#Thank you for your prompt! I love doing these

[melrodrigo]

music nerds

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.

A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.

It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.

“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.

“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.

He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.

When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.

You sigh softly, shaking your head.

Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.

You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.

You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.

They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.

Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.

You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.

Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.

“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.

“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.

“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.

It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.

You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.

“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.

She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.

She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.

You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.

“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.

She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.

Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!

You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.

“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.

You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.

You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.

“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.

“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.

She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.

“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.

“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.

“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.

“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.

Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.

You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.

“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.

You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.

“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”

She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.

“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.

“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.

She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.

When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.

“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.

You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.

You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.

“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.

Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.

You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.

She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.

But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.

You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.

“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.

It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.

You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.

She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.

“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.

“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.

You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.

“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.

You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.

“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.

His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.

“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.

“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.

You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.

“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.

“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.

You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.

“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.

You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”

“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.

For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER THREE

03 : SHOPPING (2/2)

CHPT. SUM. : so many stores are left on the list, the boys finally eat delicious food outside, detours are a natural endeavour and you meet a collection of interesting shopkeepers. what a day~ 

LENGTH : 10k

TAGS : fluff ; fun day out ; sirius and regulus being precious ; they're just kids ; reader is mother of the year ; reverse comfort ; OC ; visions ; original walburga makes an appearance ; she doesn't stay long though ; money isn't a problem ;) ; domestic fluff ; sibling fluff between sirius and regulus ; marauders fix-it-fic

← PREV. | 02 : SHOPPING (1/2) | SERIES M.LIST

“Two what?” Sirius asks, your attention snapping towards him and breaking contact with the grey-haired man standing before you.  

“Do you need a new wand too, Mother?” Regulus speaks up from your other side, swiftly following after his older brother. It was clear from the differences in their elocution that they differed greatly. One was much louder, with a sharp tongue and an audacious attitude to boot; the other was of a more gentle demeanour, equipped with a clever mind and observant eyes.  

Mr Ollivander leans back with an amused smile waiting to see how you’d react and whose question you’d answer first. 

“The two of us need wands today, Sirius,” you hum, hoping your nerves don’t show through in your voice as you switch between the two. It was adorable how similar their curious looks appeared when staring up at you.  

“Why is that?” your eldest asks curiously, the question reflecting similarly in your youngest’s eyes. 

“My wand appears to be having some problems lately and, well,” you raise your gaze to meet eyes with the wand artisan behind the counter, “I was hoping Mr Ollivander could help the two of us today,” the light streaming in from the windows above reflects off Ollivander’s grey hair to create a glowing outline encircling him. His peculiar portrait reminds you of how idiosyncratic he is, like a living ghost who’s able to touch superior levels of magic and wonder. It's mysteriously intriguing but just as harrowing too. He was able to deduce so much after so short of an interaction, after all. You stare at him silently, a gentle prompt to help you and your eldest son with your homogenous need for a new wand. 

“I like to focus on one client at a time,” the look he gives you offers up the decision of who should go first to be made by your small family. 

Before you can say anything, Sirius speaks up with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, “Ladies first, Mother,” he announces politely and your heart melts at his consideration. You coo and awe at his gesture while dropping down to his height where you press a loving kiss to his forehead. 

“Thank you, my darling. You’re such a gentleman,” Sirius beams at your praise as Regulus meets his eyes to the right of you and grins widely. The two easily share in the small joys they’ve been able to experience around you. They don’t want to seem rude so the two of them secretly cheer at the headache you suffered to be able to change this drastically, “However," you comb your fingers through his hair lovingly, "you’re the star of the show today. Why don’t you go first, my dear?”

Sirius doesn’t refute, too distracted and pink-cheeked by your affection to do anything but nod. He then turns to Ollivander, who smiles down at him kindly. The oddness surrounding the wand artisan, however, cannot be missed and Sirius is cautious to proceed forward. 

“Your name, young man?”

“Sirius Black,”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sirius. Please step behind the counter and we can get started on finding you the perfect wand, shall we?” Sirius glances one more time over his shoulder and observes the encouraging nod you give him; his heart calming from the reassuring pat you give atop his head. Another moment passes before he is led behind the counter by Ollivander. The elderly wizard proceeds to give him a short once-over before disappearing between two ceiling-tall shelves, stacked full of stored wands. 

“Do you want to watch your brother find his wand, Regulus?” you ask, kneeling to level with your youngest.

“Yes please, Mother,” he nods with a shy smile, “but I don’t know if I’m allowed past the counter,” 

“Don’t worry,” with a smile, you carry him up in your arms, “I can seat you on the counter instead,” for the brief moment you rise, he stays in your embrace. However, when you go to place him on the counter, you find that Regulus doesn’t want to be let go.

In a whisper, you ask if he’s alright, “Can you just hold me like this?...please?”  His answering whisper melts your heart and you can't find it in yourself to say no. Even if your arms begin to ache, you aren’t going to set him down until he wants to be set down – you’re determined! 

“You mean you don’t know which wand is for me?” Sirius’ words ring with curiosity more than judgment as he looks up at Ollivander. 

“I’m afraid not, my boy,”

“Aren’t you supposed to know?”

Smiling fondly, Ollivander begins to explain the process, happy to answer the questions of a curious child, “Ultimately, it is the wand that chooses the wizard, Mr Black,”

Sirius contemplates Ollivander’s words for a moment as Regulus gasps in astonishment beside your ear. The awe and interest are evident in the youngest’s silently twinkling grey eyes, matching that of his elder brother. Their wonderment is clear and both are equally skilful in concealing it.

“How will I know that a wand has chosen me?

“You’ll know,” Ollivander nods. There’s something in his pale eyes that makes Sirius keep from asking anything further. Something that says ‘trust me’.

Together, you and Regulus watch over the counter as Sirius tests out a variety of wands. 

At one point Sirius makes several misplaced papers catch fire, which makes you giggle quietly. Regulus stiffened in your arms momentarily at the sight of the sudden flames and only seemed to relax as soon as he heard your soft laughter. It isn't until he presses his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder that he finally draws your attention. It didn’t seem like an issue to press further about so you gave his small back a few reassuring rubs and continued to watch over Sirius – perhaps Regulus was feeling a little exhausted already. Despite the disastrous flames, Ollivander had the situation handled and simply magicked away the fire before rummaging around for a different wand, muttering softly to himself as he did so. It wasn’t until Ollivander came back with a jet-black wand with familiar-looking markings carved along its body that you smiled to yourself. This was the one. 

“Try this...” Ollivander offers up the wand but after the previous incident, Sirius is much more hesitant to proceed. He was only able to resume the testing when Ollivander flashed him a kind, reassuring smile - though he remained hesitant and stiff. Sirius was too scared to turn and see your reaction to the commotion he had just caused. But it was an accident! Surely you’d understand– “Give it a wave, then, young man,” Ollivander's chuckle was able to ease some of the stiffness from his limbs as the markings beneath his fingers urged him for a sturdier grip before giving the black wand a small flick. 

Appearing from the tip of his wand, a small circulating breeze moves through the room, not caring for the mess it makes of any unfiled papers nor the rattling it causes amongst the stacked boxes of wands. The breeze eventually returns to circle Sirius, ruffling his hair and clothes before eventually dying down to leave him looking bedraggled.

The result was quite confusing to the ordinary eye, which worried you, but not for the elderly wand artisan. Ollivander slaps his knee and throws his head back with a laugh. “Now that’s a match if I’ve ever seen one!” His words make Sirius stare up at him with wide eyes of disbelief. 

“Really?”

Ollivander kneels beside him with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s quite a choosy wand, my boy. Wands made out of jet black Ebony are happiest when in the hands of those who are not afraid of being themselves, sticking to their beliefs no matter what external pressures there may be,” the elderly wizard’s words washed over Sirius and flooded him with a feeling of vindication. He felt light and there was a flutter in his chest. In his short life so far, it’s been so hard to adhere to his convictions, and he has never before felt so validated, “you, young man, have a very courageous heart,”  Ollivander’s words make you smile widely. 

You set Regulus down as Sirius makes his way back to you. The two brothers share a hug but Sirius is still unable to meet your eyes. It isn't until his younger brother pulls away from the embrace that Sirius finally wills himself to look up at you. Regulus can see the slight fear in his older brother’s eyes and he knows the exact cause; Regulus was scared too. Regardless, you haven’t done or said anything to further his fears so the younger brother tries his best to be optimistic and flashes his older brother a small smile as if to say ‘it’s going to be okay’. 

Biting his lip, Sirius finally turns to find that you’ve come down to his height. Rather than a scowl on your face for his earlier misbehaviour with the discordant wands, he finds you smiling brightly at him instead. Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled him into your arms. One hand presses against the back of his head and encourages him to bury his face into your shoulder as the other splays across his small back to give him supportive pats. 

Beside his ear, you whisper, “I’m so proud of you, Sirius,” pulling away your eyes find that his own have significantly watered, holding back tears. Tears of joy, you assess and deliver a small kiss on his forehead. 

“You’re not mad at me? For setting fire to the papers earlier?”

“Of course not!” you protest and pull him into your tight embrace once more, “I’d be surprised if I don’t set something on fire when trying to find a new wand too,” he giggles against your shoulder and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, “I’m so so proud of you Sirius, you have your wand now, and you’re going to be attending Hogwarts soon,” you sigh into his dark curls and mutter against his temple, “Far too soon…”

Relieved by your reaction, Sirius can finally digest your words and the sincere tone behind them. He’s never heard his mother praise him or voice how she’s proud of him but here you were, whispering rare words for him to hear only. He doesn’t know if he could ever feel happiness like this ever again. It’s hard for him to even describe - he’s just so so happy. 

It’s your turn to get a new wand now and the process is entirely the same. Ollivander goes through a selection of wands for you to test the feel of, giving each one a chance to see if they want to become your companion or not. After going through the first handful, you manage to light a stack of papers on fire yourself and when Ollivander swiftly distinguishes it, your group shares a laugh. 

“See? I told you it would happen to me too,” you smile over your shoulder at Sirius who giggles with his little brother. 

A few more inharmonious wands go by before Ollivander hands you one that's made of a light-coloured wood. The design of its body was very elegant and emulated a pattern that was reminiscent of vintage stone pillars. Widely spaced vertical ridges run along the main body and lead towards ornate, uniform designs that either look like curling leaves or crashing waves. It’s beautiful but what matters is whether or not the wand chooses you.

Flicking the wand, a spark of light escapes from the tip and you prepare yourself for another pile of papers to be set on fire. However, you’re pleasantly surprised when the light floats through the room as if it were swimming through water. It reaches Sirius and Regulus, where it proceeds to circle each of them before departing and leaving a warm touch that lingers on their cheek. The light eventually returns to you again, where it orbits your figure several times, enveloping your silhouette in an ethereal glow before disappearing. In its wake, it leaves a path of warmth that loiters in the air, suspended like the many particles of dust dancing in the light filtering in through the high windows.  

Smiling in success, you hold the wand to your chest and turn to your boys who had begun to cheer for you. You could have easily lost yourself in the moment if it weren’t for your keen ears picking up on Ollivander’s mutterings. His words were all in a whisper and not meant for anyone else’s ears.  

“How fascinating…” the elderly wizard smiles whimsically to himself again, “the singular wand whose properties are the precise opposite of the original became your destined companion,” you meet the pale, almost translucent eyes of the wand artisan, who smiles at you as soon as he finishes muttering to himself, “it’s truly an honour to be able to witness the pairing of an Applewood wand,”

“Why is that?” Regulus asks before you can even react. With a smile, Ollivander moves to the front of the counter and bows at the knees to his height. Their eyes lock like that of a patient but talented teacher and his diligent student. 

“There are many properties of a wand that can be attributed to the reasons why it chose its ultimate owner, one of which is its wood. Your brother,” Ollivander gestures to Sirius, “has himself a wand that is made of Ebony wood, while your mother has herself one that’s made of Applewood. Applewood wands are very powerful indeed, I can assure you of that,” you find yourself leaning closer, eager to learn more, just as much as your two sons were to learn of their mother and the nature of wands, “their owners are typically ones who harbour ambitious goals and even higher principles. As a result, there stands a positive correlation between possessors of Applewood wands and the life they tend to live,” your breath remains trapped in your throat, held there by anxiety as you tensely anticipate Ollivander’s successive words, “they live a life that is long and where they are well-loved,” the relief was great and one that you were desperate to maintain. You know what you're setting out to do is going to prove a difficult challenge but it is going to be worth it, as long as your two boys are happy and by your side.    

Together, both wands cost 14 galleons. And, despite the excitement you first held for meeting such a distinguished Harry Potter character, you were eager to leave, slightly scared of the amount of knowledge he potentially held. At the very least, you were able to depart on a good note

Naturally, the next order of business was to get all of Sirius’ robes and uniform at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions shop. That would be on the north side of Diagon Alley and, considering you were on the south side for Ollivander’s wand shop, you needed to direct your boys back up to the North. You admit, it was quite inefficient to go from Gringotts, which was North, to Ollivander’s (South), only to go back North when all the shops you had left to visit were up there. There were many shop names that you recognised on the way down, however, it was best to get the only singular South-side shop from your list out of the way so you could spend the rest of the afternoon easily hopping from shop to shop in the North-side. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” you ask, noticing that Sirius has been staring off in one direction for some time, completely motionless and glued into place. 

“Nothing… let’s go,” he grabs a fistful of your dress’ skirt but you already noticed what had captured his attention. 

“A joke shop…” a small grin tugs on the corners of your lips. You remember the child-like wonder that washed over you whenever you watched the scenes featuring Fred and George Weasley’s joke shop. This joke shop isn't theirs but you wonder if it’s just as remarkable. 

Sirius had no hope of ever convincing you to take a look, especially when most of today would be packed full of shopping at other shops for his supplies as a first year. In his insecurity, Sirius was only able to muster a quiet, “...yeah…” 

“What a good idea,” you smile brightly and take both their hands into yours, heading in the direction of the shop happily named, ‘Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop’, “Let’s have a little look shall we? A small detour like this can’t do much harm,” Sirius was smiling from ear to ear as soon as he overcame the shock your agreement brought, “Although, I'm afraid I won’t consider buying anything,” a treat like that is meant for another time...

“That’s okay!” Sirius cheers and hurries along, making it to the door before you could and holding it open for you. 

You’re beginning to realise a recurring discrepancy between the size of a shop’s exterior compared to its interior space; the joke shop is considerably larger on the inside compared to its outside appearance. It added to the joke factor of the store itself - how funny that it appeared so deviously small on the outside. 

The entrance was lined with shelves filled with an assortment of joke items, all were vibrant and eye-catching. It was hard to enforce any form of restraint when your eyes couldn’t stay in one place too long, nor could your feet. There were several other children with their parents roaming the galleries of jokester paraphernalia too. Only then were you finally able to focus your gaze on your two, fascinated boys, not wanting to lose them.

“How undignified!” your eyes roll at the scratchy, annoying voice that invades your head once more, “No child of mine should ever be seen in a Joke Shop!”

“Oh Shut up, let my kids be kids,” you retaliate, folding your arms loosely as you observe Sirius dragging around his younger brother by the hand. Regulus happily heeds, not needing to be dragged to be able to shadow his older brother. Nevertheless, their small hands remain connected. The scene made you smile warmly, they’re the cutest boys you’ve ever – you want to prolong their happiness and give them as many opportunities as possible to experience the same delights over and over again. 

“THEY’RE NOT YOUR KIDS!”

“YES. THEY. ARE!” shaking away Walburga’s shrill screams, you try to focus on the ground beneath you. It’s best to end this argument quickly, you don’t want to faint in the middle of a joke shop and ruin the day for your two boys; it's barely started. 

You didn’t prolong your stay but enough time was spent there for you to witness Sirius’ certain appeal towards a particular item: a purple box of stink pellets. Smiling to yourself, you make a mental note of the fact before leading your two boys out and back to the north side of Diagon Alley. 

It’s a relief that most shops offer delivery services, you don’t believe you would be able to carry all of your purchased items home. 

At Madam Malkin’s, you bought all the necessary uniforms and robes for Sirius to have. Being an established house and family, you were attended to right away despite your insistence on no special treatment. Sirius was then measured and the appropriate sizes for his robes and other items were brought back to be tried on. He looked somewhat embarrassed from the attention but you couldn’t help yourself. There are many joys of being a mother and one of them was the ability to brag about how beautiful and exemplary your child was. To anyone within earshot and to those who, both, cared and didn’t care to listen, you openly talked their ear off about Sirius. Said son grew redder and redder with each expression of praise that left your lips without an ounce of hesitation. 

Was he hearing right? You're just joking with him...but you sound so sincere. Surely those other people don't care, why are you such talk on them?!  

“He looks all grown up, I’m so so proud of him,” Sirius’ ear tinted a faint red. 

“I worry that he’ll attract too many girls’ attention and grow a bad reputation over breaking too many hearts. But, then again, look at his handsome face, of course, they would fall for my son,” Sirius looks to the side, trying to find interest in the cracks of the shop’s walls -- a weak attempt at distracting himself from the flames in his cheeks. 

“I can already tell! He’s going to achieve so many great things, I just know it!” Sirius looks over and narrows his eyes at his giggling younger brother. Wait until he has to go through the same thing when he starts his first year! 

“Yes yes, I know your son looks wonderful in his robes too but look at my son! His robes look like they were made for him!” try as he might, Sirius can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. His heart swells up in his chest and threatens to burst from the amount of happiness your endless praise fosters in him. 

Just as the checklist states, you made sure to get three sets of plain work robes in black, a pointed hat, a protective pair of dragon hide gloves, a black winter coat with silver fastenings and, lastly, name tags to attach to all items. The total amounted to 28 galleons and 44 sickles. Madam Malkins offered a service that stitched on the name tags for you but you kindly refused. It’s a tedious task but you wanted to stitch the name tags on yourself; you had the time and you wanted to do your due diligence as a mother. This is your job and you aren’t going to hand it over to anyone else. You were told to expect the owl delivery within a week. 

“How about a break?” you suggest upon seeing a sudden fall in your boys’ energy. Their once slumped shoulders suddenly tense and the two peer up at you with cautious eyes. Despite the amount of progress you’ve made in cultivating a mutual rapport with them, it appears that some phrases put them on high alert regardless of the harmonic atmosphere. 

“It’s okay mother,” Regulus hurriedly assures, his smile now much smaller and wrinkled at the edges from superficially conjectural nerves. 

“Yeah, we’re not tired, we can continue shopping just fine,” Sirius continues, reaching out to hold hands with his brother as they stand before you with identical ambivalent expressions. It breaks your heart. Their words are simple but their actions are heavily veneered by a thin veil of coy nonchalance. 

“Aren’t you two hungry?” you ask, crouching down to meet at their level, where you’ve gotten into the habit of being able to converse deeply with them. Keeping their gaze, holding each other’s attention and listening closely has led to so much understanding and that’s all you want with them. 

They look at each other from your question. Sirius can see the obvious hesitation in his younger brother’s eyes and he gives his hand a small squeeze. Usually, Sirius was the more outspoken one, never letting his fears show while allowing his tongue to run and verbalise all the thoughts and opinions in his head. It was his small bit of freedom in a house that was so set on censoring him and his many opposing views, despite his young age. Oftentimes, his parents would guilt him into thinking that he was being a bad influence on Regulus, simply by voicing his views, which are usually opposite to those of his parents. Regulus had a much softer disposition, however. While Sirius carried about smug confidence and had a deficiency for self-preservation, Regulus reigned in studiousness and quiet wit. Sirius knows that his younger brother is gifted but his bright mind shouldn’t be cultivated under such oppressive practices and methods. If that happened, Sirus feared that his darling, little brother's gift would be reduced to nothing. There's no way that Sirius would let that happen to his baby brother, which is why he’s so vocal! But… what's changed? 

Now he was hesitating, his throat clogged up, his palms were sweaty…he was scared. Scared to have you look at him with disapproval or disappointment. Sirius doesn’t know what happened to you, his mother, but you’re different now, he wants to love you and be loved in return. You’ve shown him that you can give the tenderness he desires, you’ve proven that he’s loveable and that he’s worth your time and attention. 

