogation room.’

‘I’d still be there. We can play cops and robbers.’

‘Gross,’ muttered Vik before she turned back to her computer.

For once, Nesta had left most of her hair down. She’d pulled it from her temples with a twist and a couple of hair pins. Paired with a pale blue summer dress, she was utterly stunning. But his dreams of strolling through Lunathion with her again hit a snag when Micah’s name flashed on his cell.

‘You should answer that,’ she said, peering at the name.

‘I want this day with you.’

Nesta pushed the phone towards him. ‘I’d be glad for time with my thoughts. Answer that. Do whatever it is you need to do. We can meet later.’

‘I’ll fly those to the hotel,’ he said, gesturing to her returned items.

Nesta kissed his fingers then strode into the sun, hips swaying as she went.

***

How many different ways could Nesta try to convince Hunt to leave with her – or for him to ask her to stay. She didn’t want to impose. She’d done that enough already on his life. But if Hunt asked her to stay… No, she couldn’t. Feyre was dying. What sort of sister would she be if she left her in those final moments?

Nesta sighed.

The same sister they all believed her to be; worthless, spoilt, and needing redemption.

A shadow bumped into her arm then a figure took up the seat beside her on the bench. Ruhn Danaan wore his typical black jeans and t-shirt with a pair of sunglasses to protect his hungover eyes from the bright sunlight.

‘It’s very loud,’ he said, wincing.

Children were playing at the park where Nesta’s feet had taken her to. Their squeals and joy made her think of the children who never stood a chance in Prythian; the ones who were exposed to war, Illyrian girls who were clipped and beaten.

‘I didn’t think you would come.’

‘And miss the chance to say goodbye?’

Following Hunt’s advice, Nesta had sent a text that merely asked Ruhn to meet her – and she received a reply asking who it was in return. Then another saying if they had once had a date, he wasn’t the sort of guy to want to settle down and he was sorry.

‘I need to return this.’ Nesta held out Tristan Flynn’s credit card. ‘I’d like to keep the cell phone. If that’s alright.’

‘Of course you can. Flynn will be devastated you gave this to me and not him.’

A messenger otter scurried along then stopped in front of Ruhn, brandishing a letter. Nesta couldn’t stop her fawning.

‘Tharion Ketos. What a weasel,’ he muttered, pocketing the letter.

‘I wish we had those.’

‘Mer?’

Nesta tutted. ‘Otters. We have otters, but not ones that wear little jackets and deliver letters.’

Ruhn gave a slight laugh then folded his arms over his chest. He looked at her, really looked at her. ‘You don’t want to go back, do you?’

Everything suddenly felt hot and painful. Nesta tipped her face upwards, blinking as quickly as she could to keep from crying. Ruhn stroked her bare arm.

‘I can’t sugar coat it. My father will not stop until he finds out who you are. You’re technically under his jurisdiction as one of the fae. Hunt is a slave – there isn’t much he can do for you. If Micah sells his ass to Sandriel, he won’t be here.’ Ruhn winced. ‘Is it really better here for you than there?’

Yes, she thought. Because I can be somebody here. I can study and learn and be my own person without history trailing me. And I’d have Hunt.

‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘I know I have to.’

‘Let me walk you back to your hotel at least.’

Despite the beauty of the day, Nesta had gone cold and hollow with every step closer to the hotel.

Nesta steeled her wounded heart. She held the pieces together even if they felt like they would shatter from the force. It wasn’t fair.

‘How much would it cost to buy Hunt?’

Ruhn let out a whistle. ‘The Umbra Mortis?’

‘What if I offered my Harp or my sword?’

‘It might sweeten the deal but Hunt Athalar is one of a kind.’

Visions of her putting on the Mask or Crown and forcing Micah to release Hunt to her came to Nesta. It was a bad idea, but a tempting one. There had to be some way for them to be together. Maybe destiny was forged by their own hands.

‘That Harp of yours,’ Ruhn said. ‘It wouldn’t be related to the Horn, would it?’

‘Why would it be?’

Ruhn shrugged. ‘It’s just that the Horn went missing the other day. I came to see you just afterwards and you looked pretty panicked. Then Athalar appeared looking sweaty just after there was a freak lightning storm at Luna’s Temple.’

‘How odd.’

‘Odd indeed.’

On an instinct, Ruhn grabbed the strap of her dress with two fingers at the edge of a busy road without a crossing. Nesta hadn’t quite mastered it yet, but she knew not to walk out now – but his care was appreciated.

‘I heard it’s broken anyway,’ Nesta said with an airy tone. ‘It wouldn’t be any use to the person who now has it.’

‘Unless they knew how to create Made items like a magic sword that doesn’t like me.’

‘What would it mean if there was somebody in Lunathion who could create Made items – theoretically, Ruhn?’

The hotel came into view and they slowed their pace to finish their theoretical conversation. Ruhn pretended to stroke an imaginary beard then slung an arm around her as they walk so he could lean towards her ear and speak in a whisper.

‘If the Asteri knew there was somebody with those powers in Lunathion, they’d be the public’s most wanted. And Hunt Athalar would be ordered to bring them in dead or alive. I don’t think that theoretical person would want the Umbra Mortis in that situation, would they?’

There was no telling if Hunt could disobey direct orders although she knew he’d try. For her, he’d try. And she couldn’t do that to him.

At the doors to the hotel, they stopped opposite each other. Amidst the vibrant colours of his tattoos, Nesta could make out damaged, scarred skin.

‘I’m sorry that it can’t be the way you want it.’

Nesta offered a half-smile that felt like a veneer slapped over a rotting foundation. ‘Do any of us ever get what we deserve?’

‘Maybe in another life.’

This was her other life, her other chance. When Ruhn embraced her, she didn’t know how to respond because the males here treated her with kindness without expectation.

‘I’ll tell Flynn you love him. He can peddle that story about unrequited love to simpering females.’

‘Goodbye Ruhn.’

***

Five names. Five names for him to kill.

Hunt felt sick from it. Sick with himself. Because five on one night was more names than he usually had in half a year. He shouldn’t rejoice in death, but it would shave off a little more of his debt.

He was wrong for it. Wrong for being glad that he could exchange a life for his debt.

Nesta deserved better than that. Better than a slave. A killer. A worthless male.

When he met her in the hotel room, he didn’t mention that he could smell Ruhn Danaan on her clothes despite her desire to spend time alone. He’d let her keep that secret if he could keep his. She might have held him last night and waved away his debt to Micah as something he couldn’t control, but it was Hunt’s action that led him to this point. Nobody forced him to lead a rebellion. And it wasn’t just killing. A single bullet to the head was merciful; the sorts of death Micah had him enact would send Nesta running from him.

Hunt bundled up his grief and disgust. He could hold it back for a few hours. Give her a good few hours before she returned. Let Nesta go home beneath a golden sky rather than his storm.

‘I did something. I think.’

Nesta held out the Horn to him which was glowing with an iridescent light. Faintly, he could feel a thrum of magic through his core.

‘How?’

‘The sword is a Made item. Made by me. I was Made by the Cauldron then took its power.’ Nesta swallowed then looked at him. ‘I fixed it Hunt. It can open to new worlds. It’s a safer bet than the Harp. I fixed it.’

‘If anybody could fix a relic that is thousands of years old, it would be you,’ he said, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone.

Every now and then, a silver flame would skitter across the instrument that she clutched in her hands. The Harp would hum in unison with it. Whoever – whatever – Nesta was, Hunt didn’t care.

‘Are you going to blow it?’

Despite her nod, Nesta didn’t move for a while, just stared at him with wide eyes.

‘It’s alright if you’re scared. I’ll be with you.’ He kissed her forehead and the Horn buzzed between them like a hornet. ‘I’m talking to Nesta, not you.’

*** ‘Ready?’ She wanted Hunt to call it off, to tell her to stay at his side until the stars fell. No matter his warnings about the Asteri or Micah or the Autumn King, none of it could be as bad as what was waiting for her in Prythian. A vengeful queen, a sister who was to die, and a high lord who only wanted her to suffer. It didn’t matter what danger she faced in Lunathion because with Hunt at her side, anything was possible. There was no storm they couldn’t weather together.

Hunt squeezed her knee. ‘Ready. To the stars.’

Pursing her lips, Nesta touched the horn to her lips and blew.

A pathetic, raspberry echoed through the horn.

She glanced at Hunt, heat building in her cheeks, and saw that he was screwing his face up. After a moment, he burst into riotous laughter.

‘What was that?’ He asked between his booming laugh.

She found herself laughing in answer, infected by his merriment. ‘I’ve never blown a horn before. I don’t know how to do it.’

Hunt slapped his thigh, trying to right himself. ‘Not like that!’

The pair of them lost it. Whatever tension had been clinging to the room soon evaporated as Nesta tried again and again to put her lips towards the horn. Each time she pouted or made a trumpeting noise, Hunt roared with laughter, setting her off too.

‘Stop looking at me because you’re putting me off.’

Tears rolled down Hunt’s cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut although a large grin spread across his handsome face.

Nesta pulled out her phone and searched how to blow a horn. In a world where knowledge was at her fingertips, it seemed terribly wasteful not to utilise it.

‘Maybe the Horn is still broken, Starlight.’

But it couldn’t be because her magic had been drawn to it and the Horn had been buzzing with possibilities since.

‘I can do it,’ she insisted.

‘I know you can,’ he replied, touching her leg again. ‘Not looking again.’

Easing out a breath, Nesta formed her lips in the shape her cell phone told her to. A low, well-held note emitted from the top of the horn.

Hunt whispered her name.

Near the wall, a great portal had opened, its edges rimmed with her silver flames. Rather than offering a view of Crescent City, Nesta saw into the library in the House of Wind. There was her favoured arm chair with the foot rest pulled close by. A little stack of books that she’d pulled out a couple of weeks earlier was upon the three-legged table.

‘You did it,’ he praised, stroking her cheek. ‘Is there anything you can’t do, you wonderful girl?’

Nesta grasped for him, too emotional to speak. Her hands reached for his face, pulling it to hers to kiss one final time. Strands of his hair fell onto her cheek as they kissed and she stretched out a hand to brush the inside of his wing one last time.

‘Mother above, what the fuck.’

She leapt away from Hunt, startled by the voice.

Lucien Vanserra stood in the library opposite them, peering into the hotel room, a full cup and saucer held in his hand.

Hunt braced his legs then lightning wreathed his body.

‘No,’ Nesta urged. ‘This is my sister’s mate.’

His voice took on a lethal edge. ‘This is Rhysand?’

‘Definitely not,’ called Lucien.

‘Elain’s mate. The eye.’

‘The eye,’ confirmed Hunt, finally taking in the golden eye and the scar rippling down Lucien’s face which was paler than usual.

‘We thought you were dead or kidnapped or trapped in the Prison.’

‘Surprise,’ Hunt said drily.

