#and the eye wrinkles and grey hair stays | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thetriumphantpanda · 21 days

Text

mine, all mine | joel miller

Summary | You & Joel have been skirting around whatever this is for years, until he finally breaks and calls it what it is, in the only way he knows how.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.2K

Warnings | Post-Outbreak, Jackson!Joel, possessive!Joel, rough sex, spit play, unprotected PiV sex, cumshot, cumplay, dirty talk, emotionally unavailable Joel, it's basically just 1.2k of filth tbh, no use of y/n

Authors Note | This one goes out to @undercoverpena who gave me the means to rewatch TLOU. This was the outcome. Enjoy the filth.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s got your wrists caught together in one of his big hands, pressed down into the mattress to keep you still. Your thighs splayed wide, pressed down almost uncomfortably by the width of his hips. His cock is splitting you open and you’re so impossibly wet that you can hear it whenever he pushes himself back into you. He likes it, wild grin on his face whenever that lewd squelch makes itself known, he likes that only he can do this to you, only he can make you this wet, only he can get you to submit so completely like this.

It’s been two years of this. Two years of being pressed into his bed in the dead of night. Two years of dancing around what this is, but enjoying it all the same. You don’t think you need to label it, complicate it, not when it feels this good. You’d happily go the rest of your days not knowing what you and Joel Miller are if it means he’s going to stay like this. It started as stress relief, a lot like how it had been with the other people here in Jackson that had fallen into your bed - him, frustrated from patrol or whatever it was going on with Ellie, you, frustrated with… well, mostly everything these days. When he’s inside you, there are no frustrations, only the low thrum of pleasure across your skin.

Things have changed though, maybe in the past six months. He stands closer to you when you’re at the bar, sometimes puts a hand on the small of your back when someone else tries to talk to you. Subtle messages that say back the fuck off or she’s mine without needing to put real words to it. He doesn’t say it, even here, when he’s deep inside you, doesn’t beg you to tell him who you belong to, but then you suppose he doesn’t have to - you’ve not fucked anyone else since this started, no-one would hold a candle to him, and you know he doesn’t fuck anyone else either.

“You hear that?” His gruff voice asks, pulling you back to the present as his cock drags from your cunt, pushing back in slowly, and you do, that squelch of him pushing back inside you as deep as he can fit, you throw your head back, moan his name, “Yeah you do,” His face buries into your neck, teeth dragging across delicate skin, “Hear how wet I gotcha?”

You let your eyes open, fluttering slowly to reveal how close he is to your face. He’s so fucking beautiful like this - skin covered in sweat, brows pinched together in pleasure, his scars and his wrinkles visible so closely, the grey in his beard and the smattering of hair on his chest pressed against yours, you won’t ever grow tired of this.

“S-so fucking g-good, Joel.” You choke out on another drag of his cock, tip pressed right against the depths of you, dragging deliciously against that spot inside you.

“I know, baby, I know,” He coos, nudging the side of your face with his nose, hot breath so close to your ear as he continues the languid strokes of himself in and out of your spent cunt, “Bein’ so good f’me.”

His praise never fails to make you preen, face rolling to the side, exposing the side of your neck to him that he hasn’t already marked. You feel the tight grip around your wrists loosen, his hand taking hold of your chin instead, pulling you back to look at him, brown eyes glazed almost black with lust as he looks down at you. There’s something different there this time, sure he’s always been intense, but he’s looking at you this time like he wants to devour you whole - to cut you open and eat you from the inside.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” He whispers, hand around your face moving to shake you so your focus is on him and not on the way his thrusts have started getting harder, “Say it.”

“M’yours,” You manage to get out, but he shakes your head again, “Yours, m’yours Joel.”

“That’s right,” He bends, hand still gripping your chin, and licks into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth nipping gently, “My girl.”

You almost can’t believe it, like this is some kind of dream, your wildest fantasy come true that he does want you, that it’s not just your pussy he covets but everything else you bring.

“Y-you mean it?” You speak, breathless, “I’m yours?”

You bring a hand up to his face now, cradling a cheek, thumb tracing his bottom lip, but he’s shaking your hand away, his own still tight against your face, “Open your mouth,” but you’re confused about why, so it takes you a while for your brain to catch up, “Open your damn mouth baby.”

This time you do, lips parted, tongue out, Joel’s fingers sitting in the hinges of your jaw, dragging your head forward a little, then, he purses his lips, opens his mouth and lets his saliva drip from his own mouth into your, caught on the flat of your tongue. It’s hot, probably the hottest thing he’s even done. You curl your tongue over it, dragging your mouth closed to swallow it down, then, you open your mouth, stick your tongue back out and look him straight in the eye to ask for more.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” He mutters, but there’s a grin on his face, his cock still pounding into you, the feeling of your slick, made more by what he’d just down, gathering at the base of his cock, dripping down onto the sheets below, “Y’like that, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” Is the only thing you can get out before he’s doing it again, letting his own spit drip from his mouth into yours.

This time though, he doesn’t give you the option to swallow it. He lets go of your face, his tongue melding with yours at the precise spot that his spit had just landed on. It’s a filthy, wet, open-mouthed kiss, saliva gathering in your corners of your mouth as you moan into his when he shifts his hips just a little, tip of his cock now bruising into your cervix on every punch forward.

It happens all at once, his lips dragging from yours, his cock dragging out of your pussy as he pushes backwards, cock in his fist for barely a second before the first rope of his spend is spurting across your soaked and aching folds. Joel lets out a growl as the next lands across the soft skin of your tummy, the next between the valley of your tits. He’s dragging a tight fist up and down the length of his cock, squeezing lightly at his tip to empty himself of every drop of cum, painting your skin with it until he’s softening in his fist and you’re trying to catch your breath.

Joel lets his hands grip your hips, dragging his thumbs through the pools of cum across your lower body, rubbing gently through it to spread it as far as he can, “Look nice like this,” He muses, looking down at the mess he’s made of you, from the aching red hue of your spent cunt, to the milky white splashed across your body, “Mine.” He says, with a tone of finality.

“Yours.”

1K notes · View notes

donatellawritings · 27 days

Text

smoothing your clammy palms over the curve-hugging fabric of your fitted grey slacks, your quickly redirect your wild strand of hair to the curve behind the shell of your ear, forcing a satisfied smile in the mirror as you frustratedly roll your eyes at the sliver of skin that continued to peek through, courtesy of your one-size too small button up blouse. forcefully tugging down on the hem of your wrinkle-free top, you let out a small huff as you carefully scrape your slightly smudged lipstick off of the outer border of your swollen and meticulously lined lips with the sharp tip of your nail.

taking one last glance over yourself in the crystal clear bathroom mirror, your took a short breath as you reached into your thrifted coach bag, your manila folder grasped firmly in your press-on nail-clad hand as you exited the marble interior of the bathroom.

your slightly worn black kitten heels clicked rhythmically against the tiled flooring of the office lobby as you sauntered over to the receptionist, a nerve and anxiety laced smile now playing on your full lips as she brings her eyes to meet yours, “good afternoon, is there anything that i could assist you with?” she questions politely, donning a robotic, yet somewhat warm grin.

“hi, um, i’m here for an interview with mr. cameron,” you stammer, adjusting your bayonetta glasses to sit comfortably on the bridge of your nose as you nervously tap your nails against the marble countertop, “it was scheduled for two o’clock,” you add, your tapping coming to a slow silence as you quickly grew hyper-aware of yourself at the sight of the receptionist taking a quick, yet elongated glance at your pushed-up breasts that threatened to burst through minuscule buttons of your blouse.

you needed to make a good impression. securing an assistant position at the likeness of cameron developments would do wonders for your resume, as well as significantly increase your finances — especially considering your status as a wet-behind-the-ears and pathetically green young woman who was scarily fresh of out college.

“okay, you will be meeting with mr. cameron on the top floor of the building, you can use the elevator and it’ll be the first door that you see,” the receptionist instructs, maintaining her courteous smile and light cadence as she motions towards the steel elevator doors that stand closed, a few feet away from her freshly polished desk.

with a nod of understanding, you step away from the desk, “thank you!” you spoke softly, pushing your nail into the button, causing it to glow a muted red as the elevator doors soon opened, inviting you to step inside of the warmly lit and mirror-encased interior.

jamming your fingernail into the highest floor, you couldn’t help but watch yourself from every angle, drumming your fingernails against your folder, pulling on the belt loops of your tight slacks, adjusting the waist band to sit a bit higher on your short frame. with each ding indicating the increasing height of the elevator, you grew more and more anxious, letting out a withheld breath once you reached the top floor of the building, “relajate,” you cooed to yourself as you stepped out of the elevator.

approaching the tall door, you took a quick peek through the windows that allowed full vision into the pristine office, watching as a man, who appeared to be no older than mid to late 20s spoke on the phone, his free hand gesturing wildly as he paced around the office. hiding behind the frosty glass of the door, you softly brought your knuckles to knock against the door, taking a step away from the door as you took a breath, silently praying that your cheap lipstick stayed within the lines of your lipliner.

swallowing down the lump of nerves that formed in the back of your throat, you subconsciously dug your nails into the hard folder as the door soundlessly swung open, revealing the staggering height of the man who towered, at least one foot above you, his bright blue eyes stoic as he squared his shoulders, his tailored blazer hugging his frame just right.

“s’a pleasure to finally meet with you, please come in,” he huffs out, standing to the side with his ring and watch clad hands crossed over his front as you offer him a kind smile.

“thank you,” you mutter, your dolly eyes widening at the obsessively neat and pristinely kept environment of the office.

each bookcase was lined meticulously with books and encyclopedias varying in different editions, priceless pieces of art hanging from the sparkling tiled wall panels, and three ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked kildare island, showcasing a picturesque view of the river that glinted against the shining sun.

the sound of the door softly clicking to a close broke you from your entranced gaze as you turned your head to see the slightly older man motioning towards his mahogany wood desk with a knowing smirk on his structured face, “it’s a breathtaking view, isn’t it?” he comments, earning a breathy chuckle from you as you take a seat in the leather chair, directly across from his much larger seat.

“it’s beautiful,” you comment lowly, stealing a quick glance at how his muscles flexed against his button-up shirt as he removed his blazer, slightly rolling up the cuffs of his shirt to rest on his defined forearms, “um, here is my resume, cover letter, as well as letters of recommendations from my professors,” you lightly clear your throat, extending your delicate hand to present the man with your neatly organized folder.

accepting the folder from your grasp, the older man skims his ring-clad finger over the contents of your resume, before letting out a sharp exhale as he visibly relaxes into his seat. you couldn’t help but let your overwhelming nerves get the best of you as you licked over your suddenly dry lips, scratching the tip of your nail against the stitching of your slacks.

rubbing the pad of his index finger over his lips, the eldest cameron lazily flips through the rest of your documents, before returning his eyes to you, catching the way you were biting the skin on the inside of your cheek as your knee lightly bounced.

“before we go any further, i just want to make that y’understand how demanding the position is,” he begins, his voice sultry and thick, as he watched your throat bob with an anxious swallow, “from monday to friday, and sometimes including weekends — i need you to be entirely devoted to every intricacy that goes on in my day to day, whether it be accompanying me to a meeting or answering the phone, i require your full and undivided commitment,” he continues, his legs spread deliciously as he straightens his posture, keeping his hands enclosed over his crotch.

parting your lips to speak, you’re quickly cut off by the man seated before you, “is this a commitment that you’re ready to make? you’re young and i understand if this is … too much to handle,” he feigns concern, internally pleased with himself as your skittish demeanor is quickly replaced with a slightly offended raise of your thinly threaded eyebrows.

“i can assure you, mr. cameron — i’m more than capable of handling this position … efficiently,” you sealed with a smile.

mr. cameron? rafe could get used to hearing you follow his each and every command while maintaining a respectable cadence — it got him off, and you didn’t even realize it.

drumming the tips of his fingers against the hardwood desk, feigning contemplation, rafe tongues the inside of his cheek, “my receptionist will set you up with a new cellphone — that’ll be for you to use, solely for contacting me, and i will have a driver picking you up and returning you home, every day,” rafe stands from his leather swivel chair, keeping his eyes trained on your nervous gaze as he watches you shift in your seat.

a younger girl like you needed to be trained, conditioned to suit a man like rafe cameron — and he’d be happy to do that for you.

“i will personally see that you have any and all necessities needed to keep you up to my standards — and they will be delivered to your home, however …” rafe stops at your side, crouching down to meet your eyeline, a knowing smirk tugging on his lips as he examines the way your fingernails have torn into the threads of your cheap slacks, “we are going to work on those little … quirks of yours, gotta make sure that you are walking with y’chin up high, hm?” he tuts, lightly nudging your busy fingers with his firm knuckle, before lifting your chin.

wordlessly, you nod, splaying your fingers flat against your thigh as your new boss expands his smirk into a stretched-out grin, “perfect — y’start tomorrow,” he breathes out, raising himself to stand tall as he shakes out his long a toned arms, before craning his neck with a crack.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #obx #assistant!reader

679 notes · View notes

happyhauntt · 1 month

Text

a grey day — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: spencer meets the newest member of the department.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, reader is autistic & a mom, spencer's iq gets slashed to sixty when he talks to pretty girls and it's my favourite thing. no use of y/n. reader is performing an autopsy so mentions of blood but nothing too graphic.

─── word count: 1.3k.

YOU KNOW IT'S A GREY DAY before you even manage to open your eyes.

And really, you’re expecting it ━ this whole week has been filled with pale pink and lime green with solid, unwavering turquoise blobs in the middle, because you started your new job on Monday and the apprehension, the excited, the nausea, they've all been stirring up inside you for days now.

Waking up to a grey day doesn't hit you as hard as it usually would.

Still, you feel sluggish when you drag yourself out of bed ten full minutes after your alarm has gone off. The shower is a no-go this morning ━ if you’re honest with yourself, the shower is a no-go most mornings, when your skin feels soft and sensitive and your brain can't cope with the idea of a barrage of hot water raining down on you ━ so you slap on some deodorant and spray some dry shampoo in your hair, tugging it up into a rough ponytail.

You take your time with your makeup, though; strawberry lipgloss and lots of concealer, a heaping of eyeliner and your favourite gold hoop earrings are exactly what you need to feel better. When you step out into the hallway wearing your comfiest black jeans and a jumper that's probably smart enough to pass the dress code, hearing your daughter giggling in the kitchen, the grey day lightens a little.

It gets even better when your sister-in-law presses a travel mug of iced coffee into your hands.

"Jackie, I fucking adore you," you say around a mouthful of delicious, soul-quenching caffeinated goodness. You’d half-expected Jackie to have something planned. Four years of living together means that Jackie tends to know about your off days before you do.

The other woman suppresses a smile, coupled with a sharp look. "There's a three-year-old right there!"

You snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. As if you don't have this conversation every single day. "Nellie knows not to repeat what I say." You turn to your daughter, your heart swelling three sizes as the little girl at the kitchen table looks up from her drawing. "Nell, baby, what am I always telling you?"

"Don't go home with strangers."

"Well, yeah, but I meant the other thing."

The little girl brightens, revealing a missing front tooth. "If Aunt Jackie won't say it, then I shouldn't say it."

You giggle, scurrying over to drop a kiss on your daughter's forehead. "Exactly right, my little love."

