#also I don’t know who this lady with an actual face who keeps posting on my acct is

[lavellenchanted]

begin again (edwina's version) is so 💖💖💖

Obviously you know exactly what this is! My currently very meandering attempt at a post S2 Edwina-centric fic as she navigates her return to society with a damaged reputation, learns that suppressing her hurt and anger out of guilt is not the same thing as actually working through it and letting it go, and struggles to trust her growing feelings for Prince Fredrich.

Here's a bit more of the scene between her and Eloise I posted not long ago.

“It’s just so . . . inane. And degrading,” Eloise says acerbically, staring at the glittering whirl in front of them with an expression of undisguised disdain. “Letting themselves be paraded around like bejewelled livestock to be weighed and measured.” When she doesn’t get an immediate reply she looks over and lifts an eyebrow.  “Can you honestly say I’m wrong?”  Edwina takes a long sip of her lemonade - not particularly tasteful, but still appropriately sour - as she considers her answer. Last year she would have made some vague, conciliatory remark intended to smooth Eloise’s ruffled feathers and keep the peace, that revealed nothing of her true thoughts. Perhaps last year she would not have known what her true thoughts really were. Today she lowers her glass, and looks Eloise in the eye as she says, “No, I do not think you are wrong, per se, but I think you don’t recognise your own privilege in being able to say so.” Eloise snorts. “My privilege? You mean the privilege of having a brain?” A flash of irritation gives bite to Edwina’s reply, “No, I mean the privilege of having a wealthy, powerful and loving family that can support you.”  The bemused frown on Eloise’s face makes it clear that she doesn’t understand. Swallowing a sigh, Edwina takes her elbow and steers her to a quieter corner of the ballroom and points to a blonde girl in a glittering pink dress, dancing with Lord Fife. “You see her? Miss Grace Campbell. Her father gambled away their family’s fortune. She has no brothers, so if she does not marry well, she and her mother will be destitute.”  Turning slightly, she gestures to another, dark-haired young lady laughing prettily at something Benedict Bridgerton is saying.  “Or her? Lady Veronica Ryswell. Her uncle is the Earl of Staffordshire, and has plenty of wealth, but there are rumours that he has quite a temper.” She pauses, letting that sink in and out of the corner of her eye sees Eloise start to shift uncomfortably as she realises what Edwina is implying. “Or take me.” “You?” “What money my father left us when he died is all but gone. My grandparents have disowned us. My reputation is hanging by a thread and I have no dowry.” “Anthony would never let you –” Eloise starts but Edwina cuts across her. “My options are to marry, or to be dependent on the man who humiliated me in front of the ton and is the reason my reputation has been damaged in the first place.” There’s a pause, and this time it’s Edwina’s turn to raise an eyebrow - almost daring Eloise to contradict her assessment of her situation, for she can tell the other girl is struggling with the desire to come to her brother’s defence. But, in the end, she can’t, and her shoulders slump a bit at the realisation. Edwina nods and continues. “I would not for a minute try to argue that society is fair to women. I know very well it isn’t. And I don’t think you’re wrong to want more - I would have liked the chance to go to university if I could. But I also don’t think you realise that you have more freedom than almost any other woman in this room. You will never have to worry about money or how you are to live. Your brother will never force you to marry someone you don’t want. Your family’s powerful enough that any scandal that touches you will last days at the most - how long was it after that Whistledown piece about you that you started getting invited to things again?” A strange expression crossed Eloise’s face at the mention of her brief brush with notoriety, but Edwina’s too caught up in her own thoughts to pay it much attention. “It’s been a year and there are some who still cut me in public, you know. And any eligible bachelor who comes near me is warned that I’ll likely jilt him. If there’s something you want to study, I would bet that Anthony would find you a tutor. You might not be able to do as much as your brothers, Eloise, but you could do so much more than so many of us if you tried.”

#wip titles game #edwina sharma

[shockercoco]

Only Pleasure Remains

Feyd Rautha x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, penetration, dirty talk, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, basically enemies to lovers

Word count - 3608

a/n - this was supposed to be posted over a week ago, but I kept procrastinating on finishing it. This is also my longest imagine so far lol. Disclaimer: I haven't read the books yet I've only seen the movies, but I just ordered the first one. I hope you enjoy :)

You’re currently pacing back and forth in one of the vip suites, waiting for the fight to start. It’s the fight that will determine whether or not you’ll have to marry the most deranged person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Feyd Rautha is known for being unhinged in and out of the arena. It could be because of his past that he lacks compassion, or he just has no regard for anyone other than himself. He’ll kill anyone in an instant without blinking an eye, but sometimes he’ll take his time to enjoy the moment.

You’ve never talked to Feyd and have only looked at him from a distance each time you visited the planet for your father to discuss business matters. When he would join the meetings you would avoid eye contact, but he would always watch you. When you guys would pass each other in the corridors you would keep your head down and walk faster, but you knew he was looking at you. You never knew if he was looking at you like a piece of meat or an actual human being. What really made you sick is that, despite his horrific personality, you still found him attractive.

Recently your father and Baron Harkonnen had a huge argument and couldn’t come to an agreement, and of course the only way to resolve the issue is with a battle with you as collateral. It wasn't completely out of the blue since  your father was somewhat close to the Baron, but it was a terrible proposition. Baron Harkonnen wants to make sure his bloodline is secure before he dies and Feyd takes control, but of all the women in the universe he had to pick you.

So now here you are a week later, along with the other citizens inside the arena, waiting to see the outcome of the fight. You already know what it will be though, everyone knows it, but you’re hoping that just this once the outcome will be different.

Eventually, you hear Feyd’s name being announced to the crowd followed by him strutting into the arena with no emotion on his face. You can’t bring yourself to watch the fight so you turn your back as soon as it starts, not even bothering to take a seat. The arena is dead silent once the fight starts, allowing you to hear the clashing of swords and the shouts coming from each man. 

It’s not long before Feyd’s announced as the winner, as usual, and the crowd erupts in cheers. You turn back around and catch sight of the dead bodies splayed around Feyd who's basking in the praise from the sea of people in the stands. Turning your head to your left you lock eyes with your father who gives you an apologetic smile, but you just shake your head not knowing what to say to him. You take one last look into the arena and at Feyd’s face, before leaving.

The guards already knew of the arrangement and wouldn’t let you stray too far from the grounds of the house. It didn’t take long for you to find out about the several lady’s maids you now had – more than back home – because they basically circled around you until you finally told them that you didn’t need them at the moment. One remained close behind you though.

When you were shown to your room, you were met with one that was far from small. You had a king size bed, a spacious bathroom with a walk-in shower, and a balcony that allowed you to look out into the distance at the skyline. You notice your knick knacks and personal items were scattered around the room on tables and shelves, and your clothes had already been unpacked and inside the closet.

They really don’t waste time here.

As beautiful as the room was, it couldn’t replace the one you had back home – the life you had back home.

Later that night after you bathed, you were about to call it a day and just crawl under the covers, but you decided against it. Luckily there was no one standing outside of your room or lurking in the hallway, but there was still a chance of you getting caught by one of the guards or by one of the Baron’s henchmen.

Even though you’ve been here many times, you have only gone to the places that were necessary: the throne room, restrooms, dining hall, and the room for meetings. As you walked you noticed that many of the rooms were either locked or empty. You did manage to find a room full of paintings and another resembling an armory that seemed to be for display only. 

Some of the items were tarnished, some looked extremely fragile, and some still had the blood on it from the time it was used. When you heard a pair of paced footsteps, you decided to make your way to the other side of the house to continue your exploration and to avoid being seen.

The other side gave you a completely different vibe, mainly because the corridors were barely lit. The main source of light came from the fireworks exploding outside, an applaud for Feyd. You started to wish you had brought a candle or anything that could grant you more light since the ceiling lights weren’t helping much. The farther you walked, you started to feel more and more uneasy. You felt like someone was watching you, which is ironic because this wasn’t the best lighting for seeing.

Feeling it was time to end the exploration, you turn around and start to head back but stop when you hear something. Or, at least you thought you heard something. It was dead silent except for the faint sounds of explosions. You were about to keep walking when you felt someone wrap their arm around and press a blade to your neck. The person’s scent is familiar though, reminding you of what you would smell every time you walked past Feyd.

Was he just casually hiding in the shadows?

“What are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?” you hear Feyd ask from behind you in his usual raspy voice, the rasp that you love but will never admit outloud.

You're relieved that it’s not a random person, but still a little fearful given the fact he could end your life at any second. The thought practically paralyzes you.

“I was just about to head back to my room,” your response is short.

“That doesn’t answer what I asked. No one’s allowed this way,” Feyd says as he circles around to stand in front of you with the edge of his blade still pressed to your neck. “Wait a minute, I’ve seen you around. Aren’t you that lord’s daughter, the one I’m so supposed to be marrying?”

You were about to just give him a simple nod, but then remember the blade pressed against your throat. “Yes.”

He waits a moment as he looks at you before moving his hand away and leaving it to hang by his side along with the blade. Despite being surrounded by darkness, his blade still manages to shine. You automatically take a step back.

“I could’ve killed you, why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t care too much.

“To be fair you had a blade pressed to my neck,” you answer as Feyd’s dark eyes stare into yours. He doesn’t reply right away as he looks you up and down. His stare makes you feel exposed considering you’re only wearing a thin nightgown covered by a robe. Unconsciously, you begin to play with your fingers behind your back. Feyd notices your fidgeting though.

“Are you scared of me?” he suddenly asks, and you’re not sure how to reply. Everyone is scared of him, but is he genuinely asking or is he trying to get a kick out of this?

“No,” you choose to say, and he smirks.

He starts to slowly walk around you as he continues speaking. “No? Do I just make you nervous then? It has to be something because you’ve always avoided eye contact with me, and I know how you would distance yourself from me on purpose. In fact, this is the first conversation we’ve had. Come on now, we’re going to be married soon, we should be able to talk to each other,” he smirks.

Well, what the hell am I supposed to say to that?

“Isn’t that how you want people around you to feel? Everyone has their weakness, what’s yours?” you question as he continues to circle you.

He doesn’t hesitate to say, “I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has one,” you pause as you think then say, “what about the women you always have around? Everyone knows you’re a playboy, that sounds like a weakness to me.”

He stops in front of you to look down at you and into your eyes with the smirk still on his face. “That sounds like jealousy to me.” 

“It’s simply an observation,” you shrug. 

“You know, I usually don’t let the women I sleep with talk to me like this,” he says with a tilt of the head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that for you I guess I will make an exception, given the fact you’re my bride and all,” he says before he circles behind you again to press his body up against yours. He leans into your ear to whisper, “but just this time.”

You wish you could stop the goosebumps from appearing on your skin or the shiver that works its way through your body. You thought Feyd wouldn’t notice, but he must’ve because he leans back with a light chuckle. Right now all you want to do is slap him across the face for his arrogance and yourself for the way your body reacted to his words. 

“I won’t sleep with you just yet, my darling, but it will happen soon because it’s obvious you can’t wait,” Feyd says as he slowly backs away from you. You turn around wanting to say something else, but before you get the chance he says, “run along now, it’s getting late.”

He keeps that smug look on his face as you give him one last look before leaving. Your mind tells you to hate him, but your body says otherwise as a warm feeling travels through your core as you walk back to your room.

You also hate how every night after part of you expects Feyd to walk through your bedroom door. He didn’t come the night after your encounter in his corridor. He didn’t come the next night either or the night after that. You knew it was foolish waiting for a man that has his own sex slaves – a man that you’re supposed to detest.

It isn’t until the fourth day that Feyd arrives at your door; little did you know Feyd was having his own internal conflict. He hadn’t used any of his slaves since that night he caught you in his corridor, not feeling the need for them. He also was not a fan of his feelings toward you.

You were standing out on your balcony enjoying the night breeze when you heard a knock on your door. You knew it could only be one of your lady’s maids at this time, so you didn’t hesitate to tell the person outside the door to come in as you took a couple steps back into your room. In walked a lady’s maid that you have grown quite fond of over the past couple of days.

“There’s a visitor here for you, would you like me to send them in,” she asks.

You wanted to say no given the current time, but you nodded anyway and watched as she walked back out. Not even a few seconds later, Feyd replaces her spot covered in a black robe, a stark contrast to his pale skin, and closes the bedroom door behind him.

Your body stiffens, nearly stuck to the ground, as you quickly try to figure out your emotions in your head. Feyd takes his time walking towards you as he looks around your room, and this gives you enough time to pull yourself together. You step back out onto the balcony as he gets closer and closer, and he follows you out there.

“Nice view don’t you think?” he asks as he stands next to you, looking out into the distance.

“Did you really come here to ask me about the view?” you look up at him.

“Straight to the point, I like it,” he smirks.

“Straight to what point?” you act dumb and put some space in between the two of you.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he tilts his head down at you.

“Apparently to talk about the view,” you reply in a joking manner and look out into the distance to avoid his gaze. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his jaw tighten.

“You’re making this hard.”

“What?” you ask, still not looking at him. You want him to hear him say outloud what he wants.

Except he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he quickly closes the distance between the two of you as he places his lips on yours and his hands on your cheeks. The force he uses startles you and pushes you back a couple steps, but you recover and grab onto his wrists as you begin kissing him back.

You wonder for a second if you’re giving in too easily, but the feeling of Feyd’s grip on you tosses the idea out of your mind.

Feyd hated how needy and desperate he felt as his lips attacked  yours. The kiss was rough, but Feyd was trying to hold himself back from going too far. Normally he wouldn’t care about how rough or gentle he was with a woman because his slaves never complained — not like they had a choice — and some of them even came to him first to satisfy their own needs. This time though, it was him coming to you.

Feyd deepens the kiss, keeping his hold on your face firm, as he starts to push you back into your bedroom. Once your legs hit the bed, he unties the knot on your robe before slowly peeling it off your shoulders leaving you nothing but your nightgown and undergarments. He breaks the kiss to push you back, and you scoot your body into the center of the bed.

 The way he focuses on you as he stands at the bottom of the bed makes you feel like one of Feyd’s opponents in the arena. The thought sends warmth between your legs.

He takes off his own robe leaving him in only his underwear before he starts to crawl on the bed, trailing a hand up one of your ankles up to your thigh, until he’s hovering above you. Your breathing is shallow and your heart races in anticipation for what’s to come. The only other person you've had sex with was one of your close friends back on your home planet, and you enjoyed it, but that friend wasn’t Feyd. He wasn’t a murderous maniac known for his sexual relations like Feyd was. Another wave of electricity passes through your body.

Feyd dips his head down and starts placing kisses on your neck from your ear to your collarbone,  making a low whine escape your lips. All the while, the hand gripping your thigh inches farther north until it reaches your panties and begins to touch you through them. It doesn’t take too long for a wet spot to appear on the fabric, and it’s obvious that Feyd notices too, seeing as how you can feel a smirk form on his lips. You squeeze your legs together wanting more from him, but Feyd pushes your legs back open and bites the skin on your neck.

You draw in a breath as he whispers into your ear, “be patient.” His voice may be light, but you can hear the firmness behind it.

He moves his face away from your neck and takes his time as he moves his body lower and lower until his face is between your thighs. He pulls your underwear down your legs before tossing them to the side, and helps you dispose of your nightgown revealing your bare body to him. You start to wish that your bedroom lights were off as you look down to see Feyd’s dark eyes taking all of you in.

A smile spreads across his face once he notices you shying up. “There’s no hiding from me now.”

He says nothing else and dives right into you. His movements are rough yet gentle as he eats you out, resembling hunger. The way he flicks his tongue over you like a snake has your back arching while you let out a consistent string of moans. You tightly grab hold of the blanket beneath you with both hands as you move your hips into his mouth. You can’t help but roll your eyes from the speed of his tongue.

Feyd places one hand onto your stomach before moving it up to one of your breasts to grab hold of, while his other hand joins his lips between your thighs. He wastes no time slipping a finger into you as he moves his mouth up to suck harshly on your clit.

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. One of your hands lets go of the blanket to join Feyd’s on your breast.

The finger inside of you pumps into you at a measured pace before gradually getting faster. He decides to add another finger without letting up on his speed. You can tell that him pleasuring you gives him satisfaction, noticing the fact that he’s in his own world. Naturally, your body starts to move away from his mouth and your legs start to close as the pleasure becomes more intense.

Feyd releases his hold on your clit and lifts up his head to make eye contact with you. “I need you to stay still,” he tells you in more of a warning tone and pulls you back to his mouth before continuing, not waiting for you to answer.

Once you feel your orgasm nearing your moans get louder as they turn into whines. Feyd notices the way you become shaky and how you start writing around more so he moves his mouth away and pulls his fingers out of you. Your mouth falls open as you look down at him, the warmth previously building up in your stomach slowly starting to fade away. You’re about to say something when he looks into your eyes and shushes you.

He then moves his hand on your breast and places it on your stomach, gently adding pressure. You’re confused and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. 

Then suddenly you feel his fingers start to move inside you again, except this time at a different pace. He begins to quickly pump his fingers in and out of you, causing you to throw your head back as your back lifts off the bed. You feel yourself getting close to tumbling over the edge again, although this time it feels different. It’s unlike all the other times you have brought yourself to an orgasm.

Right as your orgasm hits you, you feel a gush of liquid squirt out of you. You cum with a loud cry, forgetting the fact that the doors to your balcony are still wide open. When the thought pops into your mind you don’t even care about anyone being able to hear you.

Feyd stops when you move your hands down to try and push him away. He looks down at his chest to see the mess you created and lets out a low laugh. As your body starts to relax, you look down to see Feyd standing at the bottom of the bed pulling down his underwear to reveal his hard length to you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he tells you as he positions himself between your legs.

He rubs the tip of his length up and down your slit spreading your arousal around. You let out a whine at his teasing and he says, “ready for another one, are we?”

He doesn’t stop right away, but when he finally glides into your soaked opening it pulls a moan out of both of you. He places his arms on either side of your head and leans down to connect his lips to yours. The kiss is rough and sloppy, and you tightly wrap your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you. You don’t even care if you seem desperate anymore.

You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but Feyd doesn’t care as he ruthlessly pounds into you. Once he finds the spot inside of you that makes you gasp, he makes a mental note of it as he repeatedly thrusts into it.

It doesn’t take long for your next orgasm to build up, releasing it with a silent cry as you unintentionally dig your fingers into Feyd’s back causing him to groan in your ear in pleasure. He keeps his thrusts consistent as you begin to leak around his cock and onto the blanket beneath you. There’s no doubt you’ll have to change the bedding later. 

With another smirk he firmly grips your jaw and says, “I hope you can take a few more, my darling.”

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha smut #feyd x reader #dune part 2 #smut

[darnell-la]

Toxic Kooks get what they want.

word count: 2.1k

paring: dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader x dark!Topper

warning: cnc, dark content, rough face fucking, public cnc, hair pulling, gagging, humiliation, etc.

note: If you do not like anything that involves SA/CNC, do not continue, and do not think differently about the stories you like that we post. We have different authors on this page. We apologize if this is disappointing.

This is a mini-series as well so like, comment, and repost if you guys would like a part two!!!!!!

I DO NOT CONSENT TO OUR WORK BEING TAKEN.

————————————————————————

3rd person pov 

Living the life of a Pogues is hard. Especially when you only catch feelings for Kooks. There’s only one type of Kook and those are the ones y/n recommends no one falls for. The cocky and stuck up Kooks. 

You see, y/n used to lead Rafe on. She wasn’t sure about what she wanted you to do until she realized that he was not for her. 

He’s argued too much about not being able to have sex with her, or even touch her. She wasn’t ready for someone like Rafe to touch her. They usually leave after they get what they want. 

It became an everyday argument, so she decided to stop talking to him. That’s when she started talking to JJ. Rafe grew mad and threatened her through social media and even at parties or whenever he saw her. 

Scotlynn's pov

“Are you scared yet?” JJ asked as John B parked in front of the outside movie theater. “I love scary movies, JJ. I keep saying this,” I playfully rolled my eyes, knowing he’s the one who’s actually scared. 

“Well see when you ask me or Pope to sing you a bedtime story, later tonight,” JJ joked as we all laughed. “Ha ha, very funny,” I said as we all got out of the car to make our way to the best spot on the grass before the Kooks got here and took up space. 

Me and JJ continued poking fun at each other as we grabbed our things to set up in the grass. JJ offered to carry most of my things, and I let him. He’s been trying to get at me and I’ve been accepting it. 

I’ve caught myself staring at him a lot recently. I’ve also felt like I couldn’t go a day without seeing him. I hope he hadn’t noticed, but it’s pretty obvious I like him back. Probably more than I think I do. 

“When a man’s around you, you shouldn’t be paying, y/n,” JJ said as he gave the lady who gave me my food, some cash. I put my wallet away with a sigh because he knows I hate when people pay for me. 

“Don’t worry. You can pay me back with a date. How about that?” He basically asked me out, making me smile. “Fine, but only because I have to pay you back,” I rolled my eyes as he chuckled. 

JJ and I walked back to the group and began to eat and talk before the movie started. JJ was already scared but accused me of being scared, so he pulled me into him. Now we’re cuddling, and Sarah’s smirking at me from the side. 

After several sips of my drink, I decided I had to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” I whispered to JJ as I slowly got up and ducked through people sitting down in their areas so I wouldn’t disrupt the movie too much for them. 

I quickly made my way through the big parking lot and to the bathroom, I didn’t know was this far. I hate when people put bathrooms far away from outside movie theaters. Anything can happen. 

I quickly went into the mini bathroom building and did my business. I flushed and washed my hands, then fixed myself up in the mirror, hoping to look more presentable to JJ when I came back. 

“I should have brought gum with me,” I said to myself as I made my way toward the front door of the restrooms. I opened the door, just to meet Rafe and Topper waiting outside of it. 

“Jesus Christ. What now, Rafe?” I asked, annoyed that he always finds a way to catch me alone. “Date with JJ Maybank? Really, y/n? Couldn’t get any lower than that?” Rafe asked, seeming upset for absolutely no reason at all as always. 

“What does that have to do with you? I’ve never dated you, and even if I do, I can do whatever I want now since I’m single. Now, piss off,” I said then went to pass him, but he got in my way. 

“Topper, don’t tell me he got you into this. Sarah is literally one of my closest friends. She’d be upset,” I said, hoping Topper would talk Rafe out of this like usual. 

“That line won’t work anymore, princess. He’s on my side. Especially after the deal I offered him. It’s hard to say no to it,” Rafe said as he tilted his head to get a look-up sundress I was wearing. 

“You’re sick, Rafe. Sick in the fucking head,” I said, then rolled my eyes and went to take a different way out of this mess until Topper got in my way, which is very surprising. 

“Don’t, y/n,” he said, sounding slightly threatening, but I didn’t care. I didn’t catch it too fast. “Topper, don’t fuck with me, okay? I’ll have Sarah on your ass, and I know how much you hate that shit. Now get out of my way,” I went to walk past again but he slightly pushed me back with a chuckle. 