They passed the bag through first to test it. Lucien, baffled and muttering to himself, waited on the Prythian side to accept it. Maybe it was odd to keep all of the clothes from Lunathion as they’d have no place, but Nesta didn’t want to part with anything from her week there. Everything was taken from her in the war, so she wanted to keep this.

When the Harp and Atraxia were passed through safely, she said it was her turn.

The portal was too high for her step through easily so Hunt lifted her over it and Lucien, gingerly, accepted her on the other side, lowering her to the floor as if she was a sack of potatoes.

‘I think if I blow the Horn again, it will close it.’

She lifted it near to her lips. ‘Don’t make me laugh this time.’

‘It’s my last chance. I have to,’ Hunt insisted, brown eyes sparkling with joy.

But when Nesta did press the Horn closer, the amusement drained from Hunt’s expression, accepting it was the end.

A single note emitted and the flames collapsed in on themselves, leaving Nesta with a view of the tall windows in the library. She dropped the Horn then sank to her knees and wept.

#hunt x nesta #hunt athalar #nesta archeron

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elryuse · 1 month

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Hey man good day,

I was thinking if you can feature Stayc's J for a yandere fic? Plus she's already on legal age and I haven't seen much StayC fics or smut that much so..

So the setting would probably be, a stepsister yandere? Thanks! 🍻

The Dark Descent Into Madness

Yandere Stepsister J X Male Younger Stepbrother Reader (Slight Smut)

J hummed along to the catchy tune playing in her studio, her voice a breathy whisper as she recorded her latest track. Sweat slicked her forehead, the air thick with the concentration that birthed chart-topping hits. Suddenly, a sickening thud echoed through the door, followed by a string of obscenities.

Panic jolted through her. J scrambled to her feet, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The door splintered inwards, revealing three burly figures leering at her. Fear coiled in her gut, sharp and cold. These weren't fans; their eyes held a predatory gleam that sent shivers down her spine.

Just as one of them lunged, a blur of fury materialized in the doorway. It was Y/n, her younger stepbrother, his face contorted in rage. He fought with a desperate ferocity honed by years of protective instincts towards his famous sister. But he was outnumbered, and soon, the tide turned.

J watched in horror as Y/n crumpled to the floor, a sickening crack echoing as his arm took a brutal blow. One of the men grabbed her, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. But before he could touch her, a primal scream ripped from her throat.

She lunged for a discarded microphone stand, the heavy metal a blur in her trembling hands. With a strength born of terror, she slammed it into his knee, the sickening crunch of bone music to her ears. The man howled in pain, his grip loosening. J didn't hesitate. She grabbed a stray phone charger, its cord a threatening whip, and lashed out at the remaining figures.

They weren't expecting such a ferocious counterattack from the seemingly delicate idol. In the ensuing chaos, Y/n managed to crawl towards a fire extinguisher. With a desperate heave, he unleashed a white cloud, momentarily blinding the attackers. It was their chance.

They scrambled out of the studio, the acrid smoke stinging their lungs. J slammed the door shut, collapsing against it, gasping for breath. Her bravado evaporated, leaving behind a trembling wreck. Hot tears streamed down her face as she rushed to Y/n's side.

He was a mess, his clothes torn, face bruised and bloodied. A choked sob escaped her lips as she cradled his head in her lap, wiping away the crimson blooming on his cheek. "Y/n, my Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with terror and something else, a possessiveness that sent a tremor through her own body.

He winced as she gently cleaned his wounds, his gaze lingering on her a little too long. J felt a familiar warmth bloom in her stomach, a heat fueled not just by relief but by a primal urge to keep him safe, always.

The following days were a blur of doctor visits and hushed conversations. But beneath the surface, a storm brewed within J. The incident had ignited a possessive fire in her. The thought of any woman by his side, sharing his laughter, his touch, sent a tremor of jealousy through her.

One evening, Y/n came home late, a faint trace of perfume clinging to his clothes. J's heart hammered in her chest. He was supposed to be with her, not out with some nameless girl.

"Hey, J Noona" Y/n mumbled, a sheepish grin on his face as he saw her steely glare. "Sorry I'm late. Me and Sarah… uh… we just went to grab some food."

The name sent a spike of anger through her. "Sarah, huh?" J's voice was a low growl.

Y/n's smile faltered. "Noona, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" She slammed a photo on the table, the picture of a beaming Y/n with a pretty brunette plastered all over him. "You were supposed to be hanging out with me, remember?" There was a dangerous edge to her voice.

Y/n paled, his eyes widening. "Noona, it's not what it looks like. We were just…"

"Just what?" J cut him off, her voice a chilling whisper. The air crackled with unspoken tension.

Before he could reply, she was on him, her lips crushing against his in a searing kiss. It wasn't a kiss of affection, but of dominance, a desperate claim. Y/n froze, caught off guard by the sudden aggression.

J poured all her emotions into the kiss, her possessiveness, her fear, her need to feel him close. Her hands roamed his body, a stark contrast to the gentle way she usually touched him.

A gasp escaped Y/n's lips. His initial shock melted away, replaced by a response that sent another jolt through J. He kissed her back, his own hands finding purchase on her hips, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, a tangle of tongues and The air grew thick and humid, the scent of adrenaline and something altogether more primal clinging to them. Y/n, fueled by a desire he couldn't quite understand, deepened the kiss, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her oversized shirt, sending shivers down her spine.

J gasped, a mixture of surprise and a jolt of pleasure arcing through her. She explored his face with her hands, tracing the sharp angles of his jaw, feeling the stubble that prickled delightfully against her palm.

One of his hands moved up her back, sending a spark of heat igniting at the base of her spine. He fumbled with the clasp of her bra, a clumsy urgency in his movements that sent a thrill through her. The cool air on her exposed skin was a stark contrast to the burning heat rising within.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes glazed with desire. "Y/n," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

He stared at her, his own eyes heavy with a mix of confusion and something akin to desperateness. "Noona," he murmured, his voice thick. "I…"

But before he could finish his thought, she cut him off, her voice husky with barely contained desire. "Don't think," she whispered, her fingers trailing down his chest, sending shivers cascading down his body. "Just Enjoy."

With a groan, he pulled her flush against him, his lips finding a sensitive spot on her neck, sending sparks dancing across her skin. He trailed kisses down her collarbone, each touch a searing brand.

Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door shattered the heated atmosphere. J froze, her breath catching in her throat. Y/n pulled away, his chest heaving, his eyes searching hers.

"J?" came a muffled voice through the door. "It's Lia, are you alright?"

J cursed under her breath. It was her manager, always at the most inconvenient times. With a sigh, she pushed Y/n away, a wave of frustration washing over her. The moment was broken, the forbidden thrill hanging heavy in the air.

"J-Just a minute, Lia-nim" she called back, forcing a smile. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to appear composed.

Lia's voice came again, laced with concern. "Is Y/n there too?"

J hesitated. How much could she explain without raising suspicion? "Yeah, he's just… checking on my wounds," she lied, hating the lie even as it left her lips.

"Alright, dear. Just remember, you have a photo shoot tomorrow. Get some rest," Lia said, before her footsteps faded down the hallway.

J turned back to Y/n, a mixture of frustration and a flicker of desperation swirling in her eyes. "We can't… not now," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"No," Y/n breathed, his own frustration mirroring hers. He stepped closer, his voice husky. "But we can't let this end either."

He leaned down, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to hers. "We'll find a way, Noona. We have to."

The promise hung heavy in the air, a silent pact forged in the aftermath of danger and ignited by a forbidden desire. As they embraced, the taste of her fear and his possessiveness lingered, a twisted yet intoxicating flavor that promised a dark and thrilling path ahead.

Days bled into weeks, a simmering tension hanging thick in the air between J and Y/n. They stole stolen glances, lingering touches, their forbidden passion a secret language only they understood. Sarah's name became a trigger, sending a tremor of possessiveness through J and a pang of guilt through Y/n.

One evening, after a particularly charged encounter that left them both breathless, J decided to take matters into her own hands. "Y/n," she started, her voice husky, "We can't keep doing this. Sarah… she's a threat."

Y/n stared at her, the guilt in his eyes turning to a flicker of understanding. "I know," he confessed, running a hand through his hair. "But, what are we supposed to do Noona?"

A cold glint flickered in J's eyes. "There's only one way," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Sarah can't be a part of this anymore."

Y/n's breath hitched. "N-noona, no. You can't…"

"Yes, I can," she interrupted, her voice gaining a steely edge. "For us, Y/n. Don't you see? We can't have a future together if she's still around."

The weight of her words settled on Y/n like a leaden weight. The possessiveness that had initially scared him now felt… comforting. He loved J, a twisted, forbidden love born from shared danger and stolen moments. The thought of losing her was unbearable.

"Alright," he finally whispered, a knot forming in his stomach. "But how?"

J leaned closer, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Leave that to me Love," she purred, her touch sending shivers down his spine. "You just need to trust me."

The following days were a blur of meticulous planning. J, fueled by a terrifying mix of love and possessiveness, orchestrated a seemingly accidental "leak" of Sarah's schedule. The fear in Y/n's eyes every time he looked at her fueled her resolve.

The night of Sarah's "accident" arrived, a storm mirroring the turmoil in J's heart. Y/n paced the room, worry etched on his face. J squeezed his hand, her touch surprisingly cold.

"It'll be alright Love, " she whispered, a lie heavy on her tongue.

The news report crackled to life, announcing Sarah's "tragic" car accident. Y/n blanched, his hand trembling in hers. J held him close, murmuring empty words of comfort, while inside, a chilling satisfaction bloomed.

The aftermath was a whirlwind of grief and fake condolences. J played the part of the devastated friend flawlessly, the guilt a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. But as Y/n held her close, his grief laced with a newfound dependence on her, the ache faded, replaced by a chilling emptiness.

Weeks turned into months, the memory of Sarah fading with each passing day. J and Y/n's bond deepened, their forbidden love blossoming in the darkness they had created. The guilt still lingered, a phantom limb, but it was overshadowed by the intensity of their twisted passion.

One evening, as they lay entangled in each other's arms, Y/n whispered, "J Noona, I love you. More than anything."

A ghost of a smile played on J's lips. "I love you too, Y/n," she murmured, her voice laced with a possessiveness that chilled him to the bone. "And together, we'll be unstoppable."

In that moment, Y/n realized the full weight of his choices. He was trapped, a willing prisoner in J's web of love and fear. But as he looked into her eyes, a terrifying truth dawned on him – a part of him, a dark, twisted part, craved this forbidden love, this chilling future they had built on the ashes of another life.

#j stayc #stayc #kpop smut #kpopidol #yandere x reader #yandere roleplay #yandere blog #yandere stories #yandere #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #sexy content #beautiful #update

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duckapus · 7 months

Text

So you know how in Scarlet and Violet you've technically got a team of seven Pokemon and nobody bats an eye even though one of the Big Rules of Pokemon has always been the Six Pokemon Limit? Well, I'd say that's good evidence that said limit is only legally in place for Official Matches.