When you turn back toward the kitchen counter, your sister-in-law's face is painted with an affronted look, her mouth half-open. "I can say bad words!"

You wrinkle your nose. "I'll believe that when I see it."

By the time you leave the house, sliding into your car with a second cup of iced coffee in hand, the day has lightened to a pale blue. You hope it will stay that way.

"YOU LOOK SO TIRED, DUDE."

Well, alright, he'll admit it wasn't the first thing he was expecting to hear when he entered the coroner's office. It's been a while since he ventured down to the morgue, sure, but Dr. Peterson has never talked to him like that before, and he's fairly certain not that much has changed in the three-or-so weeks it's been.

And Spencer's observant. He prides himself on being able to notice things, tiny details other people seem to miss, things that are so obvious to him that he can't comprehend how normal people can't see them.

So if anyone asks, he'll never admit that it took a full twelve seconds before he realised that the girl in the white lab coat, elbow-deep in an open chest cavity, is definitely not Dr. Peterson.

"Uh..."

It's the most intelligent response he can muster in the moment.

"It's okay," you add, hardly bothering to look up from the corpse. "I'm tired too. And you're not the worst-looking guy in the room." You jerk your head at the dead guy on the table. "Although I'd say that's a pretty low bar, all things considered."

"Where's Dr. Peterson?"

"He retired. Or got a promotion, I think? Not totally sure." You shrug, raising an eyebrow at him. "I thought I'd met most of the department already, but I don't recognise you.” You tell him your name, squinting at him through your plastic glasses.”I’m the new... coroner, medical examiner, pathologist, dancing monkey? They didn't totally specify the position when they offered it, which I think says more about me than anything else."

Spencer blinks. He's not totally sure he's ever met anyone who could talk nearly as fast as him before. "Dr. Spencer Reid, Behavioral Analysis Unit. Nice to meet you."

"Oh, cool!" The liver in your hands gives a wet squelch as you drop it into a metal dish. "I'm under the BAU! I answer to your Section Chief, um, Agent Strauss? She's a little harsh, huh? I'd, uh, shake your hand, but..." You hold both hands up, mimicking a surrender, showing off the blue medical gloves slick with blood.

An inkling of a smile creeps onto Spencer's face. "I don't shake hands."

"That's fair," you say with a shrug. "Can I help you, Dr. Reid, or did you get lost looking for the cafeteria?"

“No, actually.” He remembers the files he was supposed to show you and reaches into his satchel. The intensity of your gaze is like lasers on his skin and he can’t help but fumble, almost sending a stack of documents scattering across the floor.

When he looks back up at you, cheeks flushed rosy, your stare hasn’t wavered even slightly. Amusement lingers in your eyes.

He clears his throat and holds out the files as if they are a peace offering. He doesn’t quite understand whether a battle has been fought, but he definitely feels like he lost one. “Hotch— uh, Agent Hotchner sent the Howard County ME’s report on the Richardson case. He wanted you to look it over and sign off before they file it for the District Attorney.”

You nod at him. The corner of your mouth quirks a little at his stuttering. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so immediately endeared to somebody before, but there he is, blinking at you like a deer caught in headlights. It’s so adorable.

“Sure, I can do that,” you say. “Just pop it on the desk over there and I’ll get on with it when I’m done here. Can’t get any bodily fluids on the paperwork, y’know? That’d be a nightmare.”

The volume of your laugh startles him, and he jerks slightly. The sound of it is loud and warm and it should really freak him out, considering you’re wrist-deep in a cadaver and cackling like a maniac, but it doesn’t. It’s actually kind of sweet.

“If that’s all, Dr, Reid, I’d like to finish rooting through this guy’s insides so I can sew him back up.” Your words are an obvious dismissal, but he doesn’t feel offended, not with the kind smile still adorning your features.

He nods and backs away. His feet feel a little numb. “Sure thing. I’ll, uh, catch you later. Have fun!”

“I’m sure I will.”

You sound like you’re about to laugh again. Have fun, really? He knows he’s fairly inept when it comes to women, but have fun? He scurries out of the morgue and back into the land of the living, and as Spencer boards the elevator all he can think is that he’s so glad Derek wasn’t there to witness that.

He’s certain he’d never live it down.

Meanwhile you resume your autopsy with an odd, fuzzy feeling in your chest. You start to hum beneath your breath, a song that must have played on the radio while you were driving to work.

Your grey day feels a little pink at the edges.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #* chapter update.

600 notes · View notes

motherofdogs1010 · 2 months

Text

Of Messiahs and Seeds I (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...

Warnings: eventual 18+, dark!fic, eventual forced marriage, eventual NONCON, eventual pregnancy, dark!Paul Atreides, more to come as story progresses

A/N: Reader is inspired by Daenarys Targaryen with dragons and Sailor Moon's Silver Crystal lol, so I hope you all enjoy!! Terra is similar to Earth, I imagined Lord York to be Tyrion Lannister so please picture that

😈 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😈 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

"Terra Millennium stands as a enomely in the universe for their rejection against the Empire", the hologram records said. "A two-century long battle was waged for the planet through the Great Houses yet the people won through the help of someone they have since called 'The Conqueror'."

Paul had heard of the Terra Millennium, their planet one of lush greenery, vast oceans and an abundance of resources that the previous Emperor had tried countless times to harvest just as House Harkonnen had done with the Spice on Arrakis, but alas, no one had ever been successful in mining Terra Millennium. He had heard that they experience something called 'seasons', he wondered what that was.

Just as he had done with Arrakis, Paul sat in his private room, watching hologram clips of Terra Millennium as his fleet flew to the planet to finally land conquest through the help of the Fremen.

"Anthropologists have never been able to stay long on the planet or among the people, but what has been gathered is the people have rejected the teachings of the Bene Gesserit, labeling it as hertic literature."

Terra Millennium was an odd planet with an odd people who had unusually long live spans, being able to live into their thousands without a single wrinkle or grey, they repented against the Bene Gesserit, the use of the Spice; he had heard of the people of that land believing solely in the ruling Queens because of a crystal, one of immense power that was sought after.

"Characterized by their white hair, the ruling House of L/N have upheld the traditional values of the planet, which has a population of over 1 billion. Only female heirs have been able to inherit the throne and it is rumored that a single crystal that is worn by every ruling Queen is said to hold immense power that has granted its people longevity, peace and prosperity."

A knock interrupted his research, Paul seeing Stilgar walk in followed by Gurney.

"Muad'Dib, we have touched land on Terra Millennium", Stilgar said, "they have responded to our communication message."

"What did they say?" he asked, Gurney chuckled.

"They said if we proceed with our mission, they will see it as an act of war", Gurney said, "they're real hard asses here."

"You've been, Gurney?" Paul asked, curious.

"Once", Gurney replied, "I came with your father on a diplomatic assignment, but that was with their previous Queen Helene. This one is new, just coronated a few months ago."

He thought back to the new dreams he had been having of a woman whose hair was the color of white that hung down near the ground in large curls, whose eyes were hard and the color of lilac with the roar of a great beast that rung in his ears when he would awaken from his dreams.

Unlike his dreams with Chani, these felt different now that he had drunken the Water of Life. His visions of the woman consisted of a gentle breeze sweeping through her hair, it curling around her as she was dressed in a long, white silk dress that clung to her body and trailed in a long train behind her with woven golden in the upper bodice. She stood on a tall pillar of crystal, a tall scepter in her hands that she was raising above her head as the breeze picked up.

Soon, the dreams melted in a great war as crystals encapsulating him, a bright light that blinded him yet filled him with warmth and security.

"Show them the full might of the Empire", Paul said, "after all, they are in the presence of the Muad'Dib."

And it was those eyes that greeted him when he finally set foot on the pavement of Terra Millennium with its tall structures that were made of variously colored crystals.

Neo-Queen Amaris was the regal name Y/N had chosen to go by when she took the throne a mere few months ago. Of course, she went by her name, Y/N in private with those closets to her and only by her regal name with others.

Y/N had heard the rumors of the new Emperor wanting to claim her home, her people; he wanted to bring her planet into the vastly growing empire that he ruled under as a supposed Messiah to the Fremen and Bene Gesserit: Muad'Dib. Everyone had heard of how he supposedly liberated Arrakis and the Fremen people, marrying Princess Irulan as a political move to secure his position as the new Emperor.

Only a few days ago did a message come into their Communication's Hub from the Emperor about finally claiming Terra Millennium for not only himself but for the Fremen as it would be their 'Green Paradise'.

War will come to Terra Millennium if you refuse to submit, the message read.

"My Queen", her advisor, Lord York, said as she sat on her throne. "Reports have come in that the Atreides fleet has made contact on the landing pad near the Capital. Scouts have seen the Atreides Army beginning to get ready."

Lord York was a man of small stature with a head full of bronze curls and dark brown eyes that always looked calculated as if he was already ten steps ahead.

Y/N looked over at Lord York before bringing a hand to the crystal that hung around her neck on a chain that could never be removed from her neck before slowly standing up from her throne that was encrusted in gemstones.

"I believe it is time we greet them", she said, looking over her court. "After all, hospitality is what our people are known for."

And it is not like they have any chance of having their weapons working; outside weaponry not from Terra M had no chance of working and she wondered what their reactions would be once they realized this.

"But before we go", Lord York said, "may I make a suggestion?"

Y/N made a motion to the man, who gave a nod and said, "I believe it is our Queen's best interest to wear your ancestor, The Conqueror's crown and scepter to greet our guests. It would show the great strength you possess, a message to not only the Great Houses but the Emperor as well."

"That sounds like a great idea."

"You are the presence of our Neo-Queen", a man said with a thick facial beard, "first of her name, descendant of our goddess Selene and The Conqueror, wielder of the great Silver Crystal, Mother of all, Neo-Queen Amaris."

Paul watched as the man motioned to the woman he had been dreaming about, he could see that as the breeze came that she wore no shoes; all the Terrians didn't despite their silken clothes as they stood amongst the tall crystal structures. They had landed as close to the Capital, finding that there was a landing pad despite the relatively isolated nature of the planet.

"I welcome you, Paul of House Atreides", she said with a stoic expression. "But now you must leave."

The woman, their Queen Amaris, looked upon them with a hint of annoyance as she held a large scepter in one hand that was as tall as Duncan Idaho had been with gold and gem embellishments, but what was curious was that at the top of the scepter where it looked as if a missing piece was needed. The crown she wore on her head was large, glittering in diamonds and curved up into a point as she stood there, her hair having a few small braids that pulled the framing hair away with kiss curls on her forehead.

"Leave?" Paul said with some amusement.

Irulan stood next to him dressed in a silver mesh outfit, a metal hair net that connected over into her dress that held down her short blonde hair. Paul was glad that he Voiced the woman to stop talking, she would not stop and frankly, he had no desire to try and pursue a romantic relationship with the woman after Chani chose to leave further into Arrakis.

His mother stood amongst them, holding the bundled form of his sister, Alia.

"I did not realize a Emperor could have poor hearing", Amaris said, "you are not welcome on Terra Millennium nor do we plan on allowing for you to colonize us. Terra M remains alone."

Paul took in the way she spoke, her accent one he had never heard before and the formal way of speaking. He noticed the large gem that hung around her neck, it sparkled in the sunlight as she stood there and looked to be the size of a her palm.

"Also, we did not apperciate your Bene Gesserit coming", she continued, "spreading their heretic language, you will find them in the Prisoner's Bay."

"You don't believe in the Muad'Dib, the Kwisatz Haderach?" Paul asked.

"We believe in our Queen, may her reign be as prosperous as Selene", the bearded man said.

The Queen just looked at him with contempt, he saw her lip curl a little in annoyance.

And it was that look that made something stir deep in Paul and made him feel something that he never felt before. She looked at him as if he was a bug ready to be squashed underneath her foot

He wanted to possess the woman in front of him, at all costs and he didn't care who he had to kill... he was going to.

#paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #dune #dune x reader #x reader #reader insert #timothee chalamet #chubby reader #smut #dune imagine #dune part two #dune part ii #duneimagine #dark!fic #dark!paulatreides #yandere #yanderexreader

991 notes · View notes

yawnderu · 4 months

Note

Bimbo!reader giving simon a home spa day, like making sure simon looks ABSOLUTELY glamorous everywhere!

bimbo!reader loves having spa days with Simon 😭 she bought a few products for his dry skin, always wanting to help him relax after he comes back home :3

“I said sit down.” You push him back down on the bathtub, forcing him to stay in the water despite the way his fingers are looking like raisins, wrinkling up after almost 30 minutes of being in the water.

“'M gonna melt, angel.” His protest goes ignored much to his amusement, brown eyes fully focused on the way you're working on applying some sort of mask on his hair, despite the way he has a buzz cut.

“You'll live.” You finally reply with a teasing smile, massaging the deep treatment hair mask onto short hair, your long nails softly running along his scalp. He allows himself to fully relax, taking in the smell of the lavender bath bubbles you put in the water, bathroom lights dim to give him the full spa experience.

You carefully wash the treatment off his hair after a few minutes of waiting for it to set in, helping him out of the bathtub and wrapping a towel over his naked torso, a new one going to dry his hair.

Being taken care of and spoiled is something completely new to Simon— the last time was when he was a baby, his mum bathing him and trying to give him a nice experience despite his father's protests about her spending money on what he thought was bullshit, He closes his eyes, placing all his trust on you to take care of him without feeling burdened.

“Now we're gonna do skincare, I got some new products for you that I'm dying to use.” You coo at him, excitedly holding his hand and guiding him back to your bed, helping him lay down on the freshly changed satin sheets.

He watches with amusement as you come back with a pink basket overflowing with skincare products that you bought specifically for him. You sit in bed, leaning down to plant a soft kiss before you start rummaging through the basket, trying to find a product to begin with now that his face is clean from the bath. He's never seen you this focused, the tip of your tongue poking out of your glossy lips. His hand goes to your side on instinct, rubbing up and down soothingly.

“Alright, so we're starting with a mud mask.” You put on your best YouTuber voice, making a small smile to set on his lips at the act. Your hands work carefully, the pads of your fingers gliding along his dry skin, spreading the grey mask all over his face, making sure to avoid applying it on his thin eyebrows and lips.

“Close your eyes.” Not only was he staring into your soul— you also have other plans for his eyes. You go to the skincare fridge in your closet, pulling out a small container with cold, cut slices of cucumber that you prepared the night before.

“Are you gonna kill me?” He asks jokingly, mirth in his tone despite the way he actually closes his eyes, fully trusting you.

“Not yet.” Your playful tone makes him smile, fully aware that it's all a joke. You put the cold slices of cucumber over his eyes, giggling at the way his face scrunches up at the feeling.

“Fuckin' hell.” It feels way too weird— completely new to him. You let the face mask set for a few minutes before cleaning it off with a wet cloth, removing the cucumber slices from over his eyes. The dark bags under his eyes becoming slightly less prominent. You lean down to capture his lips in a kiss that he immediately returns, his hand going up to your waist and running up and down gently, always looking forward to feeling your body.

“Alright, now we're gonna apply some cream.” You spoil me too much, he thinks. A small smile makes way to his lips, happy that he found someone who loves to dote on him this much without ever complaining about it. You're having fun taking care of him, making a little spa out of your shared flat.

Your soft hands massage the product all over his much softer skin, making you realize just how much better his skin has gotten ever since you started doing his skincare months ago. You tap the pads of your fingers on his skin as you get done, making sure the cream gets into his pores well.