“All the times I’ve helped you out of his situations. All the times I prevented something from happening, and you still give me that bitchy attitude. Shows how much of an ignorant bitch you are,” Topper surprised me with his words. 

“Thought I was the only one who noticed,” Rafe joked, making me grow angrier. “Fuck toy both,” I said. I didn’t even get a chance to my feet before Topper gripped my neck and pulled me close to him. 

“Straighten that shit up, before I do it for you,” he threatened, surprising me even more. “Topper!” I tried yelling but his hand was too tight around my neck. He’s so strong. 

“Don’t start, y/n. I’m giving you a chance to behave and accept that someone like you, isn’t for JJ. You’re for me-“ I went to say but I quickly kicked him hard in his crotch. As soon as he let my throat go, I took off. 

“Fuck,” Rafe cussed under his breath, not wasting time to run after me. I ran through cars and around them to make more space between us, knowing he was way faster than me. He almost had me when we first started running. 

I just hit the grass, close to the people sitting down but not close enough. The movie’s too loud for them to hear me if I yell and it’s too dark for them to see me running. 

I went to try and yell until I was pulled back and my mouth was covered. “Ah uh,” Rafe said as he dragged me backwards. I kicked and screamed but they were muffled. I went to kick more aggressively but he quickly pushed me off of him, grabbed a handful of my hair, and threw my face into a tree. 

I fell to the ground and whined in pain as tears filled my eyes. I’ve never felt pain like this before. I touched my forehead, hoping a scar might not be left. I felt blood…

“Rafe, what the fuck!” I cried out. I tried getting up but felt dizzy and fell back down. “Be if you didn’t pull that bullshit, I would have been easier. You’ve pushed my buttons enough,” Rafe said as Trooper walked up from behind him. 

“My truck. She pissed me off for the last time,” Topper said as he came up to me and grabbed me. “No, let me go you bastard,” I whined, feeling pain every time my brain worked too much. Topper threw me over his head and then walked off with me. 

Rafe smirked at me behind Topper's back, knowing he was up to no good. “Put me down! Where are you taking me? Let me fucking go!” I tried being loud but they just laughed. 

“Trying to stay tough? We’ll see how much of a tough girl you are once I break you,” Rafe said. “What?” I asked, confused but they ignored me since I didn’t really give a full question for them to ask me. 

“Open it up,” Topper said, sounding heated, but that’s not my problem. He put his hands on me and got what he deserved. Now it’s Rafe’s turn once I get a hand of myself. 

“Give us a hard time, and it’ll get worse, do you understand?” Topper asked right after he dropped me in his back seat. “Fuck you,” I said, full-heartedly, making him grab my ankles and pull me out of his truck. 

I fell to the ground, hitting the back of my head on the way down, making Rafe laugh in disbelief. He couldn’t believe how Topper was acting. It’s like he loves seeing this side of him. Like he’s been waiting. 

“You’re gonna learn some fucking manners,” Topper growled under his breath as I heard him fondling with his belt-hand jeans. “I thought you had some, but you clearly don’t Kook,” I said harshly as I tried to keep my vision focused, but couldn’t. 

Seconds later, Tooper harshly grabbed my hair, causing me to whine in pain but they were soon stopped by his cock being forced into my mouth. I screamed, trying to wiggle away, now noticing what they’d been trying to do, but it was too late. I’m here now, alone and far away from the crowd. 

“You talk a lot for a girl who struggled taking cock,” Topper thrust his hip harshly to force himself further into my mouth. I tried begging him to stop but he only pushed further until he was completely down my throat. 

“Fuuuck!” He groaned as he hunched over to rest his hand inside of his truck. “Shit… This is cheating,” he said, going to pull out but his knees bucked as my lips moved along his shaft. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said under his breath as Rafe came up. “Just do it. You’re already here. Besides. We ain’t tell Sarah. I’ll make sure of it,” Rafe basically threatened. “Y-You promise?” Topper stuttered at me trying to relax him in my throat, but couldn’t. 

“I promise bro, just fuck her mouth. It doesn’t even count,” Rafe said, which is a lie. “Fuck! Thank you, bro,” Topper thanked before he continued his assault. 

“No, no, no!” I tried screaming and pushing him off, which made my headache worse. “Finally putting that bitchy little mouth to use,” Topper looked down at me as he tighten his grip on my hair, causing me to yelp in pain. 

“Better be glad I’m not stuffing your pussy full of my cum. Otherwise, you’d be a whore stuffed twice tonight by two different men. Maybe three times if JJ gets to action and realizes what a useful slut you are,” Topper said some hard words that Rafe would only say. Now I know why they’re so close. 

“Should take her back to the house to do what we really want to her. Maybe then she’ll realize how easy it is to get what we want,” Rafe said as he came up and rubbed a tear off of my cheek. 

“No, no, she needs to go back to the group. Don’t want them getting too suspicious,” Topper struggled to say. He’s close. And he’s going to make me swallow everything. 

“True. I’ll get my chance another time. We see how easy it is, after tonight,” Rafe chuckled as he backed up and Topper’s thrust got sloppy. I squeezed my eyes shut as Topper groaned loudly and slammed all the way down my throat to release. 

“And you swallowed it. How pathetic,” Topper said as he pulled out. He pushed my head away, causing my body to lay out on the floor once again. I thought it was over until Rafe pulled me up to my feet and then sat me down on the edge of Topper's trunk. 

“Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll have all of Figure 8 after your pretty ass, do you understand?” Rafe threatened again. I nodded as tears rolled down my cheek. 

Rafe stuck his tongue and dragged it across my face, licking up all of my tears until he reached my mouth to make out with me. I didn’t want to. He made me. I stayed still and stiff and didn’t move my lips as he went to work.  

I can’t believe he’s huffing and puffing while doing this. He’s turned on and gripping my waist. How could they be okay with this?

I’m now at home, lying beside JJ after the long night out. I had to tell him the bathrooms had long lines. He asked me about the blood on my face, and I lied. I told him “You know how I am? I hit my damn head on the bathroom stall,” and he believed it…

Part two!

part three!

#18+ #18+ content #18+ fic #18+ minors dni #18+ only #18+ post #smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe cameron smut #dark!rafe cameron #dark!fic #topper thornton #topper thorton x reader #topper thorton imagine #topper thorton smut #dark!topper thorton #rough cnc #cnc kinda #cnc kidnapping #outer banks #outer banks smut

[toriangeli]

I was writing a longer post with my takes on all the 18th century costumes in the trailer, but this section about what we see in the theatre with Armand watching Lestat perform got long, so I'm posting it separately.

If you thought you remembered Lestat mentioning in TVL how Lelio doesn’t wear a mask, you’re not imagining things.  He doesn’t.  Moreover, there’s something very distinctive about the pattern on his costume.  Those triangles on his sleeves?

What’s more, the mask he’s wearing is a straight-up replica of this:

The mask itself will change between eras and theatres, but for this character, it always has that boil on the forehead. That triangle pattern and the mask together are for the character of Arlecchino/Harlequin.  Below is one traditional (VERY pre-18th century) look for Lelio:

Arlecchino is one of the goofier Commedia characters, being an aged, ugly, and supposedly stupid valet with a kind of trickster persona.  The triangle pattern is meant to mimic patchwork, and is also seen on Arlecchino’s lover, the lady’s maid Columbina.

But we know Lestat played Lelio in Paris, not Arlecchino.  It would be extremely weird for him to switch.  I don’t even think the guy who usually plays Arlecchino would want to give him up for the night if he could help it, since that’s like…the classic Commedia character, and kind of the opposite of Lestat's usual.

I think what we’re seeing could be Lestat’s particular genius with Commedia, where he could play this relatively unfunny young lover but still be very funny with it.  I think Lelio is disguising himself as Arlecchino for some kind of lover’s shenanigans.  Disguise hijinks are all over the place in the fiction of this era, a comedy trope that was really made popular by Commedia.  If you’ll note, Arlecchino in the picture wears a mask fixed to his face, not on a wand, leaving both his hands free because the mask is worn constantly.  I think Lestat may be using this style of mask so he can bring the mask away from his face when he’s speaking as Lelio and not Arlecchino.

Why is that interesting?

Because this isn’t how it goes the one time Lestat is onstage in Paris as a vampire, at all.  In that particular mental breakdown, Lestat doesn’t bother with any character at all, even if he's dressed for Lelio.  He just starts doing wild shit.  But Armand is at this performance.  I could see Armand stalking him at the meltdown performance, as someone from the Children of Satan was there to witness it, but nobody from the CoS indulges in these human frivolities and they wouldn't just happen to be there and notice Lestat.  It was their entire beef with Lestat in the first place, that he was acting like a human and not like a demon.  The CoS did stalk Lestat, but only after he became a vampire—that we know of.

My theory: the CoS noticed Magnus noticing Lestat and Armand wondered what was up.  We know they were keeping close tabs on Magnus.  Moreover, Armand…his costume is hard to see because of the Where’s Waldo nature of the pic below, but he’s dressed simply and in black, in what does not look anything like 18th century Western European clothing.  His hair is disheveled, too.  He doesn’t blend in at all, but he wouldn’t blend in anyway when every single other face in that crowd is lily-white.  I think, then, that he’s wearing something non-Western that I’m not familiar with.  Judging by what looks to be a split, flowing sleeve, it could be Russian or Arab or from any number of countries Armand would believably be a native of.  He may have grabbed clothing that would let him blend in simply as a brown man in the 18th century who isn’t trying to look French.  Any actual fashion historians who know non-Western clothing would need to be on this one.

I may not be able to identify what Armand is wearing here, but everyone else is looking 1780’s French to me.  Reenactors I’ve known have joked about how in every century, the 80’s has massive hair.  We’ve also just begun the transition away from the conical torso/bell-shaped skirts in 1770’s women’s fashion and toward the empire waist that will dominate until roughly 1820.  1780’s gowns have a wonderful freeness to them.

Anyway, either Armand was stalking Lestat before he was turned, or Lestat did more than one performance as a vampire. I think the former is more believable, personally, since we know they were keeping an eye on Magnus.

#amc iwtv #iwtv #armand #the vampire armand #the vampire lestat #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #costume stuff ig #can't wait till the show airs and i can see how much i was wrong about

[captain-mj]

does selkie!soap know that ghost is a changeling? if not can we have him figure it out?

Yes! I absolutely fucking can! Continuation from this post

1

Soap looked at his husband, watching him carefully. Ghost had eaten twelve pancakes. Not eggos. Eggos would be reasonable. Twelve, full sized pancakes. 

To be fair, Ghost had been the one cooking them, so it wasn’t that noticeable to anyone else. They all had large appetites. Big men, big muscles, bit metabolisms. 

But Soap was watching Ghost make more for himself and he was clearly trying to make it seem like he hadn’t eaten that much. It was odd. 

His husband. What a funny phrase to be able to use now. Anyway. His husband was odd. 

He poured more syrup on his pancakes, he made chocolate chip for Soap, blueberry for Gaz, strawberry for Price and from the looks of it, plain for himself. Ghost ate in the kitchen, probably to keep them from seeing his face. It wasn’t unusual, but Soap couldn’t help but wonder how often Ghost was using it to hide his odd eating habits. 

2

The next was simpler. Ghost’s gloves had torn. His hands looked normal but very pale. 

“Guess you don’t get out in the sunlight much, huh LT?”

“Not really.” Ghost rubbed his hands together gently. 

Soap tossed him again and turned away, only to hear it thunk against the floor. He looked backed to see Ghost just staring at it. 

“I’ll stick to knives.”

“There’s a lot of people. I’d feel better if you have a gun.”

“Do you have one with a grip?”

“What? No.” Soap stared at him for a minute and Ghost relented. He picked the gun up and followed him. 

It wasn’t until later that he finally got to put the gun down and Soap saw them. Everywhere the metal had touched his hands were burns. Severe ones. In parts, especially where he’d have it pressed hard to his palm, the skin had started to bubble and crack. 

Ghost noticed him staring and dropped the gun. “Ironic. A sniper who can’t actually touch it. S’why I wear the gloves...” 

“Ah...” Soap thought of the steel and therefore the iron in the gun. His whole not human theory was starting to make much more sense. 

3

It was such an odd topic to bring up, but they were on it and Soap was determined to use it. 

“Yeah, personally I grew up Roman Catholic. Got the baptism and everything.” According to his dad, who had laughed about it, his mom had begged him not to, worried it would kill Soap or make him human. According to his mom, his dad had jumped at the idea that baptism might make him human. It did neither of course. “What about you, LT?”

“My mom was Protestant, but I never was baptized. She stopped taking us before I was old enough to do it.”

“Why?”

Ghost paused, glancing around. No one was really focusing on them so he shrugged. Soap had noticed that although the bond effected him in the usual ways, the world revolving more around Ghost, him always being aware of Ghost, feeling Ghost’s presence around him at all times, yada, yada, it had also affected Ghost, which was interesting. It made him a little more open with Soap. Just Soap. If that sent a thrill through him, no one needed to know. 

“My mom took me and Tommy every Sunday. My dad occasionally tagged along. One day, one of the patrons caught me stealing an extra piece of the communion bread. This lady made it fresh and it was fucking great. They told my dad and he hit me with a bible so hard it knocked me to the ground. Right in front of everyone. My mom stopped taking us to church after that.” Ghost told it all to him quietly. “I had liked going, even though I didn’t believe in it. Always felt insincere, but it made my mom happy.” 

“Oh.” Soap stared. “How old were you?”

“I think I was seven.” Ghost hummed and looked away. “Never got baptized. Probably good thing. They always heated the holy water up.” 

Soap prepared himself for the joke of “boiling the hell out of it” but after a moment he realized Ghost was sincere. 

The holy water burned him. 

Soap suddenly had a vague idea of what he was. 

4

Soap had a heavy suspicion at this point. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Ghost was, so he decided to do a little experiment to see. 

Before he left that morning, he turned his shirt inside out and then slipped his hoodie over it. The only exception being creatures that had to notice. 

Ghost stared at him for a moment before he simply turned away and ignored him. Soap tried to get his attention and Ghost just wrinkled his nose and turned away from him. 

Gaz gave them an odd look and Soap just smiled awkwardly before stepping away. He fixed his clothing and tried once again to strike up a conversation. 

Immediately, Ghost actually talked to him. It was his usual rather quiet amount but it was definitely there.

“Why did you ignore me?”

“What are you talking about MacTavish?”

“Right now. You ignored me.”

“You weren’t talking to me a minute ago. You need to go to the medics?” Ghost seemed genuinely concerned. 

“Nah, probably just dehydrated. I’ll go grab a drink.” He smiled at him and stepped away. 

Gaz looked at him. “I think Ghost is going a tad crazy.”

“Nah, think he’s fucking with me.” Soap covered for him. 

Gaz didn’t look like he believed him but he dropped it. 

5

“Johnny, why are we on a secluded beach in the middle of the fucking night?” Ghost had followed him though. In his civvies, the soft hoodie and sweatpants clinging to all the right places. His mom didn’t warn him how bad marriage would feel at first. Or more, how bad one sided marriage would feel. He wanted to attack Ghost. Throw himself at him and claim his husband in every way he could. 

“Simon. I need to talk to you about something.” Ghost turned towards him. Soap vaguely put the face he remembered from Los Almas over the ski mask. He was glad Ghost went with this instead of the plastic mask and balaclava. That day, the kohl makeup had run all the way down Ghost’s face, covering his cheeks and his nose. His hair was shaggy and curled oddly, sticking up all over the place. It had been shoved down as if to cover his ears and it felt in his eyes. Despite clearly being cut into a buzzcut recently, it looked like it hadn’t worked too well. Soap had wondered at the time if it had been unfinished and he had to rush it. 

Now that he knew he was a changeling, it made more sense. Their hair tended to grow unnaturally fast and choppy. 

“What do need to talk about Johnny?” Ghost seemed worried. He glanced at the coat around Soap’s shoulders. 

“I... I know you’re not human.” Soap decided to start there. 

There was a beat of silence. 

Then Ghost laughed. There was a slightly bitter edge to it. “Oh, fuck off, Soap. You know, out of everyone, I never expected that shit from you.” He started to turn away from him.

“I’m not either.” Soap thought he was playing coy. It made sense, Soap would never admit it so easily and this Ghost. King of not saying shit about himself. 

“MacTavish,” Ghost looked at him, “you may be experiencing psychosis. Sometimes men on the battlefield...” Soap stared at him, hearing him like he was muffled through more than just his mask. 

Did Ghost... not know? 

There was no way Ghost didn’t. He hid away all his oddities. Been so careful. There was no way he didn’t at least expect it.

“Have you ever heard of a selkie?” Soap interrupted. 

“The seals that turn into humans. Yeah, I guess.”

“I need you to understand I’m not... I’m...” Soap sighed. “Just. I need you to trust me for a just a minute, okay?”

Ghost stared at him for a long while before nodding slightly. “Okay.” 

Soap slowly slipped his coat off and then started to undress. He kept his eyes downcast, but he could feel Ghost’s eyes on him. Scanning over him with growing alarm. 

Soap wrapped his coat around him before he shucked off his underwear. 

“Johnny.” Ghost said softly and there was something there that Soap needed a lot more time to unpack.

“Trust me.” Soap said softly. “Just... could you turn around for a minute?”

“You’re willing to undress in front of me but not do... whatever you’re about to do?” Ghost sounded... amused. It made butterflies in his stomach. 

“It’s unpleasant.” Soap said softly. Ghost finally turned around him. 

His coat fused with his skin and the transformation was... unpleasant to look at it. His fur laced with him and he sorta fell to the ground, luckily able to muffle himself so it didn’t startle Ghost. 

There he was. A harbor seal. He barked and Ghost turned around slowly, staring at him. 

Ghost continued to stare. And continued. And stared. 

Soap slowly rolled over to his expose his stomach. He couldn’t exactly talk, but his dogtags, which he had clearly been wearing, were around his neck now. 

Ghost slowly moved closer, touching the chain and reading the name. He didn’t move, staying crouched over him. 

Soap could see the ring of gold around his pupils again. 

“Oh.” Ghost said softly. 

The transformation back was much easier and faster. His snout seemed to wrinkle before splitting and he poked his head out, shaking his head. It looked like he had just had the coat over his face, but Ghost knew better. 

“Take your mask off.” Soap muttered against him, the coat splitting down his chest to go back to a more coat like shape. His bare chest was out but he was smart enough to cover his lower half. 

Ghost stared at him even longer and Soap knew for a fact he hadn’t blinked the entire time. He reached up and pulled Ghost’s mask off for him. 

There was Simon. 

Oh. 

Oh God he’s incredibly hot. 

Simon hadn’t put the make up on so Soap was treated to his freckles. They were... He sat up and grabbed Simon’s face who didn’t seem that surprised by it honestly. 

They sparkled. They weren’t like a human’s at all. One, they were mostly shaped like stars instead of just dots and fleck. Two, they were a stunning gold color that reflected the moonlight. 

Soap reached up and ran his hands through Ghost’s hair. It was just like before, spiky and uneven despite clearly being freshly trimmed. His ears were pointed like an elf, too severe to look normal.

“When the body modifications came out, I just blamed it on that...”

“Do you... know?” Soap spoke gently to him but he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His husband was right here.

“No. I don’t... know. I didn’t even know there were other things like me. Thought I was just... wrong.”

“I think you may be a changeling.” Soap admitted. “I may have... tested it. A couple of times, trying to see if I could figure it out.”

Ghost glared at him and he went to take his mask back, but Soap stopped him. “Johnny... Please.”

“Simon.” Soap said softly, pulling him a little closer and Ghost finally slid to his knees instead of crouching. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Simon looked at him and suddenly stiffened. “When I took your coat.” 

“It’s okay. You didn’t... You didn’t purposely do anything.” Soap reassured.

“But I did do something.” 

Soap sighed. “This isn’t... the conversation I wanted to have tonight... What do you know about selkies?”

“Take their coat and you can control them. That’s it.”

“Pretty accurate. It’s a little more than just control though. When someone holds my coat, there’s an instinct under my skin. A desperation to please is the best way I can put it. It’s a survival tactic to keep from being punished according to my mom. You do what you can to keep your master happy so they don’t strike out at you.” 

“Have you...” Simon was touching him now. Holding his face and putting his arm around him. “Been...”

“Twice. Once when I was 12 for two months and once when I was 17 until I turned 19. The first one was by a kid my age and it wasn’t... nothing happened. People usually get concerned.” Johnny smiled at him. 

“And the other one?”

Johnny shook his head. “Another day. Please.”

“Another day.” Simon promised. “But what did I do?”

“You gave it back. The way you did it... You pick it back in my hands. You didn’t let me grab it.”

“Is that bad?” 

“We’re married. Kinda. It’s not legally binding, of course. It can be ignored. Even broken.” Soap mumbled the last parts. It hurt. He’d like to blame it on his coat. That it was making him a little crazy. But he knew it wasn’t just that. The idea of being rejected by Ghost was... He cared a lot for Ghost and it had nothing to do with being not quite human. 

Ghost was staring again. “Since the hospital. That was weeks ago.” 

“Yeah. I suppose it was. Look, I can tell you how to break it.” Soap felt Ghost’s mouth on his and the arm pulled him closer, right against his broad chest. 

“I haven’t been a very good husband to you.” Ghost joked, but there was a layer of stress underneath it. 

Soap shrugged. “I haven’t been a very good bride.” He leaned in closer. 

“Would you... like to be?”

“If you’d have me.”

Ghost huffed. “I’d be an idiot not to.” 

“Good. Although, you are going to have to court me. My mom is not very impressed with you right now.” Soap got up.

“You talked about me to your mom?” Ghost was scrambling to get up and follow him.

“Of course. Had to tell her some Brit married me. She was worried.” He flashed him a smile and tossed him his mask. 

“How the fuck do I court you?” Ghost tugged it on and followed him. He gathered up Soap’s clothes, watching him twirl around barefoot on the beach. 

“Figure it out.”

“Can I have your mom’s number?”

“Why the fuck do you need that??”

“To ask her how! Also I want your mom to like me.” 

#Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #Selkie Soap

[theshippirate22]

I posted this and expected it to be a good ol’ two note post but it got a lot of love so I got brainworms. thanks to my personal cheerleader @your-stranger-halfblood-things you’re a dear my darling <33

Stacy really isn’t expecting anything.

To everyone else it’s just April 23rd. There might be a track meet tonight, but even then, it’s ridiculous to equate that to anyone actually thinking of today as a holiday.

Stacy is really, really hoping it can just be April 23rd for her today too.

For a minute, she just lays there on her stomach, face buried in the pillow, and imagines that it’s not normal, that it’ll be just like the days Lottie and Christina turned 17, with laughter and presents and phone calls from home….

It won’t be like that, and she’s knows that, and she knows Olivia is going to do her damned hardest to make it the best day ever, which probably means she’s going to be particularly sweet all day and then they’re gonna have crazy awesome sex tonight and that’ll be that, and it’ll be April 24th and Stacy will be 17.

