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f1byjessie · 2 months

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IN FAIR VERONA ━━ CL16.

things are hard when you're the only female in a male-dominated space, and the newest driver for the newest team knows this best.

( charles leclerc x driver!schumacher!reader )

━━ part one.

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yourusername feeling blue?

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user i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING SO HARD RN 😩

user y/n schumacher never misses

↳ user let’s be real here user the entire schumacher family never misses

↳ user y’all have seen mick’s most recent post too right??

user she is so gorgeous i am ILL

user god really does have his favorites huh 😭😭

↳ user this is undeniable proof

↳ user people this beautiful don’t actually exist i refuse to believe it

user every day i wake up and cry that i will never be as stunning and skilled as her

user formula 2 silly season has me losing my damn mind i swear 😫 i might as well be wearing a tin foil hat with the number of theories i’m following and the consistent blue themed posts y/n keeps dropping are NOT HELPING

↳ user not to add to your conspiracy madness, but it’s already confirmed that fred vesti is replacing jehan daruvala who’s moving to mp motorsport, and there are rumors that oliver bearman is also getting a prema seat which could mean that y/n schumacher is going to another team as well or leaving f2 entirely

↳ user a good chunk of the other teams have already revealed their driver lineup and none of them include schumacher, which doesn’t leave a lot of options IF the rumours are true

↳ user i can’t see her just leaving motorsports entirely considering she’s worked so hard to get where she is 🤔 which calls into question whether she’s moving to a different racing series

↳ user i really can’t see schumacher leaving tbh, especially since she’s been in f2 since 2017 and has established herself as a prema legend basically

↳ user the fact that she has been at prema for so long (and has gotten p2 in the f2 championship nearly every year since 2017) could also be proof that she’s moving on to bigger and better things

↳ user wait she’s been there HOW LONG??? since 2017??? as in she drove with charles leclerc, her brother mick, AND oscar piastri??? 🤯🤯🤯

↳ user she’s had a very long and successful career there, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she decided to retire from formula racing and move onto some other series that’s more woman-friendly, all things considered 🤷‍♀️. she has been runner-up every year that she’s competed, proven that she has what it takes to make it in a higher level of formula racing, and yet not a single f1 team has even offered her the opportunity to be even a test or reserve driver? 🤨 something isn’t adding up and i don’t want to say it’s because she’s a girl in motorsports but it’s kind of hard to ignore the proof when it’s put right in front of you.

↳ user guys the keyword is “if” here, of course, bc as fun as it is to speculate it is all still speculation and we won’t know for certain until it’s revealed by official sources. silly season is called that for a reason, and for all we known y/n is drawing out the announcement of her continued partnership with prema to stir up interest. she’s been in a very loyal and secure partnership with them for years now, a partnership that both she and prema seem very happy to keep considering just how long it’s lasted.

↳ user f2 is another series that once you win the championship you are no longer allowed to compete in, so prema may have kept her around to help carry her male teammates into first place until females are more accepted in formula racing so that she could eventually move up to f1

↳ user prema’s gonna announce her as their driver with vesti and you all are gonna look so fucking dumb for this 🙄🙄

user blue is HER color now 😍

maseratimsg 💙

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yourusername to the women of f1 that came before me, who paved the way, this is for you.

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maseratimsg When you race, they race with you 💙.

↳ yourusername 🫶💙

user Y/N SCHUMACHER??? IN FORMULA ONE??? IN 2023???

user i’ve been following her career for years now and this makes me so excited omg

↳ user me too!! she’ll be the first female to drive in f1 in over 30 years 🤭

user HARD LAUNCH BUT FOR THE 2023 GRID I GUESS

user when maserati announced they’d be getting back into formula racing i had no idea that also meant formula one as well?? they’ve got drivers in the 22-23 formula e season right now but this is how i found out about y/n schumacher driving for the 23 formula 1 season? i think i am going into shock

user 2023 might actually be a good year if this is how we’re gonna be going into it

user WOMEN IN MOTORSPORTS

user milf = man i love females-in-fast-cars

user been watching f1 since i was a kid, always wondered why there were no girls out there driving. this year i’ll get to turn on that tv and finally see someone who looks like me

↳ user it’s so fitting that maserati’s original f1 team also had the first woman f1 driver, and now they’ll be breaking barriers again by having another woman f1 driver in their first season back

↳ user i’m hoping they’ve got a good car ready cuz i wanna see y/n schumacher up on that podium telling everyone who didn’t believe she could do it just cuz she was a girl to eat shit and die 😤😤😤

user there’s a reason there aren’t any female drivers in f1. she’s doomed to fail just like all the others smh 🙄

↳ user the biggest reason is sexism, and y/n has consistently proved throughout her career that she is just as skilled if not more than her male counterparts. she works harder to make up for the physical disadvantages she has as a woman, and she still wipes the floor with the other drivers. she’s not “doomed to fail” she’s practically destined to succeed.

↳ user y/n has trained her ass off to be the best, and she’ll prove it when she gets out on the tarmac in bahrain, just you wait 🥱

↳ user she’s literally a 6-time f2 runner up??? sure, she didn’t win, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still incredibly fucking impressive that she’s managed to get p2 against her male counterparts 6 YEARS IN A ROW 👀👀 her brother got p12 his first season and you know what she got? p2. she’s already raced with the likes of charles leclerc, zhou guanyu, yuki tsunoda, alex albon, george russell, lando norris, and a number of other very prominent formula racing names, and she held her own against them all incredibly well. she gave her own brother a real run for his money when they were teammates in 2019 and 2020, and in 2021 she was only a 9 point difference away from oscar piastri, whereas the p3 finalist was nearly a full 60 points below both of them. get out of here with that “there’s a reason there aren’t any female drivers in f1” bullshit, because the reason is misogyny 😒🙄

user not to be that person but like??? who else is lowkey excited for potential driver x driver romance?? 🫣

↳ user nah cuz i didn’t wanna make this about that but i’m actually totally ready to see who she has the best chemistry with on the grid 🫢 first hope is charles leclerc cuz they’d be a power couple hands down but also mayhaps max verstappen?? maybe??

↳ user totally agree babes a ferrari and maserati romeo and juliet love story would destroy me 😩

↳ user the parallels are already paralleling

↳ user to add to the parallels, her and charles were teammates at prema in 2017

↳ user OMG RIVALS TO STAR CROSSED LOVERS??? 😭😭

↳ user schumacher and leclerc are about to live out THE fanfic dream i can see it now

user can’t wait to see her mop the floor with these boys next year

user 2023 IS GONNA BE CRAZY 💙💙

user if i see any of those lads talk down about her or dismiss her just because she’s a woman, it’s on fucking sight 💀

↳ user they did that campaign in 2021 about equality in racing and i am BEGGING that it wasn’t just a media ploy and that they actually believe what they said about men AND women being able to drive

user this is about to be the best f1 season in history folks

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maseratimsg Prepare for trouble, and make it double ✌️💙.

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user SCHUMACHER TWINS TEAMMATES AGAIN???

user someone pinch me i think i’m in a dream 😳

↳ user i pinched myself and this is in fact very real

user we knew y/n would be driving for maserati but to also have MICK? maserati picked not one but TWO legacy drivers they have an agenda to push and they are certainly pushing it

↳ user yeah, an agenda to win 😌

↳ user genuinely just imagine how much natural talent and skill will be in that garage come the start of the season with michael schumacher’s twins…

↳ user back in 2020 when they raced together at prema, i saw someone joke that they were made into twins because no singular human being would be able to handle having that much racing prowess, so they were split up. but idk how much of it was actually a joke because they were scarily good as teammates? y/n has always finished no more than 10 points behind p1, and mick is a very powerful driver in his own right. putting them together and letting them drive as allies again instead of rivals will be a sight that’s for sure.

↳ user imagine being nerfed at birth cuz fate knew you’d be too powerful otherwise 😂😂😂

user blue is THEIR color apparently

user it’s the schumachers’ world and we’re just living in it

↳ user schumachers vs the entire f1 grid sounds like an insane clickbait article but the fact that it’ll be real in a few months is crazy

user everyone’s talking about y/n and mick but i’m stuck on the fact that there will finally be 11 teams driving for f1 again

↳ user maserati really said fuck the expectations

↳ user maserati’s gonna get a 1-2 with the schumachers in their first year back i’m calling it now 🤪🤪

↳ user first female driver in f1 in 30 years and first 11th team to drive in f1 since 2016, and i’m betting it’ll be first ever female driver to podium in f1 and first ever female driver to win in f1 too because i’ve seen y/n schumacher’s skill and i guarantee that if she’s actually given the ability to go all out then she’s gonna be a force to be reckoned with

user hope they’ve got a good car planned cuz i wanna see these two put up a good fight

user verstappen better watch his back 👀

user Y/N SCHUMACHER WDC 2023

user at least mick got to drive with seb still on the grid, but i’m actually heartbroken that y/n won’t be able to 😔

↳ user and kimi too

↳ user i think the only drivers left are hamilton and alonso no? from before their dad retired i mean

↳ user perez, hulkenberg, and ricciardo too, but they only drove on the same grid as michael schumacher for a couple years

↳ user i imagine it would suck to lose but i personally would be very proud to see my old friend’s kids standing on a podium above me or beside me 🥹

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mickschumacher from beating you into this world, to beating you in karting (both professionally and casually), i'm so proud to have the chance to beat you in formula 1 too

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yourusername those are fighting words micky 🤨

↳ mickschumacher not sure what you mean 😊

↳ yourusername it’s on sight 👊

user GUYSSS JUST THINK ABOUT THE PADDOCK INTERACTIONS BETWEEN THESE TWO

↳ user the media days boutta be crazyyyy

↳ user i’m imagining the chaos of not just having siblings on the grid together, but twins specifically, and i’m already getting a migraine on behalf of whoever their pr officers are 😅😭

↳ user 2023 is the year they make a geneva convention for the grid prank wars and it’s gonna be the because of the schumachers

user baby photos oh i am unwell 🙃

↳ user i’ve caught a nasty case of baby fever i fear

↳ user they’re both menaces as adults, i wonder how bad they were as little kids

↳ user baby fever cured methinks 😶

user 💙💙💙 MICK P1 2023 💙💙💙

user mick being proud to race with his sister but also making it well known that he isn’t gonna take it easy on her is the type of sibling rivalry content i’m looking forward to seeing this season

↳ user i need all the drivers to have this same mentality bc i know mick is gonna recognize her as the threat that she is, but if any of those lads underestimate her just bc she’s a girl, then their karma will come in the form of eating the dust of y/n schumacher’s car

↳ user PREACH 🙌🙏

charlesleclerc cannot wait to have you both on track this year

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @casperlikej

━━ a/n: first and foremost, happy international women's day! i've had this sitting around for a little while now and decided that today would be the perfect day to finally share it, what with the themes of women empowerment and breaking the glass ceiling. my main priority will still be my lando series until i can get that finished, but updates for this might appear in between on occasion. i also wanna take a moment just to appreciate the sheer amount of research that went into this, finding a team that would reasonably work well as an 11th team for formula 1 was a bit difficult, but i'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth when maserati fits pretty perfectly. also, as a twin myself, i'm incapable of writing a sibling duo that aren't also twins, and i have zero shame about that. anyways, i'm very excited for this, and i hope everyone else is as well!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #smau #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 #mick schumacher

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bookshelf-dust · 3 months

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baby love, my baby love

gif by @corrodedcherry

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1,880

warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things

a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love

————

“Where’s my girl at?”

Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne.

You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you.

When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you.

“Hey, bug,” he says.

You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.

You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture.

Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”

At least he’s honest.

You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”

He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”

You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way.

“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”

Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”

“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.”

You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.

The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip.

“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”

You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say.

He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen.

“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”

That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.

You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks.

He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”

You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke.

Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.

You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.

You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places.

He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh.

You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his.

Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes.

When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will.

“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.

“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”

Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does.

————

Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it.

After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body.

You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.

“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth.

Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”

You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves.

“Mhm. That felt so good.”

You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.

He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”

You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”

You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.

“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.

Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours.

Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth.

“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader fluff

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pursuitseternal · 6 months

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“Virgin Blood:” Spawn Astarion x F!Reader, nsfw Loss of Innocence Spice for you, darlings…

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.6K Loss of virginity

Summary: You’re eager to meet your rogue in the woods, and you can think of no better person to take your innocence than your Vampire Rogue… And doesn’t he just cherish the idea… eager to taste your virgin blood.

Act 1 Romance Retold…

CW: loss of virginity, first time, Praise kink, Astarion takes his time, virginity kink, gentle sex, Astarion more than happy to make you feel all the more beholding to him…

For you, Anonymous sweet thing in my ask box 💞

Ao3 link | Astarion fic Master List

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

Gods, you hope so too. Your body is on fire, and not just from the battlelust of saving lives.

It is because of him.

His little flirtations that have eroded you, his sweet words and greetings that fill your ear each day. The way his crimson eyes already devour you, as if he can’t get his full of your looks.

And then he bit you.

So intimate and foreign.

And new.

Each time now, your body sings when he feeds, and not just because you can feel your blood dripping down his throat and making him stronger.

You feel seen. Desired. Wanted. He hungers for you and seeks you out. Gods, as if you hadn’t been looking for one to do that for you since you came of age.

Something stirs in your body when you are near him, something wild and untamed. Waiting to be released. Your kind never told you what it was between two lovers, only the lessons you found in nature, the rutting seasons of the earth. That was all you knew of… sex.

But to hear him beckoning you, offering you passion like none other, somewhere quiet for just you and him.

Your body aches… burning. Singing. The blood in your veins pumping wildly. You want so badly to be touched and tasted. But mostly, wanting to be seen.

Wanting him to see more of you. All of you.

So, as the party begins to quiet, you watch your Rogue snatch up some blankets and wine, throwing you a knowing glance that makes your stomach twist and leap.

Gods, he thinks of everything doesn’t he?

Others begin to make their way to sleep, but you step into the woods. Your mind firmly set to give him another gift, and this time, you’re humming in your veins, your nerves crying to be touched. Because you want him to receive this, knowing just how much you will undoubtedly receive in return.

Your footsteps rustle softly in the leaves along the path. You follow that pull in your belly, knowing this is the way he wandered. Knowing that he is close…

That Astarion waits for you.

You pass through the trees, drawing to a stop the moment you see him. Gods, already his pale chest on display. Your mouth waters, your skin grows hot, even though you don’t completely know why.

“There you are,” he purrs, striding to close the distance between you. That handsome face is bright with his own intention. “I’ve been waiting…”

He draws still, a breath away from your body, “…waiting since the moment I saw you, waiting to have you…”

You look into that face, the way he just wants you, pouring his desire out over you, and you are ready to drown in it. “And I want you to have me,” you murmur, a coy, nervous smile dancing on your lips. Hells, you probably look like some innocent little thing. “I want you to have me as no one else has; Astarion…”

“Oh, you sweet little pet,” he croons, his face broadening into a smirk so soft, your stomach quivers. “Do you mean…”

“Yes,” you feel your cheeks hot under that lurid, crimson gaze. “I have never been…”

“Taken?” He offers. “Deflowered?” he adds, a deepening to his grin. “Fucked?”

Oh, it’s not that he’s a vampire spawn that makes him gaze at you with a voracious look in his eyes. It only makes you blush bright red and hot in reply.

“I am… touched to be offered such a gift,” he continues in that thick, honeyed voice, clasping your hands both in his. As he raises them to his lips, you are pulled even closer. Your body tingling to feel his frame, his magnificent form, just barely brushing you. “I am a bit surprised, given how forward you are… how wayward…”

“Perhaps it’s just a good fit, you and I…” you force your voice to lilt, keeping your eyes soft as you meet that insatiable stare. Your heart leaps as he licks his lips, making your hand reach to trace over his chest.

“Mmm, I will make certain it is. This gift, to be the first to know your body… it is one I will cherish… and I’ll make absolute certain you will cherish it too, darling,” his smile is breathtaking, almost as much as the way his own fingers wrap tenderly around your cheek, drawing your face into his so closely, his breath becomes your own.

Slowly he bears his teeth, his gaze raking down your neck into the v cut of your tunic. “Tell me, darling, how long have you been dreaming of this with me, fantasizing our time together as you pleasure yourself…”

Your brow quirks as you struggle to find the meaning of such a sensuous phrase.

“Oh…” he croons, the caressing touch of his hands cresting over your shoulders and drawing down your back. Your confusion ignites a new level of anticipation in him, you can see it twisting over those immaculate, pale features. Then he pulls you flush against him. “You will enjoy tonight, I am sure of it. I will too, there is nothing sweeter, I’m sure, than your first blood, your virgin blood…”

You melt at his words, trembling even before his kiss falls to consume your lips. His fingers are so deft, dexterous and featherlight as they tug the rough linen of your shirt up your body. Bunching it. Letting the night air kiss your skin little by little.

And all the while, his lips work smoothly on yours. Nothing so fast and quick as his bites. No, this is deliberate, controlled. A rhythmic dance that traps you against him and draws you closer.

Before you know it, he breaks from that caress to pull your shirt off completely. You gasp, cheeks hot as he looks you over, the gleam in his eye predacious as he scans your breasts, your skin, drawing his gaze to the band of your breeches.

Those eager lips begin to stray from your mouth, allowing you to finally gasp in the free air. But it’s still a fight, the way your body trembles as he kisses the lingering bite marks on your neck from the other night… drifting even lower to the edge of your collarbone, his breath so cool on your hot and flushed skin.

A moan escapes you, a noise you had never made before. And it makes the vampire chuckle, his lips creeping even lower as he cranes his head. His hands catching your breasts, one in each persistent palm. He massages them, fingertips sweeping over your straining nipples.

Those lips and that tongue replace one set of dexterous fingers, making the same sounds issue from your throat again. Louder. Your body wriggling as it catches on fire, like magma seeping from the earth, it boils in your veins and pools between your thighs.

He’s suckling on you, your hands shaking as you long for them to touch him too, running them into his hair. With a sharp breath, he releases one breast only to rub his tongue through the valley of your chest to trap the other one. Worshiping it with equal zeal.

Gods, you feel strange beneath your navel. Full and hot and swollen. And then, another sensation hits you as you shift on your toes.

You’re… wet. Your breeches are soaked. And it makes you shift again, more uncertain.

“You feel it, can’t you?” he raps as he lifts his head, raising to his full height to look down at you. “The way your body has awoken. You stir, and crave something.” The corner of his mouth quirks just once. “Poor little sweet thing, I promise you, you’ll like what’s coming. It’ll make it all feel better.”

Those fingers, so quick and light, pull the laces of your breeches apart before you even know what’s happening. “May I?” he whispers, running two fingers up the inside of your thigh. “You’ll need these removed, you know…”

You nod vigorously, a giggle in your throat as he grins, that glint of his teeth just peeking from his lips. But he doesn’t pull the fabric from your skin. No, he slides those fingers harder into the soft buckskin over your thighs. Then, he steals their pressure between your legs. His brows canting to feel you where you’re soaked. “My, my…” he purrs, “this will be most enjoyable. Your body already knows just what to do,” his lips twitch as he presses them against your lips again, “and so do I.”

Boldness sweeps through you, assured that you have chosen well. He will make this blissful. Make you feel like the sweet treasure you are to him.

Agonizingly slow, he strokes you there, those fingers so eager for action in the field turn all their talents now to teasing your body. You turn away, unsure as he caresses where you’re wet.

“Don’t be shy with me, darling,” he whispers, “you’re doing so wonderfully, you know.” Those hands pull your breeches down, letting them settle at your ankles. “Here,” he breathes as he grabs your hand where it still presses on the smooth coolness of his chest. “You’ll let me show you, won’t you?”

With how silken, how assured and pleased he sounds, you can’t manage a breath in reply. Only a nod and a moan as those damp fingers take your hand. He molds you to his grasp, guiding your fingers into your own arousal. It’s slippery, hot… and then your hands now slip between your folds…

You moan so loudly, your thighs shaking as he presses your fingers deeper into you.

“There now,” he purrs, lips caressing against the curve of your ear. “So wet and slick, you’re a wonder, my sweet little virgin. Your body’s already eager for me, and you don’t even know it yet.”

“Please,” you raps, pulling your hands back towards the apex of your thighs. “Show me.”

“I’ll do so much more than that, darling…”

It’s so quick, the way he’s picked you up in his arms to lay you down in the soft grass. In an instant, he’s shuffled off your breeches, the air wafting over your body, completely bared and entirely hot despite the little breezes of night.

Astarion draws his body to cover yours, so slowly, controlled, as if he plans every little graze of his skin across yours. “Sweet little thing,” he croons as he traps your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “You’re all mine aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, the feeling of his body lowering all its weight on you, sending shivers down your spine and sparks over your vision. “All yours…” you moan between his full and twitching lips.