“Do this.” You pucker your lips, grinning down at him when he does it back with no hesitation. You apply a small amount of strawberry lip balm all over his thin, chapped lips, proud at seeing the way they become softer.

Who cares if Johnny teases him about becoming a ''pretty boy''? He doesn't have a girlfriend who spoils him, while Simon does. Yeah, shut up, Johnny.

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

791 notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

Note

Street racer Lando pulling you into his lap when you need comfort 😭

A/N: Another one

"It's, it's just hard." You whisper, staring at the array of books and notes surrounding you.

Lando had just gotten home from one of the far away tracks. It was nearing 5 am and here you were wide awake. Not in his bed, asleep wearing his shirt where he could come in and sleep behind you.

He had the whole morning planned. Come and sleep, cuddle, breakfast for you, you being his and then soft and kinky sex the entire day. But he threw those plans out when he came in and saw you having a freakout.

"Baby?" He was so confused and worried. "Lando, I can't do this. I can't okay, I wanna drop out." You cry wiping your eyes as you try to pull yourself together. "Baby," His tone is softer as he realizes what's happening.

"Please Lan, please it's just so much." Lando moves to your side, careful of your notes and textbooks. "Baby, Y/n, look at me." He sits down and starts cleaning up the mess. "You don't want to do this, you're tired and overworked. Let's go to bed and get some sleep." He whispers, but you shake your head no.

"No, no, I wanna drop out. Maybe we can travel to the world together. Come on, we can get a cool car and you can race around the world like you and guys always talk about." Lando smiles, touched you remembered his drunken rambles.

"Y/n, you're brilliant. We can talk about this in the morning." Lando whispers, fixing your hair and starts to clean up your notes. "Lando?" He turns with a hum and sees the fresh tears. "Will you stay with me? Even if I drop out?" Lando laughs, sitting down.

With one swift movement he pulls you into his lap. His clothes cold which feel wonderful on your overheated skin. "I will love you, when we're old. My balls are just flappy ass sacks and you are all wrinkles and grey. I'll love you when we're poor and rich, sick or healthy. If you killed me, I'd still love you and I probably deserved it. Nothing, and I mean nothing could ever stop me from loving you. If you broke up with me, I'd still love you and wait my entire life for you."

Sniffling you wipe your eyes as he pulls you into his chest holding you close to his chest. "Lan, I'm tired." Lando chuckles as he nods, letting you sag against him. Lando would need to talk about this further in the morning

837 notes · View notes

yourbestprincess · 11 days

Text

Mein Kleines Mädchen

Older!König (40s) Young!reader (18- early 20s)

Giant age gap but y’know, size kink, slightly hyper fem!reader, reader is a female, König is rough and also has a cute little German accent and calls you cute pet names in German, König is also your dads bestie but not anymore! Creampie, slut-shaming but also praise , fingering.

Hope I didn’t miss anything! XD

(Gentle reminder that König is HUGE, I'm pretty sure he's 6'10 which, if you're average hight, is ginormous.)

You’ve always thought König was overly attractive, but you would never do anything…I mean he was your father’s best friend.

He always eyed you when they hung out, which was rare because he was always deployed.

König was way bigger than you were, he merely towered over you when you two would talk. Which, to say the least, you loved.

You thought he was so attractive. From how big he was to his greying ginger hair to his blue eyes which looked at you in such a way that made your stomach flutter.

****

He was finally coming over today. You were finally in collage now, in your eyes a grown woman.

He was staying the night according to your dad because he got kicked from his apartment from being gone so long, to which you weren’t complaining.

It was so early; almost too early, but you heard a knock at the door. Even before he knocked you felt his presence. Your heart pounds as you peak out of your window to see his car. You walk down the stairs, only in an oversized white t-shirt that covered your tight black shorts. You clear your shirt of any wrinkles before looking through the peephole and opening the door.

“Guten Morgen, schatz.” He smiles softly. you notice that he’s still quite dirty.

“Oh, ‘morning König.” you smile back softly before letting him in, your heart still pounding in your chest, it feels like it’s gonna run away.

He gives you a lousy side hug and drops his bags on the stairs before giving you a forehead kiss.

“Mm.” He breathes you in “Schatz, where is your father?” He backs away slightly to give you some sense of personal space.

“He’s working today until about 8:30. Sorry, I should probably let you settle in and shower I know you’re tired and-“

“Shh, liebling. Stay with me, I suppose I need some company, ja?” He looks down at you, reaching his calloused hand over and putting it on the side of your head in which you lean into.

“Okay, well first let me draw you a shower.” You bite your lip gently before leading him into the upstairs bathroom next to your room. He follows you, humming something you swear you've heard before.

"Du bist so ein liebes kleines Mädchen" (You're such a sweet little girl) König snickers while trailing so close behind you that he's basically hovering over you.

He thought you didn't understand what he was saying. You really touched up on your German before he came back from whatever mission he was on. You knew he said things to you in German before, but he never thought you'd know. Not until now. Your blood wastes no time making your cheeks hot and red with straight fluster.

He grips your arm and turns you with his mere strength. "Oh dear. Du verstehst jetzt?" (Oh dear. You understand now?) He tilts his head, squatting down to your hight.

You try to look down but he forces you to look up at him with your practically pathetic puppy eyes. "Ja...since you got deployed again. I should've told you, but I just wanted to know what you were saying to me."

His eyes feel like they're staring sharply into your soul, like he was looking straight into your heart. He knows that your heart grows and yearns from him. "Ja? Good girl." His accent spills out more when he's eager.

"C'mon lieb." He stands back up letting you finish showing him to the bathroom. You turn on the shower and make sure its the perfect temperature for such a man. You set out a towel and an unopened bar of soap.

"Okay, there you go. You can..um meet me in my room when you're done." You say with just a little bit of excitement in your voice.

"Ja, liebling." He says with a soothing voice rather than before.

As you wait in your room, you change into a pink see-though lingerie dress with a matching pink thong. To top it all off, you wear some white thigh high socks. You sit pretty on your bed and wait for him to get out of the shower.

****

You hear a knock at your bedroom door. "Hey, Liebling? Can I come in?" You ignore it for a second but before you can cover up he busts through the door.

"Mein gott liebe. Scheisse... don't do this to me. You know I can't hold back." His is heavy. It's obvious that blood went to his dick just from looking at his towel.

"I don't want you to hold back." You say as he steps into the room. His hair wet and towel barley covers his v-line. He sighs and walks closer to you.

“Mein schatz…What a fucking tease are you? Gut Gott.” He towers over your small frame, lifting up your legs and pressing kisses on your thighs as he props them up on his shoulder. His cock is fully hard, it’s throbbing and oozing out pre-cum.

“Bitte…König. You know how many years I’ve been waiting for this..” Your panties are so soaked that it’s visible. Who knew you’d be such a slut for the man who was there when your father wasn’t.

He moves your panties to the side with his middle finger. He pushes his middle and ring fingers inside you and rubs his thumb on your throbbing clit. You cry and whine under his touch. He knows how bad you need him.

“Is this too much schatz? If it is, how am I going to put this cock in you? It craves you, you know that liebling?” He takes his hand away from your wet entrance and lets the towel fall to his ankles. His cock springs up, you can see pearls of pre-cum dripping onto your bed. He gives his drooling shaft a couple of pumps before spitting on his middle and ring finger to wet your entrance just enough to fit his massive cock.

“Ready liebe?” He shoves the tip past your entrance making your shutter and whine from the size.

“Ja, you’ll be okay mein schatz.” You bite your lip and cry with him going deeper, trying to fit his 8 1/2 inches in your tight pussy that’s just taking him so well.

“König…s'too much..Bitte! Pleasepleaseplease!…” You whine and moan from the pain. Your thoughts are clouded with pure white pleasure. You know how wrong this is, but, Mein Gott, is it worth it. You're gripping his back and begging for god knows what.

“Nimm es einfach wie ein braves Mädchen, ja? Getting close for me already, Gut gott." (Just take it like a good girl, yeah?) König can't help but notice how pathetic and weak you are under him. His blunt tip pushes against your g-spot over and over again until you're crying and going cock-dumb over him.

" Du liebst es einfach, wie eine Schlampe gefickt zu werden, nicht wahr? What a good fucking girl for me." (You just love getting fucked like a slut, don't you? What a good fucking girl for me.) You can feel his thrusts getting sloppier and heavier. His breath begins to hitch and he can't help but whimper just a little from how tight his Liebe is.

"König...gonna cum right now.. Vati... fuck- feels s'good..." Before you can even think about getting close, he pulls out of you and sits down on your bed, getting comfy before motioning you to sit on his lap. You slide off your panties and see-through dress, craving that skin to skin with him.

"Ja, that's it Mein Schatz, ease down on me, you've got it Liebe" As you sink down on his fat cock, he notices that it makes an indentation on your tummy.

"S'too much König... too big." You barely make out in whimpers and cries. He continues to thrust deeper into your sopping cunt. You really hope your dad isn't gonna come home anytime soon.

"Shh, It's alright, you'll be okay Mein Liebe. Just let me use this pretty pussy, ja?" He pushes his cock so far up into you that you were genuinely surprised on how he was able to bottom out in you. His thrusts are sharp and fast with so much power that you moan everytime he thrusts. König knows you're close from the way you're clenching down on him and how loud your moans are.

"Bitte... I need to.." You cry out before König's thrusts become sharper and somehow even faster.

"I know, I know. I'm gonna come with... scheisse- come with you, okay?" He can't stop grunting now, its all pleasure now. White pleasure clouds his visions.

"Christ- Ich liebe dich schatz- fuck. I always have. And look, now I get to fuck this little body of yours and even fill you up with my cum, eh?"

His vision returns to you, already cumming on his cock. So pathetic, you can't even speak. You're too entranced at cumming on his thick cock to even think. And now here he is, filling you up with his potent cum. He pumps and twitches just a few more times until you two ride out your orgasm.

****

"Was I too much Mein liebe?" He wraps his big arms around you as you snuggle into him. warm sheets cover your bodies.

"You were perfect. Everything and more than what I was ever expecting." He wraps you into him even tighter, pressing kisses on your forehead and soft lips.

"Ich liebe dich auch, König."

Your dad's gonna be so pissed when he finds out his little girl is getting fucked by his so called best friend.

#konig smut #konig age gap #könig x reader #könig cod #könig x you #cod #könig call of duty #I love German men #cod smut

350 notes · View notes

blackopals-world · 11 months

Note

Your Implied relationship Twisted Wonderland fic was so good please have a part two where the bys come back to visit and find out she has a son. Also her son finds out she´s the missing princess in the books she wrote. This is SO GOOD O MY GREAT 7 PLEASE PART 2! PART 2!

Okay Okay! I'm listening!I'm listening!

I Found Home

Part 2

(part 1)(part 3)(Part 4)(part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)

Implied relationship

Yuu x twisted cast

Implied relationship in the first half.

Yuu opens the door to find...

Yuu took a deep breath as she opened to door hoping that she heard correctly. She knew that voice anywhere.

"Henchmen!" A ball of grey fluff barreled into her.

"Grim?!" She gasped as the air was pushed out of her lungs.

She had to be dreaming.

What a cruel dream this was. To see her Grim again would mean crossing over to that world but leaving her Grimm behind. How cruel, how impossible.

"Yuu!" The cat cried rubbing his furry form against her in affection. Every so often headbutting against her face.

"Oh Grim." She sighed tearfully wrapping her arms around him " How did you get here?"

The cat familiar pulled away and smiled smugly.

"Obviously, you can never leave me behind. The great and powerful Grim created portals to countless domains." He proclaimed.

"By which he means we created a portal to find you." Another voice entered.

The feathered cloak and bird mask told her everything she needed.

"Crowley." Yuu gasped.

Once upon a time, she hated his guts but in time she understood him. In the years of staying at the school she saw a side of him that others didn't. He was negligent and overdramatic but he protected her in his own way.

Crowley was true to his word about searching for a way back home for her, but he pushed her to stay. He had doubts as his research found little evidence. Not to mention the chaos going on campus. Grim and Yuu's antics didn't help certainly. Back then she thought it was revenge but it only made things harder.

During her last year asked her to remain in twisted wonderland because it would be easier than readjusting to her old world.

She saw through him. He just didn't want her to go. But a promise was made.

"Look how you've grown," Crowley said wistfully as he moved his mask. "Hard to believe it's only been a few years."

Yuu held back a laugh as she saw him. A few streaks of graying hair stood out from the black. His eyes seemed to wrinkle with the beginning of crow's feet. His job must be aging him prematurely. He definitely seemed more tired. Best not to make fun of an old man.

"Nice to see you too." Yuu said

Their reunion halted when footsteps came stumbling down the stairs. Grimm had woken up and came looking for her.

"Mama.." He called out to her rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Mama."

Yuu couldn't speak as her son saw the strange figures in the house.

"Mama?" Grim repeated astonished, bewildered as he looked back and forth between the parent and child.

"Nina?" Grimm asked.

Answering Grimm's questions this late would be difficult without any prep. So she took the easy way.

"Honey your sleepwalking. You should get back to bed." Yuu thanked the heavens that Grim looked like a walking stuff animal.

Grimm nodded and yawn before stumbling back to his room.

"I have a grandson?!" Crowley gasped "Wait your married?!"

"Of course not, I'm too young an-" Yuu started.

"But not too young for a baby? Do you not remember what I said about protection? Who fathered your child? Who was this bastard who left you to raise this child on your own?"

"It's not like that."

"Was it one of your old 'friends'? Even if you left for your old world it doesn't absolve them of responsibility. Regardless now that the gate is open there will be no choice but to be a father to their child. Divus will have fit when he finds out." Crowley ranted taking a seat on the couch as Yuu tried to calm him down.

"No , I adopted Grimm. He's not related to them."

Crowley wasn't hearing it.

"Honestly when that boy asked for me and Crewel's blessing I knew we were right to say no. And don't lie young lady that child looks exactly like-"

"No, he doesn't!"

They argued back and forth as Grim snuck upstairs through the open door to the room that the little boy slept in.

The room was decorated wall to wall with trinkets, stuffies, and books. On the bed, the boy slept hugging a grey cat with a bow.

Grim shifted closer to examine it when a pair of eyes popped open.

"Nina?" There was that name again "You came to life!"

"My name is Grim, boy. The great and powerful magician!" Grim crowed.

"No, I'm Grimm. That's my name."

Grim paused. Yuu named him Grimm. After him. She didn't forget him. Did she love him that much?

"That's. That's a great name." He said simply as he climbed on the bed "You should sleep. Your mom has always been a stickler for stuff like that."

The familiar curled up against the boy and purred as he lulled them to sleep. Grim could accept this, his new 'little henchmen'.

Meanwhile, Yuu continued to bicker with her old guardian. Crowley wanted visitation rights, family vacations and a chance to see if his grandson might have magic. To which Yuu said no.

Grimm wouldn't be exposed to magic. Not the expectations that came with it or the people who use it. It's not a world made for him. Grimm had been through enough, he has his own trauma and she wasn't making magic part of it.

"I'm not sure you'll get a choice. Not with the gate now open."

"Grimm doesn't have magic. I won't let him be treated the way I was for it. He deserves better."

"Mama!Mama!" Grim shouted as he stumbled down the big steps. He clung to the railing with both arms to safely.