He’s scared because if he makes a single misstep now… he’s going to lose that. It’s much harder losing something you’ve known, felt, and experienced than losing something that never existed in the first place…

“My dears?” you whisper with concern, leaning forward ever so slightly with furrowed brows of worry, “what’s wrong?”

“We’ll have to go home to eat…” Regulus confesses softly. He avoids your eyes as he fiddles with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and completely misses the confused look on your face. 

“It is not proper to conclude important errands prematurely,” Sirius explains as if reciting from a rulebook,  “...and we don’t want to go home yet either…”

“We’re not stopping entirely,” you reassure, petting their soft hair affectionately and rewarding them with a kind smile as soon as they raise their hopeful faces to you, “we’re just having a lunch break, my loves,” 

“You mean…” Sirius begins. 

“We’re eating outside?” Regulus continues. Both look astonished at the notion. 

“Of course, it’s better than eating back at home,” it then occurs to you a simple explanation for their odd behaviour, “Do you two not want to eat outside?”

“No!” Sirius jumps over-excited before a flash of realisation flourishes in his grey eyes and he quickly drops back, “No, it’s not that, m-mother,” 

“W-we’ve just never eaten outside before,” Regulus explains shyly, “you have us on a strict dietary regime as a proper gentleman wizard of the Black family should be,”

“I’m putting a stop to that ridiculous ‘diet’ as soon as we get back,” they perk up at you but are quickly ushered forward to the nearby pub; unable to press you further on the matter.

Stepping into the Leaky Cauldron, you're greeted by the comforting aroma of hearty meals, mingling with the faint scent of crackling firewood and a faint fog of cigarette smoke. The space is a cosy retreat from the chaotic cobblestone streets outside. From the ceiling hangs several candle-lit chandeliers made of blackened iron, its flickering lights casting a warm glow upon the worn wooden tables and mismatched chairs positioned about the room. The walls are lined with shelves displaying an eclectic assortment of magical curiosities - from peculiar potion ingredients preserved in jars to enchanted artefacts that seem to hum with hidden power. An array of portraits decorate two parallel walls above brick archways. The portraits contain inky sketches that move about freely, some interacting with other portraits as a few characters walk between the varying displays. You guess they might be disappointed to realise that their selection of landscapes are largely the same - plain - but having the freedom seemed sufficient for them to stay jovial enough. At the heart of the room stands a grand fireplace, its flames dancing merrily within its brick frame. Its ochre light casts playful shadows across the room, socialising with the silhouettes of fellow bar guests.

Lighting within the pub relied heavily on candles so the atmosphere was quite dim but the tall candle illuminating the centre of your table gave the time spent there a very idyllic ambience. The two were unfamiliar with the menu items so, with their permission and trust, you ordered in their place.

Since Sirius didn’t mind what he got, you ordered for him Hunter’s Chicken. Regulus said he had a liking for fish so you got him a classic plate of Fish and Chips. For yourself, you got the cottage pie. For drinks, they got apple juice while you had a hot tea. Thinking back on the bland meals served at the Black family household, you’re certain that they were in for a treat today. 

It doesn’t take long for the meals to be given out after your beverages; thankfully all of your entrees were delivered together. In front of Sirius were two succulent chicken breasts wrapped in smoky bacon and smothered in a rich and tangy barbecue sauce, baked to golden-brown perfection. 

He takes his first bite and moans in amazement at the taste. The tender chicken yields effortlessly to reveal layers of savoury goodness - the sweet and smoky notes of the bacon harmonising with the bold tanginess of the barbecue sauce. Every mouthful he takes thereafter struggles between going slow or fast, the symphony of textures and tastes, leaves him craving more of the hearty dish. He doesn’t think he’s ever tasted something so appetising. Why couldn’t the food at home taste like this?

Regulus had before him a plate displaying a golden fillet of flaky fish. It’s encased in a light and crispy batter, served alongside a generous helping of thick-cut, crispy-on-the-outside-fluffy-on-the-inside chips, garden peas and a small ceramic of tartar sauce. Having not seen this appearance of a fish dish before, Regulus looks up at you with a curious look as if to say ‘What is this?’. You greet his curiosity with a sympathetic but patient gaze. 

Gently, you urge him to squeeze the lemon slice over the battered fish and nod when he timidly follows your instruction, “Now give it a try, my darling, I promise you’ll like it,” 

…and like it, he did!  

With each bite, Regulus is met with satisfying crunch after satisfying crush. The exterior is perfectly fried, giving way to the tender fish within. The delicate cod melts in his mouth, introducing the delicate flavour of the fish, complemented by a sprinkle of salt and the squeeze of fresh lemon. Together they create a harmonious balance of savoury and tangy notes that dance happily over his palate. 

“It’s delicious Mother!” Regulus grins with partially stuffed cheeks and crumbs of the batter decorating his lips. Sirius nods enthusiastically beside him, unable to speak from stuffing his mouth full of his chicken dish. 

“Big brother, you have to try some!” you watch with a heart swelling up from adoration and pride as Regulus offers a big chunk of his fish and places it onto his brother’s plate. 

“You too Reggie!” Sirius does the same with his chicken, generously offering up a portion from his plate. Once the two try a bite of each other’s meal, an explosion of ardour lights up their grey eyes, creating a galaxy of endless constellations in their wake. They are so precious. 

Giggling at their antics, you turn to your dish and begin to eat. In all honesty, seeing them enjoying their food for the first time had your stomach already halfway full. So you happily offered a portion of your cottage pie as well. They wanted to say no but you were much too convincing and when they offered a bite of their dishes, you explained that you were already getting full. 

They were named after stars but at this moment, their eyes held a galaxy of their own, just from tasting a delicious meal. You want to see them like this all the time…maybe you should begin cooking in the kitchen again? It was a hobby of yours that you enjoyed, baking too but found limited time to partake in it when your business had exponential growth.

Throughout the meal, you often forgot your unfinished plate to be able to tend to your boys. They’re not usually this messy but they were enjoying their food so well that they couldn’t help themselves. They haven’t tasted food this good before! 

“You two are so messy,” you joke, giggling to yourself as you reach over with a napkin to wipe at the edges of their mouths while they chew their food. A look of shame crosses their adorable, sweet faces and they slow their mastication, avoiding your gaze. 

“Sorry mother,” Regulus apologises meekly as Sirius mutters a similar apology beside him. 

“Whatever for?” you pout at them, “I love seeing you enjoying your meals so much,” their expressions relax slightly when they turn to gaze up to witness your kind smile, “maybe I should get a cookbook and begin cooking up some delicious meals at home for you two, hmm?” a wide grin overcomes them, their astonishment quickly washing away from their elation at the prospect.  

“Really mother?!” hopefulness makes Regulus’ voice raise an octave higher as Sirius bashfully stares up at you. 

“You’d do that?... For us?” Sirius’ voice comes out unusually shy. 

“Of course,” you shrug nonchalantly, trying to temper your exuberant grin, “I was getting tired of the dull, tasteless meals anyway,”

The main topic for the next visit was Eeylops Owl Emporium. 

In your head, you remember the dark feathered owl Sirius owned in the films who had a horrible habit of biting people. Surely it wouldn’t affect the timeline drastically if you bought a different owl for him. It’s been on your mind how you would like to write letters to Sirius regularly, especially during his first year. You might even convince Regulus to join you so you could send your letters together; you didn’t want your son getting bit every time you wrote a letter to him so you’ll be getting him a different bird for all prospective deliveries. 

Upon entering the shop, you encourage your boys to explore and keep a lookout for an owl that would be suitable for Sirius to have for school. In the meantime, you tried to pinpoint the owl with the terrible biting habit so that you may be able to steer Sirius away from ever encountering the bird. You don’t understand why Sirius would have ever decided to get a bird like that in the first place so if he manages to find it before you and decides he wants it, you don’t know how you’ll be able to convince him otherwise— 

“That insolent thing bit me!” as the original Walburga’s voice enters your head, an image of the familiar black-feathered owl flashes behind your eyelids. 

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

‘The amber-eyed owl, quick as lightning, launches its head forward with a vicious snapping of its beak. Successful in its attack, you reel your arm back – except it’s notyourarm – with a shriek of fright and pain. Upon looking down, you observe the torn fabric of your sleeve as well as the lacerated skin of your arm – still not your arm – which begins to bleed a crimson red. Anger and embarrassment flood your veins as you prepare to curse at the insolent thing but stop when your eyes lock onto the hidden smirk of your eldest son. 

“I want that one,” he says, a devious twinkle in his eyes. Before you could protest, his negligent and, often, preoccupied father, steps towards the shop clerk to request the owl for purchase. Orion hadn’t seen the vicious beast attacking you; too eager to return to his work and rushing through the list of school supplies needed for Sirius' first year. The man you call your husband only has himself to blame for waiting so late, only a week was left before Sirius had to depart for Hogwarts but, thankfully, most delivery services didn’t require that long to complete shipment.

“Let's hurry along then,” Orion clicks his tongue in displeasure over the sudden slowing of everyone’s pace, “we must be done by noon, I have better things to be doing!”

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Wh-what the–?” blinking rapidly, your vision of the present slowly returns as you reach out to grasp onto something just to steady yourself. Unlike all other squabbles, the original Walburga doesn’t return to elaborate in her screeching voice; she is unusually silent but you’re too dazed to point it out. 

You don’t realise what’s happened until you’re flinging your arm back with a sharp cry, cradling your arm to your chest. 

“Mother!” Regulus runs up to you with furrowed brows marked by distress, “Are you okay?” he reaches for your arm and you bashfully show him your injury, inflicted onto you by a black-feathered owl. The cheeky thing tilts its head at you as if it’s done nothing wrong and merely proceeds to preen its feathers, unbothered by the whole ordeal – so rude.

“Not that one,” Sirius glares at the malevolent bird, narrow eyes filled with malice before turning to you with a softened look of concern. 

“It’s alright my darlings,” you smile reassuringly at them both, “it’s just a scratch, let’s look for a different owl, alright?” 

It took a while to calm the boys enough to distract them from the mishap and finally return to the task at hand. You're injured but you, thankfully, didn’t have to do much to convince Sirius about choosing another owl. Only… The fact that your injury looks identical to the one that appeared on the arm of (what you assume) is the original Walburga’s vision, was disconcerting. 

You make mental notes of everything that happened in the short period, not wanting to ponder on the sinister details just yet, not when you were having such a fun day with your two boys. 

In the end, Sirius settles on a majestic barn owl with beautiful gold and white feathers. The shopkeeper informed you that the owl was a female as he prepared all the additional items you wanted to have with the owl; treats, a small care guide, its cage, water bowl, food bowl, and all of its necessities. You don’t want to acknowledge the shopkeeper’s suspicious gaze as it periodically falls on you. It was beginning to make you feel self-conscious and you’re eager to distract your racing mind. This was probably all original Walburga’s doing. You know how much of a bitch she is but her reputation is proving to be incredibly troublesome when it comes to interacting with other people. 

“What will you name her, Sirius?” you ask, hoping your voice doesn’t give away your discomfort. Thankfully, your question is a good distraction for everyone, including the shopkeeper. 

“I don’t know…” Sirius ponders to himself, “Maybe… hmmm… Owletta,” he grins cheekily, proud of himself for the creative name. You can already see the marauder in him and it makes you grin as well. 

“That sounds very fitting,” you wink at him as Regulus giggles to himself, enjoying the given name as well, “great choice,”

“What happened to the last owl you purchased?” the shopkeeper asks suddenly, finally finished with preparing all the items and eying you warily. You feel Sirius and Regulus’ eyes on you from his question as well and hurry to make an excuse. This situation has grown very uncomfortable.  

“Last owl?”

“Yes, the screech owl, from last week,”

“It was for a gift…to a friend,” you smile innocently despite your awkward wording, grateful that the shopkeeper doesn’t ask any further questions although he does appear reluctant to hand over Owletta. But with an impatient flap of her large wings, he hands her over inside her cage. She probably felt the taut tension of indecision in the air far worse than you.  

“10 galleons…” you gladly hand over payment and usher your boys out. 

This has the original Walburga's name written all over it. 

Continuing with the shopping, your next stop was Flourish and Blotts for Sirius’ books. The list of publications needing to be purchased was long, amounting to eight volumes of knowledge ranging from magical creatures to history and magic theory. You were tempted to read through the books yourself and learn a thing or two but didn’t want to appear lacking. As unfortunate as it is, you’re supposed to be the Walburga Black, a very proud, ‘high-class’ witch within the wizarding world, meaning that you had to be proficient in, at least, 1st year of wizarding knowledge.  

Fortunately, there was an owl delivery option for the books, which saves you from carrying the heavy load but you’re beginning to feel sad for the poor owls subjected to delivering such a package. Not only that but you worried for your poor Sirius’ little shoulders and arms having to carry around those heavy books at Hogwarts. You hope to god there’s a magic bag that could carry many things without transferring the weight onto you. From the books and the delivery fee, everything costs 14 galleons in total. 

It wasn’t listed on the official school supplies list but you had the foresight to go to Scribbulus Writing Instruments to buy an assortment of inks, quills and parchment. Sirius and Regulus were fascinated by the colour-changing inks available, some transitioning between two to three colours and some cycling through much more. At first, you found it odd that they hadn’t encountered such a simple and commonplace magical item before until you remembered their parents and all the unfortunate implications that came with that realisation. It made your fists clench in anger and had you impulsively buying a small pot of each colour-changing ink to the surprise and subsequent delight of your two boys. 

“Y-you didn’t have to do that Mother,” Regulus comments shyly with a soft pink glow dusting his cheeks as he cradles a small pot of colour-changing ink in his little hands. That particular one was his favourite, if you remember correctly, it transitioned through an array of blue hues. He looks so adorable; you don’t know how you were able to resist reaching down to pinch at his pudgy cheeks. 

“Of course, I had to,” you huff with a playful sternness before leaning down and bringing them in close to whisper for their ears only, it was as if you were telling a century-old secret. Intrigued by your actions, they lean in with rounded eyes of wonder, “But promise not to tell your father, he doesn’t deserve to know about our secret ink stash,” Sirius grins mischievously as Regulus' cheeks dimple. Nodding firmly at each other, your agreement was sealed and the three of you continued with your shopping spree. 

The next stop was Potage’s Cauldron Shop, where you purchased a small cauldron before getting potioneer equipment and a telescope from Wisearce’s Wizardry Equipment. Again, like all the shops before, it was incredibly touching to be able to see your son's eyes sparkle in fascination and wonderment. You can practically hear their thoughts. Even though Regulus has to wait another year before he can attend Hogwarts, they’re both glowing with enthusiasm and alacrity to learn and experience something new. It just makes your heart ache a little over how you’re going to be mostly absent from that venture, seeing as Hogwarts is a boarding school. In the meantime, you’ll savour having them with you now and spending the little time you have with Sirius worthwhile and carry that on with Regulus while his older brother is at school creating chaos with the rest of the marauders.   

Sirius’ assortment of school equipment was quickly piling up and so was his excitement. It was an excitement that proved to be very contagious as Regulus stood to his right, absorbing the delight that flowed from him in wave after beautiful wave. Seeing such precious smiles on their faces, it was hard to believe that the first day or so was filled with them fixing you with permanent scowls or passive expressions that were too mature and ill-suited to their youthful faces. These gorgeous smiles suited them a lot more… and you want to keep it that way. 

Stepping back out onto the cobblestone streets, you look around with your mental list of shops that still need visiting but find your gaze stopping on the sign of a quaint, unassuming shop dubbed ‘Belby’s Potions and Ingredients’. You don’t remember ever hearing of a shop like this being in Diagon Alley but that’s to be expected, the world building wasn’t very expansive in the Harry Potter movies or books when it came to Diagon Alley, and this is without considering that you were in a different era of the Harry Potter Universe. You’ve already come across some shops that you’ve never heard of before but sit comfortably, right at home, amongst the other recognisable shops in the district; this one in particular shouldn't strike you as so intriguing.

“Is that where we’re going next, mother?” Sirius speaks up, snapping you out of your dazed state. 

Smiling shyly, you make a small confession, “It’s not part of the list, I’m just hoping for a little detour to get you familiar with potion ingredients before school," you skillfully fib, "is that okay with you boys?” asking for their opinion and giving them a choice to agree or disagree always seemed to make them happy. It’s a freedom and a luxury, that they were rarely given when under the real Walburga’s ‘care’ so they were more than happy to oblige. 

“Of course that’s alright,” Regulus looks past the skirt of your black dress to meet eyes with his brother, “right, Sirius?”

“Yeah!” grinning happily, they hold your hands in their much smaller ones and start pulling you along to the shop, their enthusiasm making appear like normal, happy kids, “let’s go, mother!”

Looking up at the sign once more, you allow your curiosity to spring forward. Indeed, you can’t recognise this shop before your transfer into the Harry Potter, Marauders era universe but the name ‘Belby’ definitely piqued your interest. It’s on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t quite place where you recognise the name. 

Entering the shop, you were presently enticed by the entirely separate atmosphere it presented. Unlike most of the other shops that were, either, barely lit or bursting with colour, the atmosphere of this shop was remarkably serene. It was pleasant. A good change of pace. Switching from two extremes of decoration, it was relieving to finally find one that danced in the middle, leaning towards an aesthetic that was homey and unsophisticated. 

Your two boys were quick to begin surveying the shelves of products themselves - a library of carefully crafted potions and their ingredients. It was clear that they too, were welcomed and put at ease by the cottage-core aesthetic of the dwelling. There were dried bunches of flora hanging from the walls and ceiling, some with cute blossoms, frozen in their prime, whilst other herbage sported brittle stems and frail, veiny leaves. The colours of the ingredients and tightly packed potions meticulously measured into phials were somewhat muted but in a very pretty sense. It was like opening a beloved, ageing book and diving into its wondrous, antiquated tales, freckled with wise passages that transcend all time and languages. The shop was very small but also very charming and well-loved; you felt right at home.

As your two boys weave through the isles of merchandise, a genial voice calls out to you, “Welcome to Belby’s Potions and Ingredients, I’m Damocles Belby, how can I help you today?” at the front counter, you observe a man in his mid-thirties with a full beard and moustache framing a no-eye smile. Slowly easing himself out of his merry greeting, his eyelids unfurl to reveal a beautiful pair of honey-amber eyes. He looks kind; his affable demeanour is just as welcoming as his cosy shop. 

“Hello sir,” you hope your smile conveys, at least, half of the warmth of his own, “I’m just taking a look around, thank you,” he gives a soft ‘ahh’ of acknowledgement before nodding, “My two boys are also around here somewhere. My eldest son will be starting his first year at Hogwarts next month so I wanted him to get a little familiar with the potion ingredients he’ll be encountering at school,”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” Damocles grins in approval, chuckling to himself at your chest swelling with pride for your son, “what is your son’s name?”    

“Sirius Black,” you announce fondly, the friendly atmosphere coming to a screeching halt when realisation washes over Damocles’ features. The once cordial air has plunged to freezing temperatures within seconds, prickling your skin with goosebumps. 

“M-madam Black,” he greets formally with a bow of his head. It’s clear that Walburga’s reputation is notoriously menacing but you’re not her and you kindly ask that he refrain from such discretionary (in your eyes) behaviour. 

“I’m simply a mother to my sons and a wife to my husband,” a disgusting, pile of shit that’s a complete waste of oxygen, who doesn’t deserve the title of father or husband, “that is all,” your answer doesn’t soothe him as you’d hoped it would but your attentions are soon required elsewhere when you’re both drawn to an even cosier corner of the store. 

Led there by the whisperings of your two sons, both accompanied by a tired yet melodious voice, you are greeted with the most charming sight — your boys sitting at the foot of a rocking chair, where a frail but equally kind-looking woman slumps into, her pale blue eyes shining with fondness at them as she embroiders a shimmering pink thread into a plain square of cloth in her lap. She’s dressed modestly, with her top hiding her arms in long lantern sleeves as her collar stretches up her neck. The long skirt of her dress looks layered, puffing up at the sides of her seat and what little skin you would have seen at her ankles are covered in thick socks. You wonder if she’s cold at all. Or maybe she’s just a very unobtrusive person with a likeness for coquettish and demure fashions.      