“I do so love the sound of that, darling…” With one last little peck on your lips, he begins caressing your body, kissing and sucking your breasts once more before trailing down over your belly. It rises and falls with every heaving, nervous breath you take. “Don’t you worry,” he whispers, “the more you give in to how I’ll make you feel, the more delicious this will be.” He catches your hand again in his to slink it back where you are on absolute fire. That slick between your legs. “Now, close your eyes, and just touch…”

He brings your hands to your folds, dipping your fingertips within. So wet and soft and hot, swollen you can tell, as he draws your fingers at the crest of your folds. “There,” he presses, the little nub beneath your touch so hard, the contact instantly making your muscles clench and burn. “Should the need arise as you think of me, as you remember tonight, as you wait eagerly for the next time you come to my bed… you can touch yourself here for your own pleasure, darling…”

Your body takes over, the rhythmic tracing of his fingers guiding yours… it’s sorcery. Magic. Like fire and ice in your veins as he circles your fingers and his over that little hard bud. You flutter your eyes open, watching as he stares at you, his gaze catching yours with all the hunger and pride and desire you could wish to see. Then, those perfect lips twitch in a mischievous smirk. Already crouching between your legs, he’s licking his lips, lowering his head towards your body as his fingers still tug at you unrelentingly.

So cool and wet, you feel his tongue lapping along with your fingers. Your hips buck out of your control, muscles clenching as one possessed, but it is not in pain. It is flame and ruin and ecstasy that flood along your muscles. Spurred on by his kissing and sucking and lapping between your thighs.

That feeling crashes through you, blinding you as your back arches, your scream tearing from your throat as you writhe and spasm. Your hand goes limp between your legs as you pant.

With a laugh, he places a kiss on your soaking palm before resting it tenderly on your panting belly. His tongue laps up your seam, you can feel the flush of that slick cooling in the breeze and drying on your skin. “Oh my sweet,” he rasps, glancing from between your thighs. “You are doing so well, such pleasure for your first time,” he giggles, “don’t let it go to your head. The best is yet to come…”

You mewl, his two dexterous fingers finding their way inside you now, playing in and out. Instantly, that need reignites, consuming your flesh. Your hands reach for him… for any part of him. You find his arm, his own muscles bunched and bulging as you feel him working inside you. You feel him shifting lower, kissing the sticky skin of your inner thigh, his hand slipping another long finger inside your walls, making your muscles burn as they stretch. “Shhh,” he soothes as you groan and pant and squirm at the pressure. “You’re such a good girl, so wet and eager, this will be delicious. I doubt you will even bleed once I’m inside you…”

He chuckles, watching your body, your eyes wide and wild as that wave begins to wash over you again… the heat, the throes of pleasure you now realize come from his touch. And then he slips his thumb back over that aching little nub again.

“Gods, Astarion,” you keen, your voice rough as you tear apart. Those fingers inside you… your whole body clenches on them, the pressure, the fullness sending you careening into your climax even harder this time. Breathless, you can only make little incoherent sounds, a little louder as he insists on still pumping his touch inside you even as you come.

“Breathe, my sweet,” he smiles, “you’re going to do wonderfully.”

The chill of his touch, his whole body leaves you for a moment. But you can’t look, can’t even open your eyes as you still drift down from your pleasure.

You feel stretched and limp and warm… the gentle embrace of bliss and pleasure you had heard ballads about. You rise up on your arms, and for a moment, that warm comfort runs cold in your veins.

You see him. Naked. Breeches removed as he strokes his cock in his hand. Looking down at you where he stands. Those crimson eyes almost glow in the moonlight. But you barely glance into his face, knowing it’s hungry and needy and salacious.

No, your eyes are mesmerized by his length, so much longer than you had thought, erect and pale. You watch it twitch as he rubs himself slowly. “Shhh,” he soothes from above you, “come here, my darling. I promise you it will only hurt a bit…”

You sweep your legs beneath you, kneeling before him. His fingers caress your face. He takes a deep breath, his belly filling as his cock twitches to see you so close. “Touch me,” he whispers the instruction, your hands joining his as you feel him. So hard, smooth skin stretched over something so unyielding. Etched with pale veins that darken slightly beneath his already pale skin… you run your fingers over it as his own hand stills near its base.

Sweeping your thumb over that thick, blunted head, you make him groan. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with lust in his throat. “Soon, my pet, I’ll teach you to pleasure me in return, but tonight…” he breathes heavily, dropping to his knees with you, “tonight is about your pleasure, your deflowering as I claim your innocence my sweet.” His lips twitch, “which I am most eager to do… a gift I am forever thankful for…”

His eyes glint with intent, possession and pride, his mouth descending to capture yours again. Those powerful arms hug you tightly to his chest, that hardened cock prodding into your belly, twitching each time your mouth moves with the rhythm of his kiss.

Slowly, he lays you back into the grass, those arms that have snapped your enemies in half cradling you gently against his body. One hand slides between you, ghosting that chilling touch between your thighs, the other presses your cheek in his palm, keeping your lips trapped against his.

Then, you feel it, something thicker and harder pressing into that still molten slick between your legs. Inch by inch, he enters you, the roll of his hips against yours almost imperceptible. “Shh,” he hushes you, another caress of those full lips against yours. “You’re so good, darling…”

A bit more, your muscles burn as he slides, that slick coating him, letting his cock inside you little by little. You groan, your muscles clenching at the thickness. And he only laughs and shushes you again. “Easy now, darling, I promise. Those stories of virgins bleeding are only with bad lovers, but I will only ever make you bleed in other ways, other… more delicious ways….” He catches your lower lip in his fangs and bites down, a little nip as pain shoots through you. You groan… hardly noticing that in that moment, he’s sheathed himself between your thighs completely.

Buried deep in your throbbing channel.

“Hells below…” you groan, a wriggle of your hips as you feel the pressure easing. Burning and not in pain. That same sort that consumed you already, only now… all the stronger. “Astarion,” you look into his eyes, how they smile at you, narrowed and delighting.

“I told you darling,” he purrs, a slight movement of his hips, dragging that cock a bit out, a bit in as your mouth hangs open, “I told you I would make certain we are a good fit…”

You groan, not at his words, at the way he begins to thrust into you. Slowly, consistently, letting your body open to accept him. His mouth still hovers over yours, his breath filling your mouth, the taste of your blood still on your tongue and his as he catches it in his kiss.

“Gods,” he groans as your body begins that journey higher, driven by every thrust inside you, the heat multiplying, the clenching of your every muscle catching all the more on him inside you. “You tight, little, innocent thing…” he pants, “you’re going to be the ruin of me.” You feel his lips twisting, smirking against you, his breath coming heavily now too. His arms on either side of you shake, those hips, his body, driving into you faster. You wrap your legs around his waist, your own instincts taking hold, wanting him deeper, wanting more of him thrusting inside.

He groans as he slides to fill you completely, “Good girl,” he purrs his praises again into your mouth. Groans and thrusts consume you, the slide of his body on yours transports you… until you feel nothing that is not him.

It takes you, that press of his hips, that drag of his cock between your walls, you spill into that climax, the oblivion of twitching heat. Your mouth hanging open to keen. His cock pulls all the harder as your body clenches. Hitching, fucking, slamming with everything he’s got inside you, until he’s groaning too, gasping and whsipering in silken tones just how good you are… how tight and perfect….

You feel him inside you, gripped so hard, pulsing as that slick drips from inside. His hands cradle your cheek again, the full weight of his body lowering, blanketing you, pressing you into the earth. “See… wonderful…” he pants, another kiss against your lips, longer, tender. “Something to cherish between us forever…”

He slips from inside you, making you arch and groan at the release. Your thighs shake, even as he lowers to lay beside you, rolling you to lay in his arms. To rest your head in the crook of his shoulder.

A single finger traces your neck, his head lifting to look down your body beside him. “You see, sweet thing, not a drop of blood… well,” he chuckles, “not yet anyway.” Those smirking lips caress over the throbbing vein in your neck. “I would so love a drink of your not-so-virgin blood now…”

“Yes,” you tilt your head, your voice is sultry, heavy in your throat as you keep your eyes meeting his heavy-lidded gaze. “And then, can we… again?”

His brows raise, delighted, genuine surprise lifting those sharp features of his handsome face. “I would love nothing more,” he croons. “So addicted to me already are you?” A single laugh punctuates his words. “Perhaps this worked out better than I could have imagined,” he speaks, almost to himself, that devious, desirous smirk on his lips for a moment before his fangs bite into your skin.

Drawing that first, no-longer- virgin blood.

2K notes · View notes

lydiimae · 1 month

Text

Home.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI

Based on a request you can find here <3

Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother, vaginal sex, nipple play, vaginal fingering, praise, making love

A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦

He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.

Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.

The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.

The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.

A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.

You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.

"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.

You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.

You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.

It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.

And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.

In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.

Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.

"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.

Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.

You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.

You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.

You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.

Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.

She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.

"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.

She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.

Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.

You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.

A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.

He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.

When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.

The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?

Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.

The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.

The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.

You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.

"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.

He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.

You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.

You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.

You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.

You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.

It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.

After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.

You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.

He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.

"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.

"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.

"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.

"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.

"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.

He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.

"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.

Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.

He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.

After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.

You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?

You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.

Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.

You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.

You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.

"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.

"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.

He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.

He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.

He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.

"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.

He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.

He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.

"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.

He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.

He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.

Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.

Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.

"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.

He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.

You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.

"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.

"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.

You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.

He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.

He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.

You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.

You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.

You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.

The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.

He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.

That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.

After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.

"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.

Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.

You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.

He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.

Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.

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amorfista · 9 months

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"Dads at the beach"

The Dad Batch (and Omega) deserve a day of blissful relaxation, I don't think there's anyone out there who wouldn't agree!

While Tech is taking the best nap of his life [Part 1], Omega and Wrecker joined efforts to make the coolest sand-Tipoca city [Part 2] there is out there!

But their mischief did not go unnoticed, and the Dads of the Bad Batch, who were trying to enjoy their drinks and straight up chillax, are having a bit of a hard time doing so with all of Omega's giggles and Wrecker's barely contained laughter!

-"The kriff are these devils up to now...?" - Echo says as he takes a sip of his piña colada.

-"I'll do you one better... How the kark is Tech sleeping through that..?" - Hunter mutters in disbelief.