Yuu finished had cutting up Grim's pancakes as he made it down and ran straight to her. He threw himself at her as his arms wrapped around her hips.

"Careful, sweetheart. You almost knocked me over." Yuu picked him up and sat him at the table. Grimm's seat had a cushion to make it easier to see over the table.

"Cake! Thank you mama!" He smiled picking up his fork from his colorful placemat.

Yuu held back a squeal of joy. Her baby was so so cute and so polite.

"No, they are pancakes. We change the name to make it okay to eat in the morning.

"Cake is cake!" Grimm hooted back.

Yuu didn't argue.

"Mama, I had a dream. Nina was walking and talking!"

"Oh," Yuu said not having a better response.

She had a lot on her mind. The sudden appearance of Grim and Crowley disrupted Yuu's life. She was happy to see them but...it's a lot to adjust too.

She didn't even like the idea of Grimm learning about magic. She had dealt with her own resentment in the past when she was mocked for her status. It would be unfair to make him go through the same. She's a mother now and had to consider these things.

Maybe she was making a mistake.

Grim at least got to meet his little brother. It's too bad he needed to return with Crowley for the time being. Once Yuu was sure they would be a family again. Grim will always be the exception no matter her doubts.

(From this point the story goes on to show the first meetings with the twst boys. Each will be Grimm's first contact so there won't be continuity)

Riddle

"The Mentor"

No one believed Grim when he said he made a stable gateway to Yuu's world. All of them had tried and failed even Malleus couldn't do it. But Grim was different he had a connection to Yuu. If Yuu still had a strong connection a gateway could be made.

Grim now worked at the school helping Crowley and called everyone to deliver the news.

Riddle thought it would be appropriate to visit. He took the day off, his cases would wait one day. He had worked his way up to district prosecutor recently.

The first thing he noticed when he reached the scenic neighborhood was how peaceful it was. The house were spaced apart and it was clean. Lots of trees and gardens.

The second was one particular house where a young woman was kneading by a flowerbed. She was so focused on her roses that she didn't notice him but Riddle knew it was her. Just like him, time had changed some features. He had grown taller and lost some of his boyish looks but she no different. She was softer in appearance, glowing and matronly even. She grew out her hair but she tied it up.

Riddle reflexively straightened his suit jacket and shifted the bouquet he had brought in his arms. He wondered if she still liked these flowers.

Just as he tried to call her name a loud yelp rang out.

"Ma-ahh!" The exclamation became a wail of pain as a little boy appeared holding out a finger.

Yuu sprang up as she went to the side of a weeping boy. He had pricked his finger on a thorn.

"It okay Grimm. Don't panic, it'll only hurt a moment. You should never touch roses without gloves." She scolded gently. "You know better then that."

"But I wanted to see a red rose. So I thought if I painted one it would turn red. Like in the book." He whimpered as Yuu took out a bandage from her pocket and wrapped it on his finger.

"Grimm you know that in the story that red roses belong to the red king. And that sort of spell was done only by his loyal card soldiers." She admonished.

"Like The Ace Magician and The Spade Mercenary?" He asked.

"Yep, they had orders to do those tasks and you should ask permission to do it as well. Those are the rules. Don't you want to follow the rules?" Yuu asked.

Grim nodded quickly as he gathered his scattered paint and went to put them away like a good boy.

Riddle had hidden himself during the exchange. His mind raced. She had a son. Of course, she had a kid. Why wouldn't she? Anyone with eyes would want her. Anyone with a brain would fall for her. So seeing her married with a family is common sense.

Perhaps the flowers were too much?

"Hello?"

Riddle didn't get time to change his mind as his hiding spot was discovered.

"Hello, Yuu. I brought these for you." He tried to sound calm as he presented the bouquet.

"Riddle!" Her smile was still as warm as it was before. "Oh my, look at how tall you've gotten! You look amazing! How have you been? Come inside, I'll make some tea."

The pair talked amicably as Yuu put a kettle on. All the while a pair of eyes peeked out from a doorway. It was the boy.

"Grimm it's rude to stare. " She scolded.

"Sorry mama." He said but didn't move.

"Grimm? I bet you had to explain that one to your husband." Riddle tried to sound jovial.

"Not really, I don't have one. It just us here." Yuu smiled.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

There was a tug on Riddle's sleeve as Grimm got his attention. In his hand was a book; "The Lost Princess in the Red King's Court"

"Oh, do you like this book? I never read stuff like this at your age." Riddle said taking the book gingerly. He flipped through the pages as the pictures looked eerily familiar.

Grimm leaned on Riddle as he pointed at his favorite characters.

"Mama made this. The lost princess gets kidnapped by a giant crow and is dropped far away from home. She lands in the rose garden and makes friends with a magician and a mercenary who was summoned to work for the king." Grimm explaind

The story continued. The magician and mercenary protected the princess from a troll as they journeyed to see the king. The princess meets a magic cat that she kept. (no, this isn't Wizard of Oz) When they arrived at the Red Kingdom they were bombarded with rules and when the magician was asked to kneel before the king he refused. As punishment, the magician was sent to the dungeons. The princess was the only one not locked away so she frees her friends and challenges the king. The princess pleads with the king to see the dark spirit haunting and the gang banishes it. It ends happily when the king makes the boys knights and asks the princess to stay. She denied him so he told her about a neighboring kingdom that might help her get back home.

It was an extraordinary tale that Riddle knew by heart. Even if the details were changed. It didn't mention that Ace became the next "king" after Riddle graduated. Something Yuu complained about often after the power went to his head.

"That's quite the story. You must really like it." Riddle said hand it back to Grimm. "Do you have a character you like most?"

Grimm looked over to his mom be standing on his tip-toes and whispered into Riddle's ears.

"I like the princess."

"Really?" Riddle asked.

"I tried painting the flowers because she really likes red flowers like the princess. All the flowers turned white to red and the princess liked it." Grimm said proudly.

"I have an idea. I know a way to turn roses red. I could show you." He whispered back.

Grimm squealed in excitement and bounced on his fet as he turned to him mom.

"Can we play outside mama?"

Yuu pursed her lips indecisive of what to do next. She fought off the impulse to be suspicious. She trusted Riddle but did she trust him with her son. They hadn't seen each other in years after all.

She also wanted to be a selfish and keep him to herself. She hungered for the familiarity he brought back into her life.

But the warm gaze Riddle gave her settled her mind. She nodded in agreement and watched Grimm drag him away.

From the window Yuu watched as Riddle kneeled down next to Grimm. He had forgotten about trying to keep his suit clean as he pulled out his wand and handed it to Grimm.

Yuu immediately wanted to rush outside to stop him with every excuse as to why Grimm wasn't ready for magic but stopped herself. Grim wasn't her. He wasn't going to go through what she did.

Riddle taught Grimm how to hold the wand properly and asked him to imagine red roses in from of him. Grimm asked a million questions as Riddle calmly answered.

A good mother doesn't press her fears on her child. She wasn't going to traumatize him like she was. Riddle felt the same. He wasn't his mother and never pushed Grimm farther then needed.

A bit of wordless magic later the roses turned a brilliant ruby red.

"Mama! Mama look! Magic! We used magic" Grimm was in awe of this man.

Yuu cheered along when they returned inside knowing that Riddle did all the work.

"Don't you want to give them to the princess? You know that they are her favorites." Riddle smiled kindly.

"Princess? Mama?" Grimm looked to her with a questioning gaze before recognition lit up in his eyes.

Yuu felt her face burning so red that Riddle would be jealous. Which he wasn't but he couldn't help but think it was payback after all these years for her antics.

(This series might take a while to finish. I'm going to try to post more lengthy fics for characters)

Tag List:

@kamisatoaiko@professionalreblogs@kai200x@lianreine@loivre@jackalope08@code-roevember@growingupnrealizing@ryxmix@rainbowcake1212@blazestar0525@botswanasvetlana

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #twisted wonderland riddle #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #dire crowley #twst dire crowley #twst divus #divus crewel

1K notes · View notes

cozyquinn · 1 year

Text

Not bad, old man

Hopping on the older!eddie hype here, seeing as its the only thing I've been able to write anything for recently, bloody writer's block. I'm a sucker for age gap fics, so couldn't resist going for the upper end of the age gap here- Eddie is late 40s, reader is written to be 22-24 (these ages are not mentioned in the fic but they are the ones I had in mind when writing)

A/N: I've left reader's description as bare as possible, down to not specifying what clothes are worn by reader to make it as plausible as a self-insert as possible. I hope it doesn't retract any from the fic! Not 100% happy with this one, but hope it suffices!

I have since gone back through and amended parts that perhaps could have been thought through a little better and added bits in to smooth things out a bit!

Also, I do not give permission for my work to be replicated or reposted anywhere.

summary: When Eddie agrees to resume his place in Corroded Coffin for one night as a favour to Gareth, he doesn't expect the Hideout to offer an opportunity to go home with anyone, let alone the pretty girl half his age.

warnings: 18+ smut ahead, minors DNI. Blogs interacting with this work who do not have their age in bio will be blocked.

No established timeframe, NO established relationship, older!Eddie x fem!reader, NO use of Y/N

trigger warnings for: age gap, daddy kink, use of pet names (sweet thing, sweetheart, baby, baby girl), use of 'fetish' or kink related nicknames (Daddy, Sir), p in v intercourse, oral (f receiving, mention of m receiving) spanking with hand, choking aftercare at the end! Please let me know if you find any others, but also note that this list is not exhaustive- please consume content safely and cautiously! If you don't like this kind of content, please just scroll on!

Your sober mind does little to dull out the unpleasantness of the Hideout in all its stale and smoky glory. The unfamiliar surroundings and gawping eyes of older men have you shrinking into the peeling wallpaper.

Only here thanks to the lack of excitement anywhere else mid-week in Hawkins, Indiana, and the promise that the headlining bands didn't always suck, you settle yourself comfortably against the wall.

Swearing to yourself you'd stay sober tonight, you nurse a tepid Coke -if you could call it that- in your hands, the measly dash of ice now fully melted by the heat of your hands and the heavy smoker's breath filling the room; condensation on your glass matching the slow drip of perspiration at the nape of your neck, both cooling your skin some.

A murmured voice announces the headlining band of the night, and you watch as four older men bustle on to the stage; a concoction of greying hair and fading ink that adorns the skin on show.

The band's entrance is blighted somewhat by a commotion amongst the 18-strong crowd; an elderly patron being shooed from the bar for his rather chancey grope at the band's sole groupie's backside.

On the stage, Eddie shakes his head with a smirk, remarking to himself how some things never change. The wrinkles forming around his eyes deepen as he squints into the cheap fluorescent lights blaring down on him.

Breathing in the stale air of his old stomping ground offers him a little confidence, but doesn't mask the time passed since he was last here; reminiscing on days of shooting the shit until early hours and thrashing himself across the stage until his bones ached.

He scans the room finding mostly dull eyes, only partly bothered by the presence of the aged misfits readying their instruments; the overall response not helping to calm his nerves from years of avoiding any kind of stage presence. This appearance was just a favour to Gareth, after all.

That is, until his eyes fall on you tucked quietly to the side of the room. Entirely out of place, but a gracious reprieve from the groaning oldies giving Eddie an age complex in his forties.

He feels a pang, a warmth, radiating from you across the room; he shakes the years from his heavy shoulders, only breaking your eye contact with a confident wink in your direction.

You quirk a smile up at the older metalhead on stage, his eyes glinting back in amusement as his bandmate musters up an anticipatory drumroll behind him; the rumble sent out across the floor lit a flame of energy below your feet, the vibration coaxing boldness through your bones as you sway to the music.

You keep your eyes trained on him throughout the set, darting between the silver strands scattered throughout his brown curls, his strong hands adorned with rings commanding control over the slender neck of his guitar, and the snarling twitches of his lips as he belts out vocals.

In Eddie's mind, the set goes without a hitch- minus the few misplayed notes dotted here and there from a lack of recent practice. 'Not bad for an old timer, huh', he thinks to himself.

He sets down his guitar, letting the guys know he was heading to the bar to wetten his hoarse throat.

Despite his best efforts to resist temptation -to remind himself of his seniority- he finds himself veering towards you where you'd settled on the left side of the bar, taking in your misplaced youthfullness amongst heavy smoke and wrinkled skin.

He approaches you, announcing his presence to your turned back with a kind greeting to the bartender. You turn your head just as his palm gently brushes your shoulder.

"Hey there, sweet thing. Mind if I sit here?" He says, gesturing to the seat to your right.

"Go ahead" you nod, turning to face him as he settles onto the fraying fabric and creaking wood.

"Thanks doll, the name's Eddie"

He reaches for your hand, bringing your knuckles to his chapped lips; a blush rising from your chest as you garble out your own monicker with as much composure as you can muster. A tarnished ring catches your finger as he gently pulls his hand away, electricity seering through your palm in its wake.

"I see you stuck around for the set. What'dya think?" He keeps up the conversation, a warm smile never leaving his face.

"Yeah, I saw you up there. You were pretty good, for an old man" You quirk your shoulders, a sly grin gracing your soft features as you eye him up from your periphery; doing anything to force a calm facade amongst the flurry of entirely inappropriate thoughts breaching your mind as you eye him up close.

"Oh, low blow. You wound me sweetheart" He chuckles with a hand held mockingly to his chest, any suggestion of real hurt in his voice dampened by the deep-set grin adorning his face. He continues before you can respond.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing here, anyway? Would'na taken this place to be your kind of scene"

You shrug, dipping your head to focus in on your fingers fidgeting against the cup in your hands, doing your best to hide your blush from his attentive eyes.

"I guess I was just looking for something different. I'm sick of all those hyped up bars charging twice the price and offering glorified karaoke as headline bands, you know?" You say, a mischievous glint in your eye as you watch him through your eyelashes.

This earns you a deep chuckle, the gruffness settling heavily on your chest and lighting a warmth under your skin.

"Yeah, I get that" he nods, his eyes squinting in thought for a second.

"Uh, can I get you a drink? Least I could do since you stuck around for the whole set?" Eddie's eyes light up at his own gentle humour, a kind smile settled on his lips to keep you sweet.

Smiling sweetly in thanks for the offer, you reply.

"Oh, I'm not drinking tonight. Not alcohol anyway, just sticking to whatever sugar saturated crap this is supposed to be."

You raise your half-full cup to him with a laugh, trying desperately to ignore the throb settling between your thighs with each look he sends your way.

He laughs deeply, nodding understandingly at your response. He shifts on his seat, his calloused fingers reaching to scratch at the base of his neck.

"I forgot how humid this damn place gets" His voice is hoarse with age and strain but smoothens out with a cough.

He stands, shrugging off his thinning red flannel to reveal a plethora of faded ink dotted down his arms. Your eyes settle on the slightly blownout bats rounding his forearm; wondering what else could be hiding beneath the black shirt left hugging his torso.

Your heart thumps a little harder as your eyes scan out wider, along his broad shoulders and down towards his covered navel. The heavy breath leaving your lips thickens the air around you, winding around your throat in a way you imagine Eddie's rough hand would.

You're cruelly brought out of your thoughts by the sound of Eddie's voice above you.

"Hey darlin', you got a lil bit'a drool right-" he pauses, bringing his forefinger to the corner of his upturned mouth and brushing the greying fuzz above his lip.