The way I figure it, most traveling trainers can only handle having around five to seven Pokemon on-hand at any given time, since, well, you've got to be able to care for yourself and your Pokemon while living out of a backpack(albeit a backpack that's clearly significantly larger on the inside than out, but still) with a somewhat unstable source of income (namely battling other trainers and selling cool junk you found on the side of the road). If you're a League Trainer who's got a full, varied team of six that's seven actual living individuals with wildly different dietary and hygiene needs, sleep schedules, personalities, and relative levels of sapience to keep happy, healthy, and battle-ready, and the Pokeball's stasis properties only do so much for the physical needs and not really anything at all for the social and psychological.

Plus six is a nice, round, even number, so it's good for Official League Stuff, and for standardized equipment like Pokeball Belts and similar Ball Holster Items, and eventually it's so culturally accepted that it's out of the ordinary to have more than six in your active party, to the point that most people forget that the full wording of "Only Six Pokemon" is "Only Six Pokemon in Official League Matches". But not so out of the ordinary that anyone will actually care about your bonus Dragon Bike.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #headcanon #worldbuilding #pokemon worldbuilding #plus even if it IS “only six pokemon no exceptions” you're out in the wilderness for weeks on end so who's gonna be around to enforce it?#not sure how clearly this reads because it's almost three in the morning and i'm rambly even when i'm properly awake let alone when i'm not

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gabessquishytum · 2 months

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Hob is an interior designer for the ultra rich; he moves furniture around to lighten "engeries" and increase "flow". It's a hodgepodge of bastardized fung shui and geometry, because Hob is a conman. And thief.

His interior design persona and "firm" was a cover Hob was using to case some rich asshole's house. Hob wasn't even trying to sell the bit really, he moved a single chair, but after the job (this guy was obliviously so rich that he hasn't seemed to notice Hob's theft 🤷🏽‍♀️) Hob's mark recommended him to his other rich douche friends.

So high-end interior design is now Hob's side hustle. He's still a thief and conman, but now he's legally (sort of) conning marks. Hob is just as surprised as you.

He has just been hired to design the new bachelor pad for one Dream Endless - artist, socialite, philanthropist. If the name sounds familiar, it's because he just had an amazingly loud divorce play out in the press from partner no. 3 (there were two other marriages and one kidlet, for Mr. Endless). And it seems like the ex got all the friends and support in the divorce.

Hob was hired by some assistant, a Matthew, so he's yet to meet Mr. Endless, but if the various paparazzi photos are right, he should certainly be nice to look at.

Yeah, those paparazzi photos did not do him justice -- watching Dream swim in little tiny speedos is Hob's new religion. If Hob were a better man, he wouldn't be scheming to become Mr. Endless the 4th.

Mr Endless the 4th... and hopefully the last. I reckon Hob will want to stick around! I am absolutely tickled by this au, tbh. I think Hob needs to keep on scamming rich people and stealing their furniture as much as he wants.

Dream's requests for the design were basically "I want it all to be black" and also "leave me alone when I'm doing my art" - two things that Hob is a little bit disappointed about. He doesn't really care about interior design, but all black? Minimalism? Dream deserves better. And Hob definitely doesn't want to leave him alone! But if he can at least watch Dream, that's good enough for now.

He makes a few adjustments to what Dream requested. There's plenty of black, sure, but there's also stained glass and light streaming into the apartment. There's beautiful stone flooring in the kitchen (heated, of course). Hob gets the most amazing four poster bed for his new favourite client, all silk sheets and black-out curtains. He spends all day dreaming about making sweet love to Mr Endless in between those sheets.

And Dream seems to be getting used to having Hob around. Plus he begrudgingly approves of his design choices. Eventually he opens up about his miserable dating life, and Hob is always so sympathetic. He doesn't lay it on too thick (Dream is smart enough to spot a gold-digger!), he's just kind. Is Dream really making him into a better person?!

Well, maybe not. Hob is still a thief, and he's definitely still scamming his clients with the whole "vibrations" thing. He's also definitely perving on Mr Endess in the swimming pool. But when Dream does finally make a move and shyly kisses Hob while inspecting the latest updates to the interior design... Hob takes him to bed very gently. He lays Dream out on the silky sheets and fucks him so sweetly, so lovingly, telling him how worthy and beautiful he is. Things that Dream has never heard before.

Hob settles into the bed when Dream falls asleep on him afterwards - and rest assured, he intends to stay. Hopefully with a ring on his finger. But he's not getting ahead of himself, don't you worry.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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pictureinme · 9 months

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cheri cheri lady – kitten braden (1)

❧ you go to a peepshow. you meet kitten. your life is flipped upside down.

patricia 'kitten' braden x f!reader tags: voyeurism, oral sex, p in v, etc. (see ao3 for full list) parts: 1 (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

You make your way into the part of town you swore you’d never step foot in: the red-light district. The only women around were streetwalking or advertising their clubs.

You were here to do neither of those things.

Being a closeted lesbian in London might seem like an easy job, that is, until that said lesbian gets horny. Who doesn’t? You considered paying for an hour or so, but you weren’t made of money. Plus, what if someone saw you? That’s why you were laying low in your unassuming trench coat and slacks.

If you walked quickly enough, no one would notice you aren’t a man looking to throw his money away to see some naked ladies.

Taking it slow, you decide to go to a peepshow. It’s easy, there isn’t any chance you’ll get into trouble.

In glimmering neon, you see the sign: Xanadu. You heard it was run by a union of sorts, and it was fully legal. No busts to get caught in.

Entering through the tinsel curtain, the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume hung in the air. Exciting.

You walk quickly through the booths and their curtains, until you find one unoccupied. Shutting the curtains, you sit on the stool, wiping a trickle of sweat from your brow.

Fumbling through your coin purse, you put the allotted amount for twenty minutes into the slot.

The view quickly reveals itself: a lovely young blonde woman, dressed in a blue slip, was sitting on a flower adorned swing.

“Well, hello there.”

Her deep voice, coupled with her lusty blue eyes, had you stifle a choke, which was caught on the microphone.

She giggles, quite over the top.

“You’re an absolute beauty,” you manage to whisper, forgetting your preamble about how you’re a woman and if that would offend her in some way.

Her swinging stops, and a smirk finds its way onto her face, “Oh, a lady paying for a peepshow? How unusual.”

You scramble, “If that bothers you, I can leave, no problem. You can keep the money, of course and...”

Her finger comes to her plush lips in a shushing motion, “Don’t get all uppity, darling. In fact, I wish more ladies would come in. Make this a lot more fun, hm?

“I have to agree, Miss…?”

“Call me Kitten, love. May I know yours?”

Kitten’s tongue goes to lick her lips quickly, making your breath shudder.

“You can call me… (Y/N).”

‘Why did you give her your real name, you dunce?’ you think to yourself.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. What made you brave this side of London just to see little ol’ me?” One of her straps falls from her shoulder, you can’t help but stare.

You chuckle, blushing slightly at the compliment, “Can you blame a girl for being horny?”

“Not at all, dear (Y/N),” Kitten leans closer to the glass, “I must say, I like it when girls talk so crass.”

“Yeah? I like it when girls wear pretty blue slips… especially when they let them fall so low.”

Your confidence grows by the minute. You know she can’t see you, but she sure as hell acts like she can.

“My, you’re quite the dirty girl. What would you like to see, love?” She bites her thumb, letting her lips wrap around it.

“Anything. I’m honestly content just… talking with such a beautiful woman.”

Kitten smiles widely, “You’re such a flirt, dear. I’ll show you something nice…”

You watch as she moves her hands down to between her legs, still covered by the slip. With a gasp, you find yourself imitating her movements.

“You like that, Miss (Y/N)? Do you like seeing pretty girls doing dirty things?”

“Yes, Kitten, but I especially like it when you do it.”

Giggling, she starts to touch herself around her clothing, “I thought you might say that. I wish I could see you, I know you’re doing the same thing I am, hm?"

You nod, but realize she can’t see that, so you let out a noise of affirmation.

“Miss (Y/N), you were so brash before, what happened? Cat got your tongue, or was it a… kitten?”

“You’re driving me crazy, such a doll, you are.”

Her eyelids flutter closed, in seemingly faux ecstasy, “Your words make me the crazy one.”

Kitten’s slip falls from her chest, revealing her petite breasts. Eyes glued to her, your mouth falls open in a slight whimper.

“You know, all the men that come here think they’re rather disappointing, but you…”

She grins, and moves one hand to touch one of them. Still mimicking her, you whisper, “Kitten, you are something else.”

Just as you both start getting into the rhythm of it, a chime signals one minute till the end of your time. You have no more quarters.

“Oh, shame. I hope I see you around again soon, Miss (Y/N). You’ve certainly put me in a good mood,” Kittens seems genuinely saddened by this, but her peach pout is just too erotic for you to handle.

“I’ll definitely be back soon, Kitten. You’ve got me addicted.”

The view slides closed, and you’re left with both a soaked hand and underwear. Fuck.

#patricia braden x reader #kitten braden x reader #breakfast on pluto #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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julianalvarez9 · 1 year

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stranger / gavi

requested: no, but i got this idea a couple of days ago and i think it's what I needed to get off my writers block, fingers crossed 🥹

summary: you regretted accepting your bff's offer of being her plus one for a party you didn't even want to attend in the first place. but it brought you to him.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: not proofread. mention of a party, alcohol and the consumption of, don't talk to strangers you see on the sidewalk (?

you didn't even need to be there in the first place.

but your friend insisted that you hadn't moved to spain only for academic purposes, even if that's what you made your parents back at home believe. still, you weren't as drawn to parties as sofía was, and still, you found yourself right were she dragged you to be. some party held by a football club for winning a random trophy. that's what she had told you, only knowing half of it because her current fling, who was a player for the team, told her about it.

when you arrived there, though, you figured that it wasn't just some party held by a football club for winning a random trophy. it was a celebration for the entire barcelona fútbol club after winning the spanish super cup against none other than real madrid.

you couldn't say that it wasn't fun at first.

but being more on the introverted spectrum of social interactions, and not one to drink much, if even at all, made you grow tired of the environment very quickly. adding to the mix that your friend, the one who had begged you to come with her, had disappeared completely after seeing her man, you didn't have any reason to remain in this place. so that's how you started to make your way out, after finding your friend and her telling you it was okay, since she was already planning on leaving with this guy anyways -named pedri, or something like that, his name lost in the deafening music that filled the club.

making your way towards you car after exiting the overcrowded space you spent the last two hours in, you saw a guy seated on the sidewalk curb close to the back of your car, head hidden in his palms as he anxiously picked at his hair, yanking it from time to time.

"ei, ¿estás bien?" (hey, you're okay?) you said, not speaking too loud to avoid disrupting his already altered state, but you couldn't just left him there on his own devices. maybe he was too intoxicated and he might need your help, you thought. he just nodded, not making any efforts into lifting his eyes from the pavement below him. "puedo llamar a alguien que esté dentro si lo necesitas" (i can call someone from inside if you need it) you continued, not wanting to leave him alone in the middle of the night, even if you were sure that he could deal with it perfectly fine by his own. he nodded again, but this time, offering you a gentle smile that made you warm inside, and you flushed when you felt his attentive brown eyes reach your own.

assenting with your head, and not wanting to bother the handsome stranger you had just runned upon, you made your way onto the driver side of your car and unlocked it, ready to get home as soon as possible.