...TO BE CONTINUED! [Part 4]

Alright... this one took a while. I'm very sorry for the huge delay on this drawing but... some parts of it made me lose my sanity :). I hope you can catch all the small details I laid here and there. Echo's shirt covers his Fives tattoo, which is a bit sad, but that's okay because there's another version ^^:

There, that's better🥴❤️‍🔥

This project has been quite difficult and I have a lot of things that I'm not too proud about. I suck at backgrounds and I definitely am NOT GOOD at making a line of palm trees :') The characters aren't that well incorporated in the drawing, I would have liked to make more fun little things here and there (which I'll save for future drawings) and the colors, well, let's just say I can smell them now. I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore ;V; so sorry in advance </3. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND SUPPORT!!! Although this is a challenging project, I'm VERY happy to see myself improving little by little, and your encouragement helps me push through ANYTHING!! I'll do my best again in the next one!! 💕💕

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be included too!) @dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes @ginnymilling @sunshinesdaydream @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @moon-wrecked @idontgetanysleep @tech-aficionado @followthepurrgil @renton6echo @queenjiru @shoe-bag

#star wars #clone wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #tbb echo #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #echo tbb #the dad batch #the beach batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch fanart #tbb fanart #my art

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empress-simps · 2 months

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Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

#sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #soulmate au #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter #angst with a happy ending #sirius orion black #regulus black

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mondaymelon · 10 months

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— 𝗵𝗶𝘀. ♥

໒꒱ || :feat~ diluc, venti, xiao, abyss!aether x gn!reader ໒꒱ || cw: this wasn't supposed to be yandere... but it morphed into one. (WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE SOFT XIAO AND EVERYTHING... mb) ໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @solxima

⤷ how they make you theirs. ♥

A heart-shaped box of chocolates and a fresh bouquet of red roses? There's no doubt it's DILUC who's left them on your doorstep.

It's not uncommon for the stoic man to find it difficult to express his emotions... and often, the redhead feels as if you aren't aware of how much he adores you.

Ah, but then again... his affection for you is much more intense than he'd like to admit, so perhaps it's for the better that you remain unaware.

That said, it can't hurt to leave a couple of gifts for you, right? Presents are a thing that are meant to make one happy, and whenever you're happy, so is he. Anything from sweets to flowers, possibly even a handful of jewels or a pendant... leaving them for you is the least he can do to make sure you know how loved you are.

Or perhaps... "love" isn't exactly the suitable word to describe the expanse of emotions he experiences whenever he sees you... after all, how could a mere four letters explain such a feeling that seemed to consume him, devour him whole?

But that aside, if you happen to confront him about the matter, softly thanking him with a faint tint to your cheeks... be careful, he might not be able to hold back his feelings any longer! As soon as you excuse yourself, Diluc mutters into the air, one gloved hand tentatively covering his mouth, his face flushed beyond belief.

"Ah, next time, should I gift you the severed hand of anyone who dares touch what is mine?" ♥

What should've been just one drink with VENTI has turned to two, to three, to...

It's almost laughable, how the drunken bard has practically attached himself to your arm, clinging to you what seems to be rather loosely - yet the moment you try to weasel out of his grasp, his arms tighten around yours.

You can see by his dazed expression and the way a drunken flush has descended across his face that he's far from sober... and you're quite sure that you aren't better off yourself. Sensing his gaze, you turn as the male begins to speak, his words hopelessly slurred together.

"Hey hey, why do you keep trying to... escape...?" He pouts as he leans closer to you, pressing his face against your arm. "I...I'm not that unbearable, am I?"

"Eh? No... it's just a little hot in here... and you're too close. Back up a bit, would you?"

"Don't wanna." Did he usually act like this, or was his current state just making him all the more clingy? You supposed it didn't really matter, but the room did seem quite warm, especially with how Venti's heat mixed with yours... oh, were you blushing? Was that what it was?

Perhaps that would explain the way there's this odd thumping in your ears... is that your heart's own rhythm? Ah, no, it must just be the alcohol taking its toll.

"Hehe," Venti's voice somehow rings crystal clear amidst your foggy senses. "You're quite cute when you're like this, you know~" Since when had you leaned into his arms? He speaks some more, but his next words are barely heard by your ears:

"It makes me want to lock you up so that only I will be able to lay eyes on you... a beautiful dove that is mine." ♥

There was something about you that seemed to draw XIAO in, a something that seemed to enrapture him.

And that fact, in and of itself, frustrated him. To feel so attached to something as fleeting as a mortal? Mortals, whose life could be vanquished like one blowing out a candle?

Ah, perhaps "frustrated" wasn't quite the word for it. After all, an angered someone wouldn't monitor your every move, would they? ...But he's doing this for your own good - at least, that's what he tells himself. Humans are fragile, more than anything, so he'll take the matter of your life into his hands and make sure you won't ever get hurt! He's truly being the benevolent adeptus, isn't he?

Oh, but now you seem worried, all of a sudden. You're trembling in his arms, weakly telling him about how you can always feel someone's gaze on you - how you're scared, how you... need him?

Fuck, he can't control the twisted smile that makes its way onto his face. You've admitted it, haven't you? You can't live without him.

And that's exactly what he wants.

To be beside you every waking second, to own your gaze, to own you... yes, he needs you as much as you need him.

As you curl up in his arms, basking in his quiet warmth as you slowly drift into sleep, his voice emits the quietest whispers.

"Don't worry, love. As long as I'm here, you won't ever need to worry about anyone. Your gaze, your attention... it's all mine." ♥

He had already traveled these lands once, and AETHER's once vibrant world had grown gray... except...

Oh, but then you appeared. An anomaly, but a welcome one nonetheless.

Yes, you were something stunning.

In this dead realm, you were alive. Alive in the way you looked at him and alive in the way your eyes seemed to light up at the sight of him. It's something that starts off small - that is, his feelings for you. For the time being, delightfully innocent. Yet those emotions would only begin to swallow him whole, to consume him, bind him into a pit of no escape.

When had these affections grown so dire?

Perhaps he had merely turned a blind eye. He is well aware of how his heart longs for you, how his mind has grown clouded with nothing but thoughts of you, how he wants you to be his, and his only... ah, but was that truly such a selfish thing to hope for? Surely not. After all, in such a place he resided in - where all would heed to his beck and call... surely he could have you, right?

"My prince, is something wrong? You've been acting distant all morning." You trail after him as he attends to his work, eyes full of concern.

He turns, slowly. "Why are you so hesitant to call me by my name?"

"Oh, but I could never..." You shake your head at the thought.

His eyes narrow as he takes two swift steps forward, grabbing your chin in his hand and forcing it upwards. "Then take it as an order. Say my name."

"...Aether."

It sounds so perfect on your tongue.

"Ah, that's it. Let my name grace your lips, and don't you dare let it go. After all, and I'll make sure of it... You're mine." ♥

(a/n) boo bitches im back <;33

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totaly-obsessed · 3 months

Text

Cupid

Lia Wälti x reader

-> Valentine's Day with Lia and your Daughter

-> thank you @babsisbakery for the poem, and thank you @alotofpockets for the dutch translation help and conversation

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Small hands tugged at your ear, ripping you from your very much-needed sleep. Once you saw your daughter’s adorable little eyes and the excited smile on her lips you just couldn’t be mad anymore.

“Mama, we need to start!” In a whisper shout, she bounced up and down, ready to get the day going.

She was right – you did need to start. Together with Amelie, you had planned to treat your fiancée to a wonderful Wednesday. It was Valentine's Day after all.

Still groggy with sleep you let the small blonde pull you out of bed before she gave you a moment to gather yourself, as she handed you slippers that matched hers.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Amelie had already laid out her little apron and quickly pulled it over her pajamas before turning around, gesturing to you to bind it behind her.

“All done my love. Let’s start with the waffles huh?”

Just 20 minutes later a hearty and big breakfast was cooked up, and Amelie nervously grabbed the card you had crafted with her beforehand.

“What if she doesn’t like it, Mama?”

Crouching down in front of the five-year-old got harder the older you got – but never in a million years would you stop doing it.

“That’s impossible my love! Lia loves everything that you make for her. She keeps it in her cubby – you’ve seen it before!”

Technically Ames was only your daughter – but with a no-show father and Lia falling in love with both you and your little companion at first sight, she was her ‘Momie’ in every way the small blonde could wish for.

While Lia had no genetic input whatsoever – Amelia could be and look a lot like her. They had the same kind of smile and funny laugh, but their stare could be terrifying.

“You come with me?”

How could you say no to that face? So together you walked up the stairs, and the once excited five-year-old had turned into a nervous wreck, hiding behind your legs and making herself as heavy as she could.

With a quiet squeak, the door opened as you pushed it, giving your daughter a slight nudge towards the bed, where you could already see Lia trying to spy through her lashes giving it her best to hide a smile.

“Momie?” the pudgy hand that wasn’t holding the card nudged your fiancée – who continued to play dead to the world.

“Momie – wake up please!”

Like in a bad movie Lia suddenly sat up with a big smile, stretching her arms wide with an obviously fake yawn.

“Good Morning Mon petit amour!”

Amelie panicked, or rather froze on the spot – immediately turning to you with wide eyes and Lia just knew that she would flee if nothing happened.

“What do you have there my love?”

A hesitant step towards the bed and the small blonde was close enough for her Momie to grab her. The loud squeal of surprise that filled the room was miles better than the nervous shuffle of feet.

“Wrote it just for you Momie!”

With an exaggerated gasp, the brunette footballer opened the pink envelope to discover a handcrafted card. It was white and on it a big heart, that you had to draw because a certain someone wasn’t happy with her tries and had about five meltdowns because of it. It was filled with little folded-up papers in pink and purple – above the heart she had made you write “I love you to pieces” after you had tried to help with her writing.

On those little papers were reasons why you and Ames loved the Swiss, but if it came to your opinion, there weren’t enough notes in the world that could do the love you held for the woman justice.

“Oh, will you read it to me?” Lia had tears in her eyes once she saw the small poem in wriggly handwriting. She pulled your daughter to her chest, looking at the card together while you snapped some secret pictures. “I’ll help you read them, okay?”

“To Momie,

From many tantrums to always making me laugh,

You are my favorite hero, kicking ass on the pitch

And being my personal chef at home,

And finding time to play with me and my Dinos.

I couldn’t have wished for a better mom.

- Your Ames!”

Lia’s eyes were filled with tears as she pressed kiss after kiss on Amelia's messy hair. Of course, the Swiss knew that you had massively helped her with writing, but Amelia had such a way of speaking that she could definitely recognize it in there.