“How do you know how to make the flowers if you don’t draw them first?” Regulus asks, peering over her lap in an attempt to catch sight of her work between her elegantly working hands. 

Sirius nods and adds to the conversation with his question, “Yeah, and why aren’t you using magic like everyone else?” 

“It comes with a lot of practice,” she answers your baby first before turning to your slightly older baby, “and I do it because I enjoy embroidering; besides…” she turns her work over to them, allowing you a glimpse of her masterpiece as well, “it always looks prettier when I embroider it myself,” your two boys ‘ooo~’ and ‘aaah~’ at her work. The interaction draws a soft giggle from you while the shopkeeper beside you sighs quietly – he sounds relieved. 

“Are you feeling better, my dear?” Damocles steps up to his wife, placing one hand on the head of the cane that’s kept beside her rocking chair. His other hand reaches up to curl his fingers into a shy ringlet of her blonde hair. They are a loving couple, a 'one true pair'. 

“Mr Belby, you need to stop being such a worrier,” his wife chides playfully at him, abandoning her embroidery to smile lovingly at her husband, “and besides, there’s nothing for you to fret about when I’m around such good company,” her comment makes you smile widely, proud that your two boys were growing a reputation of their own, ones separate from the infamous Black family. You can handle the stares and uncomfortable accommodations for your prominence but you wouldn't stand for them to experience it too. 

“Right, of course,” Damocles nods with a short but airy chuckle and nods at the boys thankfully when they shuffle their way back to you. Sirius and Regulus had never seen such an affectionate couple before; their parents weren’t like that. And, although they wish they could grow up under such a soft and healthy model of love, they know that it wouldn’t be possible; to them, mothers and fathers don’t normally show affection for each other and that was how it was going to stay between their parents. There was no use in hoping. 

“You must be these two young men’s mother,” Damocles’ wife meets your gaze and smiles, her beauty unable to be masked by her pronounced ailment, “My name is Ruth Belby, I see you’ve already met my worry-wart of a husband,” the two of you share a laugh before you’re able to introduce yourself as well. Unlike her spouse, Ruth's first reaction was not fear but rather surprise, an astonishment that quickly melted into a soft smile. 

“You two have a very lovely shop,” Sirius and Regulus nod eagerly by your sides, agreeing with your comment, “it’s so much cosier than all the other shops around here,”

Damocles’ expression softens, his eyes mirroring sweet honey before he presses a kiss to his wife’s temple, “It’s all because of my wife’s keen eye, I catered this place solely for her palates’ enjoyment,” 

“I’m very lucky in that sense,” Ruth’s twinkling laugh rings out as quickly as it gives way to a coughing fit. It sounds as though she’s trying to hack up a serrated knife, the sound of it making all witnesses' hearts shake with panic except for Damocles', who rushes about to quell her discomfort. He hides his worries well. His expression is completely neutral as he offers her a crisp glass of water, however, his other hand reveals his true sentiments – his true fretfulness. As soon as she's had her fill of the glass, Damocles offers up a phial of magenta liquid that you’re all too familiar with, “darling, there’s no need for that,” Ruth’s nose scrunches up at the appearance of the healing potion. 

“It’s for your own good, please Ruth. I only want for you to feel better, my dear,” she grumbles and whines but eventually gulps down the healing potion, taking a moment to get over the ghastly taste before changing the topic. Your eyes fall onto her with sympathy. That potion is truly disgusting. 

��That’s enough about me, I hear that this young man is going to be attending Hogwarts,” Ruth gestures to Sirius as you fondly bring up a hand to comb your fingers through his perfectly permed hair. 

“Yes, he’s growing up far too quickly…” you hum, melancholic despite only being with your newly acquired sons for a little over a week. Sirius’ ears tint a soft pink and he shyly peeks up at you with pouting lips. 

“Growing up is normal…” he utters like a grump. 

“I know,” you sigh in gentle acceptance, “but I quite like you as you are right now,” Sirius’ eyes widen in disbelief and his cheeks burn as pink as his ears. It’s an expression that makes you smile warmly, you like the appearance of it on him, he needs to express it more often, “I want you to stay like this with me just a little bit longer, is that too much to ask?” 

“...not really,” you didn’t expect him to answer but it was in a whisper so you had to lean down ever so slightly to hear him clearer, “I’ll try to stay like this a little longer for you…if you want,” his comment, heard by you and Ruth, have you both cooing at him as Regulus grins hard enough for his dimples to show again; his older brother’s rose-red face is so funny to look at! 

When it comes time for you, Regulus and Sirius to leave, you thought it would just be a regular goodbye but not for your two boys. They've made good friends with the couple, especially Ruth so a memorable adieu was in order. 

Regulus bows to Ruth like a true gentleman while Sirius places a small kiss on her knuckles, whereby he then turns to his younger brother and says verbatim: that’s how a true gentleman bids farewell to a beautiful lady. The gesture of your eldest made Damocles’ eyes bulge out as Ruth laughed aloud, her shoulders shaking as her eyes lit up in glee. It's a relief that she didn't have a coughing fit this time. You, yourself, don’t know why you were so surprised. It appears as though Sirius’ philanderer ways didn’t start in Hogwarts; he already had the potential even before attending the boarding school. 

With another wave of your hand and a glance over your shoulder, you leave the couple whilst leading your two boys to the door in front of you. 

It was then that you saw it… 

In Ruth, you saw your past self. It was like looking into a mirror, a mirror into the past where you couldn’t have children no matter how desperately you wanted to have ones of your own. Like you, she probably had a list of names picked out in her head already. Like you, she probably pictured their innocent, beautiful faces in the appearance of other children. Like you, she envied the mothers who were able to conceive and desperately wished for a miracle to happen only for that miracle to never materialise. It was a mix of hopeless yearning and doleful forbearance. From your peripheral, you discern a similar impression on Damocles as he stands beside his ill-stricken wife. 

Damocles Belby… why does that name sound so familiar to you?  

The boys did so well today. It was long and arduous and you could see the sun beginning to set, however, it’s never too late for–

“Ice cream?” Regulus asks with glittering grey eyes. 

“We can have two scoops each,” you announce, eager to reward yourself as well, “we deserve something delicious for our hard work today,” Regulus was bouncing on the soles of his feet, something both you and Sirius noticed.  

“You can go first Reggie,” Sirius smiles at his little brother, who turns to you with pleading eyes.

“Can I choose my flavours myself?” he asks to which you smile and nod. Eagerly, he looks through the collection of available ice cream and decides to go for, “one scoop of strawberry and peanut butter, and one scoop of apple crumble please,” he seems proud of his order and is soon savouring it with the happiest expression on his face. It’s unexpected but he, undoubtedly, has a sweet tooth. A studious, quiet boy with a secret love for sweet things - how charming and precious. 

“Can I have one scoop of the clotted cream, and one scoop of the sticky toffee pudding please,” just like Regulus, Sirius was soon delving into his ice cream too, both teetering on the edge of wanting to devour the rare, cold treat whilst also trying to make it last as long as possible. You giggle at their antics briefly before ordering your own two scoops from the same vendor who smiles at you kindly. In his gaze and wrinkled but dexterous fingers, familiar and elegant with their motions, express a love for his craft and a love for those who show their appreciation of it – the simple act of enjoying their ice cream was payment enough to him. 

“Thank you kindly, sir,”

“Not at all mam, enjoy yer ice creams,” the man offers a slight tip of his head upon accepting payment. 

On a nearby bench, Sirius, Regulus and you sit quietly together and finish your doubly topped cones, taking the time to observe passing wizards and witches while enjoying the little time you have left of your day out shopping. You don’t think the day could have gone any better, and Sirius and Regulus don’t think anything would be able to transcend the fun they’ve had. 

Meeting each other’s eyes, Sirius and Regulus silently agree that today has been the best day they’ve ever had, not knowing that you have plenty of great days lined up for them. 

NEXT. | 04 : ... → | SERIES M.LIST

A/N : it's finally here, my promised, final update before i go on my hiatus. i'm sorry it took me so long to get out to you darlings. after my indefinite hiatus announcement, i got really busy. however, i'm sure you darlings would be happy to know that my situation has gotten better. it's not to the point that i feel like i can comfortably write but i'm definitely getting there so i can confidently say that I can see myself returning from my hiatus later on this year. in the mean time, i hope you darlings enjoy this chapter and please take care! i love you all so much and i'll see you soon x 

TAGLIST : @ttulipwritezz @ireallywannasleep127 @cloudlst @fortheeeefics @younmey @googie-jeon @unstablereader @cassie6392 @kneelforloki @enamoredwithbella @arcanumofthestars @bookworm124 @sonics-atelier @yours-truly-maya @honkravenous @theunwcnted @venuseuripedis @fredsbetch @iciel @anuncalledbridge @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @delusional-4-fake-people @linaax

#sirius black #marauders #regulus black #sirius black fanfiction #regulus black fanfiction #the marauders era #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #dob series #Divorcing Orion Black series #walburga black #mother reader #isekai #fix it fic #marauders fix it fic

[witchywithwhiskey]

Hi Molly<3

How about captain Syverson and

“be still” - “i can’t” - “yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?”

morning cuddling with the love of your life

pairing: boyfriend!captain syverson x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, morning sex, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, pet names (bunny), morning cuddles, established relationship taken to the next couple levels 👀

word count: 1,800ish

a/n: ahhh thank you so much for sending in this prompt—and for requesting my second favorite captain!! this one is just pure smut with a very fluffy ending, i hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

The sunny spring morning began, as all your mornings had since you’d started dating Captain Syverson, with some sleepy cuddling. You’d only been dating a few months, and he hadn’t moved in yet, but Sy always seemed to end up in your bed—even the nights he worked late—and you enjoyed him being there. You loved falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his warm comfort too much to say anything about it.

That morning, the sun was shining through your bedroom windows and casting a yellow glow over everything. But it was chilly beyond your blankets, the spring day not having yet been warmed by the sun, and you were happy to stay in bed. You were still half-asleep when your fingers started searching for Sy’s broad, warm body, pulling yourself closer once you found him, humming happily when he wrapped his thick, beefy arms around you. 

You sighed contentedly with your face buried in his chest, your body settling into his comforting embrace as you breathed in the woodsy, familiar scent of his skin. The hair dusting across his burly chest tickled your cheeks pleasantly and you shifted closer, hitching your bare thigh over his hip. Because you wore only one of Sy’s t-shirts, your uncovered core pressed to the soft cotton of Sy’s boxers, and you felt his bulge twitch against your warmth.

A little shiver raced down your spine, but you were still too sleepy to do anything about the length hardening between your thighs. Besides, Sy didn’t seem inclined to take things further yet either, as he rumbled a deep snore.

The both of you dozed for a little while, until a deep, reverberating groan in Sy’s chest roused you again. It was only then that you discovered your hips were rocking gently against your boyfriend’s cock, stirring up a heat that crashed through your body as soon as you became aware. A soft gasp left your lips, and Sy groaned louder, knowing you were awake.

“Ya gotta stop, or ‘m not gonna be able to let ya sleep anymore, bunny,” Sy rumbled, his voice far too warm with sleepy pleasure to sound the least bit warning. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his beard tickling your skin, and you smiled into his chest, enjoying the heat curling deliciously through your body.

Stretching up, you reached blindly for Sy’s mouth, your eyes still closed and, after some fumbling, managed to kiss your boyfriend good morning. His arms squeezed you tightly as you kissed lazily, knowing you had all the time in the world to spend the morning in bed together.

“Maybe I’m done sleeping, daddy,” you murmured against his mouth when you broke the kiss. You rolled your body more purposefully, grinding your naked pussy against the bulge in Sy’s boxers and delighted in his grunt of pleasure. “Maybe I wanna feel you stuff that big cock of yours deep in my needy pussy.” 

Sy rumbled a chastising sound. “Christ, the mouth ya got on ya, bunny,” he muttered. Still, he slid his big hand down between your bodies, cupping your pussy possessively and thrusting two fingers inside to test your readiness. You were wet and slick for him, and he dragged a moan from your lips while he fucked you. His tone managed some menace as he growled, “Maybe I should shove my cock into that filthy mouth of yours and show you what dirty girls get for rilin’ up their daddies.” 

“Nooo, please,” you begged, pouting up at him and fluttering your lashes in the way that had Sy’s cock twitching against your thigh, his precum leaking onto your soft skin. “I’m already so wet for you, daddy, would you really deny me when my tight little hole is dripping and begging for you?” 

With a tortured groan, Sy rolled you onto your back, his hips settling between your thighs and pushing you open wide with his broad body. Pulling his fingers from your pussy, he slipped them into your mouth, and you eagerly sucked your own arousal from his skin. 

“Good girl,” he rumbled, the hint of a smile curving his mouth. 

While you were busy cleaning his fingers, Sy shoved his boxers down and lined up his cock with your entrance. He smacked your messy folds with the heavy head of his cock, watching as your eyes went heavy lidded and you moaned around his fingers. He removed them from your mouth and grinned when you let out a desperate whine. 

“Daddy, please,” you begged on a gasp, writhing beneath your boyfriend’s broad form.

Thankfully, Sy wasn’t interested in any more teasing and he pushed into your needy, aching hole. Your back arched up off the bed and you let out a sharp cry, enjoying the feeling of his thick cock stretching out your tight cunt. No matter how many times he fucked you, it always felt like Sy was pressing the air from your lungs and rearranging your insides to make room to accomodate his fat cock.

“Feel so fucking good, bunny,” Sy groaned when he was buried inside you, his balls pressing against your ass. For a long moment, he stayed there, his eyes closing like he was savoring the tight warmth of your body. “Christ, I could live in your cunt—ya feel like you were made for me.”

He was so big and hard and hot inside you that you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, your knees climbing his sides so he could push even deeper into your cunt. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix and you moaned loudly, your inner walls gripping his hard length like your body wanted to suck him even deeper. You were practically folded in half beneath the beefy body of your boyfriend, but it wasn’t enough, you needed him to move, to fuck you—to empty his balls into you and fill you up with his seed.

“Be still.” The words were little more than an unintelligible growl from your Sy’s mouth. 

You whimpered, your hips rocking up against him, fucking yourself on his cock ever so slightly. Even if you wanted to stop, you didn’t think it was possible—not when you needed him so badly. “I can’t.” 

“Yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?” Sy’s hand gripped your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. “If you don’t stop, I’m not going to be able to hold back,” he warned, his face grim with barely leashed desire. “I’m gonna flood your unprotected pussy with my come and I’m gonna knock you up—is that what you want?”

Even if you’d wanted to lie and tell him it wasn’t at all what you wanted, your body answered Sy’s question for you, your cunt squeezing his cock even harder, like you were wordlessly begging him to put a baby in your belly. But you knew your boyfriend would never do anything if you didn’t say the words, so you forced your mind to focus through the pleasure and delirious need to get the words out. 

“I want it, daddy,” you admitted on a whimper, crying out when Sy pulled back, only to surge forward and make your whole body shake with the force of his thrust. With your confession out in the open between you, it seemed to loosen your tongue and a flood of words fell from your lips. “I want you to knock me up, I want you to put a baby in me—your baby, Sy—I want you to make me a mommy, please, daddy!” 

“Jesus christ, bunny,” Sy ground out as he pounded into you, his hips slapping against your thighs while he thrust deep into your cunt. “Ya want daddy to breed you—ya wanna be daddy’s good little breeding bunny, huh?” 

“Yes, yes yes,” you cried, gripping Sy’s broad shoulders, your cunt squeezing his cock. You were so close. “Breed me, daddy—Sy, please—please!” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, pausing to reposition his hips. Then he was grinding against your clit with every brutal thrust into your cunt and it wasn’t long before you screamed your release. Your whole body clenched tight, making Sy groan like he was in pain as your pussy gripped his cock so hard, his release quickly followed yours. 

Sy captured your lips in a messy kiss, his beard burning your cheeks and chin as hips stilled. You felt his cock twitch deep in your fluttering cunt, and the rush of his come overflowing your pussy, dripping down your ass. You shivered and moaned into Sy’s mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders and neck while your bodies came together in the most primal way possible.

When you were finally sated and the last of his come had been wrung from his cock, Sy rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. Your bodies were still connected, the evidence of your releases making a mess of the both of you. You sighed contentedly and snuggled into Sy’s chest, a happy smile on your face.

“I s’pose I should officially move in, huh?” Sy asked, a bit of playfulness seeping into his deep, satisfied drawl. 

“You better,” you muttered, putting a little poutiness into the words, which made Sy chuckle. Pushing yourself up, you gave Sy a kiss before pulling away and shooting him a stern look. “Then you might wanna start thinking about putting a ring on my finger,” you said pointedly, arching one of your brows.

Sy grinned so wide, it made his beard twitch. Without looking away from you, he opened the bedside table drawer and pulled something out. You didn’t see what it was until you felt him slip something onto your left ring finger. With a gasp, you finally looked away to see the pretty engagement ring he’d just put on you.

“Way ahead o’ ya, bunny,” he murmured, tipping your chin to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “Assuming it’s a yes, of course.”

You snorted. “Of course, it’s a yes,” you said, a giggle of joy in your tone. Then you kissed him again—and again and again and again. 

Eventually, you settled back down on Sy’s chest, unable to keep your eyes off the ring, turning your hand this way and that so you could admire the way it sparkled so prettily in the bright morning sunshine. Already, you were picturing a spring wedding—Sy would look so handsome in a suit beneath an arch of spring flowers…

Your head spun a little with how much your life had changed on that spring morning, but you couldn’t be happier. You were going to become Mrs. Syverson and start a family with your captain—but the best part was that you’d get to start every morning cuddling with the love of your life. 

And you couldn’t wait.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x you #captain syverson smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #jamneuromain #established relationship

[headkiss]

hellooo for the summer asks I was wondering about our boy Eddie and going to the beach with him and feeling insecure about our body, but ofc he’s a sweetie so he makes us feel better 🥹 just some hurt/comfort my love 🫶

thank u so so much for ur request baby!!! ily i hope this is okay <3 | 0.8k of fluff, tw for problems with body image

The sun beams harshly on your shoulders from your spot on the sand, a towel serving as the only cushion beneath you, eyes squinted behind your sunglasses.

In a rare instance, the group’s schedules have all lined up and given you the same day off, and immediately, that meant packing up Eddie’s van full to the brim with coolers and towels and more people than seats and driving to the beach.

The drive had been a blast, Steve and Eddie arguing steadily over what music to play, Robin egging them on even though she’d dance along to anything. Eddie’s hand had been a comforting weight on your thigh the entire ride.

Now, hours of sun and swims later, hair messy from the wind and water, cooler much emptier than it had been earlier, you’re watching the gang play volleyball (you say this loosely, because there’s no net nor is there an established court).

It’s fun, to be a part of a group of friends this way, to watch such an uncoordinated game where everyone is smiling and having fun despite there being competition involved.

You’re having fun, too, laughing every time Eddie trips or winks at you and says “this one’s for you” before hitting the ball in a random direction. Then, there’s the way Steve calls “mine!” every time the ball comes anywhere near his side of the ‘court,’ even when Robin was even closer, prompting them to start bickering.

So really, it should be all light and easy. A relaxing day at the beach with your favorite people. And it is, until it isn’t.

One second, you’d been smiling at the game, shifting your sunglasses off of your eyes and using them as some sort of headband instead. The next, your eyes were wandering around the beach and noticing everyone else.

Noticing the way the other people around looked. Girls brilliantly tanned in their triangle bikinis, denim shorts fitting them perfectly. Or the guys in their swim trunks and how carefree they look.

You can’t help but see everything they are that you aren’t. Or, that you don’t believe you are.

Things like this creep up on you in funny ways. Like a chill that just passes through, sudden and unavoidable. A simple thought snowballing into a hundred small ones shaped like arrows aiming towards yourself.

You shift to cross your arms over the soft of your exposed stomach, suddenly wishing you’d brought more than a tank top to cover up with.