"espera, ¿me puedes sacar de aquí?" (wait, can you get me out of here?) the brown haired boy asked, now standing on his feet and a hopeful look in his eyes. "¿seguro?" (you're sure?) you asked, not totally convinced since you obviously didn't know him before your recent interaction, and not sure if he was aware of what he was asking. "sí" (yes) he answered rather quickly, nodding along. he reassured, a few seconds later, "me iría solo si tuviera mí licencia de conducir" (i'd leave alone if I had my driver's license).

"de nuevo, ¿cuántos años tienes?" (again, how old are you?)

"lo suficientemente mayor como para beber y tener mí licencia de conducir, solamente no me he molestado en obtenerla aún" (old enough to drink and have my driver's license, i just haven't bothered in getting it yet) he replied, bothered that you even had to ask him if he was legal of age. of course he was, he thought, almost rolling his eyes internally at the frequency in which he was picked upon, both on and off the pitch, due to him being so you. but you weren't obligated to know him, he remembered, figuring that you wouldn't have asked him that in the first place if you knew who he was.

he was taken out of his thoughts with another question coming from you. "¿y cómo llegaste hasta aquí?" (and how did you get here in the first place?) you said, smiling at the thought of him being driven around by his parents or something along the lines. he huffed, remembering why he had been strained in the first place. "pedri, un amigo, pero lo perdí hace un tiempo" (pedri, a friend, but I lost him a while ago).

you hummed, and unlocked the car to let both of you in. after all, it was still the middle of january, so it was safe to say the weather during the night wasn't as warm as you got to experience during the summer months. "¿estás seguro de irte con una completa desconocida? no sabes ni mí nombre" (are you sure you want to leave with a complete stranger? you don't even know my name) you asked again, buckling the seatbelt and tilting your head for him to do the same. he complied with your request, while answering for the hundredth time, "y tu no sabes el mío, así que estamos empatados. ¿ya podemos terminar con las preguntas?" (and you don't know mine, so we're even. can we finish with the questions now?) gavi asked, not yet annoyed but reaching that point rapidly. he was known for being a bit hotheaded, and while he didn't take proud in the fact, he recognised when his patience was running low.

the ride back to his destination was quick and easy, a bit of small conversation to prevent the silence from turning too awkward. you didn't want to overdo it, since you had asked too many questions already and you sensed that he wasn't the talkative type. at least not the first time you met. it was endearing, really, to have crossed paths with such a nice guy, not only on the outside -soft eyes and fluffy hair, almost the perfect combination for you-, but on the inside, soft spoken and attentive. you wished you had the chance to get to know him more, past the tiredness that clouded his sight and the shyness that was holding him back.

"has llegado a destino" (you've arrived at your destination) you joked, voice robotic like the lady that gave you indications through the electronic device. he giggled a bit, and you were thankful that he had found your bad joke funny. he was about to open the door, already body turned towards the door handle, when he retracted back. "¿puedo pedir algo más?" (can i ask for one more thing?) he muttered, and you nodded shily, figuring that he would ask you to not speak this with anyone else or to forget the address, if this was truly his house.

"¿me darías tu número?" (can i get your number?) gavi's cheeks flushed pink, and it would be the cutest sight if it was better illuminated, the lamp lighting up the street doing a poor job at brightening up his features. you timidly extended your hand for him to pass you his phone, and he quickly unlocked it and gave it to you, a tiny smile adorning his face while you were too occupied typing your number correctly.

going home from what you assumed was his place turned out to be quite quick, being closer to what you had expected. you were thankful, though, because your little adventure was already weighing in your sleepy eyes. you never got inside, took off your makeup and put on comfy clothes as quickly as you did tonight, but you were truly knackered. you were so tired you almost forgot to plug your phone to charge, and if it wasn't for the way the screen lightened up with a new notification, you would have forgotten about it.

#pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi x you #gavi x y/n #football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football x you

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greenfuls-secret-chambers · 1 year

Text

Warnings : Minors DNI, shameless smut

Reader is of legal age

1800+ words

Our Little Secret

Tripping over your feet, you successfully made your way past the crowd to the door of the bar.

It was Friday night, being the last few weeks of your third year of college , you and all of your friends decided to go out for a drink. Next thing you knew, one drink led to two, and two some how led to four.

You pushed past the heavy door, finding yourself leaning up against the building fishing in your pockets for your pack of cigarettes. Finding the pack you took one out and put it to your lips. You took out your lighter, tried to light the end but no luck.

“Well fuck, isn’t that just peachy.” You groaned

You looked around, scanning the figures around you, looking for someone who might be able to save you from your predicament. To your left you saw a man blowing smoke out of his nose.

“Hey would you mind? I need a light.” You pointed to your cigarette.

He looked up at your with green eyes and smiled. “Sure, no problem. I’ve been there a couple of times myself.” He stood up and put his hand around your cig to light it.

Holy shit, was this man TALL. Not only was he built like a damn giant, he was hot as fuck.

You stared at him in the pale moonlight, taking in his light brown hair, his bright green eyes, but also a scar that ran across his face. What you wouldn’t give to be under this mystery of a man.

“You know, it’s not polite to stare.” He smirked, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“I’m sorry!” You blushed, “My name is Y/N, thank you for the light.” You smiled, trying to not make things awkward.

“Oh yes Y/N Y/LN, I know of you, I’m Professor Remus Lupin, I teach world history at UCL.”

Your brain short circuited.

Im standing here smoking in front of a professor. NO I’m standing here drunk, smoking in front of a professor.

Worried about your image you moved your arm down by your side trying to hide your cigarette. You couldn’t afford to lose your scholarships.

Seeing you become uncomfortable he spoke,

“No need to be bashful, I’m not going to scold you for smoking. That would be hypocritical of me to do so.” He brought his hand up to his mouth and took a drag.

“Plus we are off of school grounds, so it can be our little secret.” He smirked

There it was again, that smirk was making your knees weak.

You finished your cigarette and flicked it away

“Well professor, the night is still young, I’m going back in and to grab another drink.”

“Mind if I come and join you? It is the weekend and I could use one. Grading all these exams are going to be the death of me.”

Feeling a little brave, you smiled, “Sure, since you helped me out with the light, just put yours on my tab.”

“Well I never say no to a free drink”

With that you walked through the door making your way to the bar taking a seat, Lupin following behind you.

The bartended made his way over to you, “Need another jack and coke?”

“Yes please, and could you put his on my tab?” You looked at Lupin.

“Cinnamon whiskey on the rocks.” He requested.

Within a couple of minutes your drinks were sat in front of you.

Lupin turned to look at you “For someone as sociable as you, I know you couldn’t of come alone.”

Oh shit your friends, you had completely forgotten about them. You looked around the bar, but no dice. “Well I didn’t, I guess they have already left for the night.” You looked down at your phone confirming your suspicions.

*Hey, I hope you’re alright! We waited for you to come back to the table, but Maria started to get sick so we took her back to Uni. Be safe! I’ll see you back at the dorm later*

…

An hour had past, you were now on your 6th drink of the night and you were feeling it. The night was going very well. The both of you were chatting up a storm, everything from what was going on at university to even some hobbies you both shared.

“.. and you know what,” Lupin spoke in between sips, “Professor Snape needs to have the huge stick removed from his ass, he is so insufferable to work with.”

You almost spit out your drink from laughing and lightly slapped him on the arm, “Imagine being one of his students, I have never in my life had a professor who is such a hard ass for no reason, I think that man just needs to get laid.” You giggled.

Lupin looked down at your hand, still on his arm and bit his lip. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

He looked up at you, taking in the sight. He hadn’t noticed early but you truly breathtaking. His eyes began to look you up and down, noticing a couple of your buttons at the top of your shirt had come undone. You skirt had rode up just slightly, giving him a view of your upper thigh.

You but your lip and quipped “You know Professor, it’s not polite to stare.”

“Y/N, no need for formalities, please call me Remus.” He replied, trying to take away from you catching him staring.

You smiled, noticing you still had your hand on his arm, you squeezed it ever so gently. This caused him to shift a little in his chair.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for another smoke.” You said trying to break the tension.

“I think you’re right.” He smiled

You both made your way outside, it had gotten a little colder which caused you to shiver.

Seeing this he asked, “I’m freezing, would you want to smoke in my car?”

Taking the opportunity not to go into hypothermic shock, as well as be alone with him, you happily agreed.

You both made your way to his car, getting into the passenger you could smell chocolate and warm spices. It was a nice change from the mustiness of the bar.

You both took out a cigarette. He lit his, waiting for him to hand you the lighter never came. He leaned over and lit your cig with his. His face only inches away from yours. Between the booze and his action, your cheeks turned red.

You both smoked in silence, stealing small glances while the other one wasn’t looking.

A few minutes went and you had both finished your smokes, flicking them out the window.

You checked your phone seeing it was almost 2am. “Well it’s getting rather late, I need to get back to the dorms soon.” You sighed.

Your hand reached for the door, but before you could open it, Remus grabbed onto your arm and pulled you over to him. Leaving you both inches away from each other’s face.

Staying in that position for what seemed like eternity, you closed the gap putting your lips to his.

He kissed you back immediately, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip, begging to be let inside, you happy obliged and parted your lips slightly, allowing him access. You both fought for dominance, but in the end letting him win.

A few seconds later he moved his hand to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair, pulling you away to look at him.

This caused you to whimper. Your cheeks where flushed, and your eyes where slightly closed.

“Such a pretty girl, I was just waiting to get my hands on you.” He looked you up and down, taking in the sight before him. You skirt had rode all the way up, giving him a view of your black lace panties.

Wanting more you moaned out, “Professor please ..” Starting to rub your thighs together.

He smirked “Professor? I do recall telling you to call me by my first name.” He brought his other hand to your thighs and pushed them apart.

Taking his finger and rubbing them up your clothed slit, he lowly chuckled feeling the wetness.

“Oh I see. This little slut has a thing for getting fucked by a Professor huh? That’s quite naughty isn’t it Y/N?”

You couldn’t take it, he was turning you into a moaning mess.

“Professor Lupin, please don’t tease me, I need more.” You gasped out, grinding down on his hand.

“Exactly what I would expect from a whore like you, don’t worry my love, I’ll give you more.”

He pulled your panties over to the side and pushed two long fingers into you, immediately curling them.

With his other hand, he let go of your hair, almost causing you to lose your balance, to unbutton his pants. He pulls them down just enough to free his cock.

Your eyes grew wide at the sight. He was definitely larger than average and so thick. You have no idea how it was going to fit inside you.

He brought his hand up to your mouth and commanded, “Spit.”