The five-year-old was proud of herself and whipped her head back from Lia behind you.

“Breakfast now! Come Momie – I made you waffles!”

Due to the rain last week, the fixture against the London City Lioness has been pushed to today. So after spending the day in blissful peace, it was time to go to the game. Wrangling a little excited 5-year-old girl dressed as Cupid into the car was much harder than anticipated, and at some point, Lia had to leave early.

Viv greeted you at the car as you helped Amelie out of the car. She was still a little unsure about her knee, so she opted to sit in the stands, keeping you company. “Wow – Look at you!”

“Vivi! I’m Cupid!”

Dressed in a pink and gold dress, white gloves, and a golden hairband. On her back was a pair of small, white, feathery wings – in her hands a tiny bow with fake arrows that had heart-shaped tips.

“I can see that lieve schat. Let’s get you two inside huh?”

Watching the game with a young child is always a bit different than it would be without – but you wouldn’t change it for the world. Amelia was excited for the first half, screaming her little lungs out when Lia scored from a corner kick off of Katie.

As a celebration, the Swiss imitated pulling back the string of an arrow and letting it go in your direction – effectively sending you a heart accompanied with a wink.

Your relationship was no secret by far, the brunette loved to brag about you and her daughter. And no matter how much she boasted about you, you would always blush – so seeing your already red face on the big screen gave you a fright. Viv and Ames just laughed at you.

During the second half, Amelia was busy reading a book she had brought for her. While she had gotten Lia’s athleticism she had gotten your intense love for books, and once she started, she wouldn’t stop until it was finished. Or at least she wouldn’t stop that easily.

Once the final whistle blew, the Arsenal girls winning 3-0, Viv escorted you down to the pitch – you not knowing the way was her excuse but in reality, she just wanted to see Beth. As soon as Amelia’s feet hit the grass, she was gone running around with Kyra, Alessia, and Victoria.

“Did you see my goal? Scored it just for you!” Lia’s smile was enticing and she didn’t wait long to pull you into a breathtaking kiss, only stopping once Katie fake gagged next to you.

Before she could say what she wanted to a small body slammed into her. Amelia, of course. In her hand, a beautiful white rose that you definitely didn’t bring from home.

“For me? Oh, thank you my personal Cupid, doing such a good job!”

Now down on her knees, the brunette engulfed your daughter in a bear hug – careful not to crush the cupid wings on her back.

“It’s from Rue Rue!”

The five-year-old skipped back to Ruesha Littlejohn who gave her a high five and a piece of candy while Katie could only stare at the rose in her hands. Not even noticing you and Lia nearly collapsing because of laughter.

Cupid had delivered her a rose from Rue Rue, her ex-girlfriend…

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #katie mccabe x reader #lia walti x reader #lia wälti x reader #lia wälti #lia walti

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iamasimperyk · 3 months

Text

Lonely -Rafe Cameron

Summery: Rafe finds you, a Pogue, crying at the beach.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Crying, Not proof-read, English is not my first language

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Part 2

Why was everyone around you in a relationship? It wasn't like you were desperate to get a boyfriend, but somehow it made you feel insecure that you didn't have one. You started to wonder why no one wanted you. Was it because you were ugly? Was it because you weren't someone who liked to go out and party? Or was it because you were too inexperienced?

You didn't want to bother any of your friends with your thoughts, and it wasn't like you had a chance to do so. Since all of them were in a relationship now, no one has time for you anymore. And that's how you found yourself crying on the beach on a Saturday night, alone.

You loved the beach and sometimes you also liked to be alone. From time to time you needed to think things through and just needed some alone time, but right now, you just wished for someone to hug you. You felt lonley and the fact that your friends and every other person on the island would be at a party right now, didn’t make things better.

Pogues and Kooks together at the Bonefire never ended good, so it was the perfect excuse not to go. At least that‘s what you told your friends. They didn‘t even question it, to busy being all lovey dovey in their relationships.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about your friends. You were happy for them, but somehow you longed to feel the rush of a relationship too. You wanted to be kissed, held, and loved.

The fact that you were a little jealous of them made you even more upset. A good friend shouldn’t be jealous, but happy.

You were deep in your thoughts when a voice suddenly pulled you out of them, “Ey!”

You turned around, quickly wiping away your tears.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The one and only Rafe Cameron were walking towards you. The last time you had seen him was on the ship, where he nearly shot you.

“Oh, look who it is.” He gave you one of his famous smirks, now standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” You mumbled, not even looking at him.

Rafe caused nothing but trouble the last few months. He was the reason why the Pogues and you lost the gold. He was the reason why the Pogues and you lost the Cross. He was the reason why John B and Sarah had been missing.

“Could ask you the same question. Never saw you without your little friends.” He chuckled, sitting down next to you.

“Well, I didn’t want to attend the Bonefire, but they did.” You shrugged, looking at the sunset in front of you.

“Didn’t want to go either, too old for the shit I guess,” He sighed to which you let out a humourless laugh, “Rafe Cameron is too old to get wasted? Yeah, great joke.”

“Believe what you want, I don’t care, but at least I am not the one sitting here because my friends don’t have time for me anymore.” He hissed.

It wasn’t wrong what he said, but how did he know?

After he saw the look of confusion in your face he spoke up again, “It’s obvious that they don’t have time for you anymore. They are all dating now and you are the only single one.”

Once again, tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. "Are you observing my friend group, Cameron?"

He answered without any emotion, "Do I look like someone who cares about your friend group? It's obvious you're trying too hard to get their attention."

Why didn't your friends see your efforts when even Rafe Cameron did?

“But lucky for you, out of your little group of Pogues, I tolerate you the most," He said after a few seconds.

“Hard to believe since you wanted to kill me a few months ago.” You muttered, drawing little shapes into the sand.

“Oh, come on. I didn’t want to kill you, I just had to get back what belonged to me. The cross,” He started to explain himself, “But it doesn’t matter since I am a new person now.”

“I see, and why’s that?” You raised your eyebrows.

“My dad isn’t here anymore so I am the boss now.” He told you proudly.

“And you cut your hair.” You mumbled quietly, but he heard you regardless, “Looks more mature.”

You nod, “I like it.”

“Did Y/n Y/l/n just complimented my hair?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Why are you really here, Rafe? You saw that it was me sitting here. Why would you come anyway?”

"I left the Bonfire because it was shit, and as I was walking towards my car, I heard someone sobbing. At the Bonefire I saw your friends with my sister, but I couldn't see you. When I saw you sitting here, I knew that something was wrong," he confessed while scratching his buzzed head.

“I appreciate that you came down to talk to me, Rafe, I really do.” You smile a little at him.

It's hard to believe that someone actually came to look after you. Not just anyone, but someone who was supposed to hate you. This person had made your life a living hell for the past few months. Despite this, the last half hour has been the best you have had in a long time.

“Look I am not good with all this emotional shit, but you wanna tell me why you were crying?” He asked carefully.

“Promise me not use it against me?” You asked in the most innocent voice Rafe has ever heard.

He answered with a short ‘promise’ before you started to explain how left out you have felt the past few weeks.

As you finished explaining, tears streamed down your face while Rafe held you tightly.

“Thanks for listing, Rafe. I am sorry I ruined your night,” You wiped away your tears, your eyes puffy from all the crying.

“You haven’t ruined my night, Y/n, actually you made it a lot better. I would probably have stayed at home all alone, trying to drown my thoughts in whiskey.” He told you honestly.

"Better than listening to me whine about my friend's relationships," you said as you hiccuped.

He shook his head, "At least you feel better after telling someone your problems, and I got to hold you."

You smile up at him, “You are happy to hold me? A Pogue?”

He chucked lightly, “Who would have thought.”

“Well, I also didn’t imagine myself at the beach, lying in the arms of a Kook.” After those words left your mouth there was silence.

The two of you were staring at each other until Rafe leaned down. You closed your eyes, your lips were nearly touching when someone called out your name.

“Y/n, is that you?”

#Rafe #Rafe Cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe obx #obx #fluff #pogue #rafe fanfiction #outerbanks rafe

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golden-cherry · 4 months

Text

deal - cl16 (21/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The truth comes under purple skies.

Warnings: angst, but mostly tooth rotting fluff because you deserve it

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: a little late happy birthday to me! sorry for the wait. I love you.

Although you keep your eyes closed, you know that it is still dark outside.

The air in the room is cool against your face, while your tired body is kept comfortably warm under the heavy comforter. It is just as warm against the free, uncovered parts of your body as Charles' soft skin.

His arm is wrapped around your middle, his fingers are tightly intertwined with yours and his thumb strokes gentle circles over your hand. A tender, loving gesture that you're not sure whether it's meant to calm your nerves or his own.

You haven't changed your positions in bed since you fell asleep pressed tightly together a few hours ago. Charles's chest is still pressed against your back and if you were to focus on it, you could certainly feel his heart beating hard and steady. But you don't. Your thoughts revolve around breathing as normally as possible so that it still looks like you're asleep.

You don't want to be awake.

Being awake would involve thinking, and you definitely don't want to think about the last few days. You don't want to think about how Charles told you that you would jump into bed with Lando at the next opportunity. You don't want to think about Raphael coming to your front door last night and calling you a whore. And you don't want to be reminded that Charles jumped to your side and defended you without so much as batting an eye.

All you want right now is to lie here, in his strong arms, wrapped in his scent and warmth. Deep down, you know you can't be angry with him. Lando's words flit through your head again and again about how you both want to protect each other, and even though you've only known each other for a few days, you can tell Charles so well that it's exactly this part of him that makes him who he is.

But you still don't know why he treated you like that.

You breathe in deeply, take in his scent - a mixture of sandalwood, peppermint and a smell that you can only describe as Charles - and press your face into the soft pillow. Although you had been furious with him, you had missed his closeness over the last few days.

The thumb that has been tenderly drawing figures on your hand pauses.

"I'm sorry." Charles' voice is little more than a whisper against your shoulder blade. As his warm breath brushes over you, your muscles tighten. "No apology in this world can make up for what I did to you. I betrayed your trust, hurt you, and left you thinking I didn't care about you." When you don't answer him, he continues. "I am so incredibly sorry. And I won't ask for your forgiveness or kindness, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you."

Your heart beats so fast against your ribcage that you fear it will break your bones and jump out of your chest. His touch feels like your skin is burning. When you open your eyes, you see purple clouds in the morning sky through the window.