You bring your hand up to your face with speed, frantically wiping and prodding at your lips; your mind burning with embarassment, your cunt betraying you with a clench.

He leans down, the scratch of salt and pepper scruff along his jawline tickling your cheek as his supple lips tease the shell of your ear. A gentle whisper sending a flush from your cheeks to your gently throbbing cunt.

"I'm just teasing ya, sweetheart" He takes a small breath before continuing.

"But don't think I haven't seen you eyeing me up. Didn't your daddy ever tell you it was rude to stare?"

His words punch a gasp from your chest, and his sly grin darkens the red tinge adorning your cheeks.

With eyes wide and pupils blown, you lean back. Your mouth agape, lips lightly trembling, as you search your clouded brain desperately for a response.

Eddie beats you to it, his right hand now gently approaching your cheek, his forefinger outstretched to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear; the clench of your thighs doesn't go unnoticed.

A quiet whimper leaves your lips as he brings you closer, his rough palm now caressing your neck. His thumb gently rubs along the vein pulsing through your skin, applying enough pressure to have your eyes fluttering closed and your hands reaching up to his tousled curls for purchase.

Without a second thought, your lips are on his. Chapped against smooth, you taste a hint of settled smoke and mint. You deepen the kiss, wanting to taste more of him. His rough tongue fights with yours, experience overpowering desperation.

His hands map out the path of your body, cupping and pinching in all the right places before they settle on your ass. Experienced fingers pressing into your flesh with a delicious sting, soothed by the lick of cool metal. His lips leave yours as he trails kisses along your chin, suckling a sweet red bud into your skin where your neck meets your jaw.

His mind fights an internal battle. He knows better, you've got to be at least half his age, but the aching pulse from his cock wins over.

"How about I show you what this old man can do, huh?" He growls into your ear, pulling you up onto your tiptoes as he nuzzles his strong nose into your throat.

You squeak out a "yes", the word drawling into a squeal when his teeth nip at your soft skin.

"Was hopin' you'd say that"

With that, he's leading you towards the door, leaving behind any semblance of your control and the now-flat cola you placed clumsily onto the bar.

Your feet stumble slightly underneath you as you try to keep up. The thrash of your thighs against each other with each small misstep eliciting a feeble whine from your lips.

Disregarding the call from Gareth across the room, Eddie thrusts you both out into the crisp air; gently draping the thin material of his flannel over your shoulders as he leads you to his van parked in the lot just a few feet from the door.

Throwing himself into the drivers seat with an urgency he thought he lost in his thirties, Eddie starts the engine and whips the van out of the lot quicker than your hazy mind can keep up with.

Your pulse races to the thrum of the engine, Eddie's hand squeezing your supple thigh leaves you twitching and aching for more; thanking all that's holy for the short distance between the Hideout and Eddie's trailer when he parks up.

He helps you out of his van, his arm flexing around your waist as he half-carries you to the threshold of his front door; swinging it open gently with the rattle of rusting keys.

"Sorry sweetheart. It ain't much, but it's mine" he murmurs, lightly gesturing to the small space of his living room.

You shake your head, a whispered reassurance of his home's perfection slipping through the crack of your swollen lips, you grasp his forearms with desperation, hoping he'll feel the throb of your hole through your hands.

Eddie seems to get the message, pointing in the direction of his room, sealing his promise of joining you in a moment with a kiss.

You rush to his room, peeling your outer layers of clothing from your body, fondling your breasts and teasing the slope of your hips as you go. Unclasping your bra, you toy with the straps in a teasing game, edging yourself with fingertip caresses against your skin.

A hungry grunt behind you grabs your attention, halting your sweet touches. You turn, gently circling your shoulders to tease away the straps sitting pretty on your clavicle.

You spread your arms out infront of you, sending your bra tumbling to the floor; a gentle request for closeness, your skin screaming to be touched.

Standing in just his underwear, Eddie's eyes trace your figure from top to bottom, his chapped lips being soothed with the brush of his tongue across them; you parallel his softness with a harsh bite to your bottom lip as your eyes follow the path of his tattoos to the bulge tenting his boxers.

The only reminder of his age sits at the edge of his eyes, the lines there softening his rugged look. He gives you little time to admire his mature but toned body as, with a feralness you've never before experienced, Eddie has you pinned to the bed.

His hips hold yours to the mattress, the giration of his pelvis offering sweet, agonising relief to your swollen clit through the layers of fabric.

He pulls away, planting hot kisses down your body with a desperation unmatched, the tickle of coarse stubble against your skin soothed by the drag of his warm tongue.

As he reaches the peak of your mound, your jittering hands inch down to circle your thumbs across his cheeks. His deep brown eyes settle on you, committing your vulnerable beauty to memory.

Your fingers loop through his hair, his silver curls adorning your digits like delicate rings as you rut your hips towards him. A sweet whine is all it takes to beckon the touch of his thick fingers through the cotton modesty of your panties.

You writhe and whine, begging for more; the blush of your cunt calling to his cock like a siren's song to a sailor. A slow stream of arousal fills your panties, hollowing the material to show the empty clench of your heat.

"Please Daddy"

It's barely a whisper but Eddie hears it, clear as a bell. His eyes widen for a moment, mirroring your disbelief at the words uttered from your mouth, before he's smirking into your clammy skin.

"What was that baby? Want to repeat that for me?"

You whine, shaking your head as your desperation fights shame. You squeeze your eyes shut and plead, "please Daddy, need you"

He smirks to himself. Whispering so low you'll never hear, "Daddy kink, huh. Should've guessed that one".

Raising his voice enough to flood your senses, his words ring out.

"Sweet little girl wants more, huh?" The smirk evident in his words.

He settles a rugged finger under your chin to coax your gaze back up to his, holding you there whilst you squirm; tears brimming your stinging eyelids.

"No need to cry sweetheart, Daddy's got you" he promises with a gentle tug and pull at the waistband of your panties until they hang idly from your ankle.

He wastes no time in blessing your bundle of nerves with his experienced tongue, branding the Munson name into your skin amongst calculated figure-of-eights.

You sob sweet nothings into the heavy air as his fingers breach the cusp of your entrance. His free hand takes purchase of your chin, curling you in on yourself to watch as the tattoos decorating his knuckles disappear into your heat with a squelch.

The cold sear of his rings against your sore folds has you hissing under your breath; each plunge of his fingers offering a new sweet wetness over the shimmering metal.

You beg to repay the favour, offering him your desperate mouth, as a blinding pressure builds in your core. He reassures you "next time baby", as you soak his fingers, extinguishing the flame of the inked candle on his middle finger with your wet.

Leaving you no time to regain your breath, his mouth is on your lips, your cheeks, your throat. Plump lips caressing your skin as the throbbing head of his cock kisses your entrance.

You whine as he enters you, the stretch unholy as you adjust to his size. His heavy balls rest against your pert arse and his hazy smile tells you he's exactly where he wants to be.

"That's it baby girl. Feels good, huh? Old man still got it?"

He taunts you with your earlier jabs. The curve of his cock relentlessly prodding at your aching walls, sweetening the sting of his jeering.

Flashes of white appear in your vision with each harsh thrust of his hips and snarl from his chest, and you grind your hips further down on to his pulsing cock.

You nod frantically to answer his question, your hands caressing his still-soft skin before puncturing your nails through the swell of his shoulders.

His desperation starts to show, his calloused hands slipping beneath your backside to hold your hips at an angle. His tip kisses your cervix, punching harsh moans from your chest as his thrusts start to falter.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart. Tell me where you want it"

Your head lolls back as you whimper a pathetic "inside me Daddy, please", your own words driving you over the edge to your honey-sweet climax as you quiver beneath him.

His cock throbs inside you, each flex against your walls sending aftershocks through your spent body. His forehead rests against your breasts, both of you rapidly chasing steady breath. As you calm down, he gently removes himself from you, rubbing soothing circles into your hips to lessen the sting.

"I'll be right back babygirl", he whispers into your cheek with a kiss, leaving the room momentarily to grab a damp cloth to clean you up.

You turn to him once the rise and fall of your chest has steadied, your bleary eyes finding adoration staring back. He smiles widely at you as he pulls you in close to his side, but you're the first to speak.

"You okay?", you ask quietly with a smile, not wanting to disturb the moment.

"More than okay. How you holdin' up, sweetheart?"

You only nod in response, your gentle eyes reassuring him that you were doing just fine.

His smile widens, a mischievous glint taking form as your eyes flutter closed.

He chuckles to himself, the vibration of his chest caressing your cheek as his gruff voice fills the air again.

"Not bad for an old man, huh?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot #older!eddie #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie x you

2K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 days

Text

Winter's King 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: wooooo, friday!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Despite the unease of the king’s proximity, you drift down into a hollow sleep. The sort that is grey and empty and dizzying. When you wake, you’re alone. The bed is sparse and spacious as you lay tucked in the blanket, snug around your figure. You slide your arm up as you feel a cool graze along your scalp.

You fix your cap back on your head, wrinkled from being caught beneath you. You roll onto your back and tug at the blanket until you can sit up. As you do, you notice the yellow beam around the silhouette at the window. The king’s hair shines brilliantly in the sunlight.

You rub your cheek, hot from friction with the pillow. You look down at the blanket rumpled around your waist. You kick if off and climb off the mattress. There is no time to be sleeping. By the slant of the light, you know it’s due time to rise. You turn to tidy the covers, pulling them taut, corner to corner.

You brush smooth your apron as best you can, a dent left diagonal down the skirt. You turn and glance towards the door. You don’t dare leave without dismissal, nor do you wish to break the king’s peace.

“You slept heavy,” he says without moving, “you must have needed it.”

“Your highness,” you croak through a dry throat. “I didn’t...”

“Didn’t what?” He wonders. “All must rest, even the mice and meagre.”

You bow your head and fold your hands. You stay as you are as he lowers his own head and his arms move as he fusses with something. There’s a soft tear and he brings something to his mouth. He turns and leans against the curtain, crushed to the stone by his weight.

“And they must eat,” he offers a morsel of salted meat.

“Your highness, it is generous--”

“But you mean to deny me,” he challenges. “Does modesty serve you as well as you serve others?”

You don’t know how to answer that. You press your lips tight and once more lower your chin. You wring your hands and markedly stop yourself.

He crosses the room with slow, long strides. He stops before you. The morning light limns his thick body through the white fabric of his nightshirt. He brings the strip of jerky before you, holding it below your nose.

“I do not trust a turncloak to feed me from his trough,” he intones, gently leaning the meat to your lips. “A king must worry about such things, but not a servant. Who would ever need taint their food, if they let them any at all.”

You look up at him. His eyes blaze down at you, stunningly gold, like sparkling coins. He prods with the strip and you open your lips to let it slip through you nibble through the thick morsel until a piece breaks off and he rescinds the rest, taking a bite of his own.

“It’s the last of my elk, and stale at that,” he explains, “in the hinterland, we do eat more than salt, but on campaign, we must eat what we have.”

You chew, watching him as he turns to pace. He makes you curious. He is a fearsome man, even in only a night shirt, but he thinks overly much.

“That summer maiden will not like the cold,” he mutters as he rounds the tub then comes back to you. Half the strip remains. He offers it, “take it.”

You do as he bids. He watches you intently as you hold the jerky and you bring it close to your lips. You stop, “thank you, your highness. You are a generous king.”

“No, I am a prudent king. Not always generous, not always cruel, only when the moment calls for one or the other,” he stays before you, eyes torrid as they cling to you.

“Well, you’ve been generous to me, your highness,” you say before you bite into the meat. It is heavier than what you are used to but tasty nonetheless.

“Prudent,” he repeats, “so I must send you away. Send you back.” He inhales, his broad chest lifting, making him appear even larger, “you have done your duty admirably, little maid.”

You chew, making a face as you can’t answer for your mouthful. He inclines his head towards you.

“No,” he shakes his head, “say nothing more. Eat and go. There is still a war to be won before I claim my kingdom.” He puts his back to you and marches back to the window, adding in a grey tone, “...and a wife.”

His last words are so quiet, so dull, you hardly can discern them. He leans on the window ledge as he stares off beyond the walls. The sun rises around him, casting him in gold. You swallow what’s left of the elk strip and shuffle to the door. As you open it, you hear a sigh, and you close it behind you without glancing back.

The king does not sound pleased with his nuptials. So is the fare of nobles and their titles. Often the very status that brings them privilege brings them just as much misery. A handmaid only need worry about her next task.

⚔️

Lady Jazlene is far more satisfied with her imminent union. She is aflutter as you enter her chambers. Merinda watches with dulcet irritation. The duke’s daughter flits around, throwing silks and satins. Lady Rezlyn watches her from a cushioned bench, a goblet in hand as she tuts and tisks at very choice.

“Mother,” Jazlene tosses down layers of goldenrod yellow, “if none should do, a new dress might be cut, yes?”

“A new dress? Of what fabric? We are in wartime, dearest,” Rezyn scoffs.

“And yet you have your reds and your citrus,” the younger accuses.

“I need wine to steel my nerves and citrus to fill my stomach. You needn’t a dress to live. You have many and more,” Rezlyn snickers.

“Mother, I swear you do goad me. He is a king. And the war should end soon. There must be silk to be had,” Jazlene whines, and what of jewels? Pearls? Emerald? Sapphire?”

Merinda shifts, you can sense her thoughts and the little whispers she’s hoarding away for you. She always has the sharpest quips about the pair of ladies and their whimsies. You do agree with some but you can no more blame them for being frivolous noblewoman than you can yourself for being a simple maid.

Jazlene continues her storm around the chamber. Her nerves are contagious, you can feel a similar stirring in your gut. Perhaps she realises the same as you do. All she knows is about to change irrevocably.

You try to think of what it will be like when she is married. She must have the same thoughts. You can’t quite picture it. Geralt sitting where Rezlyn does, perhaps he too holds a goblet, Jazlene rambling over her skirts and gems and all the things she wants. You don’t imagine he’d listen for long. Then again, you don’t know the king at all. Not enough to presume you would know.

Lady Jazlene puts a string of rubies around her neck and preens in the mirror. She points to you then her hair. You come forward and set to pinning her hair. Lady Rezlyn rises and you peek at her in the mirror. She scowls at her wine.

“Enough fussing, your father wishes us to see the king to break our fast,” the elder holds out her goblet and Merinda comes forward to take it. “And I need more wine.”

Jazlene shoos you away and stands. She hangs her shoulders and drags her feet, “mother, I will be a queen soon. You cannot order me around so.”

“Not as yet,” Rezlyn warns, “you have much to learn of being a wife before you worry so much of queendom.”

Jazlene huffs and pushes her shoulders back. She looks at her reflection once more, posing and posturing. She curves her lips in a wry smirk.

“Queendom,” she trills, “oh mother.”

“Yes, yes, don’t get ahead of yourself,” Lady Rezlyn stomps over to her daughter and takes her by the wrist, “you must first think of how to please your husband. As I can tell, it won’t be an easy task, and yet he is as any man is. He is... still a man.”

“Oh mother,” Jazlene giggles.

“Look at you, you are marvelous,” Rezlyn pets her daughter’s cheek. “He is a warrior; he holds his shield close but he cannot resist your beauty.”

The mother keeps hold of her daughter and leads her to the doors. You and Merinda follow at several paces. A habit to keep from trodding on their skirts. The enter the corridor and tension coils around them. The descend to the great hall and to the west wing where the dining hall resides.