Eddie snaps you out of your thoughts with a call of “you sure you don’t wanna join, sweetheart?”

You muster a halfhearted smile as you shake your head. “I’m okay.”

The two words are enough to tell Eddie that you aren’t exactly okay at the moment. Your smile not reaching your eyes the way it should, that line between your eyebrows worried the way it shouldn’t.

When you aren’t looking, he signals Argyle over to take his spot in the game and jogs over to you, sitting down next to you and nudging your shoulder with his. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Eds. You didn’t have to stop playing,” you say, though you can't deny that the warmth of his arm brushing yours feels nice.

“Hey, look at me,” he urges you gently, his knuckles catching your chin to nudge your face up to his. “It’s just me. You can say it.”

“It’s silly,” you shrug. Eddie pins you with a look that says ‘try me,’ and because he’s the sweet boyfriend he is and because you trust him and love him, you do. “I just- I looked around and just noticed all these people and the way they look and I’m not-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, his voice painfully soft. His brown eyes even more so, shining in the late afternoon sun. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m not just sayin’ that. I mean, you’ve seen the boners you give me, so…”

“Eddie,” you scrunch your nose and slap his chest lightly, though you’re fighting back a smile.

“I’m serious. Look at me compared to these people, babe. I look different, too. I’m not ripped or anything, and I’m pale as fuck. Like, ghost-level.”

You look at him, the frizzy curls framing his face and the curve of his cupid’s bow, to the tattoos dotting his skin and how his abs are just barely visible beneath the soft of his tummy. The way his cheeks and chest are a little pink from the sun. He’s perfect to you. For you.

“I think you’re pretty, Eds.”

“Well I think you’re fucking pretty, too, sweetheart. That’s my point,” his arm slings itself around your shoulders, tugging you into his side, uncaring of the heat or whether or not you’re sweaty. “Different doesn’t mean bad. It just means different. And I love you and your different, okay?”

You like the way he says it, like it’s a fact, like he’s never once thought otherwise. You like the way he trails his fingertips up and down your arm, too, like it’s an instinct.

And, well, when he dips down to kiss you all sweet and slow and sure, you think it’s the prettiest you’ve ever felt.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson request #eddie munson requests #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson blurb #eddie blurb #eddie blurbs #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson hurt/comfort #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie

[guacamoleroll]

Muse! I’m so proud of you for reaching 1k!

I’d like to request Cinnamon Rolls with Fyodor and the prompts “Consummation”, “First time” and “You’re mine” for the event ⸜( ˙˘˙)⸝ 

(If it’s ok, can it be the first time for both the reader and Fyodor? I’d love to read some virgin Fedya smut)

content. f!reader. not-safe for work content (MDNI 18+), body worship, virginity loss, discussions of religion, overstimulation. not proofread.

author's note. thank you, hio! i hope this little slice of smut cheers your day up. i've discovered that while i can write down-bad, feral smut, i oftentimes stray towards something a bit softer, but i hope you all enjoy it!

would you like to see more? fill out the updated taglist or comment here!

You should have known better than to fall for a Demon.

At least, that's what everyone told you.

Your relationship had been formed on fallible foundations, and no one could understand the reason you stood at the altar with no hesitation in your choices. But others did not need to be privy to the private affairs between you and your husband, whose piercing eyes, which concealed the secrets of the world, looked upon you with an infatuation that could only be found in a first love.

But you did not realize he would be so determined to consummate your newfound covenant; his stormy mind which lied rot in yearning, unsated from years of self-isolation from his own kind, never faltered at sharing such vulnerability, too tempted by the taste of yours.

"Ahn-! Fedya," you wept through pleasured tears. Despite him sharing in your lack of experience, he unraveled each layer of your being with practiced ease, prying each piece of your pliant body as if he were stripping a flower of its petals—only for him to touch and tease and worship.

He reveled in every whimper and moan that was excavated from your lips, a hum lying on his own as his heart brimmed with the greatest pleasure a man could know as he brought you to the edge. Over and over. And it was only once your eyes had clouded over for the nth time, distant as you grasped onto anything for stability, that his gaze softened, and he allowed himself to satiate his carnal urges.

"Ты моя." His prayerful whispers did not pardon the sinful manner in which he marked the canvas of your neck or the thirst in his voice as he found himself devoting his reverence not to God but to his wife. You could barely hear his desperate groans through the veil of your pleasure—as he, enamored by everything you so willfully encompassed, could no longer retain self-control.

After hundreds of years of searching for something, for someone to fulfill him, he had finally found you. It was in the afterglow of your union that you knew you had known better all along. Even though your mind was scattered into millions of pieces, you knew he would build you back to what you once were, as he would never destroy the one he claimed to be perfection reincarnate—forever his.

ты моя = you're mine.

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[pitchsidestories]

Darling, hold my hand II Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze

masterlist I word count: 1504

a/n: hi, we hope you enjoy this little oneshot, as always this is just fiction, have fun reading. <3

As soon as the final whistle blew and the game against Bilbao ended, the celebratory mood in the Estadi Johan Cruyff set in. FC Barcelona won their ninth league title before the season even ended.

While the fans applauded and chanted their names, the players on the pitch celebrated wildly, hugging each other and jumping around under the night sky. The commanding victory only added to the exuberant atmosphere.

It was chaos on the field when the injured players joined the celebrations. From somewhere a drum had appeared on the grass and Ona and Alexia took turns beating it.

Lucy stood a little farther away, watching them attentively with a smile on her lips.

“Lucia.“, Alexia said, rolling her eyes at her teammate after calling her a second time.

Only then the English defender tore her eyes away from Ona: “Uhm.. What?“

Keira elbowed her in the side and grimaced: “Embarrassing, Lucy.“

“Like a lovesick puppy.“, Alexia agreed before Lucy could protest.

Keiras eye widened, excited by the comparison: “Right?“

Lucy shook her head, unimpressed: “Shut it, both of you!“

Ona held out the drumstick towards her: “Want to try too?“

Instead of Lucy, Cata Coll answered: “Oh, look, Ale. Olga is over there.“ She pointed towards the stands. Alexias head immediately whipped around in the direction.

Cata winked at Ona: “See, Oni? Works every time.“

“She’s so in love.“, the Spanish defender smiled back.

Alexia turned towards Lucy, letting go of the drum: “Here, Lucy. I’m sure you’ll take good care of the drum with Ona.“

Lucys eyes narrowed in suspicion: “Thanks?“

“You’re welcome.“

“Ona, you were right. Ale is so in love.“, Lucy grinned as they watched their captain walk towards her girlfriend and embrace her.

“I told you she’s.“, the smaller defender laughed.

“How does it feel? To be back at Barcelona and winning the league in your first season?“, Lucy asked, subtly placing a hand on the Spanish players waist.

Onas eyes lit up as she looked at the English defender, trying to summarize her emotions with one word: “Amazing.“

“You played amazing. And your goal tonight…“

“Yes?“, you asked, prompting her to continue.

In her typical nonchalant way, she just shrugged: “It was pretty nice too.“

Ona laughed at the half-compliment: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome.“

For a second, the two football players were unusually silent, soaking in the lighthearted atmosphere.

Sandra Paños came over to take the drum from them.

Ona leaned over, whispering into Lucys ear: “When do you think we can go home?“

“This will take a while.”, the older woman replied truthfully, her voice filled with longing for the time when it only was the two of them.

“Ugh, I feared you’d say that.”, mirroring that want of being alone, the Spanish defender groaned.

Lucy gave her girlfriend an apologetic look: “Sorry. The ceremony hasn’t even started yet.”

“Do you think you can keep your hands to yourself during that?”, Ona teased the English player with an amused grin on her lips.

“You’re the one who came close for a hug.”, the older woman protested smirking.

“And you were coming closer when we had the team photos before the match started.”, the Spanish defender reminded her.

“Not true.”, Lucy countered laughing even though she knew fully well that the younger woman was right about her observation.

“Yes, you did.”, Keira said as she joined their conversation giggling.

“Lies.”, her England teammate responded.

Clearing her throat Jana tapped the older woman’s shoulder:” Excuse me, but I got to steal your girlfriend for now, Lucia.”

“Where are you going?”, Lucy asked curiously.

 “You’ll see.”, the younger defender promised wearing a secretive smile on her face.

“Rude.”, the English woman mumbled, shaking her head.

“Sorry.”, Ona mouthed into the direction of her girlfriend as Jana was pulling her away to some fellow Spanish players who wanted to take a group photo together which afforded her presence.

“Fine then.”, Lucy told her as she was making her way to the teammates who weren’t taking part in that specific photo shooting.

Meanwhile Ona realized what which task was laying ahead of her. “Another round of photos, Jana?”, she whined in front of her friend.

“Yes, come here.”, Jana nodded enthusiastically before they each took their positions to let the photographer do her work.

Afterwards it took Ona a bit of time to find her girlfriend in the crowd who kept celebrating, she let out a quiet gasp as a familiar voice came from behind her back. “Done with your little photo shooting, pretty girl?”

Hearing the English woman saying that gave her goosebumps, but the Spanish woman tried to play it down by saying:” Lucia, stop.”

“I'm doing nothing, no suspicious looks and no touching.”, Lucy objected, smiling innocently to underline her message.

“Just subtle flirting, huh?”, the younger defender raised an eyebrow at her. Her girlfriends face was an open book, not only to her, but for the public as well.

Lucy swiftly changed the topic of the conversation, motioning towards the rest of the team who slowly started to head towards the dressing room: “Uhm, seems like the party is heading elsewhere now. Let’s go.“

While she started walking, Ona followed a few steps behind. “Coming!“

She quickly caught up with Lucy and took a leap onto her back, her arms around Lucy shoulders and giggled.

“Oh, and jumping on my back is subtle, Ona?“, she commented while trying to steady herself to keep them from falling over.

Sandra passed them and remarked with a smirk: “You two are not very subtle, no matter what you do, Luce.“

Ona finally jumped off of Lucy and instead wrapped her arms around the older defenders waist while walking: “Doesn’t matter now anyway.“

“Wait until we’re home…“, Lucy grinned which caused Sandra to grimace in disgust.

She shot her teammate a reproachful look and nodded in the direction of Vicky Lopez and Salma Paralluelo: “Lucia, not in front of the children!“

Barcelonas young strikers both remained unimpressed.

“As if we didn’t know what they’re doing. They’ve been clingy all night.“, Salma said, lovingly poking fun at the older players.

Vicky agreed quickly: “Honestly, we might be young but not naive.“

Alexia appeared between the two of them, ruffling Vickys curls: “Stop sounding so grown up, that’s not okay.“

“We’re adults, get used to it.“, Salma replied, clearly amused by the situation.

Alexia shook her head: “Never.“

“Let’s go, Vicky.“, Salma rolled her eyes and turning away from their unusually sentimental captain.

The young striker followed her: “I’m coming.“

Relieved that the attention had shifted away from them, Ona started to impatiently tug on Lucys hand and quietly said: “Come on, Luce.“

Laughing, the English football player let Ona drag her along: “Alright.“

“Getting Paella on the way home?“, the younger woman asked, blinking innocently at her girlfriend.

Lucy raised an eyebrow: “Really? Food?“

Ona bit back a smile as she quickly admitted: “Actually, that can wait.“

“Good. Because I definitely can’t wait.“

“Me neither to be honest.“ Onas cheeks blushed bright pink.

The two defenders followed the other players into the dressing room and got changed. In a quiet moment, they left the continuing celebration as inconspicuously as possible.

The whole drive home, Ona could feel the impatience radiating off of Lucy. The Spanish defender smiled to herself. Teasingly, she put her hand on the inside of Lucys thigh while she drove, slightly faster than she should.

With a cheeky smile Ona loosened her braid, so her hair fell in long waves, knowing all too well how much the English player loved this look on her, who tried her hardest not to stare because she’s been the driver tonight.

The younger woman opened the window of the car on her passenger seat side, letting the still warm night in and enjoying the wind in her hair as she leaned outside to feel it.

The adrenaline of the win running through her veins, Ona let out a small victorious scream, only causing Lucy to drive faster as her patience has her limits.

When they stepped through the door of their shared appartement, the Spanish defender turned around to look at her girlfriend expectantly:” You can kiss me now?”

“Now.”, the English woman repeated, her voice leaving no doubt that she was done with waiting.

“Yes. No one is here watching even Narla and Coco are asleep.”, Ona replied, pointing to the little dogs who were each sleeping in their small beds.

“Come here.”, Lucy said, opening her arms before hugging the smaller defender.

“We’re campeonas.”, Ona mumbled against the English woman’s bare skin, making her shiver underneath her as she pressed a few kisses on it.

Clearing her throat Lucy lifted the younger player’s chin, so she could look into her green eyes darkened with desire:” We’re.”

With that said Ona gave her a passionate kiss before the English defender lifted her up to carry her into their bedroom to celebrate the league win the way they wanted to do for the whole evening.

#lucy bronze #ona batlle #lucy bronze imagine #ona batlle imagine #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso oneshot #woso #woso community #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #ona batlle x lucy bronze #woso couples #woso one shot #alexia putellas #sandra panos #keira walsh #salma paralluelo #lucy bronze x ona batlle #luna #woso x reader

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #11

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Drinks with Alastor turned the heat up! Warnings: Gore, blood, Smut.

Thank you so much to the amazing @hazelfoureyes she's the author of the smut here! She was an amazing help for this, so go to her profile and give her lots of love!! Her masterlist

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @shamblezzz @looking1016

“Alastor, it’s me” An Alastor with a seemingly white tie ensemble only with red and black colors, opened the door to his studio. Red evening tailcoat, It’s not closed entirely, double breasted black dress shirt, high pants held up by suspenders, winged collar and butterfly bow tie, he looked amazing. That was, at your time, the highest and most formal wear for men.

“Y/n dearest, I thought you had forgotten of me” he offered his hand to you, pretending to be hurt, “Never, sorry for the delay, the comedian that arrived a while ago was a blast, made me laugh to tears” as you walked up the stairs he eyed the dress you wore, feeling disgust as he knew who had tailored for you.

With a click of his fingers, his green magic made a flash on your body, flapper’s dress red and black materialized. It had tons of black beads and shiny flowers. Your hands were covered by laced long gloves. Golden medium high heels that matched the golden headband.

“Hey, this is lovely” he smiled proud of his work, “Figured it was better than the ensemble you were wearing” You didn't ignore his bitter tone, but you didn't want to rub it in, instead you rolled your eyes and smiled as he prompt you to sit on a chair near his radio panel.

“I have a surprise for you” he pulled up an album, in between the pages were pieces of newspapers all about the Axe-man of Louisiana, “How did you brought this down here?” he put in your hands, allowing you to pass on the pages. “I have my ways” he was proud, even more so when you started showing signs of homesickness.

“I don’t regret a single one of this encounters, except the crazy as fuck letter that I wrote” which was in one of the pages, a subtle 'oh' from you made Alastor laugh, "Do you know that I read that letter on the radio? I don't know how I didn't laugh while I was doing so, but as soon as it was off the air I couldn't stop” you hit him on the shoulder playfully.

“That was my last murder, I wasn’t in my right mind, the cut was sloppy and I didn’t even reached the brain, it was a mess” he was invested in the story, you could tell by the way his smile looked more relaxed.

“The wife saw me but didn’t said anything, instead she wanted me to confirm that he was dead, as soon as I did she thanked me” part of you was pissed she didn’t felt fear, the other was at peace with that, “It made me sick to see her wounds, but I guess it didn't make sense to think that a bad man could be a good husband” your eye roll and sarcasm put an amused grin on his face.

“I’m not a good man, but I know I can be a good husband” he took your hand, knowing your point but still making his own on top, “Because you don’t abuse little girls Alastor, that’s the line between a bad man and a monster” and he was proud his mom taught him better, “You eliminated all those vermin, how you’re not in heaven?” in his mind no one so well thought as yourself should be in hell just for taking out a contaminator, “Because a life is a life I guess, not matter how worthless” not enough, he needed to make the puzzle you were less of a mystery.

“How did you died?” to him it didn’t made sense, your appearance, “The Axe-man did it” but he wasn’t satisfied, he needed to take the bodies from the closet, “Is this your real face?” taking a better posture on the chair you sternly made him explain, “What do you mean?”.

“You used a mask when you got here, even in life you were famous because you were never identified” he was truly informed, a fan of your ways , “What was my modus operandi?” you asked, eyeing a photograph of the bayou in between the pages, “Axe through the head” he answered,  “Face” you corrected him.

“I did the same with me, what I came to know later was that there was a fire caused by a misplaced candle, took years of deep care to my body to be this soft, but I had no face” that information was new, “I don’t care how much I like you Alastor, but if you try to say this to anyone else my coming back victim will be the radio demon” to be fair, that thought turned him on, just the feeling of your fangs on him again was enough to rile him up.

“Charlie gave me a face, this one-” he placed his hand on your cheek, appreciating the feeling, “For your information, dying by your hand, would be my upmost pleasure” a crack of his chair was heard before he placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“What made you do a contract with her?” he had thought that question for a while, Charlie didn’t exactly gave him an answer when he approached her, “What will you give me in exchange?” he swayed his hand in the air, the wall turning onto itself.

“The pleasure of seeing me kill him” sat in a chair was your ex-husband, almost unrecognizable in all the bruises and cuts everywhere.

You were speechless, he did that for you? Alastor turned the man that hurt you in his own punching bag, just for you. “I was angry, she wanted to help, I wanted her to die” you admitted, watching closely all the wounds on his body, “The princess will die at the end of this?!” he rose from his chair, green hue surrounding him.

With a smirk you out yourself at his level, “You sound a tad too preoccupied for someone that made her sign a blank contract” his ears pinned down his head, “I have my reasons” he added, bitterly so,  “Too bad she can’t help you with that leash” your fingers grabbed the invisible pull around his neck making him growl, “You’re despicable” he spit, his eyes turning colors, black and red dials, “And you a manipulative narcissist, hungry for power, cannibalistic fool” a growl of your own made him shiver in place instinctively.

Pulling on your hair he took your lips on a kiss, your hands flying to his neck, hugging his shoulders yearning for his touch. His tongue pushed his way into your mouth, an audible yelp got swallowed from your mouth my his.

“You two are crazy” your ex cried from his seat, calling yours and his attention. “My darling, this is one of your birthday gifts” he pointed to all the black ties around his body and the chair, “Car cables, how many watts?” his hands circled your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, wickedly smiling when he uttered “39.9” with a purr, “That’s twice the electric chair, your idea of foreplay is splendid” you kissed his cheek earning a sigh from him.

Your eyes darted towards your ex, “The mobster’s wife drowned our daughter in the river, just so you know” while he started crying his guilt out you walked up to the switch, “Start recording, I want all of hell to hear him later” he pushed a button on his panel “Of course mon cœur”.

As soon as you flipped the switch, the radio electricity that Alastor provided overloaded your ex-husband's body and made it blow into a thousand pieces, staining your dress and some of the walls. “The dress is ruined” you shook some of the blood off, before you were pulled to Alastor’s lap, “You’re a tease” you smiled, “And a manipulative narcissist” he used your own words against you, but with a laugh.

“She can’t help?” he referred to Charlie and his deal with her, “The only one that can has a short sense of humor towards you” you booped his nose, “You’re hilarious” his eye roll made you laugh, “And you…prideful-ah!” he bit you on the neck, “But you like me either way” he knew you liked him at least a little bit, “Guilty as charged” however, he knew he wasn’t the only one.

“But you like him as well” he made your heart beat painfully in your chest, “I went from nothing to have two sources of affection, I became an addict” he pressed his cheek to yours, “I…mmh” he bit his tongue, “I don’t know what I can do, whatever I choose will hurt me, and one of you” he pulled you closer while you spoke, your knees straddling his hips.

“How about both?” he thought out loud, “I didn’t take you for a sharer” ‘If that can overrule the deal, make you stay and arrange it so we won’t lose you, then’ he thought, “I can swallow my pride that far” then his confession seemed so surreal, “Is that my second gift?” he smiled trying to mask his embarrassment.