“Stacyyyyyy…” Olivia sings as she comes in, practically pouncing on her and tickling her sides.

“Ah, God, Liv! It’s seven am!” She squirms away, laughing despite her best efforts. “Cut it out.”

“I’m like 90% sure you have to get tickled on your birthday or you don’t grow right.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your source on that one?”

Olivia climbs over her, settling in between her legs so she can pop her elbows up on either side of Stacy’s head and box her in. “Mm, probably that one medical journal we had to read in Luther’s class.”

“Oh? Conveniently the one I couldn’t read?”

“Mhm,” She nodded adamantly. “See, if you had powered through the frankly macabre and horrific descriptions of blood and boils, you too could know the dangers of birthday tickle deficiency.” She punctuates it with a swift kiss.

“Gross, stop it,” Stacy laughs, weakly pushing her away but not stopping her from nuzzling into her neck and biting softly along her throat.

“Now listen, Stace,” She says, moving up to kiss all of her face. “We’ve got a very strict schedule to keep to today. You’ve got ten minutes before Lottie is coming in here to do your makeup. I told her to keep her hands off your hair, but you know how she is, so I’m afraid that’s a battle you’ve got to fight for yourself.”

“Why’s she doing my makeup? Is something happening?”

“Um duh.” Olivia pulls back to stare at her like she’s stupid. “You’ve got to look fabulous. Because, if I’m not mistaken, you’re turning seventeen at exactly 8:37 this morning and that’s reason for celebration indeed.”

“Why are you talking like that?” Stacy laughs again. “You sound like a founding father. Wait!” She pushes Olivia’s face from hers to ensure she can look her in the eye. “You didn’t tell Lottie it was my birthday right? You didn’t go around telling everyone?”

“No!” Olivia cries, seemingly outraged. “No, I would never!”

“Why are you smiling like that? What did you do? Liv!”

“I didn’t tell Lottie or Christina.”

“Liv!”

“But I may or may not have told Greg, who may or may not have told Lottie and Christina.”

“Oh my God, Olivia Nicole Moore, whyyyyyyy?”

“Because, Stacy Linda Harrington. I love you.” Another kiss, right on the lips. “And I am very stubborn and determined to show you that your family is full of asshats and you should forget about them and remember that you’ve got a family here. Who also loves you.”

Stacy wanted to argue more, but not really, because she was feeling particularly warm and happy in a way that she hadn’t felt for a long time, so she took the chance to kiss Olivia deeper.

Lottie came tumbling in not long after, and Stacy played beauty shop customer with her while Olivia watched smirking from where she sat on the bed. Stacy curled her hair and put on her uniform and Christina came to see what was taking them all so long before dragging them to breakfast.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the lady of the hour!”

“Hi, Greg,” Stacy grins, rolling her eyes.

“Happy Birthday, little missy,” He put his hands behind his back and stood on his toes, leaning toward her. “I know I’m supposed to remain impartial because I’m a TA and shit, but you do know you’re my favorite, right?”

“Impartial, my ass,” Olivia snorts. “Like you even try.”

He shushes her playfully then adds, “I have something for you, Stace.”

“Oh? What is it?”

He leads her back into the kitchens- just her; her friends wait patiently in the hall- and delivers a heaping stack of hot pancakes into her hands.

“It’s not Pancake Day?” Stacy says, trying to ignore the bubbling excitement in her stomach.

“Nah, but I know they’re you’re favorite, so I paid The Beast to make you some anyway.”

“Greg…” She wasn’t going to cry over this. That was ridiculous. God, no one had made her pancakes since she lived in Indiana and that was almost five years ago. “Thank you.”

She flings herself into his arms, holding out the plate to the side to preserve the gift and he rolls his eyes but hugs back nonetheless.

“Go eat with everybody else, I’ve gotta go get the mail, see if you have some birthday cards.”

She scoffs but doesn’t let it bring her down.

So that’s how she ends up in the lunch hall with her friends and her stack of pancakes. At one point, Miss Beastion (aka The Beast) comes to wipe down tables and breaks her glare for a moment to wish her a happy birthday and almost smiles.

Greg brings the mail around to their hall, all thirty of them, and there’s a box and a letter for Stacy.

She picks up the off white envelope first. “Here’s the card from my parents,” she explains. “Let’s put out bets now, yeah?”

“Dear Beloved Daughter,” Christina starts and Lottie bursts into laughter.

“It is your birthday,” Olivia continues.

“Hope to do business with you in the future, Richard Harrington,” Stacy finishes sardonically, slipping her nail under the adhesive and tearing it open.

Their jokes aren’t far from the truth. The card is completely white-except for the back side, which has the Harrington company logo on it- and inside all it says is “Happy Birthday! Love Mom and Dad” with three hundred dollars wedged in.

“Thanks, Donna,” Stacy murmurs.

“Wait, I thought Melanie was your dad’s secretary?” Lottie cuts in.

“Melanie is the one he’s fucking,” Stacy explains and Olivia laughs because she can’t help herself, adding “For now.”

“Donna is too old for him, thank God. She’s his real secretary, the one that used to babysit u- me. She’s been sending cards instead of them since I was like. Ten.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Olivia says suddenly. “Fuck them all! They’re such assholes, all of them!”

“Preach!” Christina whoops. “Fuck them!”

Greg looks up from the staff table, probably because one of the teachers told him to contain his hall, and he comes over for a minute, quickly realizing what’s going on. With a mouth full of blueberry muffin, he agrees, “Oh yeah, fuck the Harringtons.”

“Yeah, fuck ‘em,” Stacy repeats, with less conviction. “Come on, let’s see what this thing is.”

She pulls the box toward her. There’s no name on it besides her own, no return address, no nothing. Lottie takes out her hoop earring and hands it to her so she can use the point to slice open the tape, at which point she hands the earring back and rips the box entirely open.

She isn’t entirely sure what she’s expecting. Whatever it is, though, it’s not what she’s actively looking at.

“What is it?” Greg says through another bite of muffin, peering over her.

Inside the box, is a three inch stack of Bop magazines, undoubtedly issues from at least a couple years with the latest on top, some Wonder Woman comic books, an entire rainbow of nail polish, a new hairbrush, some of the soap you could only get from a shop on Main Street in Hawkins, six or seven 3 Musketeers bars (which happened to be her favorite since she was what? five?), an Agatha Christie book, and three cans of Farrah Fawcett hairspray.

“Is it from your parents?” Christina mumbles, lifting the box to check the bottom and sides for a name. She must find nothing, because she sets it back down dejectedly.

“I don’t… I don’t think so? They wouldn’t send stuff like this to me anyway… it’s too… fun.”

The girls dig into the magazines while they finish eating, and Lottie and Christina get in an argument over whether Matthew Broderick or Tom Cruise is objectively hotter and Greg decides for them, siding with both Lottie and Broderick, much to Christina’s dismay. Then bells are ringing and classes are starting, and the group gets separated.

It’s during third period that it happens. One moment she’s taking notes on symbolism in Macbeth, and the next Greg is leaning on the doorway with a satisfied- albeit surprised- smirk.

“Stacy’s call,” he offers in explanation.

It’s a thing at the school, the calls. A lot of kids are from out of state, some are out of country, so the rule is that every kid can get a call from their parents on their birthday during class. Otherwise, they’ve just got to wait until one of the school’s payphones is open to reach home.

The thing that has her staring at him in shock is the fact that her parents haven’t called in literal years. She gets her compulsory card from Donna and a fistful of cash to buy her satisfaction, and that’s the end of the birthday things.

Last year, she lied when Christina asked. Said she got it during chemistry, the only class she didn’t have any friends in. No one to verify or validate. Greg had covered for her when he overheard the lie.

The year before that, Donna had called instead, saying her Father wanted to call but he was in Taiwan and didn’t have any phone reception. Which was also a lie. But she appreciated it anyway. She cried in the shower that night and Olivia had found her She didn’t ask, for which Stacy was grateful, and they were good friends after that. Until they were girlfriends.

So Stacy is more confused than anything else while she follows Greg back to the office phone. She hadn’t really done anything particularly noteworthy in the last little bit; no reason for her parents to remember she was living and breathing, nothing deserving the call. Maybe they want to yell at her and this is the only chance they know for sure they’ll be able to talk to her.

Greg hands her the receiver and she holds it in her hand for a minute, taking a minute to compose herself for the beat down that’s about to come before she lifts it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh! Hi.”

“Dad?” she mutters in surprise.

“God, please don’t tell me I sound that much like him.”

“You don’t,” she assures suddenly, because it’s true that he really doesn’t sound like her father but she isn’t sure who else he could be.

“Um… It’s Steve…”

Oh.

Oh.

“What? Oh my God, why is your voice so deep?”

He laughs softly. “I’m nineteen, Stace.”

And isn’t that just wild. That snotty whiny kid that threw a fit when she was going to start middle school and refused to be seen in the same district as her is a grown man.

All she says is, “Oh wow.”

“Well, I’m calling to say happy birthday. Sorry they took you out of class… I… I didn’t have your schedule so I was trying to guess? Apparently I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Uh, that’s okay,” she murmurs. “It’s kind of a thing around here to be pulled out of class for this anyway.”

“Yeah, it’s your one call for the year, huh?” Suddenly he sounded very small. “I, uh, I tried to call dad. To remind him. But, uh, he changed personal lines and didn’t tell me the new number, and every time I called the company, they just kept rewiring me to Donna, so she gave me the number so I could just call myself. So, um, sorry. It’s just me.”

For just a second, Stacy has that fleeting warmth of being loved, but it’s paired with this agonizing, overwhelming desire. She doesn’t know what for; maybe for him to be like this all the time, maybe for things to be different with their parents, with everything else.

“That’s okay,” she says quickly, trying to sound indifferent. “Thanks for trying anyway.”

“Yeah.” There’s a lapse and he forces out quickly, “Did you get my present? I was trying to time it right so it would get there this morning-“

“That’s from you?”

“Uh, yeah. I hope it’s okay. I didn’t… didn’t really know what to get you, but, uh, the girls I babysit said it was a pretty standard teenage girl gift and they’re like the smartest people I know. But if you don’t like it you can sell the stuff or just give it away and I can send you something else! Just tell me and I’ll get it! I just… when I opened my cash Christmas present I kinda snapped and lost my shit and I figured you’d want something other than cash but I don’t-“

Stacy has about twenty five questions regarding this, starting with “You’re a babysitter?!” but instead she smiles softly at his awkwardness-also so weird for him- and murmurs, “It’s great, Steve. Me and my friends will have a blast.”

“Oh I’m glad. Max said stuff like that is the staple to any good sleepover and boarding school is like an infinite sleepover, right? So I thought I better up the quantity? I don’t know, it made sense to me…”

“Yeah, no, that makes perfect sense,” She agrees quickly. “That’s really… heartfelt.”

“Hopefully it’s better than The Card.”

“God, yeah, they aren’t even trying,” she relays the message from said card, and he snorts.

“You know it’s from Donna, then. Dad’s has never called himself anything other than Richard.”

They laugh about it darkly, and for an instant the solidarity between them is so strong it’s like they were borne from the same soul. Like they aren’t strangers who share a name.

“Hey, listen, Stace,” He adds slowly. “I know you usually go back to the Carolina house or something for summer break- you went to Cabo last year, right? But if… if you want, of course, you don’t have to, but you could come stay with me in Indiana. My friends would love you, you know? I think you’d have fun. It’s not Cabo, but… you know…”

The invitation is weird. Not entirely unwelcome, but bizarre, given that the last time they spoke to each other, they actually weren’t talking to each other.

“Are you dying, Steve?” And she’s only half joking.

He laughs once, awkwardly again. “No. I am very much alive. But, uh, a lot has changed. With everything. Hawkins. Me. You, probably. And it’s stupid that I’ve just been pretending you don’t exist. We don’t… we don’t have to be pitted against each other all the time, you know? We’ve got a common enemy here. And I’m… I’m so sorry about how I was. I’m not like that anymore. At least I’m really trying.”

She swallows back the soft hope building in her throat. “God, they’re such assholes, aren’t they?”

And that’s all it takes. The understanding is so profound it doesn’t need anymore explanation. Especially when Steve adds exhaustedly, “Yes. Yes, they are.”

The treaty is solidified. The olive branch taken.

He asks her a few more questions about her birthday, the standard things, and she tells him about her pancakes and the cupcake she’ll get at lunch and that Greg will probably make the whole cafeteria sing to her, and she pointedly leaves out the plans Olivia has for her tonight and the blunts she bought a few weeks ago for a special occasion. She writes down his number and she seriously considers snagging a payphone and calling him a few times before school gets out.

By the time she hangs up, she walks to fourth period, that she is significantly late for, and when she slides into her seat next to Olivia, she’s got a peculiar little smile that won’t seem to go away.

“Was that your call?” She whispers, even more shocked than Greg.

“Mhm,” She nods dazedly.

“It was your parents? Did they yell at you?”

“It was my brother,” Stacy says softly.

She didn’t think it was possible for Olivia to look more surprised but somehow she manages, eyebrows shooting up and eyes growing wide.

She doesn’t say anything else, instead turning her attention to Mr. Hansen’s lesson, until Olivia elbows her and mutters, “What are you thinking about?”

Stacy grins. “Do you wanna come to Indiana with me this summer?”

#stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #(well at least that’s what I’m picturing she just doesn’t know yet) #GIVE STEVE A SISTER PLEASE #fic #ficlet #steddie fic #(eventually)

[thebetawolfgirl]

Bonding Time pt9

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Smut and then some more smut!

A/N: A bit later than I wanted to post it, but it’s been nonstop today!

Bonding Time part 9

Y/n looked at her outfit in the mirror and sighed as Timmy watched from the bed, she quickly stripped and tossed the dress aside grabbing another one.

‘Baby, you’ve tried eight dresses on so far, just pick one. You will look beautiful no matter what you wear.’

‘I don’t actually know why I’m so stressed out about this. We’ve met with mom’s friends hundreds of times-‘

‘But not as a couple, last time you saw them we were at each other’s throats, literally. Anyway, who cares what your mom’s friends think? None of them can judge.’

‘One of them is Sarah’s mother, Timmy! And Stacey’s mom will be there too you know.’

Timmy rolled his eyes lighting a cigarette. ‘Imagine my fear! I broke it off with Stacey weeks ago. She’ll be with her next plaything already. Not my problem if she hasn’t told her mother yet.’

Y/n finally settled on a blood red halter dress and walked over to him pinching his smoke and putting it out, before he pulled her on top of him kissing her.

‘That’s a lovely dress did someone buy it for you?’ He asked smirking wrapping his arms around her.

She smirked back. ‘Yes my boyfriend did.’

‘Ahh he has good taste.’ He smiled and sat up with her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist.

‘We do this today and that’s us. We’re done with the sneaking around and keeping secrets, we can be ourselves.’

‘That will be nice. Just Sarah to deal with then.’

She played with the buttons of his shirt watching him as he rolled his eyes.

‘Fuck her, she’s insignificant now. If she has an issue after all this time she can complain about it to her therapist. And none of that family can judge, her mother was her father’s apprentice and young assistant who he knocked up while he was still married to his first wife.’

Y/n sighed nodding and pecked his lips gently smiling before moving off him.

‘We need to get going, we don’t want to be late.’

‘I’m going to show you off to everyone. I don’t give a fuck who doesn’t like it. All those old ladies can all go to hell. Except Elaine, of course.’ He smiled standing up and kissed her hand.

She smiled back and left the apartment together.

When they arrived at the restaurant everyone was already seated and were waiting for them before ordering, y/n saw Sarah and Emma were both there and chose to ignore her and squeezed Timmy’s hand for support.

She knew he was curious as to why they were both there but Stacey was nowhere to be seen.

Y/n also knew that Timmy would now be full on with his affection just to rub it in Sarah’s face and she had no issue with that.

Y/n looked around at the surprised faces of her mother’s friends and smiled.

‘Are we ordering then? I’m starving!’

She states grabbing a menu and sharing it with Timmy.

‘Is that all you have to say?’ Sarah blurted out.

‘Are you really going to make a scene, therefore embarrassing your mother in front of all her friends in the middle of a busy restaurant Sarah?’

Sarah stopped and looked over at her mother who was glaring. Y/n leaned over to Sarah’s mother smiling ‘By the way Mrs Winston, I forgot to say when I came in, I love your stole, is it new?’

‘Oh yes, thank you dear for noticing. Mr Winston bought it for me while he was in Italy last month.’

‘It’s so beautiful. It’s so lovely to have someone who spoils you with such wonderful gifts isn’t it?’

She looks over smiling at Timmy, ‘Timmy is always spoiling with lovely things, just last week he surprised me by taking me on a boat ride, with a beautiful view of the entire city. Then we had a picnic in Central park. He’s always doing things like that for me.’

‘Well that’s all that matters y/n, finding someone who cherishes and respects you and treats you like royalty is very important.’ Mrs Winston smiled and patted y/n’s hand as her daughter looked on shocked ‘Mom their parents are MARRIED! It’s wrong!’

‘Love is wrong, Sarah?’ She challenged her daughter with a raised eyebrow.

‘You know, dear if you spent a little less time being so interested in everyone else’s business and began living your own life, you could find a love like theirs. You could find a little bit of happiness of your own.’

Sarah looked down and crossed her arms across her chest now in a huff.

Y/n rolled her eyes at her friend’s childishness and immaturity as the food was set down in front of them.

The fact that Mrs Winston who was the most judgemental woman in her mother’s circle was accepting of them was a huge thing, so y/n relaxed and enjoyed her meal.

Timmy lay his hand on y/n’s leg when the first course was finished and raised it up higher slightly under the hem of her dress.

‘Forgive me, but can someone show me to the little boy’s room?’

Y/n wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood up,

‘I’ll show you, I need to reapply my lipstick anyway.’

She smiled at everyone as she led Timmy to the restrooms, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her into another room off to the side and shoved her against the wall attacking her neck and slid his fingers up her dress.

She gasped loudly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders before pulling him up crushing her lips against his in a hungry kiss, he ran his hands up her thighs and grabbed her ass before pulling her underwear off her as she worked on undoing his belt and pants and shoving them down his legs as he picked her up by her thighs and carried her over to a nearby desk making sure not to trip over his pants around his ankles and lay her down breaking the kiss before burying himself balls deep into her already soaking folds.

She gasps and bit her lip to keep from screaming and dug her nails into the desk underneath her, as she felt him going deep repeatedly driving into her hard enough her entire body rocked against his thrusts.

‘T-Timmy don’t s-stop!’ She stammered panting. She reached up and grabbed his shirt pulling him down and kissed him hard as he tucked his arm under her back and ground his hips against hers before pulling her up to sit on the edge of the desk and grabbed her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved his mouth down her throat pulling her closer against him as he continued to slam his dick into her over and over again.

They fell back together against the table with a dull thud and came in a powerful orgasm together clinging to each other as he buried his face against her neck his hot breath panting against her skin. He lightly dragged his nails down her back leaving light scratch marks on her skin.

She slid her hand up his back under his shirt feeling the damp skin and droplets of sweat rolling down, he hissed against her ear and trails his tongue up her neck before nipping the shell of her ear. She shivered against him catching her breath and wrapped her legs around his waist resting her feet against the edge of the desk as he left wet open mouth kissed along her jaw before reaching her lips and pushed his tongue inside her mouth.

She gripped his jaw and returned the kiss hungrily, running her fingers through his curls.

They broke apart and he helped her up and off the desk before fixing himself quickly, as she fixed her make up and hair, she was looking for her underwear when she saw him with them in his mouth between his teeth looking at her with her devilish gleam in his eye.

She walked over and tried to grab them back but he moved his head away and instead shoved them in his back pocket smirking.

‘You can’t be serious? Timmy give them to me.’ She looked at him shocked as he walked towards the door, she followed him and caught up with him before he could reach for the handle and blocked the door before grabbing him opening his top button and biting down hard on his skin near his collarbone, making him hiss and release a squeak of surprise before he fell against her his forehead against the door behind her as she continued to leave her mark on him.

She was going to be the death of him, he was now completely convinced of it. She was the only woman in this world who could bite him and he became a puddle worth absolutely nothing. She was more addicting than an Class A drug.

In fact who needed Heroin when she bit him that way, she turned his head and kissed him firmly.

She pulled away and opened the door smirking before turning away as he fixed his collar with trembling hands and followed her fixing his hair.

They returned to the table and no one was none the wiser about where they were. In fact when Timmy sat down the women were talking about the latest fashion on the rails right now and Sarah must’ve left early.

Afterwards when they were heading home Timmy wanted to take her back to his where they would have no unwanted visitors and he could have her all to himself tonight.

‘Ok, it would be actually nice to be together without people letting themselves into my apartment as if they live there.’

So they went to his apartment and the moment he got in he had her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom. ‘I want you again!’

He tossed her onto the bed and flipped her onto her stomach and untied her dress from the back before leaning down and biting her shoulder blade making her gasp, she sat up and turned to him grabbing his shirt ripping it open hearing the buttons tear of and scatter everywhere. He grabbed her by her throat before tossing her backwards and removed her dress in one sweep throwing it on the floor and undressed himself, climbing over her.

She ran her fingers up his chest lightly coming to his bite mark and pressing her fingertip against it firmly, making him hiss before pushing into her slowly, making her eyes roll back. He groaned watching her come undone, and began thrusting into her as she reached for him to hold him against her. He melted into her arms his breathing becoming laboured as she held onto him while he thrust into her.

She gasps audibly against his shoulder as she ran her hands down his sides and gripped his hips to signal him to go harder.

She gripped his hips digging her nails into his flesh as he rut in harder than ever, burying his face further against her neck. She knew his waist and hips would be covered in bruises from her fingertips but she had never had him go this deep or hard before.

She ran her hands up his back and dug her nails into his skin scratching him as she panted against his shoulder before leaning down and ran her tongue over his bite mark and he groaned against her and slammed faster into her before grabbing her waist shoving her further up the mattress and flipping them pulling her on top of him without pulling out of her and made her ride him.

She pushed her hands against his chest and rocked against him hard causing the bed to rock against the back wall, as he gripped her waist tightly groaning before he pulled her down and kissed her hard as she rode him as hard as she could.

This was the second time they had gone this intense before, Timmy had rode her so hard today people would definitely see her nail marks on that desk, now she was riding him into the mattress where the bed was moving on it’s own and they both knew the wall behind the bed would be chipped and/or scraped.

It was the fact that people knew now, they wouldn’t need to hide anymore and they could walk around like a proper couple that got them crazy. They came in another earth shattering orgasm panting each other’s names over and over, her hair was sticking to her skin as they tried to catch their breathes, he pulled her up against him and bit down on her neck hard hearing her gasp audibly and grip his hair.