You did as you were told and watch him bring his hand down to his cock, starting to stroke at the same speed he was thrusting his fingers.

He started to speed up both hands then completely stoped.

“Come here, I want you to get in my lap.”

Without hesitating you climbed over the middle console.

He slid down in his seat to give you more access. He pulled your panties back over to the side and slowly pushed you down on his cock.

“Professor Lupin, you’re stretching me out.” You moaned, bitting your lip.

He grunted as he buried himself completely to the hilt. “Y/N, you have such a tight little pussy.”

Without warning he started to thrust upward into you. Both of his hands ripped open your shirt, sending buttons flying all over his car.

He pulled your breast out of your bra and leaned forward to take a nipple into his mouth.

His thrust started to become more rough causing you to grab on to his shoulders for more stability.

“Professor please, I want you to ruin my pussy, fuck me harder.” You cried out, begging.

He released your nipple from his mouth and grabbed the back of your neck pulling you close to him.

“If you keep squeezing around my cock like that, im going to make sure you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

And with that he sped up, thrusting into you at a speed you couldn’t even fathom , before you knew it your orgasm hit you like a train

“Fuck Remus, fill up my tight pussy.” You pleaded, riding out your orgasm.

With his name leaving your mouth he sped up.

“Y/N I’m so close my darling.” He groaned

Feeling you clench around him caused his movements to become uneven. With a final thrust he emptied inside of you, panting to catch his breath.

You both sat there, slumped in the driver seat. He brought his hand up to your cheek , taking his thumb ever so gently to rake across it.

#professor lupin x reader #smut #drinking #ciggerate #smoking #harry potter #remus x reader #remus lupin #mauraders #fanfic

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talesofesther · 1 year

Text

play our record, just one more time | ch 1

Eddie Munson x Reader

Series Summary: Your dreams know the sound of his voice, even if you haven't heard it closely in years. His fingertips still tingle when they remember the feeling of your skin, like a poorly healed scar. Or, the story of how you and Eddie fell apart, and found each other again.

A/N: First part of… I don't know how many honestly, this story will literally be me going with the flow, mostly. I will try to keep updates regular, focus on try. In any way, really hope you like it, let me know. <3

Masterlist

1976

"You sure you got everything?" Wayne called out, leaning against the front door of his trailer.

A little ten-year-old Eddie came running from his new room, big backpack bouncing on his back, missing a tooth on his infectious smile. His dark locks just about started to curl around the shell of his ear; "yeah, I did."

Wayne frowned as he looked down at his nephew, one of his hands reaching out to tug on the sleeve of Eddie's shirt. "Did you… is this on backwards boy?"

Eddie glanced down at his chest, muttering a soft; "shit," he dropped his bag on the floor and quickly pulled his black shirt off and on again.

The morning sun stung Wayne's eyes, he rubbed at his lashes with his fingers, still exhausted from his night shift. "I'm not cut out for this," he grumbled to himself.

"Sorry uncle Wayne, I won't do it again," Eddie's small voice was quick to say, looking up at him with his big chocolate eyes.

"Nah it's," Wayne sighed, looking down at the boy, at how he already expected a scolding, "s'not your fault boy, come on," he ruffled Eddie's tiny dark curls and walked out to his car, Eddie tailing behind him.

It would take some time for Wayne to get used to dropping Eddie at school every morning before work, making him breakfast, or patching up his scraped knees and going to school meetings because he was now his legal guardian. He never wanted to be a father, but the poor boy deserved one for a change; plus it did feel nice to watch him run off to school just to turn back immediately because he forgot to say goodbye.

Eddie barged through the school doors with purpose, too focused on finding his best friend to notice the lingering looks of his classmates. He met you just about a year ago, after finding a little note on his backpack of you asking if he wanted to sit with you on lunch instead of sitting alone, and since then you'd been attached to the hip with each other.

He spotted you beside your locker, mismatched socks high on your ankles and a bright purple baseball cap on your head, waving frantically at him and already calling out his name. You always greeted him with a quick hug and a; you won't believe what happened this weekend.

More likely than not, it was just a tale of how your dog ate another shoe. But Eddie loved to hear about it nonetheless.

"So you're staying with your uncle now?" You asked, now walking side by side with Eddie, in no hurry to get to your classroom even though the bell had already rung.

Eddie nodded, hands clasping his backpack straps; "yeah, dad left with his friends one night, and uncle Wayne came to pick me up a few days later, he says I'll be staying with him until dad gets back."

You hummed, your sneakers scratching the recently mopped school hallway, "that's good, your dad was kinda mean, is uncle Wayne cooler?"

"Yeah he is," Eddie beamed, innocent excitement bouncing off of him, "he lets me stay up at night until whenever I want and doesn't cut my hair, he said I can let it grow if I want to. Oh and I think he likes good music too."

"Cool," you chuckled, "we should look through his tapes when he's not home to see what he listens to."

"You can come back with me tomorrow after school," Eddie smiled.

"I'll ask my mom, but I'm sure she'll say yes," your shoulder bumped his as you walked. "It'll be fun."

Eddie slowed his steps when he spotted your classroom door, his smile fading slightly. "I miss my dad though, he wasn't the nicest but I didn't want him to leave like mom."

You stopped walking just short of reaching your classroom, at a total loss of how you should comfort someone but wanting to do it anyway. "Um… I'm sure he'll be back, no one would want to leave you, you're too cool. You should write him a letter, let him know you miss him."

A familiar prickling feeling behind his eyes made Eddie bite his lip, "will you help?"

"Sure, we can do it tomorrow too," you agreed, turning to take a step toward your art class but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

Eddie's cheeks turned pink, he let go of you just as quickly as he had reached out. "We- we'll never stop being friends, right?"

"Of course not," you didn't hesitate, words slipping off your tongue easily, "you're my best friend, we'll always be together."

Pursing his lips, Eddie lifted his hand with his pinkie pointing to you. "Promise?" He asked, tone all too pleading for someone this young.

You hooked your pinkie with his, an oath as easy as breathing; "promise."

1977

Only almost a year after the letter was sent, that Eddie's father emerged from the darkness. Wayne was about to kick him out of the house when Eddie walked in. The happiness of seeing his father again spoke louder than the anger of being left alone for a year, louder than all the pain from before.

His father stayed for a week, and even if Eddie's wrist was a little bruised from that one time he almost opened a bag he wasn't supposed to touch, the boy was happy.

He stayed for a week. And then he never came back again.

1978

You saw Eddie cry for the first time when your teacher suggested a father's day project. He had tears silently streaming down his face before he even realized it, you dragged him out of class before anyone could see and make fun of it. He bunched your shirt in his fists and soaked it in tears in the hallway.

From your insistence, Eddie made his gift for Wayne. That was also the first time you saw his uncle cry.

1979

Eddie formed a band with his new friends. You're sneaking into the cheerleading practice.

You don't miss a single one of his band's rehearsals. Eddie distracts the gym teacher for you and tells you to join the cheer team when you get to high school.

1980

You and Wayne put together enough money to buy the burgundy guitar that Eddie had been drooling over for months now.

Eddie gives you your first kiss. It tasted like ice cream, under the sun of a hot summer day and the low tune of I Was Made For Lovin' You playing on Wayne's car. You both laughed afterward, fingers all sticky and cheeks all hot and skin tingling even after you got home.

1981

You and Eddie have your first big fight after he insulted the basketball players. You had just made the cheerleading team; the rumors were already going around about the new girl who was friends with the troublemaker.

Later that day you found Eddie sulking at the lonely picnic table in the woods. You made up; with a bag of his favorite snacks and a cuddle session you never spoke about afterward. A weird weight sits in the air between you after that.

1982, January

A boy asked you to be his girlfriend. It wasn't Eddie. You said yes, because it felt exciting, and your new friends said he was the cutest boy in your class.

Your new boyfriend doesn't like Eddie, calls him a weirdo and a freak. The word has a bitter taste, you hate it. But Eddie's all black leather jackets, metal music, and long hair now; and you're all soft pink lipstick, plush cheer pom poms, and weekend partying now. You never tell your boyfriend or your cheerleading friends otherwise, even though you should.

Eddie doesn't like your new boyfriend. He says he's just a stuck-up jock and you can do much better. You don't ask him who would be the better option, even though you want to.

Eddie doesn't sit with you in the cafeteria anymore, he settles for a halfhearted nod whenever you smile his way. He does still give you a ride home and lets you in his room to hear him practice guitar though. It's like he's two different people inside and outside of school.

1982, August

Days in which you don't speak to Eddie at all are starting to become a new normal.

Eddie thinks you see him the same way everyone else does now. A freak, someone to coil away from in disgust. Of all people, you were the last one he expected would do this. Maybe that's why it was so painful. He feels betrayed, so he wears his armor around the person who's seen him in his most vulnerable more than once. It feels wrong. But that's all he knows.

You think Eddie is being petty. You think it's unfair that he can't accept your new friends, that he doesn't want you to hang out with other people or have a boyfriend who just so happens to play in the school's team. You can't help but think that the insults he throws at them, are meant for you too.

You two don't talk much anymore; except for birthday wishes and the few nights you go to watch him play at The Hideout.

Eddie doesn't tell you that he'd never say a single bad thing about you. Not you. Never you.

You don't tell him that he could never be anything other than the sweet boy with chocolate eyes for you.

1984

Eddie is more of a stranger than a friend.

It's foolish, because it's hurting both of you.

You graduated and he got held back, it didn't make much of a difference, you haven't spoken to each other in more than a year.

1986, March

"We have also identified a person of interest. Eddie Munson. We encourage anyone with information to please come forward."

Your spoonful of cereal stopped midway before reaching your mouth as you heard the voice of the chief of police on your television, saying the name of the person who once used to share all his secrets with you, and blaming him for fucking murders.

Before you register what you were doing, you were already dialing Eddie's phone number, your heart threatening to leap out of your chest every time the line rang and no one picked up. When you slammed the phone back on your wall, you felt sick to your stomach, almost puking the little bit of the cereal you managed to eat.

No one knew where Eddie was. You searched, even if you were probably the last person he wanted to see.

Only a couple weeks later, after the earthquakes, after Eddie's name was cleared, you finally had a glimpse of him. From far away you saw bandages on his exposed skin — you wondered what happened, part of you wanted to run to him — and even so, he was carrying a cardboard box over to the gymnasium, helping those who lost their homes in the destruction.

For the first time then, you could breathe again, knowing he was okay. Despite it all, Eddie would always have a piece of your heart.

1986, November

"Absolutely not," you said with an edge on your tone, carrying a stack of freshly returned movies in your arms as you walked around the counter to put them back in place.

Monday's were definitely the slowest day in Family Video, usually, the only thing happening was customers returning the movies from the weekend.

"Y/N please, I've already talked to Keith and after pretty much I and Robin begged on our knees, he agreed to it," Steve tailed behind you, the red neon sign on the back wall shining against his cinnamon hair and green vest, "under the one condition of you watching him for the first days, that's all I'm asking and I'll make it up to you I promise." He finished with a plead, clasping his hands together and giving you his best puppy eyes.