Lord Dustan stands by the head of the table. On most days he would sit in that chair but he only paces around it, tugging at his little triangle beard. You rarely see him so restless. Often, he is as careless as his wife and daughter.

“Husband, I thought we were to break fast--”

“Yes, yes,” he waves off his wife’s words, “the king has yet to awaken.”

You stand by a statue, just to one side of the door. You cannot see the opening around it. You find comfort in its shadow, content to go unnoticed. You wonder if anyone looked upon you, would they see your thoughts. The king is awake but why hasn’t he emerged?

“What about the marriage?” Rezlyn asks, “a contract?”

“Wife, if I say it is to be, it is,” Dustan retorts, “must you ever heap upon me?”

“It isn’t my intent. I am only making certain our daughter’s future is secured. That our family name is to prosper. Husband, I ask in the interest of your profit.”

“You ask too much,” the duke hisses.

Before he can receive his wife’s sharp response, sturdy footfalls approach and mute their conversation. A shadow casts through the doorway and you know by the silhouette it can only be one person. King Geralt enters, unassuming in his mail and black clothes. His silver hair is half up, a braid down the back of it. He has his sword strapped to his back.

“Your highness, the cooks are preparing breakfast--”

“There is not time for you to sit and gorge,” the king snarls, “there is a war to be won. There is no advantage in waiting on word of your deceit to spread.”

Dustan has the grace to look ashamed. He twitches and paws at his overcoat, “I... your highness, I would need time to prepare for my departure.”

“You need mail and a sword. You have a barn full of horses. Mount it and we will be away.” The king insists, “my men march within the hour. We will remember who our allies were when the day is won.”

“Y-your highness, I--”

“That is the trouble with summer lords. You think war is played across a board,” the king growls. “war is won in blood and steel. If all you can offer me is words, I am not interested in this contract.”

“Your highness, I will ready. At once,” Lord Dustan kicks his heels together, “you are right. My spurs are ready.”

The king drones grimly. He sets his shoulders and opens and closes a fist. Jazlene looks at her mother then steps forward.

“But your highness, our marriage--”

“That contract will be met when I have my terms. When my kingdom is forged complete, then I shall have a queen. No sooner than that,” he grits at her.

“Ah, yes, certainly your highness, then you shall have my favour to ride with,” she pulls a handkerchief from her bodice, “to comfort you in the battles to come.”

She waves the cloth at him and he says nothing. He grunts and turns to her father. He grabs the duke by his scruff, “let’s hope you can sit a saddle. Carriages are not built for war.”

King Geralt turns, dragging the Duke of Debray like a stray cat. The king’s golden eyes flick over to you and his jaw ticks. He raises his chin just slightly as he passes, putting his eyes straight only as the meet the corners. He stalks from the room with his blithering ally in tow.

Jazlene presses her knuckles to her forehead and whines, “mother? Am I to wait anon for my husband? What shall I do? War, war, war! Does it ever end?”

“Daughter,” Lady Rezlyn sweeps around the table to grab her daughter by the shoulders, “there is no use in bawling. Do not be a child. You are of an age--”

“Of an age where I should be married!” Jazlene blusters. “How can I be calm when I am promised what I have always wanted and then it is snatched away?”

“The king will return. As will your father,” Rezlyn shakes her daughter, “King Geralt has made it this far, do not think he will falter now. And when he has claimed victory, he will return to keep good on his promise.” The Lady of Debray lowers her voice, “do you think that your father would break his oath on a chance? That he would gamble. No, he sees what the other lords deny. King Waleran is routed. This war will not last much longer.”

“Truly, mother?” Jazlene bats her lashes, “how do you know?”

“Trust your mother,” Rezlyn speaks as though her daughter is no more than a child. “Your father has risked his neck to claim you a king. Do not doubt him.”

Jazlene considers her mother, searching her face, and pulls her into an embrace. She lets out a shrill squeal and pulls back. Her cheeks round with glee.

“You’re right mother, this is a blessing. This will allow us time to alter a dress fitting for such a wedding.”

“Don’t forget a coronation,” Rezlyn adds coyly.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #winter's king #the witcher #medieval au

241 notes · View notes

devnmon · 1 year

Text

You Deserve the World

Originally written by @avanatural; credit to her for the idea and inspiring me as well.

Summary: Daryl's been insecure about his age starting to show, and is worried he'll lose you. You show him every way he won't.

warnings: comfort, (a lil angst), fluff, implied smut.

wc: 3.4k

Daryl's back ached.

He slid the bow from his back and dropped it onto a wooden side table, letting it clatter loudly. His vest was the next thing pulled off his body, left on the chair beside his bow. Unbuttoning his shirt, the cotton tightened around his biceps, until he finally ripped it from his torso and left the shirt on the ground behind him.

Now freed from the confines of his tight clothing, his arms stretched out, muscles flexing in the process. Daryl glanced around the room per usual, until his eyes came across the mirror in the corner of your room. Slowly, he sauntered towards it, pushing his shoulders down as he approached.

The archer studied himself intently. All of his features remained as they were - same cerulean eyes, distinctive birthmarks, scar crossing over his left eyebrow and part of his cheek, and his rounded nose. Daryl couldn't help the fact of time passing, and he definitely couldn't help the fact that aging was catching up with him. A few new lines on his face became more prominent, and the bags under his eyes from minimal sleep only bore into him further.

He tried to force a smile, but stopped before the realization of wrinkles and other lines made him even more self-conscious. Daryl grunted to himself, before running a hand through the tousled hickory of his hair. Sunlight hit the crown of his head, illuminating its unwashed state, along with the few grey hairs that managed to show themselves. The hairs of his beard were the first on him to become grey without him knowing.

Aging was an aspect of life he couldn't get used to. He didn't want to get used to it either. Though it was only a part of growing older with time. Not only did he grow accustomed to working out more often in order to stay on top of his game, but his hunting agility was having a lower success rate each time he was out there.

On the contrary, he'd been worried about keeping up with his partner.

You, the one of his dreams. If his aging continued at the rate it began, he was worried that you'd grow tired of his older features and desire someone younger than him. Someone better than him.

Daryl knew you were popular amongst the men of Alexandria, those better options only poking at the back of his throat as if it were bile waiting to give. Being in a constant state of hyperawareness whenever you two were out in the community had exhausted him to his core.

Every time one of Deanna's sons or any of the other guys in the community even caught a glance of you from across the courtyard, Daryl wanted to pummel them into the ground, but push you into their arms from his all the same.

Although Daryl felt this way, he realized the strength of your bond with him went deeper than just physical attraction. The two of you cared deeply for one another, and you always tried to clear his mind of any negative thoughts.

You're enough the way you are, my love. I don't want you any other way than that.

With a deep breath, Daryl decided to push the nagging thoughts from his mind and trudge over to the dresser. He fidgeted with the button of his jeans, pulling them off his legs and ending up next to the shirt he'd tossed as well.

There was conveniently another mirror in the corner, one that took the full image of him into account. It was noticeable to him when he'd noticed movement from out of his peripheral vision. It would have only taken a glance to the left before seeing his figure in full length. Stood in only a pair of boxers, his hands sifted through one of the dresser drawers, pulling out a pair of black jeans. A glance downward at his body stopped his movements, and the pair of pants fell from his grip.

Despite everything telling him not to, his eyes drifted to the left. Once the full image of him in the mirror hit his eyes, the disgusting thoughts he had a moment before busted down the door in his mind. Daryl stepped in front of the mirror, jeans left on the dresser.

Cerulean eyes raked over every inch of his body as harmful thoughts flooded his head again. His thighs weren't as taught as they once were, his pecs weren’t as defined. His fingertips grazed over the expanse of his belly, where some scars lay not as prominent as others. Eyebrows furrowed and a scowl made its way onto his face.

His partner was perfect to him, and he wanted to be perfect to them, too.

As if you'd read his mind, you came walking into the room, same smile on your face that made Daryl want to live forever. He hadn't noticed you at first, standing against the doorway. You tilted your head to the side, taking in the view of him in only boxers, hands tracing his stomach.

"Checking yourself out?" you chuckled softly, picking up a book on a dresser near the door.

Daryl's eyes locked on his reflection, his button nose scrunching up.

When he didn't reply with one of his quips or side comments like you were expecting, you took notice of the furrowed eyebrows and slouched state.

You'd noticed something different in Daryl these days. One look at the displeasure on his face, and you realized something was up. More solo hunts, fewer intimate moments in the bedroom.

Daryl, of all people, was insecure about how he looked.

Your lip caught between your teeth, dropping the book back onto the dresser. "Daryl, are you alright?" Shuffling over to him, you placed a hand on his shoulder. The contact made his muscles flex, the warmth of your palm against him growing his enamor for you.

Daryl sighed, knowing he'd been brushing you off every time you asked him if he was okay. His avoidance level had dwindled down to nothing, not wanting to push you away any more than he already had. You were his person, the one he could always confide in, and you listened every single time.

"Do you- Do you think I'm gettin' old?" he questioned under his breath, eyes still unwavering from the mirror.

Your chest tightened at the mere suggestion of his aging. To you, Daryl was the most perfect anyone could ever be- his aura, his personality, his appearance, his quips, even his idiosyncrasies, but most of all, his heart.

"No, I don't," you replied honestly, "You been thinkin' about that a lot, huh?"

Daryl's shoulders stiffened as he finally ripped his eyes away from the view of the mirror, turning completely to face you. Reaching out to cup his cheek in a loving touch, he leaned into it and closed his eyes.

"What made you think about that?" you inquired, letting go of his cheek and trailing your fingers over the soft hairs that adorned his face.

Daryl's eyes opened again, lines on his face reappearing in the furrowed state of his eyebrows. "I know the way those pricks in the town look at ya.. Younger guys."

Your gaze shifted back and forth from his sapphire eyes, the realization hitting you. "Is this about Spencer?"

When you'd first gotten to Alexandria, your relationship with Daryl was just beginning. You hadn't told the rest of your group about it yet, but from the first time you saw the older Monroe, he had his eye on you. He'd admittedly been attractive to you at first, but he had absolutely nothing on your Daryl.

Spencer had pulled you aside the night of Deanna's party, asking you questions about yourself and wanting to get to know you better. His motives seemed innocent but there was a slight glint of mischief in his eye. When he suggested something more perverted, you knew he only saw you as a one night stand and nothing more. You explained to him that you weren't interested, on account of being taken by a different, better man.

Spencer Monroe could never compare to Daryl Dixon.

"He didn't want me like you want me. I could never want that asshole, and I don't." If Daryl knew the things Spencer said about him after you told him you were taken, he would have pummeled his face into the ground.

"I'm way older than you," Daryl mumbled, "One day ya might wanna take him up on that, or any of 'em."

"You really think I want them? That they're better than you?" you questioned, your hand grabbing his.

"Don't ya think so?"

You scoffed, "What could any one of them give me? I know for a fact that they couldn't be as good to me as you are. I'm a damn lucky person to have you. I scored you, Daryl Dixon. Not the other way around. You always had my back, every time I've needed you."

"'Course I do, an' you always got mine, too. I jus' don't see why," He shook his head, "You don't gotta settle for me-"

"You know what? Enough, look into the mirror right here," you stated, grasping his shoulders and turning him to see his figure. "Let's start with your shoulders." You gave them a slight squeeze, flesh emerging from between your fingers. "They're so big and broad, and I'm obsessed with them."

Your statement made a corner of Daryl's mouth jolt upwards, forming just the tiniest bit of smile on his face. His mind brought him back to the memories of you gripping them when intertwined in a hug or kiss, but especially when you were making love.

You shuffled to stand next to him, affectionately running your fingers down his thick forearm. Meeting his eyes in the mirror, you took his hand in yours. "These hands and arms of yours are so strong, especially when you're holding me close, when you touch me. You know I appreciate how handy you are, especially when you're using that crossbow of yours, and working on your bike or cars."

Daryl hummed, intertwining his fingers with yours.

Smiling at his reflection, you continued, "I adore your stomach, know that? You're all muscle and firm where it matters most, but the softness of your stomach doesn't compare to the rest of you. I find that so incredibly sexy, know that?"

"Ya really like that?" Daryl questioned with disbelief, locking his eyes with yours in the reflection.

You nodded, leaning your cheek against his arm before placing a soft kiss on his bicep. "Yeah, I do." You already knew the tension in his body was starting to dissipate. "You wanna know what else I think?"

"Mhm," He replied almost instantly. Daryl felt selfish asking for your compliments, but he knew you'd give them to him every time he asked. It was simply too fulfilling to pass up.

"Your thighs are perfect, and they're such a strong part of you. I love sitting on them in your lap. And this?" You dropped his hand from yours, sliding it behind him to lightly squeeze his butt. He jolted slightly at the contact and smirked. "This is firm and so cute. A lot perkier than mine, too."

Daryl opened his mouth to speak, but your hands began to play with the hem of his boxers near his crotch, silencing him. "I assume this morning is a good example of what I think about this?"

His smirk widened, filling him with satisfaction of the fact that he could still make you feel good in bed.

"Don't even get me started on your pretty face," You shifted, cupping his cheeks with your hands again. Your eyes trailed over his face, taking in his intoxicating features. "Your eyes are so deep, like the ocean. When you look at me, I forget what I'm going to say most times."

Daryl shifted closer, purposely to make you flustered. His eyes met yours in the playful way he'd done a thousand times before, and you recognized the expression immediately.

"Don't do that to me now.." You said, rolling your eyes.

A hearty chuckle erupted from him at your flustered state, wrinkles around his eyes emerging once again.

"Your lips are so damn tempting, pretty and pink like they were made for mine," you went on, "You have perfect teeth and whenever you smile at me, my heart jumps a mile high. I'm also jealous of your birthmark, and how it gets to go everywhere with you on that handsome face of yours. But this..." you took a moment to run your hands along the wispy hairs of his chin and jaw, "is my favorite thing to feel when we kiss."

"Oh, really?" He questioned, that signature smirk of his growing inch by inch, "Guess I better kiss ya more often."

You beamed at his words, a blush rushing onto your cheeks as you let go of his face. "I'm such a lucky woman to have you, such an attractive man, by my side. You say guys notice me, but you aren't aware of just how many women practically drool over you when you're around the town. Warms my heart and makes me jealous at the same time," you confessed.

Daryl's head tilted to the side, "You got nothin' to worry about, sunshine."

"Well, neither do you, got that?"

He sighed, meeting your gaze with enamor filled eyes, another smirk tugging at his lips, "Yes, ma'am."

Daryl leaned down to your face and attached his lips to yours. His kiss was soft and slow, a low hum escaping you. His toned arms surrounded your waist, pulling you in close to his chest.

Your hands flew up around his neck, toying with the long strands, "I'm obsessed with your hair, too." You told him after pulling back from the kiss.

His grasp only tightened around you, arms flexing around your waist, bodies pressed together. Your foreheads slightly touched as you talked quietly.

"I gotta few gray hairs..." He retorted, those large hands of his snaking behind to your lower back.

"Yes.. and? You'd look so hot with gray hair."

"You sayin' ya wanna grow old with me, hun?" He inquired, hands squeezing around your butt now.

You grinned up at him through your lashes, "Of course. That is, if we live long enough to do so."

Daryl sighed, "Sounds good to me, darlin'. Now, I believe you were talkin' about my hair.."