‘Argh! T-Tim.’ He flipped them onto their side and sucked her neck hard making sure to leave a mark, before letting go and kissing up her jawline as she ran her fingers through his curls massaging his scalp, causing him to nuzzle her neck.

‘Y/n.’ He whispers her name like a prayer as he rubs his hands over her back, she pulls on his curls gently causing him to moan her name again. They pulled apart slightly and looked at each other in the dark bedroom before he rolled them letting her lay on her stomach and crawling to lay on her back and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Everyone knew now. Well everyone that was important. They no longer needed to hide. Both their parents new, y/n’s mother’s friends knew, they hadn’t heard anything from Emma but they weren’t too worried about it. Sarah didn’t approve still but they didn’t care about her.

Now it was their own friends group, all they had to do was go ‘public’ so to speak. But this was a whole new adventure they couldn’t wait to explore together.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

@mel-vaz

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timmy x reader #timothee chalamet smut #timothee icons #timmy fanfics #smut smut smut

[soapyghostie]

Hi! i love reading you little stories about danny ‘jed olsen��� johnson!! I was hoping you could make a post about how he would look, like: many body scars, soft muscular body, or strong and tougher kind of body. Hope you understood what i was asking for, i tried to explain it the best i can! <3

You mean like general headcanons? I did a mixture of both his appearance and his personality if that’s okay. There is a link of a visual of what I think Danny looks like at the very bottom. Hope you enjoy!

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

This man has many scars all over his body from his victims trying to defend themselves, but failed. Where he has scars the most is definitely his legs and chest where victims have landed sharp objects deep past his suit, into his skin. I guess his leather suit can’t protect him all the time. He has a giant scar running right through his left eyebrow. Him being the cocky bastard he is, he loves to show it off to his coworkers and make up an insane story for it. The crazy thing is that they actually believe him. 

His gaze can intimidate anyone. He has these stern yellow eyes that will make you shrink into your skin if he glares at you. However, when he gives someone puppy dog eyes, you can’t resist. There’s no way you can say no to those gorgeous yellow eyes. Additionally, I just wanted to say, his eyes make him look cat-like. 😂 

Danny has a very lean body. He has to be strong so he can overpower his victims. However, he isn’t bulky because he also has to be fast and carrying a ton of muscle will slow him down. He definitely works out a lot. I’d say he runs 7-8 miles and hits the gym at least two hours everyday because, let me tell you, he is definitely shredded. (I’m sorry. This headcanon is definitely the runner coming out of me.) 

Danny has short, but fluffy black hair. He makes sure to keep it silky soft so he can easily run his hands through it. Also, to wow the ladies; he knows women love a man with gorgeous, silky hair. Dingus. 

Dude, this man is literally so silent. He can judge which floorboards creak, which doors squeal when opened, what shadows keep him hidden from sight. It’s insane. Literally a god. 

I think we all have gotten a glimpse of how much of an asshole and narcissist he is. He’s extremely mischievous, confident, and thinks he’s the biggest lady-killer. Spoiler alert! He really isn’t no lady-killer: he can’t even get a lady for the life of him. His cheesy pick-up lines and flirting skills are full of crap. He better be glad he has his looks or he’d get himself slapped across the face. 

Danny is a fantastic photographer. He makes sure that any photo he takes is on point. He’s a perfectionist. If he takes a photo, no matter if it’s for work or snapping photos of victims, it has to be perfect or he scratches it out of his camera roll. 

He is a great writer as well. I don’t know why the Roseville Gazette would hire him if he wasn’t. 🤷‍♀️ Anyways, a fucking unit at punctuation. He uses semicolons way too much than he probably should, just like me, and he knows it too. Hey! If it looks good and sounds good then that is all that matters. He’s also a pretty fast typer and always proofreads his writing at least 4 times before turning it in for publishing. He tends to get all his work done before all his coworkers. 

He keeps a journal where he writes important information about his victims: where they live, their daily routines, and stuff like that. He also sketches out what each and every one of his victims looks like next to his notes. 

He’s pretty cold-hearted and has an obsession for fame and recognition. He wants everyone to know who he is and to fear him. He’s addicted to the fear frozen on his victims faces when he calls them and has dozens of pictures of his victims hidden in his nightstand drawer to use for his articles.

Even though he’s a phenomenal journalist, he doesn’t get paid that much so this man literally lives off of ramen. However, he loves himself a nice home cooked meal: anything that takes a long time to cook to be honest. He would cook if he wasn’t so bad at it. 

He loves himself a good bargain; he loves the power they hold over someone. The moment someone breaks their side of the deal, he can break his and they’re over and done with if you know what I mean. 👀

He loves drama. He’ll listen to all the tea and no one will know he’s listening in either. He’ll start spreading it around to all the other coworkers. Now everyone knows the business. That’s why you never whisper shit while Danny is around because he’ll get a hold of that gossip one way or another. 

Danny Johnson visual

Hey you guys! Just a quick note that I’ll get to your requests on Saturday. This was the easiest request in my inbox so I didn’t have to think about what I wanted to write as much as I have to with other requests. I’m just so exhausted from camp, but I wanted to post something new for you guys to read. I hope you enjoyed it.

#slashers #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #horror #dead by daylight x reader #dead by deadlight #dbd killer #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #danny jed olsen johnson #slasher #sophi ghostie writes #ghostface #the ghostface #ghostface x reader #dbd ghostface

[b0nten]

THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE STOPS AT DAWN AND SPINS BACK TO HOLD THE DEVIL

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ being one of five special grades, you learn how to deal with exorcisms, but rarely with loss.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ i was kinda skeptical to post this because i don’t rlly write for jjk but i had this planned out (sloppily) in my notes for so long. i would like to thank @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for inspiring me through their fic if i fell through the floor i’d keep falling to post this (i know we’ve never interacted before so i’m literally so sorry if this comes off as random & makes you uncomfortable) because a) of how much i love that fic and b) of how it reminded me of this and actually motivated me to finish and polish it. also big thanks to my shawtybae ray @httpshujii whom i left traumatized after i asked her to beta-read this fic😭😭

[EXTRAS] ˚⁀➷｡ timeline is probably WAAAAAAAAAY off, especially the shibuya incident/culling game. swearing, a lot of words.

24.12.2017

“you two can’t even tell good and evil apart.”

“doesn’t that guy piss you off, mimiko?”

“nanako, want me to hang him?” the brunette holds her rope tight around the dummy’s neck.

her sister, annoyed by the assistant’s words, hisses. “you guys don’t even know how sorcerers like us are treated in the shitty countryside that doesn’t show up on maps. you do all the good and evil you want. but for us, if geto-sama says so, then black is white and white is black. we believe in the world he sees; and we will hang everybody who gets in the way!” she threatens and they both take their combat positions, ready to strike when, suddenly, footsteps echo through the empty alleyway.

“cut it out, you three.” wind blows though silky hair and a perfume they all recognize takes over the air as all of their faces drop. “don’t bother, ijichi, they’re just as stubborn as their dad.” a smile glides across your lips, but disappears just a few moments later. “ew, my pants are stained with curse juice.”

“mom?” “y/n-san?” they gasp at the same time, and ijichi’s head turns back so fast you could swear you heard his neck snap.

“ ‘mom’ ? y/n-san, what’s going on?” he asks, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“that’s a long story i’ll tell you only if you promise not to snitch to the higher-ups.” you grin at him, patting him on his shoulder as you pass by. “don’t worry, i’m not switching sides.” you reassure, and hear him sigh in relief.

with the speed of light, the twins rush towards you, embracing you in a warm hug.

“miko, please don’t hang my friend, yeah? and you, young lady, what did we talk about, try to be a little less hostile!” you scold, ruffling their hair a little rougher than usual. then, a crash startles all four of you.

“miguel? what the hell are you doing!” the light-brunette shouts, rolling her eyes once the man’s ironic response reacher her ears.

“ugh, ” you can only do the same, brows furrowing when another familiar face pops up, “satoru, pipe down! and pleaaaaase try to not kill him!” you shout to grab gojo’s attention, dragging out the plead.

“when you ask me so nicely, i guess i can make an exception for you, bestie boo!” he shrugs, winking with his only uncovered eye.

ignoring the antics that you’re so used to, your attention falls back on the girls.

“you two, ” you start, clapping your hands closed and dragging your right hand as to conjure a katana. then, you scrape a circle with it in the cobblestone, “i’ll teleport you somewhere safe, i don’t like where this is going, and i gotta clean up some of the curses suguru let loose around here. be careful, i love you.” you wave as a big fire sphere rushes up from the ground, building a barrier between you. before the girls can say anything else, they disappear completely. “ijichi, text me the date and time and i’ll be there. gotta get to kusakabe as soon as i can or he may need to get his diaper changed.”

you laugh, dissipating into a puddle of black, while your underclassman still can’t believe what he’s witnessed.

15.10.2008

you know that what you’re about to do is rash and irrational, and possibly clearly also considered treachery in the jujutsu world. the fact that nobody had already caught wind of what you were up to was and still is in itself a miracle, but you could narrow it down to them thinking you were still grieving; and truth be told, you still kind of were, trying to do it the best you could. healing fresh wounds is never easy and recovering from a break-up that didn’t directly happen is sometimes like trying to sew shut a deep wound with cotton thread.

and that’s what kept you going in the most excruciating year of your life: your wounds deserve to close properly, and it is within your right to be able to run your fingers across your skin, without fearing they’ll plunge deep into your chest and dreading to take them out knowing they’ll be covered in blood and the smell of a broken heart.

so you step, determined and furious to get your cause across. you bang your fists on the big door, and a chubby man of middle age greets you at the entrance.

“what’s your name? do you have an appointment?” he questions, and you answer with the same western bullshit name you gave when you rang them up to book said ‘appointment’. he turns a few pages in his clipboard and finally his face lights up.

“yes, please, come in!” his arm is stretched out in a gentlemanly manner, signaling for you to enter. and you do, something bubbling in the pit of your stomach. excitement? no, that’s almost impossible. hate? hurt? the wish for vengeance you have so obsessively dreamed about? you’re not sure about any of those. when you step into the room, though, you feel nervous. like you’re walking on the thin glass shards of your broken youth — the one that got spat and shat on by the same world that made geto spiral into his madness — stolen mercilessly by the greediness of the higher-ups.

“geto-sama will come in shortly!” he explains, and you gather all your composure to ensure you won’t vomit right then and there.

“he calls himself geto-sama now?” you wonder, and although you haven’t said it out loud, the title still leaves a bitter feeling on your tongue. you imagine maybe that’s what curses taste like to suguru.

“welcome, miss— oh.“ full of confidence he struts from behind two curtains, and when he sees you, his gaze softens and you swear you can catch a glimpse of the boy you lost an autumn ago. “it’s so nice to see you, y/n!” he calls out and picks up his pace, almost rushing to you. “i’m so glad it’s not one of those monkeys! sometimes i get nauseous from seeing them all the time!” he face-palms, then beams, and takes your hands in his, leaving a kiss on your temple, lastly pulling you close to him like he always did, even before he vanished.

you think you’re going to be sick again, watching him act all nonchalant and normal, as if nothing has happened. “how dare he?” you think, feeling the anger pierce your stomach walls, and settling in your throat. how can he act like this? like you’re still high-school sweethearts, like he’s just come back from a mission and you’re standing at the school gates, ready to welcome him back. your brain almost freezes, heart urging you to stay like that, but mind screaming at you to pull away from him.

so, against your heart’s wishes, you tear away from him. “monkeys? that’s what you call them now, suguru?” you click your tongue in annoyance, a habit he knows you have whenever you’re about to get petty. “what happened to civilians, non-sorcerers, humans, people?” you ask, blank face staring daggers into his soul.

“my love, they’re all just monkeys.” your once-lover says with the same nonchalance, “don’t bother being all so formal with them. they can’t even use jujutsu, like we do, so—“ before he can say anything else, you cut him off, something similar to a mix of anger and sadness in your voice.

“don’t call me that, suguru.” your voice cracks a little, eyebrows furrow and your heartbeat picks up its pace, and you think maybe your legs are going to give out on you any minute now. “i’m not here to play happy family reuinted.” you almost choke on your words. “i—”

“geto-sama!!! geto-sama!!!” a panicked, feminine voice comes from behind the curtains, and soon enough, two young girls emerge from them. one has light brown hair, the other’s is a little darker than shoko’s. they can’t be older than 6, 5 if you dare to overthink. the former is dragging her sister by her hand, and the latter is holding a plushy tight against her chest, stumbling here and there.

“what’s wrong, you two?” he asks gently, crouching down to their level. you remember how he used to speak to you the same whenever you came back from a mission sad or displeased and your heart drops at how easy it is to break down your walls and have memories growing like ice flowers in the archives you vouched to burn off your mind.

“mimiko—“ her gaze averts to you and ricochets into the ground, small figure balancing from foot to foot as she apologizes, “oh, i’m sorry for interrupting.”

when you look at them, you can’t help but smile. they look so… sweet. so innocent. what are they doing here? “that’s alright, you don’t have to pardon yourself, it seemed urgent.” with a motherly sympathy you didn’t know you held within you, you explain. with the corner of your eye, you see a smile bloom on geto’s face.

“ohmygod!” the same one calls out to her sister in a not-so-subtle whisper. “that’s the lady whose picture geto-sama has! the one he told us about!”

“nanako… you can’t say that when she’s in front of us… it’s rude.” mimiko half-heartedly scolds her sister.

you can’t help the blush from creeping up your cheeks or the laugh from escaping your lips.

“y/n, these are nanako and mimiko.” suguru explains and nudges them forward. “girls, this is y/n, but you already knew.” he smiles again, abstaining himself from laughing at his own semi-bad joke. “they’re…” he continues. “they’re my epiphany, the reason i left the useless jujutsu world and started to make my own.”

you try to ignore the last part of his introduction and his sickeningly smug grin, and you crouch down too, in order to observe them from closer proximity. “nice to meet you both.” you say, warmly, and touch the floor with your hand. a puddle of black forms around it and you awkwardly rummage through the void. soon enough, you pull out two candy-bars.

“i hope you two like macadamia nuts and chocolate. unfortunately it’s all i have right now.” you apologize with a sheepish smile, handing them the sweets. they look at geto to seek approval, and when he nods enthusiastically, they accept your gift with lots of giggles and bright grins.

suguru’s heart skips a beat before it melts. he really is touched you’re showing his daughters so much kindness, but he’s even happier he sees the same candy-bars you ate in high school. he feel nostalgic, even though he knows it’s only been a year. but just like in his case, he thought a year might have been significant change for you too.

the tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the door. “geto-sama, i’m terribly sorry to disturb, but your next appointment is here.” an assistant calls out, and geto is visibly annoyed.

“tell them to wait for a little bit. we’re still not ready to wrap up.” he commands, outside going silent instantly. “i am so sorry to cut this short, y/n.” he says, admitting regret, “you are welcome to drop by any time you want. and you don’t have to use a fake name.” he’s hopeful now, he’s even more confident, and he steps closer to you.

but as if you two are magnets of the same polarity, your body forces you to take a step back. his gaze saddens and something like despair flashes briefly across his face. it almost reads like “please come by again. please.” almost like a desperate plead.

“i’ll see.” is the only response you can give before turning around and heading to the door. before you open it, you look back at the three of them. “nanako, mimiko, it was nice to meet you.” you say, softness for the two canceling out whatever uncomfortable feelings you had before.

“you too, y/n-sama! please come by again!” they both say back, waving as you leave the room. a peculiar tickle renders your body almost perplexed when you hear the honorific.

you navigate through the temple like you’re trying to find the exit of a maze, but when you’re outside, you take a deep breath of fresh air. your hand travels up to wipe the shells of the tears forming in your eyes and you swear you can smell the blood that’s gushing from your still unclosed wounds, sewn again with cotton thread.

“they’re my epiphany.”

they’re his epiphany.

you replay the scene in your head, and feel desperate the more you chant the mantra, as if your ego has not only been broken, but sanity stripped away from you. then, your thoughts are broken by your phone ringing. flipping up the cover, you try to play everything off as normal.

“shoko?” you say, “is everything alright?”

“i should be the one asking you that.” her tone is sharp, “is everything alright with you, y/n?” it softens, and like a dam about to break lose, you sniffle and answer out.

“no.” it’s clear, it’s there, you said it. you don’t have to pretend.

“come over. i miss having my girl around.” she says, and you giggle.

“you’re lucky i’m in the area. i’ll be there in fifteen, girlfriend. and stop talking to me like im one of your hoes.”

she just laughs manically before ending the call. you smile, and go.

10.04.2009

you don’t know for sure if whatever you feel against nanako and mimiko is compassion or pity. or maybe hatred, sometimes disguised as jealousy. but ever since geto said that, there is this little voice in the back of your head that keeps playing the same sentence, like your mind’s a broken record.

“he chose them over you.”

“he chose them over you.”

“he chose them over you.”

“he chose them over you.”

“he chose them over you.”

you’re not sure how to feel. they’re kids. they’re young, they didn’t coax him into starting this. maybe they were just caught in the crossfire, you like to guess. maybe they were the last straw.

or maybe, you were simply not good enough, which, in all honesty, was hard to accept. being a special-grade sorcerer that came from nothing isn’t easy. someone’s always on your back, refusing to get off; from the higher-ups to one’s parents. it’s hard to live up to pre-made expectations, and carry burdens on an already-cracked spine, but you’ve always been strong — so strong even gojo pissed his pants sometimes — so what happened? what made him resort to this?

finally, after looking through the things he left behind in his room, you came to understand geto didn’t leave because he wanted to, he left because that was what it came to. and slowly, you accepted that the twins really were nothing more than two girls caught in a crossfire, that geto somehow saved. his last mission, it must’ve been excruciating, he must’ve seen hell in its true form (again) or death itself in front of him (for the third time) when he went to that village and slaughtered it mercilessly.

that was actually the case, as you come to learn. after six months you build up the courage to visit again, this time unannounced, this time without a purpose. you were sure it’d be left unserved anyway, like the last one. so, when suguru welcomes you into the room once more, you make small talk. and ask about his life, sometimes trying not to gag when he makes disgusting remarks about “monkeys”.

and voluntarily, he tells you the girls’ story after they fall asleep on your lap, dead exhausted thanks to the running around they did. you learn their past, and see something ignite in suguru that makes you think. if you had been there, would you have done the same? would you have stopped him, or joined him? he did nothing wrong, he killed abusers. he killed people that beat two defenseless children, something he shouldn’t have been persecuted for, you thought. this whole monkey thing, tough, something else, another story. but maybe, just maybe had somebody heard him out, he wouldn’t be staying across from you dressed in robes but instead you would’ve been sitting in an apartment you bought with all the money you saved up, all four of you cradled next to the other watching tv with the volume off as to not wake up the sleeping girls. and maybe, just maybe, satoru would have found the fushiguro-zen’in boy and his sister that he’s so serious on finding and they’d come over and play together, while you, shoko and sometimes utahime and mei gossip on the couch and suguru, satoru, nanami and ijichi hang out in the kitchen.

if it weren’t for your teenage heart and forgiving soul, you wouldn’t have begged geto to consider your idea.

“i can try and negotiate a deal for you.” you’re serious, and not about to give up, no matter what he says. “i’ve been taking extra missions, suguru. they like me, they started to value my opinion in the last two years.” you say, and your eyes gloss over when you look at him.

“y/n…” he sighs. “this is my choice. i’m content living like this.”

you break a little.

“don’t say that suguru. it’s not too late, you know? i can vouch for you, i can make sure nanako and mimiko are safe, if that’s what you’re actually concerned about. i will take extra shifts, i will fight for you.” you start to crack and chip off at the edges. “in the end, you did nothing wrong killing those villagers, but that’s something they’re just gonna look away from because you killed non-sorcerers. hateful, filthy, non-sorcerers that deserved their fate.” you say, gritting and swearing behind teeth, jaw clenched and breathing like your lungs are glued together.

suguru always liked your sense of justice. it was always strong, defined, your moral compass was as clear as the sky on the first day you were transferred to jujutsu high. it was refreshing to see someone like you, that fought, no matter what; that gave herself up for the cause she wanted to prove. you would’ve killed yourself if it meant judgement had been served correctly, and even if it meant losing yourself on the way, you loved standing up for what was right. you’d tear at yourself so everybody could be happy. and he could see it in your eyes, the way they shine with the beauty of a thousand galaxies and the passion of a hundred suns, radiating hope, even after all that you’ve been through. you’re hope, you’re love, you’re light, ready to sacrifice herself just so others could grasp that spark even for a little while. ah, as long as…, like you said in your heydays, cigarette between teeth as geto lit it for you, shoko boo’d in the background and satoru annoyed nanami but entranced haibara, holding the world in your hands, ready to blast another wall, to save another soul, to make another life-source. you were temperance and the tower all in one, the embodiment of balanced destruction, the origin of damaged harmony. you ate, chewed and spit yourself out so everyone could see that you were raw — you were like them — you were all the same, kids with power and jobs too big for ages that didn’t even bloom correctly yet.

but this time, he can’t let you do that. you can’t be his divine intervention anymore, you can’t make a catastrophe of your life just to build his anew. he had chosen his way the day he committed mass murder, roots of his goal planted deep inside his hatred for non-sorcerers, and it was far too late to go back, no matter what you said or could have said or say, his life is now with his cult. and he looks at you, with his girls cradled in your lap and wonders of the life you could have had, had amanai’s death not taken such a toll on him. he never told you, but he wanted you to meet her. she would’ve absolutely adored you, no doubt, and vice-versa.

sometimes he wakes up in the morning and you’re not next to him and then he imagines it too: a little house in meguro, and he’d wake up at the crack of dawn and look at you sleeping peacefully beside him, then he’d get up and cook breakfast. he envisions evening walks in spring, when the cherry blossoms bloom, and nanako and mimiko running wildly along the river banks, and you shouting after them to be careful. his heart swells with what if’s and maybe’s but he remembers that in his world, he can achieve that. and he doesn’t have to worry about any of you three being in danger either.

you feel the need to change the topic. you feel the regret floating around in the air — you feel the wound you tried to sew shut so many times miserably — and it reeks of fresh blood and sweet tea and plum blossoms and the winter he confessed his feelings.