You groaned, leaning back against one of the movie posters on the wall, you did always have a weakness for a pretty boy with brown eyes, "Stevie, it's not that I don't want to help, I just have a lot on my plate already, with the arcade and here." It was true, because you happened to be Keith's cousin, you were the one he trusted most to overlook both places while he was absent, which honestly, was most days. But you didn't tell Steve that he was asking you to watch over the same boy who counted stars with you on an empty lot of the trailer park, the same boy who left a hole in your heart that was yet to be filled. It was all kinds of messy and all kinds of complicated and, of course, it was just your luck that your friends — and coworkers — were now also besties with him. But no one needed to know that, whatever it was that happened between you and Eddie, belongs in the past.

"I know, listen, I know. But Robin and I are gonna help however we can-"

"Why can't one of you do it, anyway?"

Steve huffed, placing one hand on his waist, "some bullshit about how our judgment won't be fair because we're friends, you know how Keith is with these things." He chewed on the side of his cheek for a second, weighing his words, "listen he- Eddie, he's been through a lot, and now that he finally managed to graduate he needs a stable job and… with his history, you can imagine how just about no one will hire."

The wound was still fresh in most of Hawkins, the murders, the false accusations that just about doomed the poor boy, plus the town was still rebuilding, still healing; Steve talks about it as if you didn't know, as if you hadn't seen and worried first hand about it. You don't let it show on your face how much his words freeze your insides.

"This fucking town," you grumbled.

Steve snorted, "tell me about it."

You nag on your bottom lip with your teeth, almost drawing blood. Your stomach is twisting and turning, you're in front of a crossroad and with no idea in which way to turn. But regardless of the road you take, you know it'll be a path you can't walk back from.

Somehow, you think, you've probably made your decision as soon as Steve first asked you. He's right, Eddie has already suffered way too much. You know he won't be happy to see you, let alone work with you, and you're not thrilled about it either. But you made a promise long ago that you intend on keeping.

"Alright, whatever, I'll do it." Damn you and your soft heart.

⋆*☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read Part 2 here

Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @witchbinchstories @call-me-magpie

@loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @sweetpeapod @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh @andraimeide @esoltis280 @eddielives1986 @totallynotkaibiased @just-love-reading @murnsondock

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #strangerthingsedit #stranger things #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunsonedit #joseph quinn #stranger things x reader #st #my story

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year

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Saudade (Yandere!Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Reader)

A/n: it has been 500 years since I turned off my brain and wrote something out of pure passion lmao dimitri my beloved <333

Unreliable Synopsis: Circumstances won't allow you to be around the crown prince of Faerghus' side, and it wasn't as if you want to be near him either after allying with House Gloucester. Besides, if there was one person you want from your past back, who else would it be other than your old womanizer best friend? (Cw: yandere themes, violence, war)

commissioned by: @poptartsthings (holy sht thank you for making my first commission to be dimitri fic aaAAHHHHH--)

“You should just send them your letter– say that you’re sorry.”

"Uhuh, but what if he doesn't remember me anymore, Raph?"

"Well," Raphael placed both his hands behind his head, lolling back as he reeled a fish in. "There’s just no way. Based on your stories, I think he’s in love with you, (Y/n). You can't just ignore him forever, ya know?"

You raised an eyebrow, "yes, I can. It's not like there are tons of situations where I need to interact with the crown prince."

"Okay, true... But maaaaaybe you can try eating lunch with him!" Raphael brushed against your shoulder "There's nothing that can get people to open up like a good meal together. Maybe you can steal a seat– oh, and sneak in his favorites on his plate too."

You chuckled softly, "I think that method only works on you, Raph."

"Nonsense!" He said, shaking his head earnestly. "It also works on my baby sister!"

You snorted.

Your housemates are endearing. Truthfully, you never would have expected that it's comfortable in the Golden Deer. Your heart desired to become a Blue Lions graduate like your parents, but familial circumstances or lack-there-of forbade any opportunity. Had life been easier on you, your dorm wall would've sported your family’s blue flag.

And not Gloucester’s.

Since your parents perished in what is now known as the “Tragedy of Duscur”, Count Gloucester assumed responsibility of being your legal guardian. Your parents had always thought of Lorenz’s father as a close ally. Plus, this arrangement was better than living up the frigid north with estranged minor noble relatives who gave you an even more colder shoulder.

However, thread any less carefully around the Alliance, and you might find yourself under his conservatorship forever. You just have to thank the Blue Sea Star that you didn’t bore a crest lest you’d be engaged to Lorenz. Uncle Erwin is a wonderful father to him and he doesn’t treat you with malice either— but of course, he keeps an eye open to morally gray opportunities to exploit your title.

And that includes listing your name amongst the Golden Deers.

At first, you were hesitant in showing that you're an “outlier” in class, but it seems you fit the mold quite easily. Too easily. Not because you had been accustomed to their social norms, it is more like the fawns are oddballs themselves. The youngest was an enchantment waiting to explode, your largest was a total muscle-head, the house leader has a screw loose when it comes to strategic retreat and poisoning, and the rest are just as eccentric.

No one cares if you told them you have an affinity for theater here, and spoilers: they really did not give a damn. Except for maybe when Ignatz genuinely went "oh, that sounds wonderful, (Y/n)!" before the conversation digressed about Leonie's mismatched socks she bought on the market.

Oh, but Raphael and Claude did care when they found out that you might've had a long but faded friendship with at least four of the Blue Lions. Compared to Claude, you trust that Raphael comes from a good place whenever he brings them up. Since he and Ignatz were childhood friends who slowly grew apart, he has your best intentions whenever he suggests something that could reignite your relationship with either Sylvain, Felix, Ingrid, or Prince Dimitri.

Claude, on the other hand…

The house leader first emerged as a shadow, then he sat down and squeezed between you and Raphael, with his arm encircled around your waist. Claude's apparent lack of etiquette went unmentioned by either of you (you suspect Claude is part-Almyran), but you do intend to ignore him later like your "foster brother" does.

"Trading secrets about Prince Dimitri, are we? Won't ya invite poor me along in your little secret meeting?”

You sighed tiredly, "Claude–"

"I was just kidding. No need to give me that face," Claude raised his arms defensively. “My lips are sealed— I never heard a single word between you two, promise.”

The deers were a little leery of your prior association with the crown prince of Faerghus. Claude, who frequently pries into everyone's private affairs, persistently diverted your focus to the Lions. In fact, he once burned your favorite book to forcibly draw your attention to the library so that you'll share the same room with Dimitri. Talk about extremes, really.

But you did notice that there's something off about Claude this time.

“So what brings you here? There’s no way you’ve come here to fish.”

“Yeah, no…” He cringed. “I’d rather do the eating part.”

“Haha, you get it, Claude!” Raphael said before the two men shared a crisp high-five.

Ah, these fawns…

You sighed, “can we skip to the part where you explain why you’re sitting beside me right now?”

“Sure. Leonie wanted me to tell you that Lysithea told her that Lorenz was told by Prof—”

“Do you not know the meaning of “skip”, Riegan?”

“Nah, course I do,” Claude smirked. “It’s just fun to tease people who live in House Gloucester.”

“Sothis, have mercy.”

“As I was saying, Lorenz was told by Professor Byleth to tell you that Sylvain is now part of the Golden Deer.”

“…”

“… What?”

There was no dramatic gasp. Nothing sensational or derogatory comment was elicited from impetuous lips. You simply blinked and said the words "what? as if it were a simple joke. Claude needn’t explain that those were facts. Based on how he approached with worry written on his face that he failed to hide from you, he wasn't jesting.

You're reluctant to speak with Sylvain. You last spoke to him in earnest four years ago. Don't get it twisted, you do want to get back in touch with that philanderer's good graces, but where would you even start?

Dear Sylvain, I’m sorry for ignoring your letters? Dear Sylvain, I’ll reimburse you for all the theater tickets you gifted before without my consent? Dear Sylvain, I’m a garbage best friend?

… Knowing him, he’d likely frame that letter with careful preservation while the ink from his heaps of love letters faded inside his shelf collection. If you were to send similar letters to the other two, Felix would train to become a mortal savant and burn the letter out of spite, and Ingrid would have simply torn them up.

“WOAH!!!”

Raphael's chest caught your attention for a brief moment, and you quickly avoided him, concerned that those wooden buttons will suddenly protrude into your eyes. Your housemate captured the fish without even feeling his buttons tear apart from his outfit.

Goddess Messenger.

That’s quite an expensive catch right there.

But it felt like an omen for something.

“… I’m heading back to my dorm room.”

“Want us to go with you?” Raphael offered, but he reeked of fish.

“No, I’ll head there alone.”

Claude tilted his head, “Sylvain is probably there, you know.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But I’m tired.”

“I just can’t run away from the lions anymore.”

You should’ve taken your words literally.

Instead, the phrase "I need to get over this, fast" resonated in your thoughts, and you bolted as soon as the impulse to settle everything fueled your anxiety. You should have cared if someone got in your way, but you didn't.

“Ngh—” you flinched, bumping into someone’s back. “Whoops— sorry about that—”

You froze as you looked up.

Great. Just your luck.

“… What is there to be forgiven, (Y/n)?”

And of course, he called you by your first name. Your arguments against Raphael were demonstrably false. A futile hoax. Why even try to imagine that he might have forgotten about you?

Dimitri smiled softly, his eyes crinkling in delight. You gulped shakily.

After all, how can the crown prince ever forget his first love?

Now that you took a good look, his hair was much shorter than how it used to be and he grew positively taller. It’s a haircut you took a while to get used to, especially since you recalled how his hair used to hover near his shoulder. Not that you didn’t know about any of this information already. It’s just that you had to reassess those facts after seeing him up close. Perhaps a bit too close for comfort.

If only your last memories with him were as pleasant as his face.

He wanted you as his consort, but you had nothing to offer him. No land, no worthy title befitting for a king’s spouse, and no true inheritance in your arsenal at age 15. But when one has less to lose, they become more introspective. While clinging to Sothis' statue and pleading for life, they gain wisdom. Unlike the prince, you were not naive to what could befall the kingdom if you were to marry him. Instead, you sought asylum by knocking on Uncle Erwin’s door with the few loyal servants to House (L/n) left, and he accepted your offer after days of consideration.

His name will be tarnished as a young traumatized prince who copes by spoiling a love unrequited. But most of all? The loss of his friends and family would’ve developed his separation anxiety towards you more if you stayed.

The prince was something of a doormat teenager. He begged and nearly cried when you had accidentally slipped out that you’ll be allying with House Gloucester– but stopped his outburst the moment you chewed him out with hurtful phrases. Dimitri clung onto you like an affectionate pup and if his childhood self could latch on for the rest of his life, he would in a heartbeat. Perhaps it was the side-effect of being his first friend. He had always been a genuinely kind person, but he was always so caught up in whatever happened in the past.