You took the opening to run your hands through his bangs, pushing back the strands of hair that framed his face. "I love your long hair, It's so pretty and wavy, for a man like you. I'd love to braid it sometime, if you'd let me. Don't think a guy like Spencer could pull it off as well as you do."

"You love playin' with my hair, don't ya?" He questioned, voice lowering. His large palms rested comfortably on your behind. Daryl enjoyed touching your butt, even when it wasn't in a sexual way. Because of you, he craved intimacy in its most raw form, and with you, it came even easier.

"Absolutely," you responded, taking away what little distance was left between them and rejoining your lips with his. Daryl picked up on the change in tension between you two and grasped at your behind a lot firmer than before, using his strong grip to push his crotch against yours.

You mewled into his mouth when she felt the tent in his boxers against you, but you weren't done yet. You placed your hands on his broad chest, and pulled back.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, eyes darkened with lust.

Your fingers found the tattoos on his chest, the heart and other small ones littered across his collarbones. "I have more to say, that's all."

"An' what's that?"

"Your body isn't the only thing about you that makes me crazy for you."

The thought of you worrying about him in this state made his heart race, since he hadn't been thinking very highly of himself. The truth was, Daryl had been thinking that way his entire life, and couldn't help it. Brought up by people who only put him down and made him think so little of himself, he weighed his decisions with every one he made. When he met you, though, was the first time in his life he'd witnessed genuine love and support. You managed to bring him back from those moments every single time he got trapped in one.

You knew he deserved to be loved the way he was, with nothing standing in the way between you and his true self. In this world, he deserved to be given the same amount of love and support that Daryl gave to everyone in the community.

Just hearing about what you thought of him, in every way possible, kept him going in the darkest of times.

"Daryl, there's never been anyone in my life like you, you're so good to me," you said, tone in your voice filled with disbelief. "You think anyone else could treat me the same way you do? Those pricks only want to get in my pants, and dropped me like a fly when they realized I wasn't interested. But you, you became my best friend before anything. You became the one person in my life who knew me. Like, really knew me. And then I just.. fell for you in the process. I'm the luckiest person in the world to have you."

You could've sworn a blush crept its way onto his cheeks, but he dropped his head before you could see better. Two of your fingers looped under his chin and lifted it again. "Don't ever hang your head, Daryl Dixon. You are the best man I know. I've never met anybody as caring as you. I see it in everything you do, the way you care about Rick, about that little girl, Jude? It warms my heart to see. You deserve the world, Daryl."

Daryl knew every word out of your mouth was true. He knew you would never lie to him, and even then, you were terrible at it. The minute you got lost in his ocean eyes, every little fib crumbled to nothing. Like all things, Daryl was better at expressing himself with actions, and not many words. He pulled you into another kiss, and it took your breath away. His strong arms hooked under your thighs, scooping your body up into his arms. A squeal threatened to leave your chest, but it only got swallowed by the archer's lips on yours.

Without restraint, he carried you over to your bed, one you both shared on many occasions, letting his weight fall back on top of it. You giggled as you landed on top of him, taking his pretty face into your hands again and slipped your lips between his. He groaned, hands attaching to your waist as you attempted to deepen the kiss.

Daryl slid his tongue across your bottom lip, making you moan into his kiss. In response, he opened his mouth to you, tongue gliding across yours with desire. A moment passed before Daryl pushed you over onto the bed, now hovering over you.

All the kissing made you hot, and pretty soon your hands were clawing at Daryl's boxers, chuckling at you as he pushed them down his legs, leaving him bare between you both.

"Hey, now. Tha's not fair at all, is it?" Daryl questioned, very upset with the fact that you couldn't be more clothed. His hands immediately went for your shirt, tugging it over your head. Your pants and underwear followed, placing hungry kisses along the expanses of your skin. There was something different about Daryl now, he hadn't resumed the usual acts of self-consciousness he had recently been taking part in.

Though his hand reached out to turn the lamp in your room off, he felt a restraint when his fingers met the button. Since the days of his insecurities, he felt safe in the darkness while making love to you. It meant security, and kept him from the nervousness that came with the thought of being judged by you.

But now, he didn't have a reason to hide anything from you anymore. His hand resumed his loving touches on your skin. You loved all of him, every single part. There wasn't anything luckier than that.

"How 'bout I leave this on?" he declared, locking his eyes with yours.

"I'd like that."

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon/you #daryl dixon & reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #ryesff #devnmon writes #devnmonwrites #daryl x you #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n

2K notes · View notes

oddheadd · 2 months

Text

Frostbite °• : ⁠｡ - Chapter III

Skinwalker/Wendigo x reader

CW: Gross things like rotting :P

SMUT!! Rough sex, voyerism, non-consentual at the end(?)

I couldn't sleep last night. The screaming kept me awake.

Screaming? It sounded animalistic, the broken voice desperately wheezing and calling for attention. I laid there helplessly, clutching my pillow and worrying about wether I locked my doors or not. I was too scared to check them, so I just kept staring at the curtains, my heart almost popping out of its place as I tried to look away from them.

I couldn't, and at about 5-6 am, when the screaming had stopped, I dozed off. I later woke up at 4 pm, and weirdly enough, I was inspired to write some more. I put my nightly terror into descriptive paragraphs and created a monster.

One with long, grey, skinny limbs and hair thin enough to see it's pure white eyes... Rotten teeth caging the slithering maggots in its hollow mouth.

I take a deep breath and close my laptop. I grab my phone and see that Nathan had texted me last night.

"Do you drink?"

I can't help but smile and instantly start typing.

"after whatever the hell happened last night, I do."

I put my phone away and make myself a quick meal. My phone buzzes.

"And what happned?"

I chuckle at his misspelling.

"I heard someone or something screaming. I couldn't sleep all night :("

He answers quickly;

"Jackals?"

And I answer just as fast.

"Kind of... It had an artificial echo to it? Don't know how to explain."

I purse my lips and put my phone down. Taking a bite out of the poor excuse of a meal.

"You could demonstrate, when I take you to a bar in the town."

Smile grows on my face as I reread his messages. I should go, what's the worst that can happen? So, we text each other the details and it's a date!

I leave the cabin and decide to look around the village this time. Ain't no way I'm going into the forest after last night.

I try my best to remember the way home as I walk past the other cabins. I admire the architecture - simple, but charming nonetheless. Then I spot a girl, no older than nine looking at me through the window. I smile and give her a wave.

She stays still and keeps staring at me. My hand falls back to my side, and so does my smile. I avoid her gaze and keep walking. I take a few pictures and maybe make a few angels in the snow, before I see an old woman, just barely walking. I approach her. - "Hello, want me to walk you home?"

I get a better look at her face. It's wrinkled, as if her skin is melting off her face. Her eyes are marble like, despite being as dark as coals. I can barely make out her lips that stretch into an uncanny line. Her hair as thin as the monster's that I made up.

She looks at me before her face scrunches up, even more, into a scowl. - "...What are you doing here?" - My mood falters.

"...I used to come here as a child... My mother passed and I decided to visit for a while." - I explain myself. She raises an eyebrow and grabs my arm for support.

"(Your mother)'s kid. You've... Changed, quite a bit."

I tilt my head. - "Do I know you?"

"You'd always steal from my brother's cherry trees. You used to be an annoying, little rascal."

I chuckle awkwardly. - "I get that a lot. So you live down the road?"

"You've become... A very appetizing person." - She says, avoiding my question. I try not to think about her weird wording.

"...Thank you?" - I say after a long pause.

"I used to be like you. Maybe my skin was healthier." - She scoffs, bits of her saliva falling out of her mouth. - "...Not fair... At all." - she sighs.

I stay quiet as she rambles, a little more comfortable now that we've approached her cabin.

"But whatever it wants, it gets." - She says. She tightens her grip. - "Count yourself lucky, being able to serve it like that."

After that I head straight to my cabin. I can't wait to drink with Nathan tonight.

Now as I stand in the snow, my ass literally freezing off, I start to feel disappointed. He promised he'd pick me up, but now I'm getting worried he got lost and mauled.

Tiny snowflakes start falling, adding onto the already layered snow that's coating the ground. I sigh and check my phone again. My frown intensifies, when I see there's no new messages.

I almost fall off the bench on the porch when I see a figure in the corner of my eye.

"Jesus, Nathan. Do you always have to scare me like that?" - I rest my palm on my chest, dramatically so.

He flashes me the Cheshire grin - "Sorry."

I get off the porch and shove my hands into my pocket, a wave of disappointment washing over me when the pockets are just as cold.

"I thought the huge deer got to you." - I tease.

He narrows his eyes. - "I'm at the top of the food chain, you don't have to worry about stuff like that." - He brags and gives me his hand. I take it with a snort, his hands as cold as mine. - "I don't think we can make it to the Bar, it's too far away. And, it's getting dark."

I pout. He chuckles. - "But I know how to make it up to you~" - He says and takes out a flask from his coat.

I raise an eyebrow. - "Charming."

I then walk back to the front door of the cabin and unlock it, going inside. - "Come on in, I'm freezing." - I complain and look at him.

He follows after me with a smile and looks around. - "It's pretty cozy in here."

I chuckle and sit him down onto the couch. - "I think we have some old wine in the attic. Try not to miss me too much."

"Don't worry, I'm patient." - he smiles softly.

I turn on the flashlight on my phone after a hard struggle against the attic door, coughing my lungs out when the dust flies around in the air. I climb up and start looking around the boxes for the wine.

I smile when I finally find it. There's two blood red bottles with no distinct label on them, so I pick them up. My smile falls as I see a... Doll? It's made out of straws, clearly resembling a human body. I pick it up and inspect further. Is this a hex? I put it back down and get up, chills running down my spine when I notice a big red symbol on the wall. I stare at it for a while before turning around and leaving with the bottles in my hands.

I have a guest right now, I'll deal with it later.

On my way, I grab go into the kitchen to get glasses.

"I only have mugs and teacups, no fancy glasses." - I say before grabbing the cups and sitting next to him. He throws his arm around my shoulder.

"I don't look like the fancy type though, do I?" - He chuckles and I shrug.

I pour us some wine and sip from my cup. - "So, why did you move here again?"

"Nature always called out to me." - He shrugs. - "And you, Y/N? What's your job and why did you come here?"

I purce my lips. - "Well, I'm a writer. I've written some stuff but nothing special, really. I wanted to write a horror book and came here to set the mood, ya know?"

"And how's that working out?" - He tilts his head.

I sigh. - "I'm having the worst writer's block I've ever had. Barely wrote a few pages."

"Let's see then." - He says, and I hesitantly agree. I grab my laptop and open the file, handing it to him.

I stand up and approach the fireplace, tending to it as he reads for a while.

"It's great." - He smiles and I look back at him.

"Is it?"

"A little complaint... You're trying too hard to explain all the details. Reading is all about letting people warp characters and places into whatever their mind makes up."

"...That makes a lot of sense, actually." - I sit back next to him. - "Can you help me?"

He eyes me and nods.

I don't know how much time passes, but we're now sitting on the floor and already have finished the second bottle of wine, now taking turns on taking a swing out of Nathan's flask. I've been taking notes, typing away furiously.

As I let out a deep breath, I look up from my laptop screen and the whole room starts spinning. I grunt and put the gadget away, placing my head in Nathan's lap. He chuckles and strokes my hair. - "Are you alright?"

"...A little tired. And dizzy." - I pout. Nathan just keeps smiling and sits me up again, making me look at him by taking my chin in-between his fingers.

I keep looking into his eyes and his smile never falters, only getting closer to my own lips. I instinctively close my eyes and part my lips a little, almost melting into Nathan's arms when they connect with his.

My heated cheeks heat up even more when he lays me down onto the soft, warm carpet and lets out a deep groan.

Then I can't even comprehend what happened, when I look to my side and see both mine and his clothes on the floor. Then I feel his erected cock, rubbing against me and realize I'm not wearing any underwear neither. I look back at him and pull him into a kiss again, moaning in delight. He then pushes it inside of me, spreading the walls to make more room for himself and and starts gently grinding it deeper out of me.

I lose track of time and what's happening again, and this time feel him mercilessly thrusting his hips against my ass, almost steaming air of heat spreading into the whole room while his rough fingers caress all the right spots. I let out moans and whimpers in-between my breaths, while he muffles his in my collarbone.

"Don't stop... Fuck, Nathan..." - I moan out his name and he looks up at me.

He then runs his fingers through my hair pulls my head back, giving me a view of the rest of the room, before he buries his face into my neck and leaves a trail of sloppy kisses.

I get closer to cumming, feeling myself spasm and squeeze around him, before I notice something in the windows. There are people outside my cabin... They're chanting something while drawing a symbol on the windows...

It's the same symbol as the one in my attic. I huff and try to stop Nathan but he can't even see my expression with his head buried into my neck. I shut my eyes and try my best not to cry... And soon enough, pass out.

#skinwalker #wendigo #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere smut #monster smut #nonbinary reader #smut #roughfuck

228 notes · View notes

zzprompto · 2 months

Text

☆ with you, eternally

astarion x male reader [he / him]

sypnosis: (spawn) astarion decides to step out into the sun after his partner passes away so they could be together forever. (meant to be viewed as romantic)

the lowercase is intentional !

- warnings: character death

it had been a while since all the mindflayers and the tadpoles and the brain. actually, it had been years. decades had already come and go since then, and astarion couldn't tell that so long had already passed.

yet, so many things reminded him that time was going past.

[name] was aging, gracefully in fact. astarion loved all the wrinkles that adorned his lover's skin, or the greys that streaked [name]'s hair. those small details helped remind astarion that the world was still progressing, that he wasn't stuck in one place dreading for his end like when he was with cazador. though, it did feel like he was stuck in time, but that was because he was with [name]. he always felt as if he was stuck in slow motion with him, never wanting the days, weeks, months and years to come to an end.

but, as time progressed, [name]'s health started to decline. it wasn't anytning at first, he was perfectly fine. yet, when the wrinkles started growing deeper and when he'd get ill more often astarion knew something was up. he knew that his time with [name] wasn't going to last long. it wasn't going to in the first place anyway. astarion was cursed with immortality, whilst [name] was blessed with mortality.

astarion looked over at his lover, watching as their gaze was focused on the window outside. it was getting harder for [name] to do simple tasks on his own such as walking, eating and other mundane tasks that he had brushed past during his younger years. of course, astarion helped [name] every step of the way. he wanted to spend every moment with [name], even if it could be their last one together.

[name] looked over at astarion, noticing that someone's gaze was on him. "i don't understand why you still sit and stare at me.. i'm far too old for you to still find me attractive." [name] laughed lightheartedly. he then started coughing, making astarion's eyes widen and ears perk up out of worry and fear.

once [name] stopped coughing, astarion sighed. "i still find you attractive, dear. i'll always find you as dashing as the first day i met you, even if you were a pile of mush." astarion responded, a small smile on his face even though it pained him to see what [name] was going through.

"you are too kind.." [name] laughed a little again, his breathing deep and slow as his eyes trailed back to the window. "i'm honestly.. surprised you're still here with me. i could die at any moment, yet you stay by my side even though you can live forever." [name] whispered, his voice carried with a twinge of sadness to astarion.

astarion felt himself frowning. he didn't like where this conversation was going, not one bit. he didn't like the idea of [name] leaving him so soon, he couldn't bear it. he didn't want someone to leave him, he didn't want to be alone.

sure, astarion could've always made some effort to find an immortal lover like himself. yet, he made no such efforts to do so. [name] was his, for forever. no matter if [name] was a mere mortal or not.