“let me help you get them to bed.” you smile, and he reciprocates. he takes nanako from your lap softly as not to disturb her sleep, and guides you to their room.

you find yourself kissing their foreheads as if they’re your daughters, as if you hadn’t met them only two times in your life, and suguru finds himself too close to you. you think he’s too close to you too, but right now, in this shit you’ve dragged yourself into, you don’t care at all anymore.

so you kiss him, you lift yourself up on your toes enough for him to already know what you’re doing and to bend down. electricity sparks and you see yourself in the middle of snowy shibuya crossing yet again, people going on about their day while you pour your hearts out to the other silently, carnally, with chapped lips falling against each other, devouring the curse of love with gluttony, and freezing hands tangled in the intimacy of two sixteen year olds dumb enough to think they’re able to write their own destiny.

that’s why you continue to visit. in the rest of 2009, 2010, 2011, and so on. between what you lost that you never even had, and the brief moment of serenity of feeling like a family with geto and the girls, you finally feel like you have something to live for.

it goes without saying that it still frightened you — if anyone were to find out where you were going, who you were going to — they all may have been put in danger. but the moment the big, wooden door to the temple opens and two smiley faces jump into your arms while the boyfriend you never had the guts to break up with greets you sweetly, all the worry dissipates. you were not there “to play happy family reunited”, you had found a family. and as twisted life had layed itself out for geto, maybe yours wasn’t that far from it either.

so, once a month you come, with gifts, with candy, with love and worry and whatnot. you’re there to see the twins grow up, sometimes you help suguru cut their hair, to navigate through all the stages of girlhood you experienced too — well, almost all, since it’s kind of hard to give them really everything when their dad is a wanted mass murderer in a world over half of the population doesn’t even know exists. but you’re there, and you’re happy when you’re with them. they’re your sun.

and it goes like that for years, you come, you laugh, and you leave. sometimes before you leave, geto kisses you chastely, and sometimes more, which means you stay the night, and he partially sees his dream come true the next morining; and he loves it, he can’t wait to get it done, but he feels guilty. guilty for the plan he’s come up with and guilty knowing you’re gonna be on the opposite side, no matter what.

when the girls turn eight, they start calling you ‘mom’, to your and geto’s surprise. but they like it, and honestly, so do you and so does their dad. it’s random, but it feels natural, it feels warm. suguru’s heart sinks, and he thinks he can keep his plan hidden and pushes it back a few more years, until he can’t anymore. so, on the twins’ eleventh birthday, a beautiful day of 2013, it’s the last time you come. you try to talk him out of it, but no matter how many pleads and promises and compromises, his decision is still the one he told you. that day, when you leave and look back with a fake smile at the kids waving at you from the door, the wind feels sharper on your face and the air is definitely colder than what it was supposed to ever be. you go to the bar and drown out your sorrows, glass after glass after glass after glass after glass until you’re numb. and even in the numbness, there’s still an aching pain, like a scorching dagger has been stabbed through your heart, burning the skin and muscle and everything in between on its way to bring you down. you wonder if that’s what curses feel when they’re exorcised.

so, while nanako and mimiko ask about you and why their mom isn’t coming anymore, you bury yoursef in work. you kill, you start to teach, you do paperwork. satoru comes over sometimes and when you look at him, you can only cry. shoko comes over more than sometimes, and when you look at her you can also only cry. they both hug you and sometimes cry with you too: a pity party. nanami writes to you a lot, and when you read his messages you also cry. sometimes you go to visit him, and he looks at you with a disgusting look. he knows you haven’t broken records these past few months because of your love for jujutsu, but because of the hate you bear for it. his heart shatters seeing his senior like this. so, he pours you tea and gets you the cookies you always loved, stashed next to a framed picture of you three — you, him and haibara.

kento always thought you were like glue. you kept everyone together. and although him and yu were only your juniors, you made them feel like they were your brothers. you brought together the jujutsu world so closely, you made it seem like it could work, until nobody was there to help you, even though you tried so hard. it was like a mirage, but so closely and delicately conjured one could swear it was real — maybe that was your true domain expansion — and you would’ve killed yourself if that meant it’d be kept intact, and you kind of did, because at the price of your own well-being, you took care of the others. you worked overtime so gojo had less missions to go on, helped nanami get out of jujutsu and welcomed him right back with open arms and broken heart that still needed mending desperately, and helped shoko with med school until she decided she’d just cheat herself into getting her eligibility.

and you’re a wreck, so you browse pictures in your phone of you, suguru and the girls, you frame them but keep them away from the world’s eyes, god knows who may find them and put you on death-row too. you look at them and feel like you’re mourning geto a second time around, but this time you’re also mourning.. your kids. the kids who called you mom, who sometimes called you up at night when they had some “girl problems” they couldn’t tell suguru right off the bat, the girls that asked you to sew their ripped clothes, and who watched you and geto do that side by side.

you didn’t understand how suguru came to that conclusion, to push you away for good. you never tried to erase his ideology from the girls’ minds, you simply mothered them. you loved them, trained them, you loved him, so what was up with him?

geto feels miserable too. he lost you once, and now he’s lost you twice. he’s rougher with his monkeys, he feels like he’s mourning once again too. and when he looks at nanako and mimiko he cannot stop his heart from ripping apart. they look at pictures of you. every single day, there’s not one that passes when he doesn’t want to call you and tell you to come back. to be the glue, to love him and his daughters, to make them laugh and jump and smile and make him feel warm and fuzzy inside all again. for the first time in his life, he has doubts about his dream world, because when he looks at the once so cheerful duo, sad while holding your picture, and when he remembers the tears in your eyes and how you wiped them away quickly when they came to hug you goodbye, he wants to kill himself like you always did for your cause. he wants to make the devil chew him and spit him out for forgetting you are just like him too — flesh, bones, and misery.

so, for once in his new life, geto does something he never thought he would do — he compromises. exactly 364 days after he forbids you from coming by again, he tells the twins they can go out in the world and enjoy their life. maybe they’ll go looking after you, he thinks, he hopes, and he sees their faces light up and they see his do the same. “but don’t talk to monkeys when it’s not necessary!” he orders, no, he asks. he can’t order his children around.

and mimiko and nanako go out in the world, alone, for the first time, the following day. geto asks them to buy any cake they want, to celebrate for when they come back. so they head to the bakery that breached the barriers of what they knew, once every thirty days: they mostly knew the universe geto had created for them, and once a month came clashing down an asteroid, with flowers, sweets and everything the cult didn’t really have, their mother.

so, after almost getting lost thrice on the metro, when they enter the minimalist store they searched on google maps because they kept a cardboard box of sweets you once brought over, and see your tired figure, tears in your eyes as you mouth and explain the kanji of their name to the lady with the piping bag in her hand, their eyes swell and they can only weakly sob “mom..?”, unsure if it’s actually you or a mirage.

when your head snaps in the direction of the door and you see the two kids you missed so badly in a year, you stare at them blankly. you’re afraid to get close to them, thinking maybe they’re just a shadow created by the months of exhaustion, but when mimiko asks if you remember them, you break down crying, embracing them while they weep on your shoulder too. “how could i not?” you stifle between sniffles and feel them hug you even tighter. it’s almost like movie scene, and even the cashier is on the verge of tears.

when you pull away, you’re all red-eyed and stuffy-nosed, hair a mess and hearts clammy. “let me pay for the cake first, and we can go to my place, yes?” you say and they both nod like they did when you weren’t quite as closely acquainted yet.

“we also have to buy a cake..” nanako says, “could you help us?”

you don’t hesitate and pull them to the refrigerator to chose. “what was the one you always bought?” mimiko asks, heart thumping in her chest. “well, it’s the one i have over there, but they’re actually order-only.” you say, eyeing the cake, sad. the twins bite their lips and scan whatever’s left in the display window.

“excuse me,” the lady jumps in, trying to regain composure too “we have cupcakes with that same filling, if it’s any better!” she says, “and they’re 20 percent off if you buy more than 10! and 50 for more than twenty!”

“then we’d like 24 of them, please.” you say, twins’ faces dropping.

“24? isn’t that too much?” nanako chokes out, and her sister giggles a bit at her expression.

“not at all, no, no!” you reassure, patting their heads. “and don’t even dare to pay me back.” you half-heartedly threaten when the other one reaches into her pocket to take out her wallet. “put it back, miko.”

and so, you get to patch up your heart a little bit. you buy them candles, and they blow them on the cupcakes, and take pictures and laugh about whatever.

and it was like this a lot, because whenever they came over to yours they begged you to tell them about your teenage years and show them everything you did. and, because you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away the years of beauty you had documented on film and paper, you showed them everything, accompanied by cups of tea from porcelain haibara bought you from missions he went on, and cakes and biscuits and all the snacks they asked for (thank god you always kept some stashed for satoru).

pictures of you, satoru, suguru, shoko, nanami, haibara, mei and utahime. they were all there — immortal in the plastic of the polaroids and untouchable in the albums — and no one could steal away those precious moments. you showed them pictures of every kind, going on missions and late night hang-outs in your dorms, they gasped at the sight of geto smoking and laughed at the hairstyles you did on him. in the span of weeks and months of two years, you showed them the person you had fallen in love with, and the friends that welcomed you with open arms in tokyo.

of course they were especially keen on pictures of you and geto, fangirling over the “couple pictures”, the ones shoko took of you both when you weren’t watching and later on gave to you. you showed them satoru’s first hangover, and how their dad held his hair back as he was vomiting his hollow purple into the toilet, and the selfie you and shoko took, a little less hungover, leaning against the stalls.

you showed them videos of you all rehearsing your techniques and geto protecting nanami from gojo’s annoying teenage ass.

you took them to disneyland and rode with them on all the rollercoasters they wanted, and took so many photos you bought nanako a picture-only phone. each of you hung them up in your homes, and sometimes suguru stumbled upon the girls’ pictures when he went into their room, and cried over your portrait upon seeing you in a winnie the pooh headband almost identical to the one he wore when he first took you there in high school.

and although, physically, it weren’t four of you gathered around the table anymore, you still laughed together and you felt free, until 2017 came along.

it was maybe early november when you got the call from satoru, away on business in sapporo. it sounded urgent, and first and foremost, he sounded scared. not frightened, but rather desperate, like he didn’t know what to do. therefore, on your first day back in tokyo, you went to see him.

“just rip the bandaid off, satoru.” you say, gently.

“geto has declared war on us.”

you’re left dumbfounded, tea cup shaking in your hand. you can only blink, awaiting gojo to say more. to give you more information.

“he came by the day i called you. said he’d unleash a thousand curses in kyoto and shinjuku on christmas eve. wanted yuta to join him and belittled maki.”

you put down your cup, head resting in your palms. it feels like a bad dream. you knew what to expect of him, that sooner or later he’d act on his crazy dreams of a non-sorcerer free world, but hoped it would be a lot later than this.

“was he alone?” you ask, gojo’s face making a funny look.

“no, two girls that wanted to eat crepes on takeshita and a shirtless guy.” he explains, “why do you ask?”

this time, you lie to him. you can’t let him know you’ve committed treachery for almost a decade now. “then we should also expect some counter-attack from them, not just some curses running loose.” you explain, and gojo nods approvingly.

“you’re right. we should be careful then, especially with the managers.” he says, and you only bob your head a ‘yes’. “y/n” his voice softens, and round shades peel from his face, “don’t do this to yourself.” he crouches down next to you, hand caressing your shoulder. when he feels your muscles tense, he welcomes you with open arms and you cry on his shoulder for a good ten minutes. when he feels you’ve calmed down, he unlocks his phone and dials a number. it doesn’t ring for long, and he speaks, “hey, emo girl. come over. we’re having a reunion.” he laughs, “y/n’s sad, so you do the maths on how manny bottles you bring.” he says, regretting instantly. “wait, don’t you think five is too much, shoko? hello? shoko? agh, fuck you, girl.” you laugh, and so does he, stroking your back once more. “everything’s gonna be okay, babygirl.”

“dont you ever call me that again.”

the next day, you wake up with your phone blowing up, next to shoko, in gojo’s bed. “answer the fucking phone already.” she groans, and you do, but not before kicking her side.

“yes?” without even looking at the caller id you speak, head spinning from all the alcohol (two bottles and a half, each) and voice hoarse from the packs of cigarettes each one of you smoked the previous night. (three, each.) there goes shoko’s quitting.

“mom? you’re not answering the door, are you okay?” nanako speaks from the other side and you instantly jump out of bed, startling your friend.

“i’ll be there in… fifteen. please wait.” you say and hang up after hearing a positive answer.

you dart from the apartment, hugging gojo on your way out, explaining something came up.

you drive through the city with the speed of light, getting home not just in time, but seven minutes early, and the twins hug you when you see them. when they sit you down on the couch to tell you something, your heart sinks, because you can already feel what it is.

“geto-sama declared war on the college last week.” the fawn haired admits, and the other just looks down at the ground.

“i know.” is all you say, trying to hold back tears.

“we’re really sorry. and if you don’t want to see us again, it’s alright, we, we get it.“ mimiko says, words pulled out of her mouth with prongs, almost unable to finish her sentence.

“don’t you ever think something like that.” you snap, dam breaking behind your eyes. “i saw you all this time despite not agreeing with suguru’s ideology, but you’re still my kids too, you know? i have also done some parenting these last ten years.”

it’s bittersweet, and they feel it too, and they cry too, because from being rescued by suguru to seeing the stranger lady walk into their temple every month and showing them the kindness only geto ever did, you became their mother. you stuck by them, always looking over your shoulder whenever you visited them and taking extra precautions whenever they visited you. you were their asteroid, you were their world, and although geto hurt you, not once, but twice, you still loved him and them like you were there when he saved them.

and they always saw the broken youth and undreamt dreams that hid behind your eyes, so motherly, so tender and reassuring albeit living no better than a fugitive. their lives were less stressful than yours, because you sacrificed yourself to come see them. maybe out of fear of losing geto yet again, or denial, but whatever you may have feared, you always put your little beautifully broken and beloved family above all else, bravely so.

“just promise me you’ll both be careful.” is all you say before they collapse in your arms. and you stand there, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes and the blood of the wound you thought closed up.

“we will, no matter what.”

24.12.2017

you walk into jujutsu high and can’t believe your eyes. you’re tired from killing curses and giving kusakabe a pep-talk every ten minutes, but you don’t think this is all in your mind: smashed cobblestone, holes in the ground. and blood, lots of blood.

you run into the infirmary, shoko’s door flying open as she lets out a half-scream.

“what’s your problem?” she asks, partly annoyed.

“i’m sorry for worrying about my students after i babysat a grown man all day.” you reply, and she laughs, “atsuya again, huh? too bad he’s actually talented, that crybaby persona gets too much somtimes. they’re all safe, yuta used rct on them, but gojo wants to talk to you.” she says.

“is he in the common lobby?” you ask, and she nods approvingly.

when you enter the room, you feel a chill creep up your spine. satoru is still, way too still.

“y/n.”

“satoru.”

he gulps down saliva before asking you the question. “did suguru have daughters?” he says, and you answer, mindless.

“yeah, he has tw—“ then it dawns on you. “satoru?” he sees it too. in the small crack of your voice, some glass shards hitting the linoleum. “satoru, don’t tell me,” you’re on the verge of tears. your throat is dry, stomach doing flips. “oh my god.” you gasp, legs turning into sand, and he rushes to catch you.

“he told me to take care of the three of you, and i didn’t understand and i thought about the crepe girls and then you of course and.. you and.. i… i’m sorry, y/n. i didn’t want it to end like this.” he spits out word after word, boulder rolling off his shoulder, letting himself cry in your embrace.

“no one did, satoru. i’m never gonna blame you for his death, yeah?” your eyes start to water too. he’s still the boy that lost his best friend, you’re still the girl that lost her boyfriend, shoko is still the one that lost a best friend, and you’re all three still teenagers, waiting for someone to guide you through the loss.

you stand like that for a while, until you both calm down.

“thank you.” gojo satoru, the strongest, smiles through tears he’d only ever shown a handful of people.

“thank you, boywonder.” you smile through tears you’d only ever shown a handful of people.

“i have to talk to yaga.” he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily before hugging you goodbye.

you sit down in your chair and watch the sun set. through the window, maki, yuta, panda and inumaki wave at you. you reciprocate, thankful they’re still alive, when all of a sudden your phone rings.

“mom?” the moment you answer, mimiko’s voice cracks on the other end. she usually isn’t one to call, so you’re guessing you know what this is about.

“i’m coming.” you say between your own small shallow breaths, waving the students goodbye through the window once again. you make another quick phone call before leaving campus.

“yes?”

“megumi, gojo’s had a rough day and i can’t spend time with him tonight. shoko also has to do overtime at the morgue. can you keep him company for a bit?”

he sighs. “yeah, i will.”

“thank you.”

“sensei… take care. you’re a great sorcerer…and a great person. just felt like you needed to hear that.”

“thank you, megumi. you too, kiddo.”

31.10.2018

“you know this was reckless, yeah?”

“we’re sorry for keeping you in the dark so long. it’s just — we knew you would’ve stopped us if we told you kenjaku took over geto-sama’s body, and we really want him to have a proper burial.” the brunette clutches her phone to her chest, eyes fixed on the ground.

“we didn’t mean to keep you in the dark so long, but you were already grieving geto-sama for the second time. we didn’t think you’d find out like you did.” mimiko apologizes too, and even though they stand in front of you, apologizing for the biggest mistake they have ever made, you can’t scold them. not when they thought about you, about easing your pain.

“you guys did a stupid thing, that’s all i’m gonna say.” the pause and sigh you take between sentences make them want to burry themselves into the ground, “but i’m not mad, because you did it with good intent.” your voice softens and their gazes come up, meeting your face. “i’m gonna help you, but please wait until i come back.”

their faces lighten as you stroke their hair, stopping when your phone rings.

“ijichi? itadori? alone? shibuya? what’s he doing there? he’s supposed to be in harajuku station with mei ” they read between the words, knowing exactly who this itadori is, “i can’t, i really have enough curses to fight, the meiji-jingu area by itself is packed.” you apologize with gritted teeth and exhausted breath, “i’ll enter the curtain when i’m done, and send you guys some back-up,yeah?”

you look at the twins again, wanting to instinctively crouch down to their level, but they’ve gotten too tall for that. “please, don’t go out. and if you do, be careful, and stay safe. don’t do anything rash.” you say, embracing them both. “i love you two so much.” you hold onto them a bit longer than usual, kissing their cheeks before unlocking the door.

“we love you too.” they say in unison, and smile.

“be careful, yeah? lock the door after i teleport.”

“always.” is the last thing you hear before disappearing.

9.11.2018

“come on, pick up, pick up, pick up…”

you bite your nails in frustration. it’s been a week since the culling game has started, a week since gojo got sealed, since nanami died. since maki got burned. and the biggest act of jujutsu terrorism happened in less than 24 hours under your very noses. a lethal battle royal, where everyone has to kill each other.

it’s been a full week since neither of the twins have contacted you. they don’t respond to their texts either. for mimiko it was normal, she didn’t really use her phone as much as her sister, but when nanako, whose cursed technique is all about using her phone, doesn’t have it, then that’s when you start to worry.

“sensei…” megumi walks up next to you, visibly worried, “who are you looking for? maybe we can help?”

you’ve known megumi ever since gojo found him, and met tsumiki a few times too. you helped gojo train him, something that turned out useful because of your somehow similar cursed techniques: his ten shadows and your use of void space were easy to adapt to the other. you had grown close, especially because of your shared annoyance for his guardian. yet, he never once met your daughters. you would’ve loved to introduce them to each other, mimiko would have been thrilled to have another just as quiet friend of her age and nanako would have loved to bother the two of them. still, you didn’t. you couldn’t, because that would mean explaining to gojo why you have two kids with you and (while still visiting the temple) possibly needing to convince suguru to let you take them out, and even a possible slip-up would’ve meant all hell breaking loose. though sometimes you thought maybe not, since it wasn’t non-sorcerers you were wanting to befriend them with, but it was still too risky. higher-ups had eyes everywhere, and you didn’t want to risk being labeled as foe.

“y/n-sensei, fushiguro’s right!” yuuji chimes in, making you laugh a little bit, “tell us, maybe we’ve seen the person!”

“and once we’re done speaking with master tengen, we can help you search for them.”

“you too, yuki?” you sigh, still spamming the call button.

“that’s tsukumo-senpai to you!” she jokes.

“ugh, someone, take this thing away already! it keeps buzzing way too much!” a hole opens on itadori’s hand, sukuna groaning some curse words and spitting a cell phone out, full of annoyance and disgust.

your heart drops and your mind blurs as you look at it. green, silicone, bunny ears.

“sensei?” yuuta now directs his attention to you too. “sensei, what’s wrong?” he seems worried, and so do the rest of them.

“what’s that?” choso points to the green rectangle on the ground, crouching and flipping it around. they all look at the screen, which reads “mom”.

“that’s a cellphone, choso!” yuki explains.

“that’s — that’s nanako’s cellphone.” you stammer, collapsing to your knees. “yuuji, when— how? this is bad, bad, bad, bad..” you think out loud, voice shakier with every word as you flip the phone from one side to the other. “she-she can’t use her technique without her phone, oh my god. but she’s definitely with mimiko, so maybe they can transfer points to each other, and her combat skills aren’t bad at all, maybe.. ”

“y/n-sensei, i don’t know how that got there.” itadori speaks, almost ashamed.

“i do!” another orifice opens on his hand, grinning. “i killed them.”

everybody’s in shock, you gasp, phone falling on the floor as both your hands cover your mouth.

“the dark haired’s head i blew off, the other’s i sliced.” the curse continues.

“itadori, please make that thing shut up.” maki orders harshly, expression softening when her gaze falls back on you.

“sukuna, this is not the time for jokes.” itadori intervenes.

“i’m not joking. they tried to boss me around, telling me they’ll give me another finger if i kill kenjaku. some brats, trying to command the king of curses around, pfft. i couldn’t give a damn about them wanting that body back or whatever.”

yuki and yuta help you up. megumi stares at you, and choso has partially read the air, pitiful expression plastered across his face. itadori’s head hangs low. yours does too. you don’t blame him, you could never, but you’d like to beat sukuna dead right then and there. exorcize him out of his mind, over and over again. your blood boils, and you feel the cursed energy forming in the pit of your stomach. the ground breaks beneath you, literally, and everybody watches the crack extend into the horizon. you feel like a part of you has died again. the first one died when geto committed mass murder and disappeared off of the face of earth, the second one died when he told you to stop visiting the temple. the third one died on christmas eve, with suguru, and two more parts, the fifth and sixth, died when you found out your girls were dead, a few moments ago. you didn’t even know you had that many in you, but you knew you needed an outlet.

so, you use the only one you have around, that is not fatal to anybody: you let the shards break, you let them explode, allow them to cut you — you scream. you scream, falling to the ground, hands gripping at your hair. and you scream, you scream for nanako and mimiko, for suguru, for satoru, for shoko, for nanami who could’ve escaped his destiny had he not come back, for haibara, for inumaki, for mai, for mechamaru, for nobara who’s fighting death, for the youth you had lost, for the kids that are next to you in this hellhole, for the youth they’ve been stripped of, you scream for your life and scream. and megumi sees one of the women he grew up around losing it, and yuta and itadori see their teacher in shambles, maki sees her role model falling apart; yuki sees the only other special-grade, that’s not a teenager, she has left fighting to not blow up the country, and choso sees a talented sorcerer with a good heart dying inside.

and you scream, you scream until your throat is dry and even dryer and you cough, cough dry, cough blood, cough until you just stop.

megumi kneels down in front of you, and you just stare at him. he looks back at you, eyelashes wet with tears he’d never admit of having shed, silently begging you to not leave him too. he grasps your hands softly like suguru did on the first day you showed up at his temple and pulls you in to hug you. and you see in him the boy suguru used to be, and in all your other students the group of teenagers you built a family with and your heart breaks because they built their own too.

maki kneels down too, and hugs you too, and so does yuta, and although, sheepishly, yuji does that too. choso thinks a bit but megumi nods in approval and he does join, and yuki also circles her arms around you as you cry. deep down you feel and know they’re scared of what you would do, so they hold you down.

megumi never saw you cry once. not because you weren’t a cryer, the three of swords was marked by scalding iron on your heart, but because you never really cried in front of people you didn’t know, or people you didn’t want to perceive you as weak. but he remembers the only time — once, when him and tsumiki were staying over at gojo’s for the weekend — he heard you through the walls. he was eleven, he believes, and he still remembers how you sounded. the memory is sewn into his brain, and whenever he remembers it, his stomach knots and his lymph nodes harden. since then, sometimes, when he saw you smiling, he only thought about what’s kept underneath your smile and your designer clothes and jujutsu records that you broke.