Was it rational or heartless to leave him and the rest of your companions behind? Likely both, if you were to ask El.

That doesn't mean you don't occasionally catch a glimpse of him at the officer's academy. It's hilarious how, after Dedue performed his duties as a vassal, Dimitri now had to cope with a situation that was identical to yours. A "protector" so dependent… it was as though you were watching the prince try on your shoes. Your “you don’t have to shield me every time we go to the training grounds” line became His Highness’ catchphrase towards his retainer. And you’re not sure what to feel about that.

Was it comedy or plain karma? Likely both, if you were to ask Claude.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you bowed. There would’ve been more eyes on you inside the cafeteria if you hadn’t. Gossips of lese-majeste would’ve stirred even Lindhart awake. “Do you require something from me?”

Formal.

Too formal for him, but not formal enough for you.

Dimitri's brows wrinkled, and you briefly saw his lip tremble. His hands were behind his back, and one of them was discreetly and firmly gripping his wrist. That man had a pained, speechless expression on his face, and you don't hold him responsible when words fall short.

But when words do fail, you wished he could just stop talking whenever he feels overwhelmed.

“I…”

I miss you. So much.

You didn’t need to hear it to know what he wanted to say.

Princess Edelgard was right, Dimitri is wholly predictable.

He cleared his throat, ears turning red.

“It had been so long since we had last spoken, has it not?”

“It has.”

“Around 4 years, so I'd say.”

“Hmm. So it has,” you doubt he noticed how your words were curt and redundant, since he's too busy trying not to melt. “So it has.”

“Are you enjoying the Golden Deer house, s-so far?” Dimitri manufactured a smile. “I’ve heard you and Lorenz made for a wonderful tag team at the last House Tournament.”

Bullshit.

He didn’t just “hear” about it.

You saw him cheer for you giddily in that tournament.

There is nothing he can conceal from you. If he were as cunning as Claude, it might take you some time to discover who was responsible for leaving sloppy, "anonymous" love letters inside your dorm. There were also petals tucked inside. Pink camellias, a sign of longing.

“It’s a feat not worthy of your praise, your Highness.”

Seriously, you don’t want to hear him flatter you anymore.

“Simply untrue,” he shook his head earnestly. “I’ve also heard that—… Y… You are fond of Raphael. As a friend— of course. It’s relieving to know that you have many companions from different walks of life— which is to say, I approve of whoever you talk to, but—”

You’re not deaf. You noticed how much his words were about your relations with others. There’s no other interpretation to this other than jealousy.

Still, his face was red. He must be too caught up in the joy of talking to you that he didn’t care for how envious his words sounded. You laughed curtly. You want to remind him the reason why you left, but you can’t explain a thing despite desperately wanting to, just like him.

Dimitri wants you back, so much so that he's stuttering in every sentence.

But you didn’t reply to his ramblings. Save for the cafeteria hall’s chatter, it was silent. You’ve long accepted in your heart that your family is dead and you ought to coast forward.

And there’s no future where you will cut through a path beside Dimitri.

Besides, House (L/n) had histories of trading tactics with Leicester, and you cannot discount how people refer to your blood as sheeple with its loyalty. It’s a double-edged sword, one you’d utilize well if you close your eyes right now and ignored the heartbreak and yearning in his eyes.

And so, you closed your eyes.

“My apologies, I’m in a hurry so I’m afraid I have to get going. Farewell, Your Highness.”

Dimitri's eyes widened, trying to reach for your arm.

“(Y/n), please wait–”

But you were already gone.

“Hey there, (N/n)!”

It was only when you heard a familiar voice did you open your eyes again.

An attractive and familiar young man lazily leaned on one hand on your door, completely blocking your dorm room. “Are you gonna talk to me now, or are you just going to ignore me for the rest of the school year?”

He’s here.

You steeled yourself.

“Gautier…” You exhaled.

“Oof, “Gautier”, they said,” he frowned. “Not a single “I miss you, Sylvain”? No “gosh, sorry I didn’t talk to you for so long, I was just too shy to admit that I was wrong!”?”

You chuckled nervously.

“Perceptive as ever, I see.” But you weren’t wrong. Becoming a Golden Deer was the right path for you.

“Not perceptive, but hopeful really,” Sylvain shrugged. “Based on that reply, I’m glad my wishful thinking was spot on. You do miss me.”

“I do, but I now just realized I’m not prepared for this conversation,” you said, surprised by your upfront and composed anxiety. That talk with Dimitri seriously drained all the energy you garnered earlier. “Can we do this later?”

“No can do. I shall allow you passage if thee speaks from the heart,” he teased with his signature ladykiller grin. “Go on, say it~”

You sighed, burlesquely exasperated.

The two of you adore theater, so talks like these were commonplace. He’d mask his flaws when confessing sins in this manner, but you prefer to hear his real justifications. In any case, this is just another conquest for him to gad off and hunt some girls in another house— and your new professor is undoubtedly a sight to behold.

“Oh, Sylvain, mine dear friend, thou art missed for nearly half a decade, but mine fear did not condone myself to reach out.”

Like two birds of a feather, you also similarly mask your sentimentality.

Funny how you can easily say you miss Sylvain, but not Dimitri.

Sylvain smiled. Genuinely, this time.

“Good.”

The resolution was surprisingly fast. You were willing to bet you both anticipated a serious confrontation– a meeting that feels like a long-awaited class reunion after a war or so. But no.

The two of you are still flawed yet perceptive idiots after 4 years of not talking.

You both laughed in unison.

What were you worrying about anyway? You knew that at this point if Sylvain was angry at you for leaving, he should have grown tired of that emotion.

His primary grudge had always been the crest system, not you.

You should've had this talk earlier, he's the only one in the Blue Lions you were sure won't blame a crestless noble like you for those circumstances.

“Now move, Gautier.”

He stepped aside smugly.

…

You opened your mouth in surprised indignation.

“Why does my room look clean?”

“I had Mercedes help me clean it up the moment I took a look inside. Seriously, I can’t believe you managed to live in a complete pigsty—”

“It’s like you want to sour our reestablished friendship in under 5 minutes, Sylvie.”

“...”

“What? Too old to be called Sylvie nowadays?”

“No, keep calling me that,”

Sylvain never stopped smiling.

“Oh, and by the way? I miss you too, (N/n).”

“… There you are.”

As soon as Sylvain left the hall to your dorm, he was greeted by the sight of the crown prince lingering in front of the stairways. Unlike Sylvain, he was not leaning on anything while waiting. The prince stood straight, dignified.

Then again, Sylvain knew his royal motivations lie in jealousy— and that’s far from “dignified.”

Sylvain can tell from his stiff stance that Claude was particularly touchy-feely earlier, which was exactly why he requested Lorenz to relay the message instead rather than the house leader. His Highness must’ve seen how close you sat beside Raphael and then Claude. The Golden Deer's leader knew Dimitri was obsessed with you— he probably intended to provoke him for the upcoming Battle of Eagle and Lion. It didn't help that Dimitri had his eyes on you, always. If not him, then Dedue.

Not that Claude's scheme will work. Dimitri was satisfied just to see you smile, even when it pains him to acknowledge that it wasn’t for him or because of him.

Sylvain is an exception to that rule.

Dimitri had a cold glint in his azure eyes, but his gaze all but glared at Sylvain. He had a smidgen of control, for now. But it’s not long until what Sylvain had prophesied about the crown prince quipping a remark or two about staying away from you will occur.

“Waiting for me to explain my random decision, I’m guessing?”

“Oh, I simply liked standing here but sure, Sylvain! I’d dearly love to know the rational thought behind switching houses out of the blue. It is not as if Felix and Ingrid were worried about you,” Dimitri generously gave his princely smile.

Sometimes, Sylvain forgets it was physically possible for someone so austere with himself like Dimitri to say something laced with malicious sarcasm. But Sylvain knew Dimitri stood there because he was still worried about his friend, even when he pretends to be unbothered.

Like bread and butter, Dimitri and forced positivism complement each other disastrously well. The Blue Lions often caught him murmuring things like "I'm delighted (Y/n) is making new friends" or "I hope Claude continues to treat them well" despite having a glum expression on his face, obviously bottling up his envy. Felix finds it as easy as breathing to call him out on this behavior: "Why bother stalking them when you can't handle the envy you feel when they hugged Lorenz or held hands with Marianne? ”

His Highness never answered that question. He thinks had kept his feral thoughts at bay most of the time and will continue to do so.

Still… Raphael, Claude, and then Sylvain… Dimitri can’t catch a break.

Why do all these men keep approaching you?

Will you never recognize the perpetual anguish that befall him the moment you didn't reach for his hand and took Count Gloucester's that day? Have you no sympathy for the man that promised your protection— for the boy you trained and sneaked out when you thought the king wasn't looking? Whenever he wakes up the following morning without you, do you not experience the same emptiness and loneliness that he does?

Was it because he is a "troubled prince" nowadays?

Was it because he couldn't taste anything anymore?

Why did you eat saghert and cream with Ignatz instead of him at the cafeteria?

Why did these men have to ruin the one taste he can recall?

He lies awake every night to the sound of phantom screams from fallen soldiers, friends, and family against his hand-covered ears.

But you were his solace. His “God/dess”.

And just like with the Goddess Sothis, he lacked the means to grasp your hand...

If only his cold hands could wring those men's necks as well...

“... Do you really want to know, Your Highness?”

It took Dimitri a while before he snapped out of his trance. His voice dipped low, his breathing uneasy, and his eyes lacked focus.

Sylvain looked at him with pity Dimitri wished you spared him instead.

“Yes,” he exhaled. “It shall help our friends put their minds at ease.”

“Well, well, you're sure it's not because you'll miss me?”

“Sylvain.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell you,” Sylvain dreamily gazed up at the sky and boldly proclaimed:

“The new professor was hot.”

“Sylvain!—”

“Calm down, Your Highness! That was just a joke.”

Unlikely.

“I joined because (Y/n) is there.”

Dimitri froze.

The meaning behind those words could either be tolerable or impermissible enough to make the prince push Sylvain to the training grounds without remorse.

Sylvain’s not going to try and suddenly woo you now, will he?

You did grow more gorgeous after four years after all…

But Sylvain can't have you— Dimitri might just lose it. Out of everyone on campus, he refuses to let an adamant skirt-chaser take you.

“… Elaborate.”

“Elaborate? What’s there to elaborate?” Sylvain crossed his arms behind his back, now back to his laissez-faire attitude in life. He cackled to himself, absolutely unrepentant. “Is it bad that I want to reunite with an old friend? You know, before they were your friend, they were mine. Don’t forget that we’re both older than you, Dimitri.”

Multiple considerations led to why Sylvain chose to frolic with the deers rather than squander the school year at the lion’s den. One of these includes avoiding Ingrid’s nagging— he can’t be bothered having a pegasus pecking around while he galavants with (unfortunate) women.

But most of it boiled down to reunite with the one platonic relationship he missed.