“I hope it can suffice” he whispered, his hand petting your hair, “I don’t want to seem greedy” could you really date both? “Oh you are, darling, but I bet the king and I adore you either way” head pressed against his chest, felt right, just as much as having Lucifer curl up with you at night.

“Thank you” he hummed in response, “That won’t do” you thought it for a second, “Want me to take the lead?” maybe he wanted a reward for being so good to you, “I already gave you my answer a while ago” ‘Devour me’ you remembered his words, while adjusting yourself on his lap, you could feel his erection, “All this for little old me? How flattering” the clothed friction electrified his senses.

“You know what I found out?” Your breath ghosted along his neck, little bite marks already reddening as your hands found their way to his pants. “You love being in control, but even more so…” you bit gently on his neck, “When I control you” he let a shaky breath escape his throat, making it looked like he had been holding it for a minute now.

“Hands behind your back” you took off his belt, twisting it around his wrists, tightly but not so much, “I want to thank you for the amount of trust you give me” Zipper down, you grabbed either side with your hands and pulled them down with a swift yank.  

“I’ll tear you apart if you…-” tell anyone? No, you were going to have him all to yourself, “Tempting, but I would never” you stopped your movements when you caught a magnetic scent, “Is this a new cologne?” he hummed a yes, “You like it?” you nodded excitedly, “Yes, and though the white tie dressing is sexy, is horribly tedious to undo” the red and black suit was too gorgeous to ruin, but he had that in mind.

“Claw your way through it” he furrowed his brow, “I don’t want to ruin it” the fabric was far too exquisite, “You’ll make me beg for it?” his words made your tail slightly wag, “How far can you swallow your pride?” he laughed in response, “Chérie, please claw your way through it” It was the show of strength that took him by surprise, not that it wasn’t adding to the strain of his cock against his underwear. You ripped the pant legs off in tandem, slowing down as you brought your hand to the curved bulge now open for you to enjoy. Finally, a moment to pause.

His hands wouldn’t be stopping you now, but the way his was cutting into his lip as he bit down in anticipation made it clear you were not unwanted.

A slow drag down his clothed erection, small wet spot forming at the head. “Now this, this is all for me. No denying that, no questioning.” His hips bucked up instinctively, chasing your finger for more friction. A little giggle from you, realizing how much fun you were about to have. 

Leaning down between his legs, you let your nose slid up his length. Hot breath ghosting over his head, that wet spot growing as he twitched.

“Y/N…,” he growled, “Enough.” 

You shook your head and hooked your fingers under his waistband and peeling them off. A hiss as the air hit his precum slicked cockhead. Heavy and hot, you took him in your hands. No stroking, no squeezing. Your eyes looked into his, attempting to look as innocent and confused as you could to counter the small rage overwhelmed by arousal.

“Should I stop then?” A squeeze at his base. Another raise of his hips. 

His head drooped down, a nearly imperceivable shake of his head. “Good boy” Your hand rose up slowly, then back down. Each stroke you rose further and further until your hand was rolling over his head with every pass. Clear and sticky, his precum slowly made a lovely wet sound fill the space between you two. As his breath began to hitch, shoulders tightening and drawing in you, you stilled your hand. A whimper was your reward.

Letting a beat come, feeling that pulse slowdown in the heat in your hands, you only then began again. Taking pleasure in biting at his inner thighs when you noticed his body tensing up with the next attempt to cum, the pain breaking him just enough to let you regain the control. 

You brought him closer and closer each time, managing a third before you finally gave in and let him meet his climax and paint your knuckles and his station floor. “Sloppy” you mocked, letting your finger rub at his slit. Alastor’s knees drew up, hands tugging at his restraints. 

“It’s too sensitive. Up”

“Why are you still so hard then?” Your hand twisted over his head and shaft. His legs were hitting at your ribs, body trying to escape your hand but with nowhere to go.

“You’re pushing your luck, chérie” 

You liked pushing your luck. Watching him hiss and convulse was bringing out the sadist in you. With a second to consider it, you nodded to yourself and swiped your tongue up the bottom of his cock. Salty, bitter, hot. Focused, your tongue edged along the neck of his glans. 

As he squirmed, he realized you hadn’t been made to squirm yet… nor last time. Motivation found; his smirk finally returned in full.

The sound of the leather ripping as his arms pulled them apart reached your ears too late. You knew he could have gotten free at any time but you hadn’t expected him to actually do it. You knew despite his act; he enjoyed letting you be the one pulling his reins.

A hand in your hair pulled you off his lap, another took hold of your waist. The wind was knocked out of you as he tossed you to the floor between the chair and his table. 

Alastor had had enough. You had your fun, you teased, you took control of the dynamic. He warned you, and now he would reclaim the power. 

“Allow me to return the favor. I have a debt to you, after all.”

You hissed a warning that he ignored, ripping through your dress with ease. Unfair, you thought. You hadn’t been quite as quick when you undressed him. Had you known it was a competition you’d have made a quicker order of his pants earlier.

A clawed hand slid down your pelvic mound, two fingers spreading open your lips on the way down to your entrance. “You’re already dripping. You acted so tough earlier, but you were melting.”

“Can it.”

He hummed, both fingers bending and slipping into you with a slight resistance. Though you both enjoyed a little sadomasochism, he wasn’t trying to hurt you. So preparation was a necessity. Not that you minded, hips rutting into his palm to bring his digits deeper. Your hands came to your chest, feeling yourself while his own hands were occupied. 

You hadn’t minded not finding your own release last time, but the promise of Alastor drawing an orgasm out of you made your pussy clench around his fingers.

“Not enough?” The radio static of his normal voice grew as a direct reflections of his faltering control.

 Your hands came between your leg and pull his hand away, “I want you.” Hooking your legs around his waist you dragged his lap to your core and rubbed your slick smeared folds up and down his growing length. “Enough foreplay” you growled, wild and feral expression darkening your eyes.

Happy to oblige though not eager to show it, he took his time drawing back his hips. Already so hard he didn’t need his hands to enter you, Alastor let his claws grip the flesh of your thighs as he pressed into your heat, moving your tail to the side, tempted to grab hold of it, but he ignored it. 

A brief moment passed over his face when his smile faltered, the pleasure of getting back into you breaking his focused facade. He took a breath and that smile widened again, eyes opening to lock on your face as he started immediately into a steady rhythm. He knew what you needed to cum, something from within told him exactly how to work your body on his cock to make your vision white out. A consistent and determined thrusting, the sounds of his hips and balls smacking into your body getting louder as the sweat and arousal was shared skin to skin.

The noises of your bodies hitting together punctuating the restrained moans you were biting back made his ears twitch. Debauched, a moment you let yourself be bested. Rarely did you surrender but for his dick you lied on back for him. Or on all fours. Or… his head fell forward. Hanging there he could hide his uneven smile behind his curtain of hair. He could see himself disappearing into your body. Effortlessly you were sucking him in and gripping with every withdrawal.

The buildup of your orgasm was stalled, your hand coming to your clit to push yourself over the climax. As soon as your handed started strumming at your little bud, your walls spasmed and squeezed Alastor. 

“Y/N, Are you close?”.

You nodded, eyes clenched shut. Your stomach muscles tightened and threatened to cramp your arching back. 

When was the last time you felt good about this? Wanted? Loved even? Was this it, at last you found someone that could match your unique self?

“Me too.” Alastor groaned it out, body straightening. Onto your shoulders were touching the floor of his station now, back bent with the chase of your orgasm and Alastor lifting your ass so he could fuck up into you. 

It was a fact your knees would bruise his sides as you finally came, legs wrapping around him and pulling him as deep as you could get him. It wasn’t enough, you whined with the rare display of desperation to have more of him. 

As if he felt that draw as well, he let your body back down. His body rested on top of yours, the air slightly pushed out of your lungs. With a weak and broken moan into the side of your head, he pressed your body into the floor as he came buried as deeply as he could physically manage.

“I’ll talk to Mr. vertically challenged” he breathed out, “Are you sure?” you saw spots of colors, regaining as little strength as you could, feeling your body being pulled backwards. Soon enough you were in his lap again, curled up against his chest, “You go out tomorrow, I think I can convince him” he looked down to you, with the softest look he could provide.

“Deal” you kissed his chin, he felt how your tail tangled around his waist, it was soft and warm, “Just don’t get killed” he took your lips in a kiss, “I won’t” you gave him an unamused stare, “I’m serious” he kissed you again, as if he could erase your worries like that.

“Now, let’s get cleaned up, cuddle the king so he doesn’t suspect anything” you made a pout which he found adorable, “I thought we could sleep together” he made you and him appear in his bathroom, where his shadow already made a warm bath for you two.

“I’m going to compensate for the other day, but I feel…weird” he was overstimulated, so you understood and rather enjoyed the bath and his delicate way to spread the soap across your skin, rather than object him.

After a good night kiss, you went back to Lucifer’s room, finding him in the same position you left him in. “Luce, Luci” you slid in between the covers, calling him softly to get him to cuddle, in which as soon as he heard you, regained a bit of senses, enough to fit his head in your chest and his arms around your waist.  

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Stay tuned ;3

#alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #cursed cat alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanart #alastor x lucifer #alastor fanart #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #radioapple #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor fluff

[panda-writes-kpop]

hiii i love ur works!! may i request Dreamcatcher and Lesserafim reaction to reader coming down with a cold or sinus infection? like, the reader is sneezing a lot and just needs lots of tlc :3

Le Sserafim - Reaction to Reader Having a Sinus Infection/Cold

a/n: the college mentality of "due tomorrow 》》》 do tomorrow" still plagues my brain as I didn't have the motivation to finish this fic until today 🥲 but I'm going to try to have the other dreamcatcher reaction out later this week! I'm glad you enjoy my works, dear anon! ❤️ as someone who gets sinus infections regularly, I felt this request in my soul and had to do it. hopefully this brings you all comfort in your time of sickness 🫶

tw: sick! reader, mentions of vomit, vivid description of a cold at the beginning, eunchae's part is written as platonic :)

♡ Masterlist ♡

Prompt: You swear you didn’t feel this terrible yesterday. All you had was a bit of congestion and a scratch in your throat. Today, when you woke up, you could barely lift your head off of the pillow due to the congestion in your head. You were sure that you had enough snot to fill a trash can within your two nostrils. All you wanted to do was lay down and rest, but the ding of your phone causes you to lift your head again.

My Love: Do you mind if I come over? I miss you :(

You text her back with what you think is a comprehensible answer, and you rest your head against the pillow.

The next moment you’re awake, your girlfriend is sitting right next to you. So much for self-isolation.

You're awoken by the soft clink of two needles brushing past each other, and oddly enough, you find serenity in the sound. You've learned to associate the sound with Sakura's presence, and she smiles softly at you as she continues to knit.

“Are you feeling better?”

“A little.” You croak out before trying to sit up.

She stops knitting and places a hand on your chest.

“You need your rest, babe. I'll order takeout or see what I can make in your kitchen.”

You offer a quick smile back to her before she tucks you back into bed.

“A goodnight kiss?” You stick out your bottom lip as Sakura chuckles to herself.

“It's not nighttime, and I'm not kissing you until you feel better. I put one of my homemade blankets on you - it should feel like a warm hug. Hopefully, you can deal with it until you get better.”

You grab the blanket and tug it over you.

“Thanks, Kkura. See you when I wake up.”

“I'll be here when you do.”

She continues her knitting, and you fall asleep to the sound of clinking that you had awoken to.

A light hand on your shoulder stirs you from your slumber as your eyes snap open.

You cough as you try to take a breath and gather your surroundings.

“Baby, are you okay?” Chaewon hovers over you before grabbing a chair from nearby. “You didn't answer my text, and I got worried.”

“I-” You pause to sneeze. “I'm okay, I promise.”

Her burrows furrow - you were very unsuccessful in hiding your sickness.

“You're not feeling well. Let me run you a bath, and then I can make you some soup. Then we can have some tea, if you're up for it, and then a walk outdoors can help you clear your nose-”

“Chaewon, love, we don't have to do that all right now.” You grab her arm to stop her ranting. “The soup and tea are fine since I don't feel like getting out of bed.”

“Okay, I can do that.” She presses a small kiss to your face before getting up. “I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything, don't be afraid to say something!”

“I won't.” You find yourself smiling after Chaewon leaves the room, and with your spirits lifted, you're sure that you'll feel better in no time.

“How are you feeling?”

You manage to pull your eyes open as you shake off the sleepiness. When you're conscious enough to face the day (nevermind the cold), your head turns toward Yunjin.

“You didn't have to come, I know you were busy-”

“You send a text that said ‘help me’ with a bunch of random symbols and emojis after it. I was worried that someone had broken into the apartment or that you were in the hospital.”

Her arm grabs yours as you pull yourself out of bed. You gently rub your head as her hand travels to rub your back. In her other hand, she holds a take-out bag with your favorite foods inside of it.

“You were going to fight off my attacker with fast food?” You joke, and she softly laughs.

“I remembered that you were pretty out of it the last time you were sick, so I was hoping that your message wasn't an SOS for emergency services.”

“Good call.” Your stomach rumbles as you stare at the food. “I hope you brought enough for the both of us, I'd feel bad if you were going to just watch me eat.”

“I know that you would want me here with you, plus, it gives me an excuse to see you more.” She winks before handing you the food and grabbing the TV remote. “I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Me too, dear,” You sigh before opening the food, “me too.”

You're awoken by the sound of silence - well, nothing besides the numbing headache in your skull.

As you sit up in bed, a gentle knock beats against your door.

“Come in.” You hoarsely call out before grabbing the water from your night stand.

“Hey, honey, are you ready for company? I can leave if you want, but I wanted to let you know what I brought.” Kazuha peeks her head in after opening the door.

“No, it's alright, you can come in. You didn't have to bring anything, I could've ordered something in.” You try to reassure her as she closes the door behind her.

“I wasn't able to come to see you until later, but I saw your text before dance rehearsal. I called one of your friends to come check on you, and you were fast asleep so they didn't want to bug you. They made you a big pot of soup that I divided up and put into the fridge. They also left some tea bags and a few honey sticks, if you want any of that.” Kazuha explains. “I brought over some of your clothes from my place because I wasn't sure what kind of sickness you were dealing with, but I'm glad it's not vomit.”

You both grimace at the thought as you smile to yourself.

“Do I get a kiss for not puking?”

“No way! I don't want your germs.” She jokes as you sulk.

“Damn, it was worth a try. I'll take the soup, though, if you don't mind getting it for me?” You tilt your head as she sighs and nods.

As Kazuha leaves the room, you wonder how you got so lucky with such a kind, funny, and sweet girlfriend.

Unfortunately, for you, your girlfriend didn't answer or show up at your door. So, you text the next person who will come to see you because the fridge is soo far away and you don't feel like getting up and getting a water.

You're sure that Eunchae breaks a world record as she knocks at your door minutes after you text her.

After letting herself in, she rushes to your side and gives you a big hug.

“Aren't you worried about getting sick?” You ask as she nervously laughs.

“Not really, since I think I had your sickness a bit ago? I hope not, because I felt a lot worse than you sound.” Eunchae gives you a gummy smile before letting you go. “Do you want me to order something? I don't want to dig through your kitchen without your permission.”

“Of course, go ahead. My card's over-”

“I got it!” She cheerily says before digging out your phone. “Don't worry, I'll take care of you.”

You have doubts that everything she will do with you will be helpful to your recovery, but at least you'll feel better. That counts for something, right?

#kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group x reader #girl group #girl group fanfic #le sserafim fanfic #le sserafim scenarios #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim #sakura x you #sakura x reader #sakura #chaewon #chaewon x reader #yunjin x reader #kazuha x reader #eunchae x reader #chaewon x you #yunjin x you #yunjin #kazuha x you #kazuha #eunchae x you

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let Me Love You - 6

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

Leaving Lloyd stunned by the reveal that Bucky turned out to be one of the wealthiest persons in the country, Bucky led you over to his table.

You were half-stunned too, your mind reeling with the sudden revelation. "Wait… you—" you began, struggling to find the right words.

Bucky, appearing somewhat awkward under the unexpected attention, interjected, "Are you surprised?"

You nodded slowly, still trying to process the information. "Mmh," you murmured, a mix of awe and disbelief evident in your voice.

Bucky chuckled nervously, attempting to downplay the situation. "It's my father's business, haha. Not mine. But I want you to meet him."

The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning. Does this mean you're going to meet the CEO?

Quickly, you smoothed down your hair and straightened your clothes, trying to compose yourself for the encounter.

Meanwhile, Michael returned from speaking with Lloyd, though you hardly noticed, your attention completely consumed by the impending introduction to the CEO. Unbeknownst to you, Lloyd's gaze lingered on you from afar, his expression unreadable.

As Michael approached, he extended his hand toward you, a warm smile gracing his features. "Hello, Y/N. Nice to meet you," he greeted, his tone friendly and inviting.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you replied, your voice tinged with nervousness as you addressed the boss of your boss. Despite your apprehension, Michael's friendly and humble demeanor put you at ease, much like Bucky's.

Meanwhile, Nicky bit her nail nervously, her thoughts racing as she grappled with the sudden realization that being with Lloyd, the popular guy on campus, paled in comparison to Bucky's family wealth and influence.

Once accustomed to being the center of attention due to her father's status, Nicky now was overshadowed by the prestige associated with Bucky's family.

No longer the belle of the night, she received no compliments or attempts to impress her, a stark contrast to her previous experiences.

Frustrated and perhaps resentful, Nicky grabbed her phone and began typing furiously, reflecting on her inner turmoil and uncertainty about her place in this new dynamic. Only time would reveal the true extent of her intentions.

*****

After the party, Bucky dropped you off at your apartment building. As you exited the car, a sense of unexpected gratitude washed over you. You had anticipated hating tonight, yet you found yourself enjoying it instead.

Typically overshadowed by Lloyd's presence, you often found yourself relegated to small talk, only engaging when prompted. However, tonight was different. Bucky and his father had actively included you in their conversations, making you feel valued and appreciated.

"Thank you so much," you expressed sincerely, looking at Bucky as if he were an angel sent to rescue you from the otherwise dreadful night.

"Good night," Bucky nodded in response, his gaze lingering on you as you closed the door and made your way inside.

Once alone in his car, Bucky drove back to his apartment, his thoughts lingering on the evening's events. Upon parking, he noticed a familiar car nearby.

Curiosity piqued, he approached the vehicle and knocked on the back seat window. To his surprise, the window rolled down, revealing his father inside.

"That's her, right?" Michael's voice cut through the night air, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

Bucky glanced at his father, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?" he replied, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Don't lie to me, boy. I was once young too, you know," Michael retorted, his gaze penetrating.

Bucky chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Hehe," he muttered, unable to suppress a sheepish grin.

His father's next question caught him off guard. "Are you mad? I suddenly call you to come here and make an appearance," Bucky asked, concern evident in his voice.

"It's my son's request. How could I ignore it?" Michael responded, his tone softening with paternal affection. "Besides, you rarely ask for anything."

"Thanks, Dad," Bucky replied, gratitude shining in his eyes as he exchanged a meaningful glance with his father.

Then, Michael's gaze turned probing. "You like her?" he inquired, his voice gentle yet probing.

Bucky nodded without hesitation, his heart suddenly feeling lighter with the admission. "I do," he confessed, his voice earnest and sincere.

A proud smile spread across Michael's face. "A quick, honest answer. That's a real man," he remarked approvingly before rolling up the window and leaving Bucky to his thoughts.

🎓

As you walked into the university like usual, you couldn't shake the feeling that all eyes were on you, whispers following your every step. Dismissing it as mere paranoia, you made your way to your seat and sat down, hoping to ignore the incessant murmurs.

But the whispers persisted, growing louder until one of your classmates nervously approached you.

"Y/N?" she called out, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

You turned to her, a questioning expression on your face. "Hmm?" you responded, curious as to what she had to say.

"Is this true?" she asked, holding out her phone for you to see. The screen displayed a news headline in bold red font, the words striking a nerve you had hoped to forget after leaving your hometown.

"Hysterical local woman screams in the middle of the road because of her cheating husband."