“i raised them, they were my girls too.” you whisper, “they only wanted their dad to have a proper burial, was that really so much to ask for?” your head shakes in disapproval to their fate, “curse users or not, i still carry their picture around in my wallet, i still have every inch of my home full of pictures of them.”

you stop to catch a breath. they’re all still around you, not letting go.

“if it means killing kenjaku, i’ll turn myself into a vengeful spirit if it has to come to that.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x female reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x oc #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #jjk geto #nanako hasaba #mimiko hasaba #mimiko and nanako #jjk mimiko #geto suguru angst #geto angst #jjk season 2 #jjk angst #jjk smut #jjk fluff

[ladydorian05]

Seven-ish sentence Sunday

Thank you for tagging me lovelies @wikiangela @loserdiaz @hippolotamus @wildlife4life!!

Have a little something from A king and his lionheart, the Medieval au! I'm working on for the 9-1-1 Bingo. Warning I'm in the middle of some serious editing with this one so this whole thing may change once it's actually posted

The first thing Eddie does as king when his father’s health deteriorates is appoint the order of knights 118 as his official royal guard, the order Buck got selected to be a part of, and the second thing he does is appoint Buck as Christopher’s personal guard. “Eddie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Buck says, uncertainty lacing his words. “Why not?” “There are far more qualified knights than me, like captain Nash for example. Hell, even Chimney and Hen, not only are they great knights, they’re also healers. I’m just a brute that knows how to swing a sword with basic knowledge in field medicine!” “Careful there, you’re insulting the king’s best friend.” “Quit joking, I’m serious.” “I’m also serious, Buck.” How could Buck doubt himself so much? He was the youngest graduate of the Angeleño academy, and the youngest recruit to be chosen by one of the order of knights backed by the royal family. He was praised by many as a prodigy. Buck’s troubled expression and his hunched posture speaks in volumes to Eddie about what kind of thoughts are going around his head. He’ll forever hate Lord and Lady Buckley for hurting their son’s self-worth this much. “Evan,” while not fond of his given name, Buck had always let Eddie call him by it whenever he pleased, and Eddie’s made sure to not overuse such a privilege, “I want you to listen to me. There is nobody in this world that I trust with my son more than you.” Because he knows Buck will do everything in his power to keep him safe, he knows how much Buck loves his boy, as if he were his own. He watches with bated breath as a tear rolls down his friend’s face, a small smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Eddie.” He’s well aware of the weight Buck carries with him, all the expectations Lord Phillip Buckley placed upon his young son and the ones Buck gave to himself. Eddie understands the effect his words have on Buck. “I won’t let you down.” “I know you won’t.”

No pressure tags! @made-ofmemories @thewolvesof1998 @your-catfish-friend @disasterbuckdiaz @alyxmastershipper @crowleywasagryffindor @theotherluciferr @forthewolves @jesuisici33 and everyone who wants to do it!

#seven sentence sunday #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie medieval au! #A king and his lionheart - Buddie medieval au! #ladydorian writes

[harbouredsoulss]

I don't know if you're taking requests now, but if you do could you maybe write a one-shot with reader being on rhaenyra's place in brothel, but only they actually 'done it'?

I literally said in a previous post that I was going to try and get to requests later but as soon as I read your request, I HAD to write it.

I hope you don't mind but I did it as Daemon x Rhaenyra Targaryen instead of Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Again, I wanted to thank everyone for all the love given on my previous work. You can check out UNHOLY here.

I hope you enjoy!! 🥰

AFTER DARK | DAEMON TARGARYEN

Summary: see request above!

Warnings: 18+; incest [sorry?], sex; penetration; unprotected sex; mention of oral sex; minor mention of blood; bodily fluids; teasing; swearing; mention of pleasure house(s)

I also want to add that I used a website for the High Valyrian. So I apologise in advance if it is incorrect.

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog or comment! 🥰

A03 link

Word Count: 2.4k words

There was a kind of giddiness to her step as Daemon led her into the bowels of the pleasure house, a coy smile upon her lips.

Men and women were scattered about, bodies intertwined, becoming one.

It had been unexpected, their journey here.

Daemon had taken her hand, and showed her what life beyond the Keep had to offer a princess disguised as a pauper; a boy nonetheless. 

He was always a step behind, cloaked in shadow, observing as she marvelled at the city’s sights. 

“It is truly something…” she began, losing all thought as they walked its winding paths. 

The prince smiled, amused, as he watched her skip along, twirling and spinning, her hand clutching a tankard of ale that sloshed at the sides, threatening to spill. 

The lanes were littered with people, some breathing fire, playing games, whilst others were seen coupling in dark archways, ignorant of those around them. 

Her steps faltered when she saw them. 

The prince and princess happened upon two women, both strangers shadowed by the night, yet illuminated by the stars. They were swept in one another’s arms, half naked with their breast exposed, toppling over their corsets, mouths claiming one another in a feverish fashion.

Rhaenyra crept closer, curiosity becoming the better of her. 

“This… is nothing…” Daemon had whispered to her carefully, lips grazing the lobe of her ear, teeth nipping at its flesh. 

His fingers toyed with the fabric at her waist, the warmth of his breath, tickling her skin, a sharp contrast to the cool air of night, raising the hair on her arms. 

Rhaenyra found it hard to swallow, a lump settling in her throat. Her lips skimming his as she turned to face him. 

She inched away from him gently, till their faces were mere inches apart, so he could see the silent question in her eyes, begging him to show her – to take her where she could really see something. 

Like a moth to a flame, Daemon obliged, whisking her away, and vanishing off the streets no sooner after having decided where to take her. Daemon needed no convincing.

Rhaenyra didn’t know what to expect on arrival, given she had little education on the matter at hand. She was, however, amazed, to say the least, at how many couples could be found outside the establishment, hands and mouths all over one another. 

Their steps did not falter as Daemon led the way inside, ladies and men alike begging for him to notice them. They reached for his arms, chest and face – any part of him they could get their hands on. 

The Rogue Prince never shrugged them off, never shied from their touch. His only reaction a smirk on his lips as he pushed on. 

It had not taken long for him to find them a room, if one could call it that. 

The generous space was filled with all kinds of people scattered about.  

There were men who coupled with other men, some inviting women to join, whilst other men found companions in women, alone, their hands groping, mouths and tongues lapping at one another, moving faster and faster as their partners voices grew louder and louder. 

Daemon encased her with his body, wrapping his arms around her, watching as she took in the view surrounding them. They stood within the centre of the room, a sliver of moonlight shining through a crack in the rafters above, illuminating them where they stood. 

Rhaenyra bit her lip as she watched a young couple, both of the same sex, nakedly fondling one another’s cocks. One of them, a dark-haired lad caught her staring. He held her gaze as he continued to pleasure his partner, even as he crouched down before him, taking his cock in his mouth.

Her cheeks warmed at the sight, her heart quickening. She was quick to turn from his gaze.

This time, however, as her eyes wandered the room, she saw a woman, hair, blood-red, cascading over one shoulder. She lay bent over a table, head thrown back, mouth gasping for air as a man grunted behind her, fucking her at a frantic pace. 

 

“Fucking is a pleasure, you see...”

 

Daemon’s face leaned into hers, fingers grazing her own, lips brushing against her cheek. His voice was low and steady, intent on fixing her attention. 

He knew how alluring this place could be. He had been near six and ten when he had first ventured into an establishment such as this, his prick roused at the sight of a bare breast.

 

“For the woman as it is the man.”

At first he kissed her gently, a lingering peck on the lips, hands cradling her head, keeping her close to him. 

 

“A marriage is a duty… yes,” his voice husky, and laced with desire, “But that doesn’t stop us from doing what we want.”

 

Daemon pulled away from her slowly, hands holding her at a distance, eyes watching as she took in his words. 

 

“From fucking who we want.”

He claimed her lips, fast and unrelenting, teeth biting into the plump flesh, drawing blood.

She held onto him, the back of his neck, nails tearing into his flesh. 

He spun them around, hands drifting down to her waist as they moved together. 

Rhaenyra gasped as he nudged her back against the brick wall, the harsh foundation scraping her skin through the thin material of her shirt. He didn’t seem to notice, or care.

Daemon was captivated by the feel of her body pressing against his own, the taste of her lips, the torture of it all driving him to the brink of insanity. 

He allowed his lips to trail the length of her neck, teeth scraping, and marking her milky flesh, doing all that he could to ensure there would be marks left behind.

His fingers toyed with the string of her shirt, tugging and pulling playfully until the material started gaping to one side, exposing her breast.  A groan escaped him as his fingers begun caressing the visible flesh. 

Daemon leaned back to admire the sight before him; Rhaenyra exposed and wanton. 

He took in the exposed breast, staring at the pink, perked nipple, a stark contrast to the creaminess of her chest. His expression, dark and contrived, offered Rhaenyra no notion as to he was thinking. 

Unable to gauge his thoughts did not deter the young princess, instead the excitement within her thundered loud enough to cloud her own. Removing any and all doubts. 

She was panting now, chest rising and falling quickly, body responding in a way it never had before. She felt overcome, replaced by an imposter.  

Rhaenyra made to kiss him again, desperate to have his lips back on hers. She tried to pull him towards her. The princess was too slow. Daemon had intercepted her plans, spinning her around, placing both of her hands against the wall, his own mirroring hers. 

They were both ragged and panting now, their every movement eagerly anticipated. 

His desperation; tangible, with the hardness of him felt every time she pushed back against him. She purposely rubbed her body against him, relishing in being the object of his desire.

Gripping her by the waist, Daemon stalled her movements. Using those deft fingers, he began toying with the seam of her pants, the eagerness to rid her of them, almost palpable. She whimpered as he teased, slipping a finger between the junction of her thighs, the material of her pants chafing against her skin. 

“Please,” she begged, not quite knowing what it was she was begging for.  He tugged her pants down till the material pooled at her feet. Her sex hardly visible, masked by the overhang on both the front and back of her shirt.

Rhaenyra let out a whine as he went to cup her then, her sex throbbing at his touch. The sound of her voice fused with the others around them, creating a cacophony of pleasure. 

There were no words that came to mind, none would do justice for what she was experiencing in that moment as he touched her, fingers rubbing her softly between the slickness of her thighs. He went to enter a finger gently, giving her a taste of what was to come. She relished in the sting as he added another.

Rhaenyra, body trembling as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, eager to return the favour, turned herself to face him. She claimed his lips with her own, running her hands over the planes of his shoulders, right over the cloth of his shirt, taking in the contours of his body.

She tugged the shirt free from his pants, moving her hands underneath, following the pattern of hair on his chest, moving her fingers down towards the seam of his pants, touch cool, leaving ripples of gooseflesh in her wake. 

A hiss escaped him, as her hands ventured lower, fingers skimming his flesh, nails lightly scraping the length of him. She gripped him in the palm of her hand, unsure of what was expected. She had seen others touch their partners so. Some rubbing them slowly, or frantically, whilst others used their mouth to provoke a release.

Rhaenyra didn’t know what it was Daemon wanted. 

She met his gaze, looking up through her lashes, cheeks tinted pink as she continued to stroke him.

Doing her best to replicate what she had seen the others do. Daemon watched in turn, mouth agape, tongue swiping the sweat from his lips as he grew harder in her hand. 

Fires sparked around them, the warm light exposing the sheen of sweat that trickled down their faces, soaking into their skin.

The movement of bodies around them flickered in the corner of her eyes. Daemon took that moment of distraction to nudge her back against the wall, hands slipping from one another; his control waning. 

He clutched her hands in his, pinning them behind her back. 

She resisted his grip, jolting her body backwards and forwards, letting out a hiss through clenched teeth as his grip tightened. Daemon ignored her frustrations, getting off on the power he was able to exude over her. 

He brought his mouth down and around the tender flesh of her breast, and took the opportunity to bite down. His tongue flickering against her nipple, teasing. 

Daemon was pushing for a reaction and found it in her cries as he took the bud between his teeth, tugging and blowing on it gently, alternating between the two actions. 

He whispered sweet nothings against her skin, relishing in her pleas, “Iksis bisa daor skoros jaelā? ñuha lips bē aōha naejos, ēngos tasting aōha ñelly.” Is this not what you want? My lips upon your breast, tongue tasting your flesh. Daemon continued his torment, releasing her hands, emitting a low sound in the back of his throat, the sound reminiscent of grunt, offering a warning to the princess. Should she act out of turn he would punish her for it. 

“Oh skorkydoso nyke crave naejot sagon iemnȳ ao, naejot feel se warmth hen aōha ñelly wrapped around nyke.” Oh how I crave to be inside you, to feel the warmth of your flesh wrapped around me.

Rhaenyra’s body shuddered against him, his whispered promises, shallow breaths like a caress against her skin. 

“Keligon talking, se qogralbar nyke already.” Stop talking, and fuck me already.

The princess likened herself to clay. She was putty in his hands. 

Her desperation burned like an inferno. 

Rhaenyra watched on in eager anticipation, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she watched her lover rid himself of his clothes. 

She reached out to him, placing each hand on a shoulder, steadying herself as she went to jump upon him, hooking her legs around his waist.

The prince caught her swiftly, grunting in response as he made to steady his footing, pressing her body closer than before, the hardness of him sliding against her stomach. 

Her voice, a breathless a rasp in his ear, begged him to take her hard and fast.

The prince obliged her request, sheathing himself inside her, taking her as quickly as time would allow.

A grimace marred her features, as she stretched around him, adjusting to the intrusion. 

Pain, bordering the line of pleasure spiked through her. The feeling was unlike any other, and triggered an onslaught of nerves as the sensation sharpened.

Daemon didn’t anticipate any other kind of response after having been with a maiden once before. He studied her carefully, took in the slight pout to her lips, and stalled himself inside her, allowing her more time.

After what felt like eons, to Daemon at least, his sense of control slipping with every second that ticked by, Rhaenyra offered him a shy smile, and nodded her head, silently urging him to continue.

It was with small movements, pushing himself deeper, sliding out slower, forming a steady rhythm, that the burn began to fade. Rhaenyra soon began meeting him thrust for thrust, jutting her body forward, relishing in the feel of him.

The pain grew dull as they carried on, her voice growing hoarse as she begged him further. His hair stuck to forehead, sweat mingling with her own. He pressed his lips against her shoulder as he rutted into her, suckling and biting the soft flesh, adding to the marks already left.  

Their voices joined the chorus around them, everyone else in that room seeking their pleasure, sounds growing harsher – louder – as they grew closer to climax.  

The prince watched his princess through blurred vision doing his best to study her as she drew closer to her climax. He moved a hand between her thighs, fingers brushing where they were joined, her arousal soaking his fingers. 

He brought them to her lips, smearing them against her. Her tongue licked it, face frowning at the taste. 

She met his gaze, unsure. He held her eye and brought those same fingers to his own lips, tongue lapping at the taste of her.  Rhaenyra could have collapsed in his arms right then and there.  The sight of him tasting her – enjoying her – was enough to spike her pleasure, that feeling deep within the pit of her stomach rising as Daemon used every part available to him to bring her closer to release. Rhaenyra didn’t know what she was chasing, only aware of something building inside her, begging her to chase it, to get as close to that feeling as possible. “Māzigon sir dārilaros,” he whispered, voice veiled by his arousal, “release aōla naejot nyke.” Come now princess, release yourself to me. 

#daemon targaryen smut #daemon prince #house of dragon #targaryen #daemon targaryen #smut #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon spoilers #Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen #young rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #Daemon Targaryen oneshot

[epickiya722]

[NOTE: This is long! This is an actual ask about Mineta and among other things that I thought maybe some of you may be interested in reading, but because the font is in orange (due to Tumblr glitching out on Anon and their autism) I'm posting it like this. I'm not too bothered by the color, but I'm sure there are others who may find it unreadable. Now, you do not have to read it. And if you do read it, you may comment or just send me an ask ONLY if you're polite. Don't attack anyone over this. No matter how you may feel about Mineta, BNHA, Horikoshi, a dog, a cat, ANYTHING or ANYONE... DO NOT BE DISRESPECTFUL. Please keep any of your comments that you know are rude to yourself. And now, you may proceed if you choose to.]

Horikoshi said once in some interview that mineta is essentially a self-insert. Coincidentally, early-mha horikoshi had some pretty pervy tendencies (much like mineta—probably why he thought it would be cool to have such a character never really face consequences). The most famous example of this is probably the girls hero costumes, most notably Yaoyorozu. He mentions in an aside very early on in the story (volume three or something?) that he can’t seem to help himself and her boob window always gets bigger every time he draws it. Then there’s uraraka saying she didn’t want such a tight costume, Hagakure being naked, etc. When the anime started airing there was another interview where he said he really appreciated them making uraraka curvier than in the manga, because he likes curvy women. One could also use midnight and mount lady as examples of this but I’d say it’s more of a way of discussing mature themes surrounding hero society and all of its consequences rather than actual sexualisation. Something that sets him apart, even at this early stage, from other shonen mangakas is that he doesn’t only do this to the women, but the men as well. If Yaoyorozus hero costume is revealing, what about kirishimas (this comparison is my favourite because they both need skin showing for their quirks to function well, so why is one considered bad and the other fine? Because one is a boy and one is a girl? Please keep in mind I am not trying to say that kirishima is sexualized. It’s just food for thought)? If urarakas suit is considered too tight, then look at all might. You could probably see the outline of his dick from fifteen yards away when he wears that costume. Then there’s mineta, who makes certain comments regarding the women in his class. But what about mount lady and how she treats shoto? Or one of the wild wild pussy cats asking the boys in class 1-A how old they are to see how long til she can marry them? Unlike basically every other shonen out there, the sexualisation (at least as far as I can tell) is not based in sexism. It’s across the board, and we only notice it more when it happens to women because we are used to it happening to women.

For a long time, I hated horikoshi for the same reasons I hated mineta (it was a love-hate relationship for obvious reasons). He was openly perverted and seemingly one of *those* guys. You know, the ones I’d be afraid to walk near after dark. Or before dark. But I still loved mha and really appreciated what he was doing within the story. As a side note, he writes the women very well, which is rare in shonen (again—love hate relationship with dear old horikoshi). But if you’ll notice, the farther along in the story you look, the less sexualisation there is. It’s gradual so you hardly notice, but compare volume four or five to volume thirty. The difference is stark. It’s not really that mineta has less lines (although since the war started that has been the case) he still talks, just differently.

I think what happened is, when mha started getting popular, horikoshi started seeing huge pushback to minetas character, which probably all came to a head when the anime made him say something super fucked up to eri. I don’t recall if it was in dub or sub or both, but reading back through the manga it’s a bit different and honestly could’ve been poor translation or my own misinterpretation. But in the anime it was clear what he meant. He can’t wait for eri to be older, for exactly the reason you’re thinking now. The process of horikoshi realizing his mistakes started long before this, though, and gradually you can watch him patch up the holes if you pay attention. The anime does a poor job of this, at least until season six. But around the time that season four ends (and this is present in the manga too) there is a scene of Mina tying mineta to a chair and forcing him to watch something. After that, the sexualisation in the manga is gone for good. I’d like to interpret this as horikoshi finalizing his realization and own personal character development. He is no longer pervy, just like mineta is no longer pervy.

The one exception to this rule is that infamous chapter cover. The one with Hagakure on the front? Yeah, when I saw that, it made me rethink all of this. For about two weeks I was convinced that I’d been wrong about it, and he really is just a pervert after all. But lo and behold, he said in an interview that he was running behind and didn’t have time to draw or pick a chapter cover. He handed a bunch of old concept art to one of the higher ups and told them to pick something. He said he was never expecting that drawing to see the light of day, and he figured they’d choose something a little more suited to the story. (A little fucked up that he drew that? Yes, I think so. But keep in mind, these are *old* drawings. People are allowed to change and, following this metric, I think horikoshi has changed quite a bit.)

All of this is to say, mineta is not really a bad person anymore, and also has incredible writing (whether it was purposeful from the beginning or a last minute change) which just goes to show how talented horikoshi really is.

#I'm working on 45 minutes of sleep today like at this moment #not kiya's thoughts #kiya answers #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mineta minoru #minoru mineta #horikoshi kohei

[unicornletters]

treat my boy like a fancy little princess - platonic izzy x reader, focus on izzy x frenchie, post s2

You’d hardly know Frenchie is the captain of this vessel, with the way he asks Izzy about nearly any decision he makes and brings him coffee and treats and literally sits at the man’s feet. Foot. It’s endearing as hell, obviously, both to Izzy and to everyone else on board, but it does make the chain of command feel a little…wobbly. 

No one’s quite sure how to navigate it, so the protocol that’s evolved is that you ask Frenchie something first, you get told to ask Izzy, you ask Izzy, and you confirm the answer is in accord with Frenchie’s vision as a captain. Quick decision-making is not an option.

Luckily, on the rare occasion there’s an actual raid instead of some kind of scam or extended fuckery, Izzy is indisputably in charge.

Frenchie can fight, sure, at least kind of. He had to learn during the Kraken’s reign. But his weird sharp claws and feral instincts don’t hold a candle to Izzy’s highly-polished swordplay and insane level of tactical knowledge. So you look to Izzy when you’re in a raid, and to Frenchie, nominally anyway, the rest of the time. It works, more or less.

“When are they going to fuck?” Zheng asks you one afternoon, looking at Izzy sitting on the ladder by the captain’s cabin with Frenchie at his feet, rapt at whatever it is Izzy is saying.

“I don’t know if it’s like that,” you say. “Don’t you get a kind of father-son vibe?”

Zheng snorts.

“I get a daddy vibe,” she says, which is kind of impressive because she wasn’t even on board when Izzy embarrassed himself with that one.

“Look,” you say, “just because your boyfriend has a partner who has a girlfriend or whatever doesn’t mean you’re the relationship expert all of the sudden.”

“You’re way behind,” she says. “My boyfriend has a partner and a girlfriend who are my partner and girlfriend.”