Sylvain became Dimitri’s ally through you. Had you not approached Sylvain and Dimitri during one of King Lambert’s birthday celebrations, they wouldn’t have initiated a friendship through a children’s version of a bergamot tea party away from drunken nobility. More opportunities to befriend the prince would’ve likely presented themselves through Ingrid and Felix, but that memory of tiny cups and tea-stained shoes was special because it had you.

Because you were smart and kind enough to drag Sylvain out of his older brother’s schemes of public humiliation under the guise of being “invited” to an audience with royalty.

You were more of a sibling than Miklan ever was.

“By two years,” Dimitri stressed. “You’re only older than me by two years.”

“Your point? Doesn’t change the fact that compared to most students this year, we’re one of the older ones.”

He bit his bottom lip.

Age was one of Dimitri’s insecurities. It cannot be helped— if he were only older, people would’ve listened to his testimony for the people of Duscur more seriously— if he were only older, he would’ve had control over his uncle—

Dimitri’s knuckles grew white underneath his gloves.

If he were only older, then maybe you would’ve stayed by his side.

“What a lark. Are you attempting to compete on who had a better relationship with (Y/n)?”

“No, Your Highness, YOU are.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized that those pointed words he spoke aimed towards himself like a misthrown javelin.

"Let’s be honest, Your Highness. I’m saying this as a friend, but you could be a bit tone-deaf and insufferable around them,” Sylvain deadpanned. “You had some serious attachment issues and you never listen when they tell you to stop with all those creepy comments about protecting them forever.”

“Is… Is that so?”

Dimitri muttered to himself while looking at his shoes, sounding almost broken. He had doubts, but Sylvain’s words practically cemented that you’d be unwilling to spend time with him again.

“Besides, if this were a competition, you lost the moment I waited at their dorm.”

The prince’s head snapped back up like a confused puppy.

“Why is that?”

What a horrible thing to ask.

“Because (Y/n) just told me that they missed me,” Sylvain smirked.

“And if you were there, you could’ve heard them call me Sylvie too, just like the good old days.”

Since that talk with Sylvain, Dimitri wanted to make you as lonely as him.

Oh, how he badly wanted to whisk you away from that house– oh just how much he wished he could force you to wear his cape– to wear the color of the lions.

But none of that matters now.

You look prettier when doused in splattered red.

The soil sipped the blood that drained from Ignatz's head. It reminded you of the time you asked the painter if he could use blood as a dye. If he were to watch this scene, he would've waxed poetic about how he will be simply returning his life to the earth, but the beauty of death is lost on you. The gravity of war weighed far more than the theatrics of what-he-would've-spoken.

It’s been five years since the war started.

You had lost your voice two years ago the moment Dimitri kidnapped you on your expedition to Garreg Mach— you’ve mistaken him for a bandit and in a blind rage, he dealt a massive blow to your neck. Dimitri didn’t mind that you had lost your ability to speak he seemed to relish that you’re similarly deformed. He romanticized both your disabilities often. A “God/dess” who couldn’t speak and a “boar” who couldn’t quite see. What a royal pair indeed…

You can’t say your prayers now, but you hoped thinking about praying for Ignatz was enough…

Ignatz should've turned 22 this year. Based on the way he last behaved, he didn't seem prepared for this war and had been misplaced by Professor Byleth.

You’ll never be able to eat saghert and cream with him again.

You can't remember what tactic you used in this battle. Was it Felix who was assigned to stick ten feet away from you who had slain Ignatz? Or was it Ingrid who rode her pegasus to stab the sniper in a suicidal fashion?

This entire battle is a blur. You can no longer stand straight and aim your sword reluctantly toward anyone.

Why can't everything go back to how it was before? Why can't you just fish at the Great Bridge of Myrddin with Uncle Erwin again?

You wobbled down the grass as a wyvern obstructed your view with its proud albino scales cruising the sky. Claude sits atop, his face stony through a nearly unrecognizable expression of placid anger. His emerald eyes inevitably met yours.

You didn't stand with your sword supporting you, and he didn't draw his bow either. Instead, before leaving to find the bright red target everyone called an "Emperor", Claude mouthed words that only you two could understand. You uttered nothing in response. Even if Claude were to succeed, his scheme would be futile.

Sylvain can’t save you from Dimitri.

Like a fairytale, it begins and ends with the crown prince. It always had.

But if Dimitri was the protagonist of this story, then pray tell, what does that make you?

A damsel in distress?

The king's court jester?

All you ever wanted was for House (L/n) to survive, to preserve your family name and dwindling territory against House Charon. You desired the opportunity to emulate your father. A fearless front-liner and a skilled tactician.

However, you have not taken any real action to end this war. You moved like a weak infantry, unable to maintain balance on one leg or call out for upcoming danger.

You just can’t run away from the lions anymore.

"Get up."

You couldn't move, mortified.

His Highness is back.

"I said GET UP!!!"

His iron-like hands yanked your hair up, and you felt some of it weeded out by his sheer brute force. You wept immediately but held back tears. Despite your commitment to keeping your composure, he had torn away what little hold you had left on what you call "stability." Your knees shook as his tall figure began to drag you away. Each step felt more jagged than the last. Your heart beat erratically as you worried about toppling down– and when you inevitably did, he was there to pick you up.

For Dimitri, this situation was advantageous. Most Golden Deers are here, which meant he had opportunities to route them all. He had already stabbed Ignatz, incessantly. Each draw of his lance— each crack of the artist’s glasses and bones— rejuvenated whatever youth war had stolen from him. The future king of lions couldn’t stop grinning maniacally as his eyes lay upon a deer’s corpse. It was as if his sense of taste was coming back. All of his soldiers and classmates were too terrified to stop his senseless slaughter. If Gustave did not scold him about the oncoming army, he would’ve continued damaging the corpse senselessly.

But it’s only a matter of time until he shoots for the leader of the herd as well.

He still hasn’t forgiven him for using his beloved against him back at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. This was the perfect opportunity for revenge. Once they’re out of the picture, then it’s only Edelgard left who he had to worry about— but until then, he’ll have to take the deers’ lives for stealing his beloved away.

Shame that Lorenz had yet to be found.

"Tch. Fool."

He cradled you like a bride but gripped your jaw like a hostage. Dimitri's current appearance is much too different from what he used to be. Sweat and blood had greased up his unruly hair, and the blue cloak that was slung over his shoulders was much dirtier.

"I command you to eat."

It was almost sweet. Almost kind when his voice softened for just a millisecond. Almost touching how his one eye gazed upon your sunken features with disdain.

But your appreciation for it all vanished the moment he robbed something from Ignatz's corpse.

"Eat."

He shoved onto you Ignatz's last bloody loaf of bread. It was hard, yet soaked.

Your throat couldn't express how terrified you were upon holding it.

"Gone deaf as well, have we?"

He pushed the bread closer to your chest, effectively crushing it against you. Dimitri breathed against your ear.

"I SAID: EAT.”

Your tears and Ignatz's blood salted your food.

The bread tasted just like the ones Raphael's family had in their inn.

Ignatz… He probably got this from Raphael… Which means he's in Gronder as well…

You sobbed as you took a feeble bite.

Please… Please be safe, Raphael.

Dimitri saw your struggle. He saw your continued concern for those who were after his life and yours. Why do you spare sympathy for the bodies that got in the way between you and him? They did not warrant those tears. The weak must fall— even he too will join them someday.

And so, Dimitri closed his eye.

You’ve gone fragile in his arms, and that was not spoken in a romantic sense. He had fractured your right leg enough to make you use your sword as a cane, yet he insists on dragging you in combat. Time and time again, he forces you to witness what he is capable of and more till you’re unable to write complaints.

Dimitri wanted to reassure you that you’re on the right side of history.

That you can cut a path beside him— you just weren’t trying hard enough before.

And it was a challenge the prince can’t easily scale. You never showed your appreciation for longer than a minute. When he learned how to dance begrudgingly with El after she had poisoned him with thoughts that he could use her teachings someday to dance with you— you dared to ask Sylvain out during the White Heron Cup. When he tried to give you a more fancy dagger as well during El’s parting, you admired Sylvain’s coincidental parcel of theater tickets and tea leaves instead.

Sylvain, Sylvain, Sylvain—

It was always Sylvain.

His entire body shook from laughter. You shriveled in fear as his voice echoed throughout the battlefield.

The beast put you down underneath a tree's shade that he deemed as safe.

… and kissed your forehead.

“I can see him approaching us.”

Dimitri cooed mockingly.

“Shall I decapitate and mount that filthy rat's head on a silver plate?”

You didn’t need to hear him utter his name to know he was referring to Sylvain. It was tempting to challenge him on how he could say such a thing about someone who had once been a friend, but that inquiry wouldn't help. Dimitri cupped your face and wiped your tears away with his rough and heavy hands. You flinch so easily nowadays.

How adorable.

Five years ago, you won't move a muscle whenever he kissed your forehead good night.

Five years ago, he worried about accidentally waking you up and exposing himself for breaking into your dorm so often just to drop his unhinged love letters.

Five years ago, watching you rest allowed moments of respite.

However, it didn’t invigorate him as much as your tears did now.

“Fret not, my fellow monster, I shall fetch it for you,”

He tightened his grip on his areadbhar, scanning the right field. The lance's crest stone glowed, and there was no looking back after that.

You’re here now, and he will NEVER let you leave. He won’t have a repeat of what had occurred when Count Gloucester was present around nine years ago or so. He’ll protect you this time, and it no longer mattered to him if he were a corpse or a monster in your eyes. It mattered not that he no longer slept. He intends to keep you alive and by his side, just like what he had promised in his childhood.

You can't even begin to imagine how much being away from you ruined him.

He had reached the point where he will kill everyone that tried to touch you, and he won’t have someone else do it, too.

Was this love or obsession? Likely both, if you were to ask Lady Rhea.

But what does Rhea know about Dimitri’s mental state anyways? She’s been missing for years now, she might as well be dead to you.

Without thinking, you grabbed his cloak. He patted your head but his eyes were locked on the cavalry unit from afar, and the dark and sinister smirk on his face solidified your fears.

Sylvain approached faster, and you did your best not to cry.

If he dares to fight Dimitri in the state he is now, then he might as well be a dead man walking too.

You wished you didn’t have to join the Golden Deer house— you wished Sylvain didn’t follow suit— and you wish you didn’t leave Sylvain behind. You did not doubt that if it hadn’t been for you, Dimitri would have concentrated only on Edelgard and joined forces with Claude to eliminate her. It would have given this historical period a more coordinated scheme. History won’t have to remember you as the catalyst that made things worse.

"(N/n)!"

You heard Sylvain yell from behind Dimitri, which only made your heart ache more.

It's been years since you last heard his voice again.

Dimitri took your warm hands and brushed his cheek against it, no matter how obvious it was that your eyes yearned for someone else’s touch.

He looked at you with such a soft gaze that you nearly forgot the monster he had become.

“Once we hang his head on our bedroom wall, you have no right to complain about missing “Sylvie” ever again, my beloved.”

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