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, dredging up painful memories you had buried deep within your psyche.

The article depicted the turmoil of your family's unraveling, captured in a moment of anguish as your mother's cries echoed in the street, desperately trying to stop your father from leaving town after his infidelity was exposed.

You remembered the photo accompanying the article, the image of your mother's despair etched into your memory, and your own face blurred out because of privacy.

The silent solidarity of your hometown community proved to be a saving grace amid the turmoil caused by the resurfacing of painful memories.

Recognizing the deep-seated pain your mother had endured, those who knew each other decided unanimously to keep the news from spreading further.

It was a testament to the empathy and compassion that bound the community together, a shared understanding of the need to protect and respect your family's privacy.

In a gesture of collective empathy, the articles were swiftly taken down, erasing the painful reminders of past traumas. It was a small yet significant act of kindness, shielding you from further anguish and allowing you the space to heal in peace.

As you processed the weight of the revelation, a shiver ran down your spine. The realization that only you and Lloyd knew about your family's painful past cast a shadow of dread over you.

Closing your eyes, you couldn't suppress the tremble coursing through your body.

This was what Lloyd meant by a "crazy mother-in-law," the hidden reason behind his parents' apparent disapproval of you.

Was this his way of expressing his anger?

Was he holding a grudge against you for something beyond your control?

The weight settled heavily on your shoulders, the implications sinking in with each passing moment. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the person you used to love and grew up with harbored such resentment towards you, all because of a past you couldn't change.

Feeling a mixture of betrayal and hurt, you couldn't help but wonder how long this revelation had been festering beneath the surface, poisoning your relationship with Lloyd from within.

As you stormed out of the classroom, consumed by anger, you barely registered Bucky's greeting as you passed by him. "Good morning..." he called out, his voice trailing off as he watched you go.

Bucky wonders what's wrong with you. This could be the first time he saw you look this angry.

Their fellow classmates exchanged worried glances, sensing the tension in the air. Steve sighed heavily, explaining the situation to Bucky. "This article is on the college homepage," he informed him.

Bucky's eyes narrowed with fury as he read the article, his anger evident in his expression. "Someone tried to embarrass her. Using her family issues? It's a privacy violation. She could sue that person," he muttered, his voice laced with indignation.

Though his words were spoken softly, the intensity of his anger was palpable. Those nearby paused in their gossip, their attention drawn to Bucky's righteous indignation.

The realization that Bucky, with his influential family background, was taking a stand in defense of your privacy silenced them immediately.

Recognizing the potential repercussions of their actions, they hastily deleted their comments on the article, understanding that stirring up controversy with someone connected to such power was unwise.

🏈

Lloyd's grip tightened around the weights as he tried to channel his mounting frustration into his workout. The rhythmic clank of metal against metal provided a brief respite from the storm raging inside him.

His solitude was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of his fellow teammates, their voices pulling him back to the present moment.

"Have you seen the university news bulletin?" they asked, their expressions tense with anticipation.

Lloyd shook his head dismissively. "Nobody reads any news from that," he replied, his voice laced with disdain.

But as they showed him the article, his heart sank. With growing disbelief, he read the words printed before him, his mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of what he was seeing.

"What?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his brows furrowing in confusion.

And then, amidst the clangor of the gym, a voice cut through the noise like a knife. "Lloyd!"

Turning abruptly, Lloyd's gaze met yours, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of your furious expression. As you stormed towards him, your eyes ablaze with anger, he felt a pang of guilt wash over him, realizing the extent of the pain he had caused you.

Meeting your gaze, he could see the raw hurt reflected in your eyes, and the weight of his actions settled heavily on his shoulders. "How dare you!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I thought you understood how painful this was for me. You were there the whole time. How could you do this to me?"

As your words hung heavy in the air, Lloyd felt the crushing weight of his betrayal, knowing that he had caused you more pain than he ever intended.

With a heavy heart, he searched for the right words to express his remorse, but the damage had already been done, and he could only watch helplessly as you stood before him, your trust in him shattered.

As Lloyd reached out to touch your shoulder, seeking to offer some semblance of comfort, you recoiled from his touch, the pain of betrayal still fresh in your mind.

His expression softened as he realized the depth of your mistrust. "It wasn't me," he began, his voice tinged with remorse. "I'm a jerk. I know that. But this is not me."

You wiped away your tears, your gaze piercing as you challenged him. "Then who? Only you and me know about this."

Lloyd opened his mouth to respond, but his words caught in his throat as a sudden realization washed over him. His heart sank as he remembered the one person he had confided in about your family's struggles: Nicky.

"Nicky," he muttered, his voice filled with dread as he pieced together the puzzle. Without another word, he hurriedly left the gym, his eyes scanning the surroundings in search of her.

But she was nowhere to be found, leaving him to grapple with the consequences of his mistake and the damage it had caused to your fragile trust.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Lloyd cursed under his breath. The realization that Nicky's loose lips had cost him any hope of reconciliation with you gnawed at him like a festering wound.

Anger boiled within him as he realized this spoiled princess had ruined his chances of earning your trust back.

As he glanced back at you, the look of pure hatred in your eyes cut him to the core. It was a stark reminder of the depth of the betrayal you felt and the certainty that you would never forgive him this time.

At that moment, Lloyd knew that he had lost you. The love and affection you once held for him had been replaced by an unbridled hatred, leaving him to grapple with the consequences of his actions and the bitter taste of regret.

You hate him.

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Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #college!reader #college!bucky #college steve rogers #college au #bucky fanfic #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x you #marvel au #the grey man au #college!lloyd hansen #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #chris evans characters #steve rogers #bucky fanfiction #bucky fandom

[writinginthetwilight]

Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Loneliness. Anxiety. Dubious Dnd lore. Horror-esk/creepy vibes. See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note: Thank you for all the love on the last part of this fic you're a lovely bunch. This all Eddie's POV, slowing down to show a little glimpse of life on the other side of the wall and in his noggin. As always, all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird little world and being so supportive.

Special thanks to Somna for beta reading this chapter and soothing the brain goblins 💙

Wc: 4.4k

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. I hope you're all being kind to yourselves. Bye.

Part 6 - Rapid eye movement.

Starbursts roll over his vision, the edges are fading into burning static, there's a darkness rapidly approaching. He's falling.

Then he's awake.

Sitting bolt upright, his fingers catch the knots in his curls as he runs his hands over his head, panting breaths leaving him in time with the way his eyes dart around the room.

The world's a gentle sombre blue, shadows still overbearing as the sun starts its crawl out from beyond the horizon.

The knock that comes from behind him forces out the last of the breath he's been holding, reality slowly sinking in as he falls backwards.

He knocks back on the wall behind his head.

A returned acknowledgement of the shared time, somewhere.

The walls are too thick to pick up any small movements, but he waits and listens anyway.

He hopes you get back to sleep.

Dashed red numbers are a blur from his nightstand, too bright for tired eyes, they edge into focus slowly as he blinks away the sleep, he wishes he hadn't.

He needs to get up soon.

His first appointment’s in a couple of hours, a new one on the outskirts of the city and he needs to stop by the store first, see if he's picked up anymore for the week ahead.

A car revs its engine outside, his heart stutters, eyes clench closed.

It was just a dream.

Kind of.

Whatever it was, he's back now.

You're back now.

He scrubs at his face, pulling off his sweat stricken shirt, material damp against his skin and rapidly turning cold, before reaching out blindly for his cigarettes and balancing his ashtray precariously on his stomach.

Smoke curls up as he lets out his first exhale and he tries to calm his racing mind as he watches the shapes they coil into, serpents consuming themselves, tendrils that dissipate into nothing.

It had been what felt like a lifetime that you'd both nervously waited to wake, for something to appear from the darkness, but nothing came.

You were stuck, stock still as he'd tried to get you through the light, everything in his body telling him to go.

Your lack of self preservation would be impressive, if it didn't make him feel like such a fucking coward.

He can still see your face, eyes trained on the wall, mouth working like you were trying to get words out as you finally moved with him away.

The relief on your face as the rushing in your ears began.

The small wave you'd given him before being ripped away.

Fuck.

His letter from you sits on his nightstand amongst the clutter he needs to clear. He reaches over, turning on the small lamp which does very little, barely illuminates the area around him in muted peach hues.

It's enough.

I'm going to plan an exorcism, so if you could let me know which weekday evening would be good for you, that would be great.

In the meantime if you could find some sort of bell to wear so I don't almost die of a heart attack each time I come home that would be great.

His cigarette smoulders at the edge of the page smoke drifting over the words like fog.

He scratches at the stubble that's starting to come through on his jaw, trying to hide the smile that comes to his face at your words.

He's not sure who from.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, letter still in hand he pads his way through to the kitchen.

Bare feet hit the smooth cold tile, stray crumbs sticking to the bottom of them that he wipes off absentmindedly against his leg as he leans against the counter.

The coffee machine clicks and gurgles as he looks up from your words to stare out over the street, golden light now edging in making the opposing windows reflect back like a hall of mirrors, light dancing over his hands in waves.

He frowns, moving before the idea can fade with distractions, into the living room.

Peanuts and popcorn lie strewn over the floor as he rounds the corner and he curses lightly under his breath.

He'll deal with it later.

He pulls a stack of books off the bookshelf rifling through until he finds it.

‘Manual of the Planes’.

He discards the rest, sitting down criss-cross, stray kernels sticking into his calves where his sweatpants have rolled up.

He shifts them away and glances up to the space in front of him, the memory of you laughing fleeting through his mind.

The coffee pot fills and clicks off in the kitchen, light reflecting off the glass that shrouds the dark liquid.

It goes lukewarm, forgotten.

It's odd that the intentional quiet of his mornings seems to make the apartment less empty.

He'd stopped turning on the TV or playing music in the mornings a few weeks ago, afraid he might wake you.

The fact that there's someone there to hear him seems to make the silence less overwhelming.

He has to pull himself away from the book, pushing it into his bag to resume later, the responsibility of the day taking priority if he wants to make rent this month.

He's crouched at the foot of your doorway down the hall slipping a note under when he hears footsteps.

There's a woman coming down the stairs that curls off at the end of the hall heading towards him with a wary look.

He tries to look as casual as he can.

“Morning.”

He flashes her a grin still down on one knee and she quickly rushes past without a response.

Shit.

He hangs his head, standing slowly as his knees crack and back protests.

Mumbling, he curses tense muscles and aching bones as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, pulling up his soft black hood he adjusts the hair out of his eyes before long limbs carry him down and out onto the street below.

Dewy spring air still holds its chill, the sun still low in the sky and his breath mists in the air around him. He pulls up the collar on his leather jacket, shoulders hunching up around his ears.

The morning rush hasn't started, but there's still bodies on the street, heads down, paper coffee cups steaming in the air.

The constant low murmur of cars and people's existence buzzes around him, and accompanies him all the way until he finally boards his first bus, steel doors closing and muting the world.

The record shop isn't too far, a twenty minute walk at best, but if he's going to make it out to his first lesson he's not got the time to spare.

Early morning sun warms the side of his face as he pulls out the extra book in his rucksack, eyes resuming where they left off, as the bus takes off.

Transitive planes, demi planes, gods, demons and elemental struggles.

It's lighting up his brain.

The places which sit dormant, unentertained in the daily grind to exist, he greedily takes it in, lets it wash over his mind.

His notebook balances awkwardly on his thigh while he takes notes of anything that fits.

Lights, sleep, entry ways, reflections.

Voids and disembodied voices that will suck out his soul.

Shadows crawl over the pages as strangled light gasps between buildings and as the towering skyline clears daylight catches the white of the pages, making his intense gaze falter and look away.

Just in time to see the record store pass.

Shit

He rams everything into his bag, book pages crease and his guitar case rings out muffled pained notes as he clumsily stands and rushes to pull the cord.

The visit’s short and sweet, the owner Buck doesn't bat an eye as Eddie shouts out a slightly breathless hello as he barges past the closed sign.

Raising a hand in response, his gaze still stays firmly set on his newspaper even as Eddie reaches blindly behind the desk and pulls out a green book.

There's no new students.

But there are a couple of kids he hasn't seen in a while, names penned in next to their parents phone numbers.

A little tension leaves him at the sight, lessons are an extra expense, easily cut around the holidays and as spring crawled in, he was sure he wouldn't see them again.

His flyer in the window needs replacing, the words starting to fade from sun exposure. He should probably check the others around the city too.

He'll do it tomorrow.

He daren't risk too much distraction as the next bus carries him out of the city, as the streets outside turn suburban and unfamiliar he needs to count the stops.

Day dreaming’s an expense he can't afford if he doesn't want to be late. First lessons are hard enough without having to explain why he's not on time.

Languished footsteps fall onto pristine sidewalk as the bus hisses and takes off behind him, leaving him to unknown cookie cutter streets.

A knot in his shoulder makes him huff and wince backpack sitting uncomfortably over the muscles there.

He misses the van.

The thought isn't new but lingers a little longer on mornings like this, as his feet hit the ground every step’s a reminder of how much easier it would be.

How much safer he'd feel.

He pushes the thought down, reasoning he wouldn't be able to afford the gas anyways.

Ignores the fact that one appointment wouldn't take almost two hours out of his morning.

A low whistle leaves him as he finds the street, a cul de sac of matching white houses with cloned cherry wood trees to the left of their driveways.

The air smells like breakfast and there's distant chatter of kids in the tall fenced off gardens.

Number 12.

The driveway alone rivals the size of, your his apartment.

He checks his hair in the car window, pulling it back with the satin purple scrunchy on his wrist, biting into his cheek as he wraps it round his hair.

Just another piece of her which remains, stuck into his life like splinters that he keeps fucking finding, just beneath the skin.

He takes a breath, shaking out his arms as he pushes the doorbell, a muffled sing-song tune alerts the house to his arrival.

He shifts nervously, an outline through the frosted glass approaching.

It wouldn't be the first time someone had closed the door in his face. Not even giving him the chance to explain who he was, why he was there bringing down the house prices.

The lock clicks.

“Hi.”

“Can I help you?”

“I'm Eddie, we spoke on the phone. I'm here for guitar lessons with Sam.”

An hours worth of Munson charm and some badly done scales later, he leaves with an envelope full of cash and homemade brownies snug in his backpack.

Six more lessons booked for the same time each week, discussed while Mrs Graham waved him away and flushed pink at his talk of her not looking old enough to have a 10 year old.

As the buildings get taller again, the bus back starts filling out and his mind strays as he tries to avoid eye contact.

You said you worked around here.

He doesn't need to be at the school for another couple of hours and he lets his feet carry him off a few stops early. Through seas of trench coats and shoulder pads he meanders, a streak of black slipping between white pressed shirts.

Shined shoes file into buildings through glass doors and he wonders, if in another time you're hurrying in with them.

All the buildings look the same here, concrete mountains, unfriendly and overbearing.

He hopes you don't work in one of these.

He sits himself on the back of a bench when the streets turn more pedestrian, bakeries, cafes and mini marts lining the sidewalk.

The cool metal of the bench bleeds past dark denim and into the skin on the back of his thighs as he digs into the bag of brownies, squinting into the late morning sun he pulls his hair free shaking it out.

The woman on the opposing bench watches him and he gives her a tight smile, she looks away.

The next bus is late.

Of course it is.

The walk into school feels surreal enough without him rushing in late for classes.

It's some kind of ironic fuck you from the universe that the best steady source of income he's got means he’s back in the hallways of a high school 3 days a week.

He pulls at the creases in his shirt, formed in his bag over the course of the morning, swapped out for his hoodie on the bus ride over.

The tie around his neck makes him feel like he's choking.

The kids aren't bad, just, not as enthusiastic or interested as the home school kids, he can't blame them.

Pale walls and bright lights seem to suck out your soul while simultaneously spotlighting all your imperfections.

He hadn't wanted to be there at 16 either, still didn't a decade later.

They keep fucking about. Not listening and he doesn't mean to snap, but the fluorescent lights and noise are grinding on him quicker than he should let it.

He spends the time between lunch and after school classes pouring over the book in the teachers lounge while it's empty, drags his way through after school lessons then makes his way back to the city.

One more.

A standing appointment.

Within the city only a short walk from the bus station.

There's no Munson charm here.

He won't leave with brownies.

It's the most comfortable he's felt all day.

A shared acknowledgement of a long day is made over tired eyes as Ruth answers the door to the 5th floor apartment.

“Eddie's here.”

Lizzy, 13, spunky, and really fucking good.

She likes old school Maiden and is in love with Joan Jett.

She reminds him he's old every chance she gets.

Her mom can't really afford him and pays by the week, no block payments but she's never missed a lesson.

Change and creased notes scavenged and saved, are always waiting for him on the small kitchen counter when he leaves.

He picks up snacks on the way there, store brand candy bars and chips that he always forgets when he leaves.

It's a routine he savours.

A place he feels welcome with no pretence of being the help. An hour of playful jabs, jamming and laughter that drowns out the low hum of the radio.

Everything's dropped as soon as he passes the threshold of the door, his shoulders sagging as he walks heavily into the living room.

Late afternoon sun casts the far side of the room in shadows.

Popcorn and peanuts lay all over the floor.

His hands find his face and he lets out a frustrated moan into his palms as he turns and grabs the broom.

It's the bare minimum swept back into the bowl, gritty flakes and salt still peppering the green carpet

He can vacuum tomorrow.

The full coffee pot sits idle on the counter as he walks into the kitchen and his foot catches a crumb pile he made while he swept this morning

It didn't quite manage its way to the garbage.

It's overwhelming in the least intrusive way and he can't stand it.

He's done and the rattling quiet is making his thoughts tumble and run into each other.

Chores and bills and otherworldly bullshit.

It can all wait.

He collapses onto the couch, hair splayed out as he groans face down into the upholstery, legs stuck out at angles which will ache soon if he doesn't move.

The music’s turned up, drowning out the silence of his surroundings and the noise inside his head.

He should read, make more notes, clean, put away the cash sitting in his bag but instead he lets the music become a theme tune to his overactive imagination.

The sound of the door slamming into the wall announces your arrival home, reverberating around him and causing a grin to spread across his face from where his head hangs upside down off the couch.

The tape’s long finished and the energy to get up and flip it crawled out into the couch cushions a good half hour ago.

“Hello” your voice calls out and he purses his lips as it echoes out into the empty space.

“Eddie?”

That's louder, there's a distant sound of something being dropped to the ground with a dull thud, then your movements become clear.

He manovers himself silently upright.

You're mumbling to yourself, some kind of list and he can imagine you infront of him at your kitchen counter.

With a stretch of his arms he cups his hands around his mouth.

“Warning! Warning! ”

The choked scream you let out is followed by the clatter of cans and his responding cackle has him falling back against the couch, soft pillows catching tired muscles as he grins.

“You fucking son of a bitch. Why?”

Your voice is breathy and he shrugs to himself.

“Couldn't find a bell. So next best thing.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don't.”

There's a pause and something stutters through him as he wonders if the impulse to fuck around with you was too much.

He's too much.

“How was work?”

It comes out quick, a little cracked and he winces as his words press into the empty air.

It reminds him of the first few days, when he thought that the loneliness was finally starting to mess with him.

“Fine.” You say finally, a small laugh in your voice that comes out in a huff, echoing and floating around him. “You?”

“Uh yeah, yeah good, got a new kid on the roster, got lunch out of it.”

“Lunch, how ingenuitive of you. How'd you manage that?” The yawn you let out disguises the last syllables of the words and it catches the muscles in his jaw.

“My unyielding charm” he says with his own, eyes falling closed.

He hears you snort.

“Just ‘cause I haven't turned it on with you.”

“Hmmm.”

He smiles and imagines you rolling your eyes.

Imagines that you're walking around the room.

“So scaring me half to death whenever I walk in isn't part of your unyielding charm. ”

The last few words are muffled by another yawn and his eyes open, staring at the ceiling with a small frown.

“You get back to sleep?”

There's a pause in your footsteps.

The obvious unconscious elephant in the room rousing.

“For a bit."

He nods his head chewing the inside of his cheek as he hears you resume doing whatever it is you're doing in the kitchen.

“I think I know why we end up there.”