“Oh,” you say, “well, congratulations, but still. Frenchie and Izzy are just doing their thing. Their heavily-informed-by-shared-trauma thing. I think we should leave them alone.”

Zheng tosses her head in a way that makes one of her pigtails go out of alignment, and she fixes it with an annoyed look on her face.

“It’s not just me,” she says. “Ask anyone. We’re all waiting.”

You have to go help Roach in the galley, so you just shrug and walk away.

“Hey, friend,” Roach says, cheerful today. “Do you know whether the little man is in love with our captain?”

You groan.

“Not you too,” you say. “Zheng was on this just a minute ago.”

“I keep an eye on my beautiful Frenchie,” Roach says, tapping below one eye. “And on our weird little first mate, too.”

“I don’t even know if they’re like that,” you say, pointlessly.

“They are,” Roach says. “Obviously. I need a way to tell Izzy that if he hurts my Frenchie there’ll be hell to pay, but also that I welcome him to start a relationship with Frenchie and treat him as he should be treated. Like a lady.”

“Probably not a lady,” you say.

“You know what I mean,” Roach says, and you do. “Like a fancy person. Izzy needs to treat him like he’s very, very fancy.”

“Mm,” you say, picking up a knife and potato and getting to chopping. “Very fancy, yeah.”

Roach has exhausted his chattiness for the moment and just mixes spices as you chop vegetables. It’s nice. Very companionable. 

And then you hear Izzy’s gait coming down into the galley, and you sigh, praying for strength. Not him too.

“Uh,” Izzy starts, brilliantly. “Roach, I wondered, uh. If I could talk to you.”

Roach smiles like a shark.

“Izzy! Of course! I’ll just have my helper leave us –”

“No,” Izzy says, “they’re fine.” He smiles slightly at you, clearly grateful you’re here.

“What did you want to talk about?” Roach asks much too brightly.

“You know how me and Frenchie, we, you know, we’re close?” Izzy asks.

“Yeah,” Roach says. As if anyone could have missed that.

“That all right with you?”

“Depends,” Roach says. “You going to treat my boy like a fancy little princess?”

Izzy’s taken off guard by that one.

“Uh,” he says, “if that’s what he wants, then, well, yeah,” he finally says.

Roach nods once, decisively.

“If you hurt him,” he says, smiling the while, “I will butcher you.”

“I’d expect no less,” Izzy says.

“Have you talked to Frenchie about this yet?” you ask, dying of curiosity.

“I haven’t,” Izzy says. “I don’t – I don’t know how.”

Roach’s grin practically gleams.

“And that’s why you’ve come to me.”

#izzy hands x frenchie #x reader fanfiction #our flag means death #x reader #izzy hands #roach ofmd #zheng ofmd #zheng yi sao #reader #izzy hands x reader #but you're bff

[marengogo]

QUICKIE - 4: Queer Realizations and Acceptances

Part of Your World - by Halle  [The Little Mermaid]

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

🐺 — 🐺 — 🐺—

Ladies, Gentlemen and Distinguished Enbies, how have you all been?

As I’m writing this, the schedule for FESTA 2023 was just released so, i’ll make sure to post this today, so I can focus on it 🤩🤩🤩.

Hope you haven’t allowed too many pestering things in the fandom ruffle your beautiful feathers. It might seem like there is a lot to be angry about, but IN MY OPINION we keep getting appalled and distracted by the same-ol’same ol’, which, NGL, plays perfectly into the hands of those who want to see us triggered and ignore, for example, ACTUAL ANGER INDUCING shit that has been going on in the industry potentially affecting the members, some more than others; NAMELY JIMIN. BUT the title of this post is Queer Realizations and Acceptances, right? So, forgive me, let me not digress.

From the beginning of this year, I’ve been concentrating heavily on all aspects of my health and thus far, even though it has been so groundbreaking in many positive ways, it has brought about a lot of things I had to face head-on, ready-or-not style. This particular weekend, my family and I met with another family for a nice lunch. During this meeting it was made pretty clear to me that, at this stage in my life, if I were to pursue being my TRUE SELF, a European-born African Queer Woman, with anyone other than my sibling and close cousins, within my family, I would never bring my family any joy, or sense of pride and I would most certainly ostracise myself. And because I also realised that I really love my family, there is really nothing I can do.

These are the cards I was dealt and that I have finally accepted. As a consequence, I have started making my statement clear on my wish to not want to marry, which has liberated me so much; SO FUCKING MUCH. With that weight off my shoulder, the desire to start working on my project has been growing stronger by the day, and with that I also finally came face-to-face with my biggest fear, the one and only reason why I haven’t been able to sit-down and write. I’ve been working on this like half my life, and though it is not the theme it is LGBTQ-heavy, hence I have been feeling literally petrified at the idea of this project somehow ending up catching a public eye or two. Take the infamous situation with Kit Connor, he was basically pushed into having to reveal his sexuality and I CANNOT, AND WILL NOT, HAVE THAT. 

I have been working on this project for so long, it is my baby, so I want it out in the world, but at the same time I also want to keep my family. I know it sounds like a Have your cake and eat it situation, but that is indeed my situation and: I WANT BOTH. Particularly when, to begin with, it is hella unfair for these two things to be mutually exclusive. So as I kept thinking, Jikook came to mind. For all the speculation, all the love, all the hate, all the gossip, all the rumours, all their actions, all their silences … we still don’t have any confirmation, or negation, regarding whether they are straight or queer. So why couldn’t this be me? 

The only big difference I could spot is that differently from Europe and America, in Asia a journalist will not come up and ask you flat out “Are you Gay?” In fact the private lifestyle of an Asian idol, where just dating is a scandal hence everyone keeps it underwraps, and companies also help you to do so if theta re invested in you enough could prove rather beneficial and a good protection unless you get caught of course 😬😬😬. Nevertheless, as I am not in Asia, I do not have that option but I have indeed figured out what I am going to do in my case if that time were ever to arise 🤡😌. Basically, NEVER LET ANYONE FORCE YOU TO COME OUT. I think this is not said enough, but if you don’t want to come out, YOU 👏🏾 DON’T 👏🏾 HAVE 👏🏾 TO 👏🏾.

Now, obviously I don't know if Jikook assuming they are queer would ever want to come out or not, it is a scary world out there and safety comes ALWAYS FIRST. However, ultimately it is up to them, and in the same way I would want people to respect my decision, even if 4 years from now it becomes painfully clear maybe by being the only two members that aren't married but somehow live together that they indeed are, if by then nothing has still been confirmed or denied then; CLEARLY that would have been their answer with that question. Period.

So, if I ever were to get "fans" one day, I apologise in advance for my secrecy in regards, but whatever action I take will be my stance. You will be free to speculate and do all that I am respectfully doing with Jikook at the moment, of course, but just as well, because I would have been on both sides, I also know that you won’t die from lack of knowledge; no matter how badly you want to know. BUT THEN AGAIN who knows, maybe by the time I get to that point the world might have made a complete 360 and being part of the Queer community 🏳️‍🌈 wouldn't be such a problematic thing anymore. I wouldn’t hold my breath on this but, hey, miracles do happen, so I can but hope 😊.

Anyways, enough of my rambling, let's all get ready for FESTA 2023, apparently there already is something on schedule for tomorrow so y'all ... like ... THE OT7 IN MY CAN'T EVEN.

Always respectfully yours,

Marengo.

#QUICK JKK #Queer Rights #Jikook Rights #BTS FESTS 2023 IS COMING

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

1. one step closer

A/N: Hello everyone!! I present to you my very first LoZ fic!!! And also my first ever poly ship fic that's been posted, so I hope I do this as well as I'd like to. This story is actually inspired by a post I came across that was posted by @fangirlingpuggle, who gave me permission to use their idea as story inspiration!! I'll provide a link to the post if you'd like to see it!! Now, one thing I'd like to say about this story is that it's not just a Sidlink fic or just a Linkona fic. It is also a Sidyona fic. It is all three ships. I will try to balance out each one, showing each individual love story, plus the big one of just all three together. I have not yet decided which ship will be getting together first, or if it'll be an all three all at once type of thing, and because of my indecision, I would like to hear from you guys, my lovely readers, as the story progresses, on which ship you think would make the most sense when it comes to getting together first. It all depends on how I write it out, of course, but I just wanted to let y'all know ahead of time!! Last thing, this chapter is a little short compared to where the other chapters will be at length-wise, but it's also just a letter exchange this chapter, so there will be lots more in the next chapter!! Enjoy!!

Inspiration Post

Pairing(s): N/A

Summary: Sidon and Yona exchange a series of letters, keeping each other updated on everything happening in their lives, as childhood friends do

Tag(s): N/A

Word Count: 2,258

Song Inspiration: A Thousand Years By Christina Perri

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Chapter 1]

~*~

[Read on AO3]

[Series Masterlist]

~*~

Dear Lady Yona,

I hope this letter finds you well. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you, things around here have been a bit busy. Vah Ruta, the divine beast that my late sister Mipha once piloted, well, something has gone wrong with it. It's caused a near constant downpour of rain here in our domain and if we don't find a way to stop it, our reservoir will flood over the dam and completely take over not only our home, but much of the rest of Hyrule as well. And of course, us Zoras can survive just fine in such a situation, but the others in our land cannot, none of them have such an affinity for water as the Zora do.

With that in mind, I am terribly worried. We've been doing so much research it's making my head spin. I'm not sure I can take staring at another book right now, especially when everything it says is completely useless to our attempts in finding a solution to this problem. I just pray that we find a way to stop it soon.

How are things over in your domain? Good, I hope. I would never wish anything like the mess here on anyone. I miss you much, my friend, though I know if you were to visit right now, I would not be very good company to keep. And alas, I cannot bring myself to leave home at a time like this. As prince, I must face this head on. But once this is all over, we can work out the details, I suppose, no matter how far off that is. Get back to me whenever you find the time to do so.

Sincerely,

Sidon

~*~

Dear Prince Sidon,

Oh my. Please be careful. I, too, will be praying for a quick success in taming that divine beast. I wish I could help in some way. I am sending with this letter the few sheikah books I could find in our royal library, though I'm not sure if they'll be of any help, considering the sheikah have never spent much time here. But it's the least I can do. And do not worry about sending them back once you've looked over them. These have been collecting dust for decades over here. They will be much better off with you.

Things here in my domain are very well, though nothing very exciting has happened at the domain itself. However, recently, I've taken on two new handmaidens. Mother suggested I have them, especially since I've started doing a lot more traveling around our land. Khira and Chroma are lovely, when they're not bickering at least. Chroma can be a bit easily frazzled and Khira is usually very serious and strict. But I just try to remind them both that I am not counting on either of them being perfect. Just their companionship alone is wonderful to have.

But anyways. On your land, you have those winged tribe, yes? Those that resemble birds? I remember meeting one when we were younger, but I never had much contact with them besides that. But in my travels, I came across a very small village of them on our land! All the way across the sea! But they're much more colorful than the one I met. Brilliant greens and oranges and reds. I spent a few days there, learning about them and their culture. It's absolutely fascinating!

I may visit them again eventually, but for now, I've come back to the domain for awhile. I'll be setting out again soon, so I'll be sure to tell you lots more of my next adventure. And once this whole divine beast thing has settled down, I'll come visit your domain as soon as I can. Besides, mother has been a lot more pushy recently when it comes to our...arrangement. She believes it is time for me to finally marry, though I've tried to remind her that it's not just up to her and I, but you and your father as well. But there's no need to worry about that right now. That's for another time. Take care, dear Sidon, and I hope to hear from you again soon.

Yours,

Yona

~*~

Dear Lady Yona,

Thank you so much for the texts you sent. I will be going through them soon.  The rain is still neverending, but we're learning to get used to it for now. It's all we can do. And do not worry, I am being as careful as I can be. But enough of that. I'm so glad to hear of you going on such wonderful adventures, Yona. The... winged tribe, as you say, those are the Rito. It is indeed fascinating to learn of some being on your land, I thought they were only in Hyrule. The way you've described them, I bet they are quite the sight. Maybe one day I shall get to see them as well.

Tell me, what is having handmaidens like? I've always wondered. I have nothing of the sort, though I'm okay with that. Is it true they always follow you around and try to do everything for you that you may usually do yourself? I could never imagine having to deal with such a thing. Though my only experience with them is the few vague memories I have of Mipha having one and the stories I've heard about them, so maybe I'm not one who could be so biased against them.

Oh, yes. Our arranged marriage does seem to be coming up more and more these days. Both here and there, it seems. Father has been talking about it as well. Says he wants me to be prepared for when I finally take the throne, but I'm not so sure that will be happening anytime soon. But I suppose it would be best for us all to talk about it eventually. Once Vah Ruta is back to her normal self, our domain will happily host both you and your mother. Until then, I can't wait to hear of all your adventures to come. Please do keep in touch to the best of your abilities during your travels, I will find great joy in reading about them.

Sincerely,

Sidon

~*~

Dear Prince Sidon,

Ah, yes, the Rito! Forgive me for forgetting their name, it's been so long since I've heard it. Those I found here did not go by that name. They called themselves the Zitty. But they were the same species, I'm sure of it. Next time you find yourself on my land, I will definitely be sure to take you to see them. They're quite the lively bunch, and wonderful company to keep. I think you would fit in very well with them.

Silly Sidon. Yes, some handmaidens are very much like that. However, Khira and Chroma are not. While they do follow me to most places, they do not attempt to do something for me unless I ask it of them, thankfully. I could not handle being coddled in such a way either, so I am very grateful that they are not pushy in that regard. And no worries, I take none of your assumptions unkindly. I am happy to answer any questions you may have, about handmaidens or otherwise. You know that.

That sounds like a very good idea. I'm sure mother would love to spend some time overseas as well. Oh, it's been so long since I've paid a visit, I can't wait. Has any progress been made with Vah Ruta? Did my books help you at all? I apologize if they did not, though I hope that something has been found either way. Please keep me updated.

Yours,

Yona

~*~

Dear Lady Yona,

Yona. I cannot believe what this day has become. I do apologize if my writing isn't the best, I just can't keep myself from shaking. So much has happened in just this last pass of the sun through the sky. I will start with this. All of our research finally paid off and the books you sent me were definitely of great help with that. We learned of the way Vah Ruta works, of her mechanisms and what controls the water she spews. The best solution is to shock her system with electricity, like shock arrows. However, as you know, electricity is deadly to Zora, therefore we cannot use them.

Because of this, we'd begun asking for help. Traveling a bit away from the domain and looking for travelers, asking if any of them would be willing. We had no luck finding such a person, until yesterday. A young traveler was making his way past and I asked for his help. Later I found out that many others had spoken to him as well about what was going on. I asked for his help and he actually said yes! I was beyond grateful. He carried with him armor and weaponry, including a bow and arrow, so I already had high hopes for his success. He made his way to our domain and I did as well, trying to guide him whenever our paths crossed.

I had asked his name when we first met, and I didn't think too much of it at first. His name is Link. I'm sure he wouldn't be the first to be named after such a well-known hero. However, upon bringing him to meet my father, I found that I had been wrong. My father knows this young man. Because this Link is the same exact Link from one hundred years ago! And he came here to our domain to fix Vah Ruta as part of his quest to complete what was started all those years ago.

Oh, Yona, he's even more amazing than either one of us has ever imagined. Even better than all of our childish wonders. Him and I worked together quite closely in order to get Vah Ruta working properly again. I carried him on my back as I swam through the reservoir, getting as close to Vah Ruta as I dared so that he could shoot each of her mechanisms. I would launch him up and he would shoot up into the air, pulling his bow out with such ease. Once he had an arrow nocked, it was like time slowed down just for him. He made perfect shots each time. And then he ventured inside the divine beast to destroy the beast inside, the waterblight created by Calamity Ganon all those years ago, the same one that killed my sister, Mipha.

As soon as he was inside, I returned to the domain and waited anxiously for his return. He was gone for so long. He only just returned about an hour before I'm writing this, and the moon was already high in the sky. And when he finally returned, he looked exhausted. But miraculously, not a single serious injury was on him. He was covered in scratches and bruises, dried blood on most of them, and dirt all over his face, but that was the worst of it. And Yona, oh Yona. He's so beautiful. He's fierce, determined, kind, and gorgeous. I can understand why my sister fell for him so. I can't get him out of my head and my entire body is positively vibrating with excitement.

Now that Vah Ruta is tamed, you must come right away. With your mother, too, of course. You must come and meet him. He'll be staying in the domain for a few weeks before he moves on, so he'll definitely still be here when you arrive. Oh, I can't wait for you to see him. Please, come as soon as you can.

Sincerely,

Sidon

~*~

Dear Prince Sidon,

My friend, I write to you as my bags are being packed for my visit to your domain. Mother is delighted to be taking the trip and much like you, I find myself buzzing with excitement. What you've described...I cannot believe it. Link? The Link? How is that even possible? Oh, I'm sure you'll explain it when I get there. I'm so glad that the threat to your land is no more, I am so very grateful for whatever brought such a hero to your domain.

Oh, I want to know all about him. I haven't felt such a feeling since we were children, Sidon. And even now, my childish dreams are coming back to me, even if I know how silly they are. What do you think he thinks of you? What do you think he'll think of me? Do you think he likes women or men? Maybe both? What things does he like? What things does he dislike? I can't wait to ask.

Oh my, the excitement is overwhelming. I apologize for how short of a letter this is. It's mostly just to tell you that we will be leaving shortly and should arrive soon after this letter does. I cannot wait to see you again, Sidon. Make sure you put in a good word for me with our new hero friend, if it's not too much to ask.

Yours,

Yona

~*~

A/N: What did y'all think?? Please let me know!! I'd love to hear your thoughts!!! All feedback is much appreciated!!!

~*~

Taglist:

@fangirlingpuggle​

@soniclozdplove

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story and any others relating to it!!!

#purple_strxnger #purple_strxnger_stories #sidlink #sidyona #linkona #sidlinkona #yona #sidon #link #prince sidon #king sidon #lady yona #queen yona #sidon x link #sidon x yona #link x yona #sidon x link x yona #sidlinkona fanfiction #sidlinkona fanfic #sidlinkona au #au #fanfic #fanfiction #botw au #botw fanfic #botw fanfiction #totk au #totk fanfic #totk fanfiction #fluff

[lemontreefantasy]

Sails and Anchors - Part 2

wc: 6.4k damn this is long

genre: fluff, smut, angst

warnings: mentions of mental illness, robberies, gunshots, choking, overstimulation, rough sex idk (?)

taglist: @corvidqueen319 @katelynnsqueendom​ @marievllr-abg​ @eclecticranchzonkcookie @supernintendobabe​ @stayoffmybyunsworld​ @ateezourstars​ @voidcupidz​ @seonghwarizon​

A continuation of Part 1 - Abandon Ship

Part 2 – Batten Down The Hatches

After becoming friendly with one of the top army majors in town, an old friend from high school reappears. The merchant’s ball is soon approaching and brings along bittersweet events.

a/n I know I took super long to post this but it’s my child at this point I’ve put so much time and effort into it lol im sry, also please like AND reblog!

How could you miss such a handsome face like his around town? Did you ever notice him come to the bar? You had never seen him around town until your encounter with him that day. Then again, you never really ventured out too much to come across any army men either.

“Shall I accompany you to your destination?” he asked

Honestly, with a face like his, you would just be downright stupid to deny a request like that. You also figured it would probably be good to make a connection with him in case you ran into any trouble at the bar. You spoke with him as you both walked along the port, with the vast ocean in view.

“Of course,” you complied giving him a shy smile. “So Seonghwa… are you from around town?”

“Yes, I am, actually. Born and raised.” He walked alongside you with one hand on his holster and the other behind his back.

“Oh really?”

“Why? Not much good-looking militants out here?” he joked with a slight chuckle leaving his lips. You noted his cocky tone but chose to dismiss it as a joke.

“I don’t really waltz around town a lot. I usually spend most of my time at the training headquarters near the central palace teaching the newcomers.”

“I see. Haven’t really seen a face like yours ‘round here so…”

“I actually finished my day’s training and decided to take a trip down to the merchant markets. It’s been months since I’ve explored down here.”

“Months?”

“Yes, months. It may seem like a lot but I don’t really have time to venture out most days. Before being transferred to the army, I served on the naval ships for a while. The ones that would be out for months and months. So.. not much time spent on land, you know?”

“Oh wow, navy and army. Damn.”

“Damn, indeed. Enough about me, how is business?”

How’s business? How did he know about the bar?

“Wait I’m sorry… do you know me?” you questioned him.

“Of course! Everyone knows you, you’re the boss, aren’t you? Or… boss… lady? Right?”

“Well, yeah. Didn’t think I was that popular though.”

“I’ve never seen you before, only overheard some colleagues talking about you. They didn’t mention how beautiful you were though” he said to you in a deep voice, giving you a wink.

You palmed off the compliment, as you normally did with most men, even though his words gave you a butterfly or two in your stomach.

“What did your colleagues say?”

“They were speaking about how some no-good thieves robbed you all. But don’t worry, we’re looking into it.”

“Oh… yeah. That shook me up a bit, I won’t lie.”

“Have you had any repeated experiences like it since then?”

“No, not really. I mean, shoddy men come in all the time but they mean no harm. It’s hard to tell who has bad intentions.”

“I hear ya. But if anything like that happens again, send for me right away. Even if you need someone to hang around for safety’s sake. We’re trying our best to keep the community as safe as we can right now. If things only escalate, we can jeopardize the merchant markets, the sea ports… it would all be just a big mess.

And of course… I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

There he goes again. Slipping in those innocent lines. For some reason you couldn’t seem to believe anything a man said to you after hongjoong left. You were not going to be that naïve this time.

“Thank you, that really means a lot to me. I do have watchmen but they’re like family to me now. If something happens to them I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

“I understand.”

When you approached the tavern, you invited him in for drinks on the house. After all, as cocky as he is, the man did save your life. You fixed him a beer and sat with him as the business was a bit slow.

“You know, I knew your father.”

With eyebrows raised, he piqued your curiosity. “You did?”

“Not personally, but he and my father got along quite well. They would meet at the merchants’ ball and have long discussions about politics and the economy, things like that.”

“Ah, the merchants’ ball that he never took me to.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be invited this year. It’s happening next month at the central palace. My father always took me with him but I was never really interested.”

“What did your father do?”

“He was an investor. He tried to get me into it but I was more interested in exploring unknown territory and making a life for myself.”

“I feel like my father never took me because he thought he would be around. Sadly, you never really know when your last day is.”

“I’m sorry, he really was a good man. A man of his word.”

That evening you and seonghwa spoke for quite a while. He stayed with you until it was time to close and made sure you wrapped up the day without incident. You appreciated the gesture but didn’t put your full trust in him, after all, you had only known him for a few hours.