Carefully, you turn in his arms, whereupon his embrace loosens a little, but his arm remains on your hip. His eyes are closed, as if he doesn't dare to look into your face. His eyebrows are furrowed and there are a few wrinkles between them that you would love to smooth out with your fingers.

You decide to run your fingers over his bare shoulders. His muscles twitch under your fingertips. "Why did you do it?" Charles remains silent, so you tentatively place your hand against his cheek. You feel his stubble scratch your skin as he exhales deeply, as if he hasn't taken a decent breath in a long time.

He opens his eyes and there is an anxious gleam in the otherwise beautiful green. His gaze searches yours as he nuzzles his face against your hand. "I was jealous."

Jealous?

A small glimmer of hope flares up inside you. Maybe everything you've experienced together - the viewpoint, your movie night, the bookstore, the tiramisu - is based on something other than friendship. On something more. Maybe there was more to every conversation, every look and every smile than just the friendship you nailed down to protect your heart. Maybe you were just talking past each other the whole time. Maybe –

"I was jealous of how well you got on with Lando. I thought that if you got to know each other better and became more than just friends, then we wouldn't be friends anymore. I thought -" He pauses for a moment. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you because of your relationship."

You try to suppress the punch in the pit of your stomach and swallow the frog in your throat. "You hurt me and pushed me away because you didn't want to get hurt yourself?" Your heart breaks a little for him. You finally smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your thumb. His arm wraps around you tighter and presses you together. His fingers stroke your back and goose bumps spread across your body.

That's exactly what Lando said. That Charles pushes the people he cares about away to protect himself. Something you can well understand, after all, you were planning to do the same to him. Only not so drastically.

But Lando also told you something else about the Monegasque. "But that's not all, is it?" An image flickers in your mind's eye of Raphael holding out his hand to introduce himself to Charles. "You didn't just want to protect yourself. Or am I wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

As you say his name, a shiver jerks through his body, as if he's suddenly cold, and his hand freezes against your spine. "You're not." His tone is cooler, more distant than it was a few moments ago, and the tension in the room is palpable despite the purple clouds and morning calm as you place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating fast and strong.

"I - I think we both rushed into this friendship far too quickly." You try to put as much warmth into your whisper as you can, even though deep down your heart has caught quite a tear. "We've known each other for five days. And so much has happened in that time that takes some friends years. Our trust in each other went from zero to one hundred." You run your finger over his collarbone, your gaze following him.

Panting, he sucks air into his lungs at your touch. "What do you suggest?"

You purse your lips. "Maybe - maybe we should get to know each other better first. Get to know each other properly so that this doesn't happen again. So that our living together is easier."

Charles tightens his grip around your middle, his legs tangle with yours. "Living together? Does that mean you're staying with me?"

You nod slightly, but grab your arm with your hand to pull away from him. Something flits across his face, but as quickly as it came, it's gone again as you place his hand between your faces on the pillows. "But maybe a little distance will do us good. So we don't mess this up."

His fingers interlace with yours. "I'll do everything I can to make this work."

"That makes two of us," you smile, missing his touch on your body. You miss the warmth pulsing through your veins under your skin. But it's the right thing to do. At least that's what you try to tell yourself. You take a deep breath. "I - I'm unemployed, by the way." You look down at your hands. "I was fired from this magazine before we met. I'm looking for a new job so that I can continue to live in Monaco, because my savings won't last forever. That's why I'm so grateful to you for standing up for me with Joris. About the rent. I can't thank you enough for that."

"But you don't have to," he replies quietly. "Friends help each other. They're there for each other. I can understand why you didn't tell me. Nobody likes to talk about the fact that they've recently lost their job."

"Thank you," you whisper back. You feel a weight fall from your shoulders. You suddenly find it easier to breathe. But now it's something else that's plaguing your thoughts.

And no one but Charles can give you the answer. "Can you please explain to me what happened yesterday? With - with Raphael?"

The Monegasque briefly lets go of your hand so that he can play with your fingers. He doesn't look at you. "Do you remember the night we watched Cars together?"

You nod. How could you forget that night? The wine, the movie, the flirting that apparently wasn't flirting. Ouch.

"We talked about Formula One and how you used to watch it with your grandfather when Michael Schuhmacher drove for Ferrari." His gaze is literally glued to your fingers. "When we first met, I told you that my work had something to do with cars, and I wasn't lying."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. If he's a mechanic or engineer for one of the racing teams, that woiuld explain why he has to travel so much for work. "Is that where all the cool photos on your phone come from? Because you fly across the globe with Formula 1 to work on the cars?"

Your flatmate purses his lips. "I don't work on the cars. I - I drive them." He licks his lips once. "I'm a Formula One driver for Scuderia Ferrari."

"Don't fuck with me," you reply, wanting to pull your fingers out of his grasp. But he holds on to them and when he lifts his gaze and looks you in the eyes, you know he's telling the truth. And his confession makes you see the last few days from a different perspective.

The conversation between Charles and Joris, shortly after he suddenly appeared in the apartment, pops up in your mind. "When we met, that night - you were on the phone with Joris. You said something about headlines."

He nods slightly. "A few weeks ago, the season ended and Annika and I broke up. I stayed away from here as long as I could because I didn't want to be confronted with it. And when I got to my apartment for emergencies, there you were. With a valid tenancy agreement. I couldn't just throw you out the door. You could have gone public and then it would have made the headlines. Something like "Charles Leclerc throws poor woman out of rented apartment". It was a risk I couldn't take." He furrows his eyebrows again, but this time you hold back.

"You have a nutritionist."

Again he nods. "For the races, I have to follow a strict diet to make the car go faster. Unfortunately, pasta and thick sandwiches aren't part of it, so please don't tell him."

Fragments of the last few days appear one after the other in your mind's eye, which you try to sort out and work through. "The bistro you went to after the bookshop had already closed, hadn't it?"

"Yes. But when do you ever have a Formula One driver on your doorstep who needs two sandwiches?" He shrugs. "One photo and we've had our dinner."

You lick your tongue over your lips and you don't miss the way Charles' eyes twitch to your mouth. "We went everywhere in my car. Why?"

"You've seen my car." He's referring to the fancy Ferrari in the parking garage. "With its stripes, it's not exactly inconspicuous. Especially since everyone knows the car is mine." He runs his thumb over the side of your index finger. "As soon as the car rolls down the street, everyone knows it's me. And everyone takes photos of it. I couldn't risk you getting caught up in all this because of a stupid car. And especially not because you couldn't choose it until now. Your sweet tin can was the only way we could get around the city together without attracting attention."

You clench your jaw. "The meetings in Italy. What about it?"

"The headquarters are there, in Maranello. Before the winter break, the team wanted to get together again and discuss what went wrong this season and what we can improve."

"And you could just leave like that?" you ask him.

He shakes his head. "Not really. But in my opinion, there wasn't much to talk about either. The season was a throwaway." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was actually a little relieved when Lando called and asked me to go home."

So you were right. The Brit did call Charles. "And what did he say?"

"Exactly what I needed to hear." He smiles slightly. "He threw a lot of swear words at me and made it clear that I'd be the stupidest idiot in the world if I screwed up this friendship."

You don't know what to do with this information. The fact that Lando called Charles and made a slug out of him doesn't bother you much, because the Monegasque needed the push. But there's also something about the fact that Charles didn't come up with the idea of straightening things out himself. That one of his friends had to step in for you first so that he would get off his butt and stand up for this friendship. That Lando -

"What about Lando? And Pierre? And Kika? Are they part of Formula One too?"

Charles purses his lips into a thin line. "Lando and Pierre are also drivers. Kika is a model."

Bile rises in your gullet as you release your hand from his and turn onto your back, closing your eyes. Everyone knew, they even work in the same field, and no one thought to let you in on it. The whole thing could have gone down the drain. People could have recognized you both, taken photos of you and spread the word.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I -" Charles exhales. "I was just scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"My job - my name - brings a lot with it. A lot of good things, like seeing the world, getting to know cultures and not having to worry about things like money. But there are also negative things, like a lot of pressure, fake friends, no privacy." He also turns onto his back. "I don't want you to choose something you don't want because of my name. I thought - I thought if we stayed in our little bubble, our little world, that - I don't know. It was just nice to have someone as a friend who wanted to be friends with me because I'm Charles. And not because I'm Charles Leclerc."

You have to smile. "Actually, I'm only friends with you so that I can live with you and save on rent."

"Haha."

You clasp your hands behind your head. "I can understand, I think. That you have to be careful who you surround yourself with. And that there are a lot of people who only use you because you're you. It sounds very lonely."

Charles snorts softly. "It can definitely be lonely."

"Then let me assure you that I don't want to be friends with you because of your money or your name."

"But?"

"Do you really need reasons?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt my ego," you can practically hear his grin.

"All right," you reply. "I want to be friends with you because you're kind and considerate of your friends' feelings. Because you trusted me with your favorite place, even though you didn't know me. Because you introduced me to your friends because you thought it was inevitable anyway if our friendship strengthened." You take a deep breath and exhale. "I want to be friends with you because you're funny and make me laugh. Because you have a big heart. Because -"

A feeling bubbles up inside you. You've felt it before - the day after your movie night, when you were reviewing the evening. In the not entirely innocent dream you had about Charles. And when you shared the bed after the bookshop.

It's warm, like a warm blanket, strong like a good hug and bright like Charles' eyes when the sun shines on his face. Charles is not just your roommate. Or your friend. Charles is so much more. Charles is your home.

Before you can complete the sentence, the Monegasque interrupts you. "That's good. That's good enough for me, thank you." He smiles. "It's nice to have you as a friend. Even if I don't deserve it, the way I've treated you."

"Mm-hmm."

"Maybe you should sleep on it one more night and then decide if you really want it. There's so much more that comes with a friendship with me." When you yawn, he has to laugh. "You see? Maybe you're not even able to think straight right now. And then I push you into a friendship that you don't even want."

"I'm sure," you reply tiredly and you notice how your eyes get heavier.

"But -"

Before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his hand and interlace his fingers with yours. You try to ignore the fact that this makes your heart beat faster. "I'm sure of it. Believe me."

When you gently squeeze his fingers twice, he replies with the same gesture. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have to find out," you smile and as you yawn again, Charles pulls you closer to him. Like a magnet, you slide across the bed towards him, unable to resist as your face finds its place against the crook of his neck.