He turns his head towards your voice, warped and disembodied its floating out from around the sideboard Paul left.

“ Yeah?”

“ Well not why, but how. Sort of?”

“Sounds like you cracked the case Columbo.”

“Shut up.”

He waves out into the open air and you proceed like you've seen him.

“We both fell asleep around the same time right? So, maybe we both have to be in the same sleep stage? We could both be in deep sleep or REM at the same time if we fall asleep at the same time. ”

“We sleep at the same time all the time.”

“ Yes, but we went to bed at the same time. ”

“I'm lost.”

You sigh and the clank of something metal being set down rings out.

“There's different stages to sleep, depending on how long you've been sleeping. If we go to sleep at the same time maybe we could test it.”

He quirks an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “You want to give me a bedtime”

“Yes.''

The resolute sound of your voice makes him break into a full grin and he withholds the puns which threaten to spill out.

Then the sickness comes wrapped in the memories of last night.

“If it's all the same to you, I'm not exactly excited about going back,” another yawn wracks him and he's thankful for it hiding the shake in his words. He lets his head lol to the side “I can't promise I'll stay awake anyway.”

“Rough day?” Your voice has lost any edge and he doesn't know why it makes his chest ache.

“Just, long.”

His stomach suddenly grumbles loud enough to hear and you laugh quietly. “I should probably eat before I pass out” he grimaces, hauling himself up with a groan.

“You making some sort of future food? Astronaut blocks, powder you stir into water that keeps you full all day.”

You laugh, and he stretches his arms above him smiling to himself.

“Lembas bread.” you quip.

D. RiPpp…

His eyes snap open, dust twisting above him dancing in a gentle light that nowhere provides.

The drip is always off on this side, garbled like it's been re-recorded so many times the edges of the sound have lost any clarity.

You're going to be so smug.

The dread hits him then, catches and settles in the pit of his stomach as he climbs out of bed and peers into the hallway shielding his eyes from the unwavering light at the end.

There's a fleeting fear that you might not be here this time, leaving him to navigate the nightmare alone.

It makes his feet move a little quicker, over the disarray and dirt that clings to the world around him. The items from his life sitting amongst it all like pristine placeholders for when he'd finally checked out for the day.

You're standing at the threshold to your bedroom door when he makes his way through.

Biting at the side of your thumb with a small frown as you glare at the darkness in front of you.

You look tired, clothes wrinkled and posture leaning awkwardly.

“So, this is when you gloat, yeah?”

You startle a little before a triumphant grin spreads on your face.

“I told you.”

“I never said you were wrong.” He scratches at his neck looking over the room. “So what now?”

Your grin dies and you turn away from him, taking tentative footsteps edging around the black.

He wishes he wanted to move, but he doesn't, he's rooted to the floor, watching you.

He can just about see the kitchen floor, it's completely black, indistinguishable between the darkness and the liquid that's now merged with it, slowly soaking out onto the carpet that borders where the linoleum should be.

You're leaning in, you're so close to it.

He swallows.

“I've been reading up, about where we might be.”

“You have?” you look at him over your shoulder and he manages a step forward .

“You're not the only one who can investigate and shit.”

He squirms internally under your gaze wondering if you can see his heart pounding, eyes flicking to the shadows.

Nodding his head behind him, he moves back as soon as you start to approach, slipping behind waves of light as you follow.

Thank fuck.

“D&D? “

You say face unconvinced as he waves his hands out with a flourish to the books that lay haphazardly at the end of his bed.

“What?”

“I was just kind of hoping for something. Real.“

His face falls and he looks at you eyes slowly moving to the light which now pours in through a dark window.

You press your lips into a hard line nodding to yourself. “Fair point.”

He settles onto the end of the bed pulling the book onto his lap and opening his notepad. Pages decorated in scrawl, page numbers circled, words underlined.

“So there's a few planes that match stuff here, but the cosmology of planes just makes sense, like the overlaps and- ”

His eyes flick up to where you stand, wide eyed and staring.

“Lost?” he asks and you nod your head stepping towards him.

“Shit. Okay.”

You come to sit beside him.

“Where'd I lose ya’”

You wince “The beginning?”

You smell like the cold, like when Wayne would come back home on early spring mornings, the world still dark, bird chatter in the trees around the trailer.

It makes him homesick.

He tells you the basics: the idea of the planes, overlapping worlds, door ways of colours.

You're a good student, interested, asking questions.

Running off on tangents with him.

He explains the fey wilds and all the other worlds that he noted down messily as the bus swayed this morning.

“So what's the dark?”

He flips the pages, doodles of monsters and ghouls litter the page and he passes you the book.

The Abyss.

Sprawling desolate landscapes and figures shrouded in shadow stare back from the pages and he looks to you.

“Yeah that checks out.”

Your eyes scan the pages, taking in details about shades and fiends, creatures that suck the life from you.

He watches you absorb it all, then your eyes lift, staring at a spot on the other side of the room before you abruptly stand.

“Where are you going? Hey?” his arm shoots out grabbing your wrist. .

“To look at it, if it's a different place then -”

“Can we not, go stare into the dark caverns of hell tonight.”

He drops his grip on you, hand scrubbing over his face.

“Don't you want to know if there's something in there? “

“It hissed and made screeching sounds that made my lungs feel like they were going to explode. I think it's a damn safe bet something in there.”

Your face softens a fraction, eyes moving to watch where his leg is bouncing and he slaps a palm to it in an attempt to steady it.

“Okay.”

You offer the book back to him and he takes it sceptically.

“Okay?”

“We know how to get here now, it can wait.” You say with a shrug.

He watches as you come to sit back on the bed leg tucked up under yourself.

“So, what now dungeon master?”

He lets himself fall backwards onto the bed and you look down at him expectantly as he waves the book at you.

“Roll for initiative?”

The only noise that echos is the drip, the sound curls then dodges around rays of light and distended furniture until it dissolves into the black.

Your muffled laughters hidden away behind walls of light, his responding grin concealed by its gentle movements which roll and flutter.

The next drip falls without a sound, a spark of light blinks behind crumbling plaster.

The abyss starts to move.

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel @kellsck @valhallavalkyrie9 @em0220

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @strangersmunsons @hellfirenacht

Let me know if you would like to be added <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #joseph quinn #knock knock #my writing #Spotify

[facefullofsadness]

how could my day be bad when I'm with you?

university!au

gf!winter x reader

prompt - you've been wanting to go the aquarium because you need your jellyfish-sight-seeing-fix! and so your girlfriend minjeong does it for you

content - fluff! (facefullofsadness NOT writing smut? YES), a little rushed? like I fr forgot how to write chat..., time-skip, not entirely proofread, short! (kinda bad...)

wc - 1422

a/n - for my love @taniio who's bday is todayyy!!! I love you so much yumi, I hope u have a wonderful day and everything you want and love comes to fruition. don't stress about anything, you're doing so great with everything you're doing, so stop worrying, and I'll always listen to you if you need me. you know I'll always be here for you, my girl.

also mid-writing, I realized this is literally just miss perfectsunlight's fic but with minjeong and jellyfish instead of aeri and seals... so read that one too cause it's veryvery cute and lovely

god, how I love minjeong.

but she is so goddamn stubborn! I told her not to get nor do anything for my birthday coming up because we'd both be way too busy with school to celebrate it, but the glint in her eyes whenever either of us bring it up is distracting. for the past few weeks she's been like this, and I know she's plotting.

and so when I woke up this morning, day of my birthday, and she wasn't lying next to me, I already knew something was up. she strolled in with a sweet grin on her face and a tray of food in her hands.

"good morningggg~~~!!!" she greeted, kissing my forehead.

"jeongie, what are you doing?" I grumbled.

"not even a good morning back? rude!" she huffed before having placed the tray of food on my lap, "eat!"

it was an arrangement of different breakfast food she had cooked up just before I had awoken. I couldn't stop the small grin emerge onto my face as I looked up at her expression, minjeong nibbling at her lip a little as she observed me.

"well, I know you don't really like breakfast foods, but it was all we had..." she nervously explained.

before I grabbed her hand to pull her closer and thank her, she slipped away and perked up, "oh! wait!"

she ran out of the room and I heard rummaging in the kitchen before her small impactful steps were heard stomping back to our room. her hands were behind her back as she dragged her feet back to me, shit-eating grin on her face.

"whatttt???" I rolled my eyes.

she pulled out a candle and stuck it into the pile of pancakes, other hand lighting it with a lighter. she snuggled up next to me and looked at me with that glint in her eyes.

"happy birthday y/n," minjeong smiled.

I grabbed her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. she tasted sweeter than the sugary breakfast she prepared for me, maple syrup and pancakes unable to overtake the sheer taste of minjeong on my tongue. however, she pulled away before we got too passionate.

"as much as I would love to indulge in you, we have such a busy day ahead love! so hurry, eat up!" she excitedly stated.

I rolled my eyes at her, but her energy was so endearing even as she got up from my side and ran around to pick outfits for us.

"jeongie, what are we doinggggg?" I grumble as her hands cover my eyes, her standing behind me.

she giggles near my ear, filling my stomach with butterflies at the sound of her laugh, "if I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, would it?"

"but I don't even like surprises!"

"and I like doing stuff for you but not all of us can get what we want!" she sighs and places a kiss on my cheek, "just trust me y/n-ie, mkay?"

we walk together some distance after getting out of the car, minjeong having driven us to a random location. I had absolutely no idea where we were and it was a little unsettling, the unknown making me uneasy. she must've sensed my discomfort, whispering sweet reassurances into my ear.

"it's okay baby, don't worry, it'll be so worth it." her voice was so soft and comforting, making me lean further into her relaxing touch.

the surroundings got quieter and it felt a little more chilly, realizing we had entered a building, hearing out footsteps slightly echo throughout the seemingly empty room.

"where the actual fuck are we jeongie?" I nervously chuckle, hearing my own laugh reverberate against the walls.

"well, why don't you find out for yourself hm?" I hear her say with a smile in her voice, gently dropping her hands away from my face.

"open up."

and when I opened my eyes, I felt my breath hitch in my throat. behind a huge glass pane were sections of jellyfish separated by species as they swam gracefully through their tanks. I felt my body float, the warm feeling of love swell in my chest it almost hurt.

I felt minjeong's warmth come closer to my body, her face against my shoulder as I feel her lips form a smile, "how'd I do?"

my eyes water as I reach for her hand, not tearing my sight away from the beautiful view in front of me, "I love you."

her soft giggles against my body make a tear fall down my cheek. she shifts herself in front of me, coming into view and cupping my face.

she kisses the stray tear and coos, "I didn't want you to cry!"

the pout on her lips disappears as soon as I smash my own against her's. I immediately melt completely against her hold, her hands holding my face so tenderly and precious, making me feel like I was the only girl to ever exist in the universe. she felt so good against me, our mouths moving perfectly against each other, like it was meant to be just our lips to touch one another's forever.

and we kiss, we kiss until I can't breathe, we kiss until minjeong smiles cockily against my lips and I pull her away annoyed.

her smirk makes me roll my eyes, "I love you too princess."

"c'mon, there's so much to see!" she swings my arm excitedly.

"baby, don't tell me you rented this whole fucking aquarium..."

she looks around and scratches her head with her lips pursed. "are you actually insane kim minjeong?"

she giggles, "maybe, for you."

she grabs my hand and drags me through the various exhibits. the more we tour, the more I realize, it's a specialty aquarium for jellyfish.

"well, I know how much you love them! so why wouldn't I make your birthday special? for my bestest girl?"

she pulls me in for another kiss, leaving it at a simple peck and smiling at me.

"but I think you're missing the best part..." she points towards the tank behind me.

turning to meet the exhibit full of crystal jellyfish, one of my favorite species.

"come, let's look at them," minjeong drags me to the window pane and I watch them, mesmerized.

there we were, watching the jellies dance through the water, maybe for minutes turned hours. I had blocked out all noise, completely in love with the beautiful creatures swimming about in front of me.

"jeongie... did you know that these jellies can expand its mouth when feeding to swallow jellies more than half its size?" I begin to ramble mindlessly.

she hums next to me, "wow, I didn't know that. tell me more love."

"well, when they're disturbed, they give off a green-blueish glow due to their light-producing organs in its' outer bell. there are like more than 100 of them in there."

"fascinating. a shame they shine so prettily when they get disturbed, no?"

"it's true, they must shine brightest just before harvestation of luminescent aeqorin which they use in neurological and biological experiments to detect calcium."

"oh no, I guess such a thing is necessary right?"

"mhm, it's important for research and helps us know how to take care of these species. they're so pretty aren't they?"

"yeah, so so beautiful... you're so smart y/n-ie," I turn towards minjeong, her eyes fixated on only me, a serene smile on her lips.

I blush at her gaze, "how long have you been staring?"

"I've never stopped to look away from you."

I try to look away but she catches my chin, facing me towards her, "and I won't ever stop looking at you. I love you, you're all mine."

she leans her forehead against mine, "got that?"

I hum in response. "I got this for you, before I forget."

she reaches into her small bag and pulls out a card, a cute little illustration of a jellyfish on it.

"jeongie..."

"open it cutie."

flipping open the card to see a stupid little message that read:

you make me go all squishy inside, so don't be jelly, you're the only fish in the sea for me!

and next to it, a little keychain of a moon jellyfish, another one of my favorites.

"okay yeah it's fucking stupid but I love being a little silly you know-"

"it's perfect," I interrupt her.

she sighs out a breath of relief, "good."

we lock eyes, "you're perfect. happy birthday y/n."

god, how I love minjeong.

#ffos fanfics #aespa #winter #minjeong #kim minjeong #kpop gg #fanfiction #kpop #aespa fanfic #aespa x reader #aespa fluff #winter fanfic #winter fluff #winter x reader #girl group #girl group x reader #girl group fluff #girl group fanfic #fem reader #karina #giselle #ningning #Spotify

[emthimofnight]

Hello

So how would your fankids react to someone proclaiming their love to them? Asking for a friend🙏🏻

And for scientific purposes ofc

AIGHT HERE YOU GO:

Stellar: Very flustered and wondering if it is a joke. She's never been confessed to before and wouldn't know how to respond! She might make an excuse to leave to avoid embarrassing herself further. 😂

Camellia: Has been confessed to numerous times and knows how to deal with it with dignity. She is very aloof with men and is quick to nip any attraction to her in the bud. She would be far more flustered if a pretty girl confessed to her, though!

Thistle: His sister is the one always having suitors chase her around, so he would be DELIGHTED to have someone confess to him!! Being the young prince, he is often overlooked or overshadowed. He's quite the romantic at heart and often dreams of what his future partner might be like!

Jasper: He'd be very amused and would love the attention. He's a total playboy, so he eats shit like that up! If he found the person attractive, he might even entertain a date or two to see if they click. No promises for anything long-term, though!

Jade: Very chill. Would thank the confessor for the sentiment and would even go on a date with them if prompted. Kind of unintentionally a heartbreaker because she treats everyone with the same level of interest. It is very hard to tell if she likes someone more than the usual amount, or if that is just how she is!

Calico: Would be quite touched that someone had feelings for them, and would certainly try to reciprocate, if possible. They recognize how hard it is to put yourself out there and would do their best to give the person a chance!

Mirage: Oh, man. Good luck to anyone brave enough to confess to this jackass. He'd probably just say, "You have good taste," accept the flowers or chocolates and walk off. 💀 I think the only way someone would be successful in wooing Mirage is if they were someone that managed to get close to him first.

BONUS KIDS FROM OTHER AUS:

Serene: VERY FLUSTERED. Would turn red as a beet and try to hide her face. She might accidentally send the confessor flying with telekinesis, which would make her want to sink into the ground and disappear. 😂

Void: He would smirk and accept whatever offering of affection given, his eyes lacking any real light in them. He just assumes it is natural for someone to be attracted to him and cannot imagine any other specimen being able to compete with him. He believes it is logical to desire someone powerful as a mate, and who out there is better than he? That being said, whether he actually reciprocates is entirely determined by what he could get out of the person confessing.

Andromeda: Absolutely gobsmacked. She would have no idea how to react! She would be both happy to be receiving such attention, and horrified because she has no idea how to respond. She might end up sending the person confessing to her flying just to get out of the situation. That being said, she is a lesbian, and while she might enjoy having that kind of attention regardless of gender, she would only ever reciprocate those feelings to another woman.

Polarity: He would think that the person confessing to him was somehow put up to it or trying to prank him. If he was convinced the person was serious, he would be a floundering mess. Like, "Are you sure?" and "ME? You really want ME?". Once he got over the hurdle of his own self-esteem, he'd be really happy someone wanted him that way, regardless if he reciprocated those feelings or not.

#answered asks #lore dump #i guess? #fankid au #sibling au #stellar the hedgehog #camellia the cat #thistle the hedgehog #jasper the bat #jade the echidna #calico the wolf #mirage the chameleon #serene the cat #void the hedgehog #andromeda the hedgehog #polarity the hedgehog #sonadow #shadonic #blazamy #knuxouge #whispangle #espilver #silvespio #silvaze #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #amy the hedgehog #blaze the cat #silver the hedgehog

[witchywithwhiskey]

Lloyd + 61. “did you really think that would work? cute”

cooped up on a nice spring day

pairing: husband!lloyd hansen x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, choking, light bdsm, bratting, begging, teasing, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, referenced oral sex (f receiving), pet names (it's lloyd so there's a bunch), established relationship, fluff

word count: 1,800ish

a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt Eva!!! and it's so perfect for Lloyd!! i had a lot of fun writing this one—it has probably the brattiest reader i've written so far, so i hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡

The view outside your husband’s office was beautiful in the spring—in fact, the garden was one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with the house and why Lloyd Hansen had bought it for you. There were so many flowering trees and so much flourishing greenery that you felt like you could stare at it all for hours while Lloyd worked.

And, in fact, that’s exactly what you’d been doing on that particular spring day. Lloyd had even opened the window so you could feel the warm spring breeze against your cheeks and smell the sweet perfume of the lilacs and honeysuckle from the garden. It was a beautiful day and you hoped Lloyd would finish working soon so you could go outside and enjoy the sunshine together.

It had been your intention when you’d strolled into Lloyd’s office in one of your pretty sundresses to entice your husband to go for a walk in the garden with you. You’d had designs about packing a picnic and spreading out a blanket beneath one of the leafy trees to spend the afternoon together. But Lloyd had insisted he couldn’t be pulled away from work—though that hadn’t stopped him from pulling you into his lap.

One thing had led to another and your plan to coax him out of his office had been foiled when he’d talked you into straddling his lap and keeping his cock warm while he worked. With the window open, it had seemed like the perfect compromise. After all, you loved being connected to your husband in such an intimate way, and with you able to stare out the window behind his desk, you’d been content.

For a while.

But your hips ached a little from sitting in the same position for so long, and your body was growing restless from having Lloyd’s perfect cock buried inside you for so many hours without anything in the way of satisfaction. But every time you moved your hips even a little bit, even to readjust yourself, Lloyd’s hand would press firmly against your lower back and he’d urge you to keep still. 

You tried to be good, you really did, but the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon and you could feel the beautiful spring day slipping through your fingers, along with all your plans to enjoy it with your husband. A whine worked its way up your throat and you couldn’t bear to bite it back. 

“Lloyd, please, can’t we go outside for a little while,” you begged, your arms circling around his shoulders and squeezing him tight while you tried, and failed, to keep your hips from rocking in lazy circles. “You can work later.” Your last word came out on a whimper as you felt the delicious drag of his cock against your inner walls, a shiver racing down your spine.

“Just a little while longer, pet,” Lloyd rumbled distractedly, pressing his hand against your lower back and urging you to still your rolling hips. “You can be a good girl for your husband, can’t you?” He offered you a sly smile as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

Huffing an impatient sigh, you let him stop your movements, muttering, “That’s what you said an hour ago.” If you sounded petulant, that’s because you were. You didn’t even try to hide your mood from your husband, who seemed content with ignoring his wife’s needs. 

As if Lloyd could read your mind, he gripped the back of your neck and towed you away from where you’d been draped against his chest so he could look you straight in the eye. “If you give me a few more minutes of peace and quiet, I promise we’ll spend the rest of the afternoon outside,” he said, his tone patient.