~

A few months had passed. A huge election took place which booted the current serving government and led to the installation of a new one. One with promises to make the streets safer, promote business among merchants and boost the number of visitors who came to buy and sell goods. Fortunately, those promises were not empty and for the first time in a very long time, things seemed normal again. You were less worried about being targeted, more foreign visitors came to the tavern and business was alive. As a result, the merchant’s ball was pushed back until the new government had settled in.

Seonghwa was promoted to a Major and as time progressed, you had realized how well-respected he was among his colleagues and most townsfolk. Servicemen knew him as the sharp-shooter who had golden aim and businessmen knew him from his father’s successful investment portfolio. Commoners knew him as the handsome patrol guard. He would often visit the tavern closer to weekends to have a drink or two but his visits were more frequent as the weeks went by.

There was still, however, no sign of hongjoong. You remember the letter he scribbled before he left.

“Please do not despise me. I love you with every fibre of my being”

But there was only so much you could take. How long do you have to wait for love that is not even guaranteed to last? Being with hongjoong still felt like a fever dream. But that dream was slowly coming to an end, withering away, flames fading.

On the other hand, you and Seonghwa had grown closer. Much quite like the opposite of hongjoong, dare you say. He always made sure to visit you ever so often when he had time, whether he was just coming for a drink alone or with colleagues, or just making sure you were okay during his occasional patrols. Hell, he even broke up a few barfights on crowded nights on his own accord. Seeing him in action like that… you had to check the wet spot in your knickers. It was certainly a sight to see.

However, you kept your walls up but as time progressed, Seonghwa kept breaking them down one by one. He made you feel secure and protected. He was someone you could always rely on when you needed it and you knew you could tell him anything and he would never tell a soul; your secrets were sure to be safe with him. Not to mention a part of you inside melted a bit whenever he would smile at you. You remember times when he would come to see you after closing hours. He would take you for a walk along the dimly lit dock and tell you stories of his navy days while looking at the moon’s reflection dancing on the ocean. Some days he would take you out for picnics in the botanical gardens where you would spend the day in the sunlights taking in the beautiful flora. When you were with seonghwa, you were at peace. He was your anchor on your turbulent days and the relief you needed when you felt alone.

~

At the end of the week, the both of you went out for dinner in the town. Seonghwa had mustered up the courage to ask you on a date to which you accepted. You thought that if anyone deserved to go on a date with you, it was him. He treated you with respect and always made time for you, and honestly, you were curious to experience what the night would be like. Dinner was lovely and afterwards, the both of you went back to his house to relax and have some wine. His home was quite large, as you had expected, and contained mostly wooden furnishings and high ceilings. He took your coat and hung it on the carved coat hanger and sat you down on a velvet burgundy couch in the living area as he fetched the wine from his cellar. You try to make yourself comfortable in the new environment and in no time, he returns with two glasses and a bottle, pouring you a half glass of red wine. After setting the bottle down, he saunters over to a small table and picks up a peculiar, pastel green envelope and hands it to you.

“I was given the opportunity to personally give this to you, miss y/n,” he smiled, handing you the envelope.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“Open it.”

“On behalf of the ministry of trade, we cordially invite you to join us as we celebrate the success of small-business owners at the annual Merchants’ Ball,”

“So, it’s that fancy, is it? God, what do I wear? Is it really formal? What do you even do at these things?”

“Relax, it’s not that bad, just wear something nice. Guests mostly go to catch up on old times or network with new people,” he explains taking a seat next to you after pouring himself some wine.

“Are you going?”

“Why? Does that matter to you?” he asked in a playful, nagging tone.

“I was just asking…”

“I am going, actually. I don’t want to but it would be good to show face, you know?”

“Oh, really?”

“Would you like to go together? You can keep me company for the night while I introduce you to some of the merchants. That’s if you want of course.”

You hated to admit that he was right. You despised big social settings with hoity-toity businessmen who thought they owned the world, not to mention how bad your social anxiety would be if you went alone. You really had no idea who the other town’s business owners were. You were always busy in your father’s own business or your schooling that it was never a priority for you.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

Seonghwa gave you a small smile, knowing that his request was successful, “you know I’ll always be there for you.”

A bottle of wine later and the both of you were now tipsy, heads dizzy, jokes and giggles fill the air. Seonghwa notices you gazing at him, admiring how handsome he was, how he made you laugh and he slowly leaned in and gave you a light kiss on the lips. It was so delicate and slow. You felt your cheeks burn and your heart beat so hard you swear you could hear it. Raising your hand to caress his jaw, he returns the gesture, putting his fingertips on your chin. The kiss deepened as he sucked on your bottom lip, prodding further as he felt your hands slip down to his chest. You wanted him so badly, so you took him. Pushing him into the back of the sofa, you hoist one leg over him, sitting on his lap facing him. You hold his face in your hands and kiss him once more. Seonghwa took the opportunity to trail sweet kisses and love bites down your neck and on your chest. You loosen the straps of your dress so that it fell over your shoulders. His doe-eyed expression turned you on as you lowered the top of your dress to expose your breasts. Licking and sucking on your buds, he sneaked a hand up your long skirt and began rubbing your clothed clit.

“Fuck yes seonghwa,” you moaned.

Humming around your nipple he lowered his tone, “that’s right baby, say my name again.”

After moaning his name a few more times, he had enough and carried you bridal-style to his bedroom. Laying you down gently, he climbed over you making sure his knees parted your legs. His stare on you was  hungry like if he was the hunter and you were his prey. You had no complaints whatsoever as the look on his face was enough to send you over the edge. Stripping you of your underwear, he made no hesitation in parting you and licking your folds, making sure his lapping on your sweet bud. A loud scream escaped your lips as he moaned into you, adding two digits into you one by one. Soon enough he had you at your peak, curling his fingers up into you. He noticed you gripping onto the sheets, toes curling and your back arched and continued his pace as your overstimulation only turned him on more. Your legs closed in on his head but his tongue still had access to that sweet spot of yours. You had to physically pry him off of you for  him to give you a break. He gave you a few minutes for the stars in your vision to dissipate before he lay next you, kissing you once more. You grasp his member, now red and rock hard, patiently awaiting your attention. You pump him in your hands for a few minutes while trying to handle seonghwa’s tongue down your throat.

“I need you to fuck me,” you whispered in his ear.

“You’re going to have to ask a little nicer, baby.”

“Please, seonghwa. I need you inside me now,” you cry out grabbing onto his chest.

He flipped you onto your stomach and positioned himself behind you. Like a natural instinct, you were on your knees with your back arching into the mattress. Shifting your weight to your forearms, you feel his member gliding through your folds. You hear a him spit on his cock before he slowly breached your walls. He notices you fisting the sheets and he hears your quiet muffled moans.

“Tell me darling, do you like that?” he says as he pushes further into you.

“Fuck yes, I want it,” you manage to stifle out

You feel his hand run down your back towards your hair where he grasps a good handful and uses it as leverage to fill you to the brim. He finds a rhythm of deep, stable strokes that send you into a daze. Your juices coat his cock as he strikes your ass with one swift motion, begging him for more. The sweet sting and the burning in your core were enough to send you over the edge. Moans and sweet nothings spilling from your lips.

“Cum on this cock, darling. I want to see you cum.”

Again, his overstimulation kink kicked in and seonghwa didn’t stop until you were a convulsing little mess under him. After coming down from your high, it was his turn. He turned you onto your back and re-entered your soaking wet cunt. He leaned over you and locked you in place. Your legs were suspended in the air and his hands hooked under your back to grip your shoulders. If you thought the previous position was intense, this one was worse. With seonghwa’s face hovering over yours, you watch his face contort as he slammed into you, desperate to orgasm. One hand over his back and the other on his neck you whisper in his ears.

“You fuck me so good, seonghwa. Give it to me,” and with that, you feel his pace weaken as he buried his face into your neck and spilled his warm seed in you. You closed your eyes and drank in the sound of his breathy moans as he collapsed beside you. A few minutes later he sprung back out of bed to clean you up before falling asleep in his arms for the rest of the night.  You weren’t exactly sure what to label this relationship with seonghwa as, but as for tonight, it was simply just drunk sex to you.

~

Later that week, you set out into the city to find an evening gown for the ball. You enter one of the popular boutiques and a nice lady greets you. “What can I help you with today miss bosslady?” You recognize the nickname but can’t help but wonder how much people really know who you are. Even in the city?

“Hello, I’m looking for an evening gown for the merchant’s ball. Can you help me find something?”

“Of course, love. We got lots of new styles for ya.”

After trying on many cheesy, lacy, awkward fitting dresses, you finally decide on a simple black, one-shoulder dress, fitted but long with a slit to the side. You thank the woman for her help and start your trek back home.

It had been quite a while since you came to this part of the city. You were always so cooped up at the bar that going out wasn’t really on your to-do list. Nothing really changed. You spot a bakery at the end of the street and try to make your way there when a tall man with an impressive physique began flagging you down. You had second thoughts of whether you should stop or not, but upon a closer look, you realized it was your old classmate Choi San. You notice his hair had grown out quite a bit and he seemed just as handsome as he did in high school.

However, while the average woman would run to him no questions asked. It was a little different between you and san. A few years before your father had passed away, his father started a rumour accusing your father of hiring men to destroy his business place. Everyone eventually figured out that it was all a big tale as your father’s character was very far from the story that spread. But unfortunately, this caused a bit of friction between you and san going to school. Both of you weren’t friends per say, but after that incident it was quite awkward between you both. At the time, you were pissed that his father had that audacity to say such a thing and the fact that san said nothing to you during that time, not even an apology, you had no intentions of interacting with him.

That was until today. You pause your stride to face him from across the street and flash an awkward smile.

“Y/n is that really you?” he smiled and asked

“Yes, hi san.”

He walks across the street and approached you. “Ah it’s been so long, I heard about your dad. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well that’s life, I guess. I’m doing alright now though.”

“That’s good to hear. I know we didn’t speak to each other much but I just wanted to say I’m really sorry for all the trouble my father caused. He isn’t well right now… mentally that is. I fear it may have started earlier than his actual diagnosis. Please understand that.”

“Oh… I didn’t know that. It’s okay san. Let’s just put all this behind us and move on with our lives yeah?” You extend your hand to shake his and he returns the gesture.

“Thank you. I’d really like to start over from now. A clean slate between two business owners, you and I.”

You give him a small smile before attempting to leave the conversation. “I should probably get going. I need to sort out some things back at the shop.”

“It was really nice seeing you y/n. Feel free to drop by anytime.” And with that, san gazed at you as if he longed for you to stay a bit longer. But the situation was so awkward for you that you didn’t quite know how to navigate it.

~

A few days passed and it was finally the day of the merchant’s ball. You had your entire look planned and took the day off from the shop. You took a shower, and stepped into your dress. You did your hair in large bouncy waves that you swept to one side of your shoulder and put your black heels on.

Not too long after you finished your makeup, your handsome escort had arrived dressed in a black suit adorned with embellishments. His hair was shaved at the sides with a side part, hair sweeping to one side of his head. He looked absolutely delicious and you tried your best not to be nervous around him. You took his hand as he led you to the carriage that he came in.

“You look exceptionally gorgeous tonight, darling,” he said to you.

Darling.

“Thanks, Seonghwa. You look really nice as well.”

The ride to palace was quiet and short. Seonghwa exited first and told you to wait. He opened your door and helped you out. Holding on to you the entire time, helping you up the grand staircase outside the palace. Upon entering you were greeted by palace staff who ushered you both into the main hall where the function took place. It was a giant hall with high ceilings, large crystal chandeliers, giant tiles on the floor, imported paintings and gold furnishings. Guests appropriately dressed, not overly fancy but not boring either, you could say that you fit in quite well.

Of course, as soon as you walked in, many guests had stopped seonghwa to greet him and catch up on old times as he was attending on behalf of his father. He introduced you to some of the shop owners in town as well as some of his army associates, all of which were pleased to meet you as they knew your father. You had really underestimated how many people knew who you were but you didn’t complain. The more connections you made in this town was better for you. As seonghwa spoke to a more matured woman who claimed to know him since he was a child, you spot the eating area where the hors d’oeuvres were being served. You gestured to seonghwa the direction that you were heading and proceeded to fill your stomach. After getting something to eat, you feel a pair of eyes on you but honestly you were so caught up in eating that you didn’t care to pay attention to your surroundings much. The gentleman approached you with a hand to the small of your back.

“Mind if I join you?”

You look up at the man, only to notice it was the one and only choi san. He takes a seat next to you and sips on his drink.

“You look really lovely tonight. It’s nice to see you here.”

“You look great as well, san. And yeah, it’s my first time coming to the ball.”

“I’ve only been to about two of these before. You don’t miss anything really, haha. Just a bunch of old folks talking about each other’s business.” You both chuckle as he takes another sip of his drink and you both look blankly into the distance. There seemed to be no more tension between the both of you, but more so a shared feeling of having the weight of the responsibility of managing the family business passed down not by choice but by default. You didn’t mind doing it, but it took a toll on you even though you tried not to show it, and after hongjoong left, life just seemed a bit emptier.

“I don’t know if this is right to say now but… I really regret what happened between our fathers. God, you must have hated me in school. I was really insecure back then. I just didn’t know how to handle it.” At this point, you’re unsure if this is the alcohol speaking or not.

“Look san, we put all that behind us, remember? A new generation has started. Times are changing, things are different. What happened then is in the past, there’s no need to go back there now,” you explained.

“I know, I know. I just, not that it matters now but, I really liked you back then. When he said that shit, I was so angry. I knew you wouldn’t dare look my way after that. So, I never approached you.”

“Wait, really?” you chuckle at his confession. “And what about now?”

“What about now?” he asks.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” you ask jokingly.

San turns his head to look at you and rests his drink on the bar counter. He slowly takes your hand in his and closes the space between you.

“Maybe I do. But seeing you walk in with Park Seonghwa, arm in arm like that… I don’t know how to feel now.”

“I mean, he asked me to accompany him. It’s a bit complicated right now.” You overhear the classical music in the background growing louder and louder and notice the guests have started to dance.

“Well,” he says pulling you closer, “is it so complicated that I can’t dance with you?” he asks, offering his hand to you.

Without saying a word, you hesitantly held his hand. You wondered if seonghwa would be okay with this, but then you remind yourself that you didn’t belong to him. You didn’t belong to anyone as a matter of fact. You were a free woman. Honestly you were a bit shocked to know that san had eyes on you after so many years. Life was so chaotic the last thing you needed was ANOTHER man in your life. But you didn’t like seeing san sulk the way he did. You felt really bad but it wasn’t like it was your fault?

San guided you to the dance floor and placed one hand on your waist, the other in your hand. Meanwhile your hand naturally gravitated towards his shoulder. With light feet, you drifted across the floor. Round and round in circles you went, occasionally glancing at san who’s grip on you was solid, his eyes never wavering. It was as if this was the moment that he waited for for so many years. You notice the glances of many other guests on you both. Pleasant ones. You felt like somewhat of a princess being twirled around, trying to keep up with the tempo of the music as it was your favorite song, Merry Go Round of Life.

As the song came to an end, you were breathless. Gripping onto san’s shoulders you let out a sharp exhale. It was too much to handle in one night. You felt nauseous and hot and you didn’t know if it was your anxiety or the one too many drinks you had. You needed to be alone for a few minutes before you pass out in front of all the guests.

“I’m sorry, please excuse me,” and with that, you ran to the restroom to catch your breath and calm yourself down.

Seonghwa saw every second of it. He knew that he was just your escort but part of him was annoyed at the show you and san put on. For one, he had always thought of choi san as a snobby rich boy who had anything handed to him as a kid. He always thought that he never had to really work hard because of his father’s shop and while he wasn’t wrong, san did have his own struggles to face. After the dance he noticed you run off and decided to follow to make sure you were okay.

Meanwhile in the bathroom, you sipped some water, took a few deep breaths and that constricting feeling in your chest soon began to subside. You fixed your hair and makeup and took a few more minutes before going back out into the hall. After emptying your bladder, you were ready to go again.

Suddenly you hear loud booming noises coming from the main hall. You wondered what in the name of God could have made that sound. A few more bangs of what seemed like gunshots rang off outside. You begin to hear the screams of women and the security yelled for persons to exit the hall immediately.

Do I stay here? Lock the doors and wait it out? Or should I try to find Seonghwa and make a run for it? No, I shouldn’t it’s too dangerous. Fuck. What do I do?

You figured if it was your time to die, you might as well embrace it with open arms. However, the chances of getting out alive seemed high as you were away from the main crowd so you decided to leave the bathroom and run into the winding corridors of the palace. You had no idea where you were going, you just ran as fast as your feet could take you as soon as you saw that the coast was clear.

That was until of course, you bend the corner and collide with a masked man in black, his wide brimmed hat hiding even more of his features. In the scuffle, you push past him so that you both now stared at each other facing the opposite direction you both were originally heading.

But… wait.

You both lock gazes, his eyes now widening as he looked at you, up and down. You knew those eyes. Those almond eyes, smudged with black liner.

But it can’t be… How? Why…

It was him. You knew him and he knew you all too well. Both your frozen stances created an awkward gap of silence. He had no intentions of hurting you and you didn’t fear him. But he said nothing. He turned his back on you and ran. He ran away, right into the chaos. Staggering backward, you hesitantly try to run.

But you couldn’t.

You turned around and picked up the pace in his direction and ran after the masked man. You see him overlooking the foyer to the hall and as he turns around to spot you, he runs toward you and pulls you back into the corridor so neither his men nor the guests see.

“I need you to leave right now. I’m so sorry. I will explain later, I promise.”

“Hongjoong, I-,” he cuts you off

“Y/n please just listen to me. It’s not safe here, please just go!”

You drop to the floor as more shots ring out. Your adrenaline kicked in and you regained your balance and ran for your life throughout the winding corridors. Soon enough you find an exit into the courtyard but you didn’t have a single idea as to how you were going to get home. That was when you spot seonghwa’s carriage handler in the distance and you ran once more.

“Where’s seonghwa?” you ask him

“He’s gone to help with the attack, please get in. I’ll take you home immediately. From the looks of it he won’t be coming back anytime soon.”

You quickly hopped into the carriage and it sped off. You figured seonghwa would have remained with the army to secure the area but you really hoped he would be okay. Thankfully, you made it home safely but only one thing lingered on your mind. Not seonghwa, not san, but hongjoong. He was back in town and you didn’t even know.

As you returned to the tavern you explained to your barmaids and guards what had happened in the palace and they were all glad you made it back in one piece. You decided to close the bar at midnight for everyone’s safety. But unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get a wink of sleep. That stare from the corridor haunted your brain. To think that he didn’t even come to see you, not even at the early hours of the morning.

“That bastard,” you thought to yourself. You went back downstairs to the bar and poured yourself a big glass of wine and with that, you were back in bed and out like a light.

Little did you know, hongjoong did in fact come looking for you that night, or rather, early that morning around 2am. He knocked on the tavern door but there was no response. He knew he had to explain himself to you and the more time had passed was the more he felt like your trust in him had dwindled. He scaled the building in an effort to get to you. Perching himself on the window sill, he tried to quietly jolt the window open to get inside. Luckily for him, it slid right open and he hopped into your room but unfortunately, he noticed you were already in a deep sleep from the glass at your bedside which smelled of alcohol. He didn’t want to wake you, so he spent the rest of the night taking a short nap on your couch in the study and hopefully explain himself in the morning.

A few hours later, slowly drifting back to reality and out of your slumber, you open your eyes and see your bedroom door slightly open. In your disoriented state, you slowly pull yourself out of bed to investigate why it was open, only to find a man who seemed to be asleep in your quarters. Your eyes shot open, hand flying to your mouth as you grabbed a crowbar you kept under your bed. Slowly approaching the intruder, you lower your guard as you realize who the person was. As your fear subsided, rage started festering inside you and your blood began boiling. Did he really have the audacity to send you away then break into your room and now sleep on your couch?

You walked up to the sleeping captain and grabbed him by the throat, jolting him out of sleep, eyes opening in shock, a lack of oxygen stifles him as he holds onto your hands. Realizing he can’t breathe in your grasp, you let go. Thinking about what you had just done.

“Kim Hongjoong, you bastard.”

Coughing and holding his throat he falls to his knees before you.

“First you leave me for months, no goodbyes, nothing. You come back to town, not even bothering to come see me only for me to recognize you in a mass holdup where I could have possible been killed! And now you’ve broken into my bedroom and had the audacity to fall asleep on my fucking couch? You’re a fucking handful aren’t you.”

Hongjoong, still catching his breath, stays on his knees and grasps onto your legs. “I’m so sorry y/n. I came earlier but I didn’t see you. I figured you had gone to the ball. I wanted to warn you before but it was too late.”

“Why did you run from me then…”

“What?”

“In the corridor. Why did you run away from me?”

“I couldn’t explain everything to you then. It was best for you to get out of there. I didn’t want you to get hurt in my mess. If we were seen together, it wouldn’t look good for you.”

“Why the ball? What did all those people ever do to you?”

“This wasn’t our doing y/n” he explains, “Remember you had been robbed a few months ago?”

“What about it…”

“Those men were part of a huge gang in this city. They were ordered to rob your bar as an initiation. My crewmates and I had spied on them one night before we left. We caught them stealing, we asked them who they worked for and what was their business robbing the merchants.”

He continues as he sees the puzzled look on your face.

“They were so scared they told us everything.. who their boss was and all kinds of evil things they do. While we were in France, we got word of a big heist that was said to take place. We weren’t sure when but someone told me that the merchant’s ball was very near in the future so I figured it would take place then. We decided to return because we knew that if anything happened to the markets it would affect so many people, including us. Trade would never be the same if we didn’t step in tonight. We realized that they infiltrated the palace through the staff. Impersonators in the kitchen staff, guards, custodians. So nobody realized that there were gang members so close to all these famous business owners. We had to wait until the very moment that they attacked to retaliate. We couldn’t even go to the police because they would probably throw us all in jail for conspiring or some shit. That’s why when I saw you, I just told you to run. You could’ve easily gotten hurt if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

You sat there trying to process all this information so early in the morning. There was a long pause after hongjoong’s explanation.

“I hope that kind of explains the bigger picture. I know I didn’t come to visit you and for that, I apologize,” he says stroking your cheek, “I just didn’t want to bring any kind of danger to your door. It would bother me so badly if someone targeted you because of me.”

“I understand now. It’s alright,” you mumble, taking a seat next to him, “did anyone get hurt?”

“I believe some civilians were injured, unfortunately. We couldn’t avoid it, though. We tried our best to single out the gang members without the palace guards noticing. It was hard but the men we set out to kill were all taken out.”

You stare at the floor as he quietly spoke, eyes widening at that last statement.

“I see you’ve made a few friends as well?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Prince Charming who waltzed you into the hall? And twinkle toes on the dance floor?”

If you had water in your mouth, you would have surely spat it out at this point. Hongjoong saw everything. And what he didn’t see, his men did.

~

part 3 coming whenever my brain starts working again idk

#hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #san smut #ateez smut #Ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez san #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #ateez mingi #ateez jongho