He lets go of your hand, but only to wrap his arm around you. His hand rests on the bare skin of your hip, while his other hand pulls your leg over him so that you're half lying on top of him. You are enveloped by him, fully and completely, and as you place your hand on his bare chest, you feel his heartbeat under your fingertips.

You try to convince yourself that it's not beating for you, but as you snuggle even closer to him and your lips touch the soft skin on his neck, you feel it skip a beat. But maybe you're just imagining it.

"I'll be better from now on," he whispers and tentatively presses a kiss to your forehead. Goosebumps spread all over your body, but not because you're cold like he thinks, which is why his arm presses you even tighter against him. "I don't want there to be another moment when you doubt how important you are to me, mon amour."

"You can teach me a little French," you reply. "Then you can hide less from me if I speak your mother tongue too," you joke.

Charles feels your smile on his neck and he is glad that you can't see the blush on his face.

"Anything you want. I'll go to the other side of the world for you if I have to."

"But not until tomorrow, all right?" You gently caress his chest with your fingertips and Charles draws in a sharp breath. "Now it's time to sleep. And don't you dare steal my blanket in the night."

Charles would love to pull you on top of him, kiss you and promise you that you're safe with him and that he won't let anything happen to you. But he holds back, just lets his fingers dance over your skin.

He promises in the purple morning light. "Deal."

next part

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devildomwriter · 1 month

Text

A Devildom Easter Egg Extravaganza

Diavolo decides to hold an Easter egg hunt. Shenanigans ensue.

Slight x reader for Lucifer, Diavolo, Mephistopheles, Barbatos

[Student Council Room]

Lucifer: “You really mean to hold…an Easter egg hunt?”

Diavolo: “Why, yes! I think it will be great fun!”

Mephistopheles: “My Lord, everything you do is brilliant!”

Diavolo: “Thank you!”

Mephistopheles: “However…this holiday is in celebration of everything we are against…as is Christmas for that matter but that’s become popular here recently…”

Diavolo: *nodding* “Yes. I understand that these holidays traditionally represent and celebrate our opposites. So celebrating them not only promotes goodwill with the angels and religious exchange students but also draws attention away from its original purpose.”

Lucifer: “I see, so that’s your angle.”

Mephistopheles: “Am I missing something?”

Lucifer: “We are celebrating and promoting the secular traditions instead. Celebrating bunnies, eggs, and candy rather than my father and father-brother.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha.”

Mephistopheles: “Father-brother?”

Lucifer: “We’re done discussing this.”

Diavolo: “Anyway. I think it would be great fun to hide eggs all around RAD for the exchange students and any willing RAD students to join in. I understand it may not be especially popular with demons but I do want to incorporate holidays important to others too. It is vital to accept and learn about each other’s cultures and traditions to better respect and understand each other.”

Barbatos: “Well said, my lord.”

Mephistopheles: “In that case, I’d be more than happy to promote this in the newspaper! Leave it to me.”

Diavolo: “Thank you, Mephistopheles. I knew I could count on you!”

[Purgatory Hall]

Luke: “A what?”

Solomon: “An Easter egg hunt.”

Raphael: “We’ll be busy.”

MC: “Oh, really…”

Simeon: “Yes, we must celebrate our father-brother, after all.”

MC: “That’s such a weird way to say Jesus.”

Raphael: “Those are the only words in your language to accurately describe him.”

MC: “Right. Will you really be in the celestial realm all day though?”

Simeon: “Umm well…”

Raphael: *glaring* “We should be.”

Luke: “…”

Solomon: “You’re going to make Luke sad.”

Luke: “Wh! Hey!”

Raphael: “Luke has no reason to be sad.”

MC: “C’mon Raph, you can’t make a kid miss an Easter egg hunt. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Raphael: “That’s an inaccurate description of cruel and unusual punishment.”

MC: “But it’s true though.”

Raphael: *sigh* “I suppose we can come back after service and the banquet.”

Simeon: “Wonderful!”

Luke: “Yay! Sir Raphael, you’re the best!”

MC: “Okay, the angels are in. Let’s go tell Thirteen.”

Solomon: “I believe Diavolo already has.”

MC: “Really?”

Solomon: “Yes. He said something about some eggs containing special surprises.”

Raphael: “I have a bad feeling about this…”

[Lucifer’s Private Study]

Lucifer: “I have a headache already.”

Solomon: “Hahahaha!”

MC: “So he’s really having her rig the eggs?”

Lucifer: “Many of them yes. I fear she’s taking it overboard, hoping Solomon will find them all.”

Solomon: “How thoughtful.”

Lucifer: “How can you be wise and yet so oblivious, honestly?”

Solomon: “It just shows she’s thinking of me. She really is a good friend.”

MC: “You may need better friends.”

Lucifer: “Considering most of them want to kill you, I’d have to agree.”

Solomon: “Most? I wouldn’t say that most of them do.”

MC: “Even some of them is an issue…”

Solomon: “Well, regardless I think this hunt will be fun. You’ll be participating yes?”

MC: “I already asked if I could hide them instead.”

Solomon: “You’d like to hide them? Not find them?”

MC: “I used to hide them for the neighborhood kids. They’d still turn up years later.”

Solomon: “Don’t you suppose that’s too good at hiding them?”

MC: “You can never be too good at something unless it’s illegal.”

Solomon: “I…suppose that’s true.”

Lucifer: “That is a flawed argument and the fact you think that makes my headache worse, please leave Solomon.”

Solomon: “Only me?”

Lucifer: “That’s what I said.”

Solomon: “Wow, so cruel, Lucifer. I suppose I’ll see you this weekend.”

Lucifer: “Yes, goodbye now.”

MC: “Soooo…what’d you want to talk about?”

Lucifer: “Nothing, I just wanted him to leave and your company soothes me.”

MC: “I thought I was giving you a headache?”

Lucifer: “You do, but it’s nothing compared to Mammon.”

MC: “That’s fair.”

MC: “So are you going to compete?”

Lucifer: “Finding the eggs?”

MC: “Yeah.”

Lucifer: *smirks* “Will I get a reward if I do?”

MC: “Hmm…maybe?”

Lucifer: “I see…then I suppose I will.”

MC: “Yes! This going to be so much fun!” *hugs*

Lucifer: *blushes* “Only you could make me so excited about this holiday.”

[The Day Before Easter | RAD]

Diavolo: “Oh, MC! I can’t tell you how excited I am to be hiding these with you!”

MC: “About that…don’t you want to participate?”

Diavolo: “I think preparing it is just as exciting! Besides, there will be some places by Barbatos too and I won’t know where those are.”

MC: “So, you’ll be looking for the ones he hid?”

Diavolo: “Yes, as I oversee everything.”

MC: “Good, I love to see you have fun!”

Diavolo: “I feel the same way. Hopefully, you’ll do a bit of searching too?”

MC: “Sure, I’ll walk with you and we’ll see who finds them first.”

Diavolo: “A competition? How fun! I can hardly wait.”

Barbatos: “Young master, here are the baskets.”

MC: “That’s…a lot of eggs.”

Diavolo: “Yes, this may take us all night, I’m so excited.”

Barbatos: “MC, be careful not to trigger the traps.”

MC: “How would I know?”

Barbatos: “They’re in separate baskets, just handle them more delicately and take care they don’t open up, even the slightest bit.”

MC: “Right…”

Diavolo: “Oh my, look how this own sparkles, MC, isn’t it just—“

MC: “Where’d he go!?”

Barbatos: “And I just warned him too…”

MC: “Okay, but where did he go?”

In the distance, you hear roaring laughter and look to see a light on in RAD.

MC: “I found him.”

Barbatos: *sigh* “I suppose I should supervise this shouldn’t I?”

MC: “It’ll be okay, I’ll protect him.”

Barbatos: “Ever so reliable, MC. It’s what I love most about you.”

MC: *blushing* “G-Glad you feel that way.”

A small explosion sounds from inside.

MC: “He’s…not being careful. At all.”

Barbatos: “Good luck.”

MC: “What’ve I done?”

[A Few Hours Later]

Diavolo sits next to you on the RAD lawn covered in pink and yellow powder, hair spiked, and hands puffy and pink.

MC: “Sooo….”

Diavolo: “That was so much fun!”

MC: “Thirteen wasn’t happy about resetting them all though.”

Diavolo: “Yes, I did apologize.”

MC: “I think she laughed hard enough to forgive you.”

Diavolo: “Yes it was quite excessive.”

MC: “That’s rich coming from you.”

Diavolo: “Hm? What do you mean?”

MC: “If you laughed and a bomb went off at the same time, I’d hear you.”

Diavolo: “Pfft! Ahahahahaha.”

MC: “My point exactly. Anyway…Barbatos will skin me alive if you come back looking like this.”

You take his hands and whisper an incantation, lips close to his inflamed hands. The pink vanished and his hands returned to normal. Diavolo let out a sigh of relief.

Diavolo: “Thank goodness. That was quite itchy.”

MC: “Now all you need is a serious bath.”

Diavolo: “Oh, will you be giving it to me?”

MC: “Wh—“

Diavolo: “Ahahahaha! I’m only kidding.”

MC: “That’s a shame.”

Diavolo: “What?”

MC: “What?”

Diavolo: *sigh* “Why don’t we go get some rest and meet early again tomorrow before the others arrive.”

MC: “Sounds like a plan.”

Diavolo smiles and ruffles your hair. You attempt to do the same but your hand gets stuck to his gelled hair, the result of an egg surprise. You stare at him, hand stuck in his hair and he stares back at you when a familiar person clears their throat.

Thirteen: “Uh…the eggs have been reset. Am I interrupting something?”

Diavolo: “We seem to be stuck.”

Thirteen: “Hahahah! Serves you right, anyway I’m headed out.”

MC: “You’re gonna leave us here?”

Thirteen: “Yes!”

Diavolo: “I see…I suppose we should call Barbatos?”

MC: “Yeah…”

[Early the next morning | House of Lamentation]

Asmodeus: “MC! You’re finally back! Where’ve you been all night? Don’t tell me you- ooooh!”

Lucifer lightly smacks Asmodeus over the back of the head.

Asmodeus: “Ow! Lucifer you big meanie.”

Lucifer: “Don’t imply such things.”

Asmodeus: “But they were gone aaaalll night. Isn’t that right? And who were they with? The hunky—“

Lucifer: “Be quiet.”

Mammon: “What’s goin’ on down here!?”

Mammon: “Hey! MC! You’re finally back!”

Satan: “I was getting worried.”

Belphegor: “Mmhm.”