But you discovered in that moment that you were all out of patience of your own. You shot Lloyd a glare before you ducked forward and nipped his ear sharply with your teeth, using your cunt to squeeze his cock as hard as your inner muscles could, wringing a grunt from your husband. 

“I want to go outside now,” you hissed in his ear, knowing exactly what you were doing and knowing it was going to get a rise out of Lloyd. But that was exactly what you wanted.

Lloyd’s hand slipped easily from the back of your neck to the wrap around the front, his thumb and middle finger digging into your throat just beneath the cut of your jaw. He pushed you back enough so you could feel the full weight of his glower, but you only scowled at him harder.

“Did you really think that would work?” he asked, tilting his head to the side while he looked down at you. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel worried about the dangerous thread in his tone, not when your husband’s attention was finally fully on you. “Cute.” 

Then Lloyd was pushing you up by his grip on your throat, rising to stand with a dark look on his face that sent a shiver down your spine. You whimpered when you lifted off his cock, your body feeling unimaginably empty without him inside you, but your husband only snarled at your pitiful sound.

“You wanna go outside? We’ll go outside,” Lloyd muttered, spinning you around and bending you over the sill of the window behind his desk. It didn’t have a screen so your upper body hung out the back of the house, only your husband’s hand holding you around your throat preventing you from tumbling out into the garden. “How’s this, princess, is this outside enough for you?” Lloyd growled in your ear, curling his body over yours and pinning you to the sill.

But it wasn’t enough for you, not when your cunt was leaking with arousal and your inner walls were fluttering pathetically around nothing. “Need you inside me, husband,” you gasped out, squirming your hips beneath Lloyd’s bigger frame, like you could somehow find the tip of him and force him to drive his full length home.

“First you demand I take you outside, then you demand I be inside you,” Lloyd rumbled, his tone mean in that way that made your whole body clench and pleasure to flood your mind. “You’re needy today aren’t you, cupcake?” he asked mockingly, his free hand reaching between your bodies to grip his dick and slide the head through your soaking folds. 

You went weak and pliant beneath Lloyd when you were so close to getting what you wanted, your lips forming the first desperate words you could manage. “Yes, yes, so needy for your cock, husband, please give it to me, please, I need you to fuck me, oh god, Lloyd, please!”

With one furious thrust, Lloyd buried the full length of his cock deep in your cunt, the tip ramming against the end of you so hard that you shrieked in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Lloyd’s hand tightened around your throat, choking off the loudest of your sounds of pleasure while he curled over your body, his chest pressing to your back, his cock grinding deep in your cunt in a way that made your toes curl. 

“Good girl, angel, sound so sweet begging for your husband’s dick,” Lloyd rumbled, his free hand gripping your hip tightly while he pounded into you with short, deep thrusts, his thighs clapping against the backs of yours. “You didn’t need to be such a brat to get me to fuck you, just needed to beg for me.”

You were too far gone with pleasure to respond, but it occurred to you that Lloyd fucking you through the open window of his office was much better than the lazy picnic sex you’d envisioned for the afternoon. Glancing through the garden, you knew if anyone was around, they’d see the obscene tableau you painted, your husband fucking you over the windowsill, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when the brutal thrusting of Lloyd’s cock felt so exquisite, your cunt clenching down on him as your pleasure grew.

“Fuck, fuck, buttercup, your cunt feels too good, you’re gonna make me come,” Lloyd groaned, his teeth sinking into your shoulder while his hand slipped between your thighs, finding your wet, slippery clit. “Come on your husband’s cock, wife, show me what a good girl you can be with my dick buried deep in this pussy.”

Your orgasm hit you with the suddenness of a champagne cork popping, leaving you awash in wave after wave of dazzling pleasure. A scream tore free from your throat before your husband cut it off with his choking grip. Your body tightened beneath Lloyd, your cunt gripping his cock so hard, it set off his own release. He rutted into you, muttering about your perfect cunt and how you were so good for coming on his cock. 

Together, you rode out your releases together, your bodies writhing against the windowsill until you were both finally sated.

Carefully, Lloyd helped you back inside, and he collapsed into his office chair, his arm banded around your waist pulling you down into his lap and keeping you connected. You leaned heavily back against his chest, your body feeling boneless from pleasure, a satisfied smile curling your lips. 

Lloyd pressed a kiss to your cheek, the bristles of his mustache tickling your skin gently and making you giggle softly.

“Will you be a good girl and let me finish my work now?” he asked in a low, delicious rumble. 

You stretched out your arms and legs, your spine curving and pushing your chest out so Lloyd could see the way your nipples poked against the thin cotton of your sundress. Grinning like the cat that got the cream, you relaxed back into Lloyd’s lap, humming in contentment. 

“I think I can manage for a little while, husband,” you purred, but you tilted your head and caught his eye. “But only for a little while.” There was a warning in your tone that made Lloyd chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you cooped up on such a nice spring day, wife,” Lloyd murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “At least, not for much longer.” 

True to his word, Lloyd finished his work soon after and, together, the two of you went out into the gardens for a late lunch. You ate the food you’d prepared for the picnic you’d planned, and then Lloyd settled between your thighs to devour you for dessert. 

You laid back on your picnic blanket beneath a shady tree in the garden of your home and let your husband worship your body. After all, it was what you deserved for being such a good wife, and his good girl, while he’d kept you cooped up for so much of the nice spring day.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x you #chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #witchywithwhiskeywork #biteofcherry

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts Tour, which affords me the opportunity to be supremely self-indulgent]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) 13: laugh

Is this still the number for John Watson?

John pauses, thumb hovering. Before he can choose a response, another message flashes in.

It's Harry

He nearly drops the phone. Or maybe he nearly throws it against the wall. Hard to say. 

His reflex to caretake wars with his lingering resentment of her absence. But he knows he would regret ignoring an olive branch… or whatever this is.

Hi

Everything okay?

No small talk, got it

Yes I'm fine, good in fact

and no I'm not going to ask you for money

He breathes in deeply.

I'm glad things are going well for you

And he is, at least in the abstract.

Thanks

I know this is the part where I'm supposed to ask how you are

But you know I'm pants at texting

Can we just have coffee or something?

John taps his phone to his lip absently and considers his options. A public reunion seems like it could be a volatile mistake, not to mention it's 7pm on a weekday. Sherlock is at the lab, Rosie is having her after-supper blanket time, and John is catching up on charting.

And to be honest, he's pretty bored.

Come to mine for tea?

Harry's three dots wibble for a while, which John supposes is fair.

Right now?

With my schedule, I have to take opportunities where I can

Okay, yeah, I'm free

He sends her the address, feeling both pleased and annoyed. One would think that hitting his own rock bottom would make him more sympathetic towards his sister. But really, it just piles helpless anger on top of guilt on top of anger, ad nauseum.

He's not even sure she knows he's a father, for Christ's sake.

Turns out, she doesn't. She walks through the door he holds open for her, and stops abruptly when she sees Rosie. 'Oh my God,' she breathes, staring. 'Oh my God. You--' She turns to John, eyes wide. 'She-- Johnny. She's yours?'

He nods, and despite everything, he feels his face curve into a proud smile. 'Her name's Rosie.'

'Can I--' Harry indicates the blanket with a sharp movement. 'Can I say hello to her?'

'Yeah, course.' He follows her, and folds himself down behind Rosie. 'Sweetheart, this is your Aunt Harry.'

Harry makes a bit of a squawking noise, probably at the 'aunt' bit, but tamps it down. 'Hi, Rosie,' she manages, her voice rough but determined. 'It's lovely to meet you. What are you playing with?'

'Avocados,' Rosie mostly manages to say, then holds one up for Harry without hesitation. Harry takes it with a giggle, and before long they're thick as thieves with a pile of emoting avocados between them.

Harry glances up at him when there's a lull. 'So. The dad life is treating you well, yeah?'

He hesitates, then nods. 'It is now.'

She eyes him, but doesn't ask about what came before now. Instead, she says, 'I'm just going to ask, alright -- who's the other parent?'

He raises an eyebrow. 'Why d'you say there is one?'

Her eyes twinkle. 'Because you do not have the fashion sense to have bought her this outfit. Your bird rich, then?'

He coughs. 'Well. No.'

She waits, though he can see she's trying not to be annoyed by his reticence. She's never understood people wanting to keep things private. 'No?'

'My… flatmate. He's able to buy her things I don't give a toss about, yeah.'

She blinks. 'You have a gay flatmate?'

John feels his ears heat up. 'I do, yeah.'

She seems weirdly impressed. 'You've come a long way from being a rugby lad, haven't you?'

He snorts. 'I'm learning how to do plaits, if you'll believe it.'

'She's not got enough hair for that yet.'

'Sherlock--the flatmate--insists it's a useful skill, though I've no idea why.'

She doesn't reply, and he looks up from where he's helping Rosie with her current avocado. 'What?' he asks, though he knows it's useless. Harry is no Sherlock but honestly, she doesn't have to be, because his emotions have always been written all over his face. It's a curse and a blessing.

'Oh holy shit,' she breathes out.

'Language,' he admonishes reflexively.

'Sorry, I mean-- Holy noses, Johnny.'

'Don't be smug.'

'Oh, I take no credit for this, I always knew the overcompensating locker room talk was hiding something.'

He rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching. 'Yeah, insecurity about willy size.'

'Okay, ew, first of all. Second of all-- What the--' He gives her a warning look. 'Ever-loving heck.'

'Short version?' She nods quickly. He decides to also give her the slightly-less-mad-sounding version. 'Got married, got pregnant, had baby, wife passed away, realised I had feelings for my flatmate. Who is a man. And who is effectively fathering my child.'

She claps her hand over her mouth, and for a moment he fears she's going to cry, but then realises she's laughing.

'Oi, that's just not on,' he protests.

'But it's ridiculous!' She holds out a hand to him placatingly, speaking through continued laughter. 'It's lovely and sad and all that, but you have to admit--'

There are tears escaping the corners of her eyes, and he feels it begin to bubble up in his chest, too. Her laugh has always been a thing of beauty, of loud, annoying, contagious, unforgettable beauty, and he can't help it.

And she's right, really. It is kind of ridiculous.

He lets out his own laugh, finally, and reaches for her hand.

[❤️]

#it's gonna be MAY 2024 #May Prompts 2024 #MayPrompts2024 #BBC Sherlock #Parentlock

[munsonsmixtapes]

Heyyy! I love your works and I was wondering if you could do something with prompt 23 and reader’s birthday? Maybe not having anyone to spend it with because everyone is busy and spending the day with Eddie or Steve because they’re amazing.

I’ve got a birthday coming up and basically everyone is going to be out of town or unavailable so it just kind of popped into my head. Totally feel free to change up the vibe and stuff if it’s not the move it was just on my mind!

Wishing you the best :)

Happy birthday, lovely!! I hope you’re still able to make a great day despite the circumstances!

Prompt used: “Would you just shut up and kiss me?”

Eddie x fem!reader

Just like every other year, it seemed like everyone had forgotten your birthday yet again. Everyone except Eddie, that is. Even when the two of you were friends, he always made a point to make your birthday the best day of the year, always topping the last year with his elaborate plans.

This year was definitely the best of them all. Eddie had taken you to see your favorite band and the two of you had somehow gotten a spot right in front of the stage. You were so close that you could have put your hand out and touch the band if you reach far enough. So close that it was definitely damaging your eardrums, but you didn’t even care. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you were going to take it.

Eddie watched you sing along to the songs and couldn’t help but fall even more in love with you as he watched your eyes fill up with so much admiration for a band that you had loved so much and had only been able to see because of him.

You turned to see him smiled at you and you just smiled back before cuddling into his side as you continued to sing along to the song that the band was performing. He sang with you as best he could and this was the moment that he knew. The moment that he realized that he was in love with you.

You turned in his arms to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck while his went to your waist. You pulled him in your arms sweet kiss, not even caring about the people around you. You felt like it was what you owed him for giving you the best birthday ever.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart. Are you having a good time?” You pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms even more around your waist.

“The best, Eds.” You pressed another kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for you, lovely. And I do mean anything,” he winked.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” you winked back.

You pulled him into a hug and buried your face into his neck, pressing a kiss to it before pulling away. You could see that there was a look on his face that you couldn’t quite make out. Something that you hadn’t recognized, but whatever it was, it was intense. A smile then broke out on his face and you couldn’t help but mimic it since it was so infectious.

“I love you.” He said the words with so much confidence, but unfortunately, they were loud enough and you leaned forward so you could hear him better.

“What?” You turned your head so your ear was right by his mouth so you could hear him better.

“I’m in love with you.” Maybe just one more time, louder this time, but you still couldn’t hear it.

“What?” Just as you asked the question again, the music stopped so the band could do their next song and that was when Eddie finally raised his voice loud enough.

“I’m in love with you!” The loudness of his voice caused everyone around you to turn to him, some in annoyance, but others laughed.

“Oh my god, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so embarrassed and I can’t believe that I-”

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“Would you just shut up and kiss me?”

Eddie pressed his lips to yours and both of you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. He smiled as well and the two of you couldn’t help but laugh into each others mouths.

“I love you too,” you told him once you pulled away, ignoring all of the looks. In that moment, it was just the two of you. You loved him too. So much so that it hurt and that night really solidified your feelings. Not just anyone would have taken you to a concert of a band they weren’t really into just because they knew you liked them. Just to see you smile.

“That right!” You heard a voice and turned to see that the lead singer was staring at you and Eddie. He was smiling wide and you never thought you would have ever gotten his attention. “We love love here so everyone give it up to the happy couple!” He began to clap and the audience joined it, erupting in cheers.

Both you and Eddie blushed and turned to each other, your smiles not faltering. He pulled you in for a deep kiss and the lead singer continued to clap for you. Yeah, there was definitely no way Eddie was going to be able to top next year.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

WANNA WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR NECK. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen x Helaena's Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: After making a fool of you in Court, you sought your revenge on Aegon. Now, he plans on retaliating.  word count: 1, 000+ words

From the moment you had arrived at the Red Keep as Helaena’s Lady-in-waiting and companion, you and Aegon instantly did not get along. Neither of you could remember what exactly started this mutual hatred between each other. It could have been the crude comment he made about you, along with the subtle pinch on your butt in passing. Or it could have been the horrid comment he had made in passing about  his sweet sister-wife. 

Either way, he was the bane of your existence. He was crude, lazy, glutinous, quick to anger, and you would not be entirely upset if he were to be pushed down a flight of stairs. Sure, you could understand that the tension amongst the family would create a fester pool of spite and resentment within him. But, you thought it was no excuse as the rest of his siblings were decent enough. 

That seemed to trigger something within him. He started to do little things, subtly tripping you when you walked by or putting a book on a shelf that you could not reach. At first you thought nothing of it. It was minor and a little annoying. Then, it escalated. From moving books to high shelfs, to pouring wine on you or treating you like some lowborn servant. 

That was when you sought your revenge, in the form of his brother. Technically, you could not touch him as he was royalty. But, Aemond? He was more than compliant in helping you seek your revenge. He happily moved things in Aegon’s chambers, nothing drastic but enough to make him think he went mad, sharing giggles with you as Aegon descended into madness. 

Now it was Aegon’s turn for revenge. 

Watching as you walk side by side with Aemond, Aegon glares daggers at the two of you, his mind still reeling from the knowledge you two had been plotting against him with his own brother. It was the most proud and betrayed he had ever felt. He didn’t think that you had it in you to retaliate back. You were a proper Lady of the Court and one day made a good wife and Mother to some Lord. He honestly thought that you would just take it with a smile. No, instead you were a smart little thing. Working with his brother to make him go mad.

“Thank you for this, Aemond. I am in debt to you.” You explain, smiling at Aemond. 

“No, I do not need you to repay me.” Aemond shakes his head, “I found some enjoyment in tormenting my brother.”   

“Truly? I would think that you would wish for some payment for all you have done.” You ask, an innocent look on your face. 

“Nothing can make up for getting the pleasure to see my brother run around a fool.” Aemond jests, “Trust me when I say this, he deserves it after all the things he has done.” 

Scowling at the conversation between you and Aemond, he was not feeling jealous in the slightest at your closeness, it was nothing like that. Not in the slightest. He was not jealous. He was not jealous about this in the slightest. Aegon was not jealous. Why would he be jealous? It was just his brother. It was just you, you the irritating little Lady-in-waiting for his bore of a sister-wife. 

Seeing you wander closer to the edge of the dock with Aemond, he snaps out of his thoughts sprinting at the two of you at full speed. If he could not hurt you anymore with his little jabs and pranks, then he’d retaliate more strongly. Tackling you into the water, he stumbles for a moment on a wooden plank on the dock, before falling alongside you.

Letting out an ear piercing screech as you're roughly tackled, you’re pushed under water, your senses on fire at the clash of ice cold water on you. Swallowing a mouthful of water, you snap out of your daze, breaking the surface of the pond. Hacking and coughing up water, you stand up, ice cold water lapping at your waist. 

Shivering at the cold water that had now drenched you, you waddle through the water to the dock, her soggy shoes filling with mud. Cringing at the feeling of mud in your shoes, you look up at Aemond, a concerned look on his face. Pushing back your now ruined hair from your face, you take Aemond’s outstretched hand, pulling yourself up on the dock. 

“Thank you, Aemond.” You weakly mumble, “

“Let me find you a maid and something to cover yourself with.” Aemond nods, quickly departing. 

“Please.” You nod.

Hunching over for a moment, you cough up some water you had swallowed, your breathing labored and horse. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you glare at Aegon, still standing in the waist deep water. Resisting the urge to jump back in the water and strangle him right then and there, you wrap your arms around yourself, attempting to hide your now soaked gown. The fabric sticking to you is like a second skin and leaving plenty to imagination. 

“You white haired little cunt!” You sneer, “How dare you do that to me, I ought to strangle you myself for this!” 

“Tis’ a debt being repaid.” He snaps back, pulling himself up on the dock.

“A debt? You must have smashed your head on the dock and gone mad.” You snap back, scoffing.

“You made me a fool in my own home, thinking I’ve gone mad.”

“I did no such thing. Mayhaps you are truly going mad to think such things.” You scoff, your cheeks flushing a bright pink from anger. 

Standing toe-to-toe with him, you do not back down from him, your anger boiling up further and further. You had tried to be reasonable and handle the situation like a proper Lady would, gritting your teeth and taking it all on the cheek. Maybe even offering a soft chuckle to hide the bitterness that boiled up. But, for him to do such a thing, especially in front of Aemond. It was pushing your patience. No, he was bloody dancing upon it like it was some kind of competition. 

Curling your hands up into fists, your temper boils at the smug grin on his face, his face looking incredibly punchable in this moment. His stupid wet hair that stuck to his brow, the way his tunic was practically glued onto him. If he wasn’t a cunt, he’d look handsome. What? No, no, you did not find Aegon Targaryen handsome. He was a cunt, a handsome one. But, he was Helaena’s husband and brother. It would be improper, not to mention it would make him smug.

“Tis’ worth getting a little wet just to watch you get all angry.” He smirks, his voice cocky.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’d do it all again. Twas’ worth watching my brother look at you like some whore for the way you are dressed.” He taunts, only fueling your anger. 

Stopping yourself before you did something truly stupid, you take a step back from him, knowing that if you stood any closer to him you’d snap. Sharply turning away from him, you storm away from the dock, arms tightly wrap around yourself to hide your soaked gown. The last thing you needed was for him to catch a peek at anything that may be sheer.

You could not kill him. You could not kill him.

“You're a cunt, a vile little one praying for his Mother’s love like a wounded puppy.” You sneer, the words spill out. 

“You dare to insult me?!” He sneers, his voice booming.

“Oh, but I do, you're the cum shot that your Mother should have swallowed!” You snap back harshly, “If you dare to touch me again, I will personally see to it that you are punished.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

#house of dragons x reader #house of dragons #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #house of the dragon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen x reader #king aegon #aegon the second #hotd aegon #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd season 2 #hotd #hotd smut