MC: “One of Thirteen’s traps went off…”

Lucifer: “I see. That explains things then.”

Asmodeus: “Boo. I was hoping for some gossip.”

Belphegor: “That’s the same thing as saying you hope Diavolo and MC hooked up.”

Mammon: “Hold on, what happened!?”

Satan: “Nothing happened, Mammon. Pay attention.”

MC: “My hand got stuck to Diavolo, that’s all.”

Beelzebub: “Stuck?”

Mammon: “Huh? Stuck where!”

MC: “His head.”

Asmodeus: “Which o—“

All: “Shut up, Asmo!”

You got a few hours of rest before your alarm went off. You already had good morning texts from the angels reminding you of the importance of the day and you smiled and sighed. You changed into your Easter outfit and put on the rabbit ear headband Diavolo insisted all participants wear.

[Easter Morning | RAD Courtyard]

Diavolo: “MC! I’m so glad you’re here!”

MC: “As promised.”

Barbatos: “Good. Participants should be showing up in a few hours and—“

Mephistopheles: “Good morning everyone.”

Diavolo: “Ah, good morning, Mephistopheles.”

Mephistopheles: “Hm? You still have baskets?”

MC: “We couldn’t finish hiding them all…there was a mishap.”

Mephistopheles: “Oh? Of what nature.”

Barbatos: “The details aren’t necessary. Why don’t you take a few pictures of the setup before we begin? See if you can spot an egg and photograph it.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. And MC.”

MC: “Hm?”

Mephistopheles: “Happy Easter?”

MC: “Aww! Thank you Mephisto, that means a lot coming from you.”

Mephistopheles: “What does that mean?”

Diavolo: “I’m so glad to see you embracing change, Mephistopheles. Very well done!”

Mephistopheles: “Naturally! One can’t help but be swayed by your genius and example, my lord.”

MC: *muttering* “Here we go.”

Barbatos: *chuckles*

After a few hours You, Diavolo, and Barbatos had finished hiding the rest of the eggs and just sat down by the sign-in booth when you heard a loud scream coming from RAD.

Barbatos: *sigh* “I told him to photograph the egg not open it.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha!”

Barbatos left swiftly to investigate and as soon as he vanished around the corner, a loud group approached the booth.

Lucifer: “We’ve arrived. I apologize if we’re late.”

Satan: “Yes, someone wouldn’t wake up.”

Belphegor: *zzz*

Asmodeus: “I can’t believe the bunny ears are staying on even though he’s slumped over Beel’s shoulder. I have to get a picture.”

Beelzebub: “Asmo…”

Asmodeus: “What? It might generate more attention for the event, right?”

Diavolo: “Wonderful idea, Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus: “Thank you!”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Mammon: “So…I heard there’d be a prize.”

Leviathan: “Two minutes, I called it.”

Asmodeus: “Tch, I really thought it’d be sooner.”

Mammon: “Huh? Are you betting on me? Without me?”

Satan: “That wouldn’t make any sense idiot.”

Lucifer: “All of you shut up and sign in.”

Leviathan: “Eep! Okay.”

The brothers signed their names. Beelzebub signed Belphegor in for him and you sat around and talked.

Mephistopheles returned with Barbatos looking very flustered and uncomfortable.

Lucifer: “What in the Devildom is that mess?”

Mephistopheles: “Thirteen.”

Lucifer: “Oh. So you set off a trap.”

Leviathan: “Does no one find it alarmingly easy to set them off? Like, didn’t even Lord Diavolo do that?”

You heard an amused chuckle from behind you.

Thirteen: “Duh. That’s what makes it fun.”

Barbatos: “Thirteen. What wonderful timing you have. Mind telling me what Mephistopheles is currently covered in?”

Thirteen: “That’s just a personal concoction of highly flammable spider web spray.”

Mephistopheles: “Of what!?”

Mammon: “Bahahaha!”

Mephistopheles: “Get it off of me this instant!”

MC: “Calm down Mephi, I got you.”

Mephistopheles: “Mephi?”

You brought forth a torrent of water to flush the web off Mephistopheles and then a gust of wind to blow him and his clothes dry.

He was left momentarily stunned before he sighed, patted himself down, and smoothed out his hair.

Barbatos turned on the bright lights around RAD to illuminate the lawn as the other students showed up. The presence of more than a few students elated Diavolo and the happy gleam in his eyes made all the trouble worth it.

Near the end of the thirteenth hour, a beam appeared from the sky. At first, everyone stumbled back in fear but as it disappeared, Simeon, Raphael, and Luke appeared in its place.

Barbatos: “I could’ve opened the portal.”

Raphael: “This was faster.”

Mammon: “Gave me a freakin’ heart attack!”

Raphael: “Why?”

Luke: “MC! I’m here!”

MC: “Hello, Luke! Your Easter uniform is so cute!”

Luke: “Huh? I’m supposed to look gentlemanly not cute!”

Simeon: “You can be both.”

Luke: “No I can’t!”

Solomon: “Good morning everyone. I’m not late am I?”

Simeon: “No. We just arrived.”

Raphael was looking around from the sign-in booth, already scanning the area for eggs as though it were a mission. It gave you chills to see his serious expression but at the same time made you laugh because this was only an Easter egg hunt.

You noticed that Lucifer was doing the same thing but he was being slightly less obvious about it, giving himself reasons to be turned in a certain direction rather than just openly staring.

Luke: “MC! Will you be on my team?”

Mammon: “What? We’re forming teams!?”

Solomon: “Are we?”

Barbatos: *shaking his head* “I suppose if you wanted to you could however anything you find would be evenly split between you and not counted as a whole.”

Satan: “Every demon for themself.”

Lucifer: “I agree.”

Satan: “I’m no longer certain.”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Diavolo: “Hahahaha!”

Belphegor: “Mm…quiet.”

Beelzebub: “Belphie, are you awake?”

Belphegor: “What…what’s on my head?”

Asmodeus: “Those are your bunny ears! And you look adorable!”

Belphegor: “Ugh. Kill me now.”

Asmodeus: “Your sleepy bunny pic has already generated so many likes!”

Belphegor: “My what?”

MC: “So how was the sermon? Is that what it was?”

Luke: *sobbing*

MC: “What’d I do?”

Simeon: “Each year, we visit the past to review the events before and during Easter and the future it will bring.”

MC: “That sounds emotionally traumatic.”

Raphael: “It is. And now we’re here. Looking for eggs…”

Mammon: “Just as father intended!”

Raphael pulls out his spear and Mammon takes off.

MC: “He deserves that right?”

Asmodeus: “Mhm.”

Lucifer: “Honestly…”

Thirteen: “He’s got some guts to piss an angel off on Easter.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. Especially when it’s about their father slash brother or something…”

MC: “Speaking of father and brother…”

You looked between Lucifer and Satan as they watched you. They looked at each other, back at you and Satan bared his fangs as his brothers and Diavolo managed to contain their laughter.

Satan: “Not another word!”

Beelzebub: “They didn’t say anything.”

Solomon: “Hahaha! I get it. Because Lucifer and Satan have the same dynamic.”

As Raphael runs past you he protests this idea and continues after Mammon who’s tripping over bushes in his escape attempt.

Diavolo: “Should we stop them?”

Simeon: “He earned it.” *scary smile*

Luke: “Simeon. You have that scary look in your eyes again.”

Simeon: “Oh, do I? My apologies.”

MC: “Anyway…it’s a good idea you came here after so Luke can recover from his trauma a little more easily.”

Luke: “It never goes away.”

Mephistopheles: “I’m not sure I like the haunted look in your eye.”

Solomon: “It’s weird when Luke is serious.”

Luke: “Hey what does that mean!? I’m always serious.”

Mephistopheles: “Good he’s back.”

Simeon: “Ah, yes. It does weigh heavily on us angels. Thank you for this event, Diavolo.”

Diavolo: “Yes, of course! Speaking of, it’s just about time to begin. Can someone go fetch Mammon and Raphael?”

Lucifer: “I’ll do it.”

Beelzebub: “I’ll go with him.”

Belphegor: “Set me down somewhere first.”

Beelzebub: “Okay.”

Belphegor is placed gently on top of a bush as Beelzebub runs after Lucifer. He begins sinking into the bush and you and the others watch as the branches begin to slowly snap and he disappears into the leaves.

As soon as Raphael and Mammon are reeled in and Mammon is forced to grovel for an apology, Diavolo is given the microphone and you, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Mephistopheles work together to hand everyone a woven basket to place their found eggs in.

Diavolo: “Everyone will have an hour to find as many eggs as possible, they are everyone beyond this booth on the RAD ground and I do mean everywhere so give it your best shot!”

Diavolo: “Many of the eggs contain wonderful surprises! Coupons for your favorite cafes, gift cards for your favorite stores, Grimm, fun tokens, cup-cuties, and more! But beware because there are also eggs that contain a wide variety of tricks of all kinds! You should expect flesh-eating piranha plants, bees, angry spiders, blasts of spider webs, teleportation, and potential small explosions!”

Luke and Mammon turned white but the demon students seemed extra excited by this news. Danger was an everyday occurrence for them and simply counted as fun or mildly inconvenient at best. As a human, you had a protection spell placed upon you in case of minor explosions. Luke and Simeon also had protective spells. Raphael opted to forgo this as he “wasn’t weak.”

With a wide smile, Diavolo raised his hand and everyone gathered into groups or faced the directions they planned to scour.

Diavolo: “On your marks!”

Diavolo: “Get ready!”

Diavolo: “Set!”

Diavolo: “GO!”

The ground shook as the hundreds of demons, three angels, reaper, and human sprinted past the booth.

You laughed and Diavolo helped you regain balance and handed you your basket.

Diavolo: “Shall we go observe?”

An explosion went off.

MC: “Yes!”

Barbatos trailed far behind you and Diavolo so you could talk more privately. You passed by students stuck to walls with spider webs. Students dressed more oddly than when they’d arrived. You passed by Mammon hanging from the ceiling and weren’t sure whether it had been Raphael, Lucifer, or a genuine trap. Either way, Diavolo burst into laughter alerting the others to your location immediately.

Barbatos cut Mammon down and you continued to walk with your empty basket as you enjoyed the sounds of chaos all around you.

Diavolo eyed your basket and nudged you gently.

Diavolo: “Is there someone you were hoping to go find eggs with?”

(To be continued | the remaining story with be different based on the character you choose to go with. They are all currently being written and will all be released in the following week unless unforeseen circumstances delay the writing)

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