"my dear, i will stay by you for as long as i will roam the earth." astarion replies, his own voice coming out as a whisper. he kneels infront of [name], taking their hand in his own before he pressed his lips to the hand. "whether you are dying, or well, i will always be by your side. i could never leave you." astarion mumbled as he pressed another kiss to [name]'s hand.

[name] hummed, turning his head back so he could look down at astarion with a small smile. "thank you, my love." the man responds, voice croaky and hoarse from the old age.

"there's no point of sharing this.. immortality of mine if i couldn't share it with you." astarion whispers, trying to refrain himself from tearing up. "even if it's just for a glimpse, a brief part of my life but all of yours.. i wouldn't want it any other way." astarion admits, looking up at [name] with a smile. yet, behind the smile were broken eyes full of pain and grief for what's to come.

[name] stares down at astarion in awe from his words. he feels touched and warmed by his lover's words. "my love.. you don't know how much i appreciate your words. you don't know how much i appreciate you.. how much i appreciate you sticking by my side.." the old man speaks, voice wavering and shaking.

astarion presses his forehead against [name]'s hand, using his own hand to squeeze theirs. he tries to keep himself from letting tears spill, but it's too late. a few start to fall onto [name]'s hand, then more and more fall onto the hand the floor.

[name] takes his free hand and he strokes astarion's cheek with it, trying to get him to look up. "don't cry, my love. i'm not gone yet.." [name] adds, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he spoke to try and lighten the mood. he just didn't want to come to terms that he'd be leaving astarion so soon.

astarion looked up and he nodded, wiping his face with his sleeve. he tried to calm down before he spoke again, he didn't want to look weak now. he couldn't act weak now. he still had to be there for [name], and [name] wasn't gone yet.

"can you lead me to the bedroom, please? i think i need to go and take a nap." [name] asks, moving the topic of conversation along. he didn't want to dampen the mood any further, the air was already thick with sorrow after all.

astarion nodded and he got up, brushing the dust off of his knees. the vampire spawn then took [name]'s arms, helping him walk over to the bedroom. once they arrived into the bedroom, astarion helped his lover onto the bed. he tucked [name] in, pressing a kiss to their wrinkled forehead before he got in next to them.

"i love you, my little star. i always will, even when my candle goes out." [name] whispers, closing his eyes slowly so he could get his rest.

astarion rested his head on [name]'s chest, listening to his slow heartbeat. "i love you, forever and always my dear." astarion whispers back, a smile on his lips as he tries to not think about what the future holds for them.

a few hours pass, and astarion moves to see if [name] is awake. the man should've woken up a while ago, his naps weren't always this long. maybe [name] was just feeling extra drowsy? astarion didn't want to think of anything else.

astarion lifts his head and he sees that [name]'s chest has stopped moving up and down. surely he's just seeing things, right? astarion just stares for a few seconds and he gulps. there's no breathing.

the vampire spawn reaches out and grabs [name]'s hand. it's cold. yes, [name] had recently been growing colder and colder, not being the same firey warmth astarion was used to. but, this time the coldness was different. it was almost as if [name] was a solid block of ice. maybe it was because there was a breeze in the room? that was surely it, right?

astarion rests his head on [name]'s chest once again to confirm his suspicions. he needs to be 100% sure of something before he jumps to conclusions. and there it is.. [name] no longer has a pulse. there's no longer a heartbeat astarion can hear to remind him that his lover is alive.

"no.." astarion mumbles, lifting his head up once more to take a look at his dearest. "no, no, no.." astarion shakes his head, trying to blink away incoming tears but it's no use. his love is gone. nothing can bring him back. no tears, no cries or screams are going to bring [name] back. there was absolutely nothing. [name]'s candle had been blown out, and too early for astarion's liking. there was so much unspoken words, so many things astarion could've said and things he wanted to say. but it was too late.

astarion started bawling. he gripped tightly onto his dead lover's body, not letting it go. it was as if he was protecting it from some unknown entity, scared they were going to take away [name] from him. but, they already had.

"no.. [name] why?!" astarion sobbed into [name]'s chest. he couldn't even let out any proper tears, he was silently crying, screaming even, into [name]'s unbeating chest.

astarion's mind and heart rattle inside of him. they wrestle, trying to get astarion to listen, to do one thing that they offer. yet, astarion does not budge. he does not hear his heart or his mind. the only thing he can hear is his silent crying into [name]'s chest, the sound he desperately didn't want to hear until years into the future.

the vampire's mind screams and yells at him, telling him that astarion should join him. his mind screams that they could be together forever if astarion just joined him. but how? there was no possible way for astarion to join [name], as much as he wanted to.

yet, there was a solution. the sun.

astarion was only a spawn, he couldn't walk out in the sun without a fear of being burnt into a crisp. the only method of him joining [name] would be walking out into the sun or getting staked in the heart. astarion opted for the sun.

astarion let go of [name]'s body, running out of the house and into the sun. the golden hues kissed his pale skin, until they started to burn. piece by piece, astarion started to flow away as ash. the ash littered the sky, almost telling a story of the words astarion wanted to say, the story of his tragedy.

perhaps it was a spur of the moment thing, a stupid, silly idea that astarion shouldn't of acted upon. but it was too late now. astarion could now finally be with [name], eternally. they could finally be together until the end of time.

astarion didn't want anything else, just to be with [name] forever and always.

- author's note: hope you guys enjoyed :)

- navigation ; masterlist ; requests

168 notes · View notes

m-jelly · 2 months

Note

hi hii, can i request some more of grandpa silverfox levi

Still young

Levi x fem!reader

Modern world, romance, married couple, grandpa Levi, grandma reader, fluff, suggestive moments.

Levi loved being a father and loves the fact he is now a grandpa. Levi shows that age is just a number and how young and energetic he can still be.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

Your body ached and throbbed, but the loving lips of your husband on your back did soothe you a little bit. A little mewl escaped you as he pressed his naked body against yours. "Mm, Levi. How are you still hungry?"

He nipped your shoulder. "You've been asking that over the many years we've been married and I will keep telling you, it is because you are so sexy and beautiful."

You rolled onto your side and gazed at him. Even though years had gone by, Levi was still handsome and young-looking. There were only a few wrinkles around his eyes and he had the sexiest grey stripes in his hair. He was your silver fox.

You reached over and caressed Levi's cheek. "I love you."

Levi smiled at you. "I love you too." He propped his head up on his hand and used his other hand to trace patterns on your waist. "I could stay like this all-day long."

"We've done it before, but today we can't. Our four kids are coming over. Evan and Lilly are both bringing their kids as well."

Levi's eyes sparkled. "The grandbabies."

You hummed a laugh. "It'll be fun." You sat up and huffed as your joints cracked. "Well, I better get baking."

Levi sat up and hugged you from behind. "Do you think they will want to go camping in the back garden with me?"

"Of course." You turned and kissed Levi. "Our kids and grandkids adore you."

Levi blushed. "I love all of them."

The two of you did your morning routines, had a filling breakfast and enjoyed a cup of tea. As you baked Levi held you from behind and showered you with kisses. He helped you with a few things before you sent him on a mission to set up the camping area outside in the back garden.

After a while, you decided to check on your husband to make sure he was okay. You couldn't help but smile at what he created. Levi had made a little campground. There was a fire pit in place, lots of tents to sleep in along with a canopy to relax under. Blankets and cushions covered the floors under the canopy so everyone could relax. You adored the fairy lights for when it got dark.

You smiled as you felt your heart warm up. Your husband always went above and beyond for the people he loved. "Levi?" You squealed when he tackled you into a hug. "Hello, Levi."

Levi nipped your shoulder. "Does this bring back memories? We went camping a lot as a couple. We'd shake the tent."

You giggled. "We got up to no good." You turned in his arms and smiled at him. "We should go camping again, you and me."

Levi smiled at you. "We should. We'll set something up. I'm sure the kids won't mind."

"Perfect idea."

"Mum? Dad?"

You looked over at the sliding door on the back of your house to see your eldest, Lilly, with her husband and two kids. "Welcome! Your dad set up a little campground. This okay?"

Lilly walked over. "It's perfect! Dad, you're the best." She hugged you tightly. "Thank you for the delicious baked treats, mum."

"You're very welcome."

Lilly hugged her dad. "Mm, thanks dad for this fun setup."

Levi smiled. "You're welcome."

You crouched down and hugged your precious grandkids as Levi talked with his daughter and her husband. You made the kids giggle and gave them little snacks. You played a few little games with them and listened to their cute stories about how things have been.

You looked up at Levi. "Hey kids, who's that? That grandpa? You should get him."

Your granddaughter giggled. "Tickle attack?"

Your grandson grinned. "Lots of tickles."

You nodded. "That's right. Go get him."

He spied his little grandkids gazing at him. "There are my little ackerbabies!" He raced after them making them squeal with laughter and run away. "I'll get ya!"

Lilly looked around. "I miss this place so much."

You smiled sweetly. "We miss you too. We miss all four of you. Sending little Bjorn off to university in September was very emotional."

Lilly rubbed your back. "It was hard for all of us because it meant we were all grown up. I think I'll be like you and Dad when I send my lot off."

"We'll be here for you, we'll be super old, but we'll be here."

She laughed. "Come on, Mum, you and Dad will always be young at heart. I think you two will reach 100." She looked over at Levi play fighting with her kids. "I just know Dad will be chasing you around even then."

"Probably." You giggled. "If you need anything to drink, we have a cooler full here. I'll bring out the baked treats."

As soon as you got inside and put together a tray of food, you almost squeaked in delight at seeing your son Evan with his baby daughter in his arms. Your daughter Kuchel with her baby bump and your youngest Bjorn with a bright smile. Having all your kids home was a little overwhelming and it made you so happy.

You gave all of them a hug and held Evan's baby in your arms for a bit as you chatted to him and his sweet wife. You showered your daughter Kuchel with compliments at how she was glowing and her bump looked cute. You then gave Bjorn a big hug as you listened to all their stories.

You led all of them outside so they could see their eldest sister. They all gathered together and chatted, but then they saw Levi. Levi rushed over to his kids and gave them all hugs before he took Evan's baby into his arms. You could tell by the look in Levi's eyes he was becoming broody.

You took a seat with a drink in your hand and watched Levi running around with his kids and his grandkids. You smiled at your daughter Kuchel as she opted to sit next to you. Kuchel was always the quiet one and just enjoyed being next to Levi and you, as well as playing video games and exchanging stories.

Kuchel hugged your side and hummed. "It's great to be back."

"You're welcome here anytime you want."

"I know. Thank you."

You wrapped your arms around her and hugged her. "You're Dad is like a kid again."

You both watched as Levi lifted his granddaughter into the air and spun around with her. He put her down and picked up his grandson and threw him up and down. Next, he sprinted around with them as they threw balls at him, but Levi dodged them all making the kids laugh.

In the end, Levi fell to the floor and let the kids jump on him. The sweet laugh that came from Levi made everyone smile. Before you, Levi was a very lonely and grumpy person. After you, he smiled and laughed a lot more. Levi had always said that you taught him what it means to live. He counted his blessings every single day.

He lay back on the floor and talked to his kids and the grandkids about all the stars in the sky, along with the stories linked to them. He shifted off the floor as his kids looked after their own kids. He walked over to you and Kuchel. He gave his daughter a hug and some words of love and encouragement.

You smiled as Kuchel kissed Levi's cheek and hurried over to her brothers and sister. "You're a wonderful father and grandfather."

Levi sat next to you and hugged you tightly. "You're an incredible mother and grandmother. I love you."

"I love you too."

167 notes · View notes

iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 6 months

Text

The Arcana HCs: How M6 act when they're sleep deprived

Julian

What do you mean? This is his permanent state of functioning, MC, he wouldn't know who he was if he wasn't exhausted

Now give him back his coffee. He wasn't done with that

Julian's version of properly sleep deprived is akin to a normal person's version of "so close to dead they've never felt more alive"

You'll only know he's at the true edge of his exhaustion when his eyebrows reach a new height of bushiness and his pupils dilate to two tiny pinpricks of black in a sea of shaky grey

His normal eye will be so bloodshot that you'll have a hard time telling which one needs an eyepatch over it

Be prepared for the theatre kid plague doctor version of zoomies

Were you hoping to read your book quietly? Not anymore!! Allow him to spice up your story by assigning different voices to your beloved characters and loudly reading them from atop the table

Better yet, watch him vault from the table to the windowsill as he demonstrates the dashing hero's getaway!

The plot takes a turn as the book goes flying into the sink and he continues undaunted, improvising a three person fight scene with the lid off your soup pot and the fire poker

This ends when you either guilt him into bed or he crashes mid-sentence

Asra

To say that they don't take well to being sleep-deprived is an understatement. They exist in a constant state of "just rolled out of bed and will happily roll back in." Life revolves around sleeping in

He can lose an hour or two of sleep here and there. It's not even super unusual for him to accidentally stay up into the wee hours of the morning because he got stuck in a curiosity spiral

But they usually make up for it with cat naps through the next day. When that proves impossible, though -

There's no nice way to put it. He's grumpy. Irritable. His tendency to make sarcastic, cutting comments about things he doesn't like increases tenfold

Their hair gets frizzy, the annoyed wrinkles around their eyes could rival an elephant's, and their usual easygoing expression is replaced with a scowl so deeply disgusted by existence that it rivals Muriel's

He doesn't yell or snap - no, he just stumbles through the shop with his hair in his eyes and a random object in his hand (is that a half finished rendering of the Palace carved on a banana peel?)

Be prepared for them to mumble out all kinds of hilarious swear combinations as they give you their real opinion on yesterday's finnicky shop patron. They'll read her outfit to filth

Nadia

She just gets stressed and depressed

And depending on how bad the deprivation is, slightly panicked

First she gets stuck asleep for literal years. Then after waking up she can't sleep enough, thanks to headaches and nightmares. She's just so done with the discomfort of it all

She also associates you with being able to sleep in a way that is safe and restful, so you're about to become a personal stuffie

If you complain, she'll immediately apologize and leave you to go about your day. Otherwise she doesn't realize what she's doing

You're coming with her. Everywhere

She's either got your arm looped through hers, her hand holding yours, or (depending on your height) your shoulders tucked firmly into her side while she runs her fingers through your hair

She will instinctively tighten her grip on you if you squirm

If she gets too lost in thought while she tries to get her tasks out of the way, she will bodily pick you up and carry you from room to room like an animate teddy bear. You are her comfort item now

Forgets to verbalize her thoughts. The plan is so clear inside her head, no need to pause to enact it

Which is how you ended up plopped on a horse with 0 explanation

Muriel

Oh dear

His anxiety skyrockets. Sleep is his coping mechanism for an ugly world. Sleep is an escape. And now sleep is ... unavailable???

His personality slowly shifts. Is he still grumpy? Yes, but faster now. Without access to the thing that helps him feel safe, he's full of anxious energy to the point of becoming frantic

Starts obsessively doing everything he can so that sleep is possible again. Is there a lot to get done? move out of the way.

Is it insomnia? He's trying everything from filling the hut with myrrh to making an uncharacteristic march into town so he can raid the shop for remedies while Asra looks on, jaw on the floor

He'll do anything, just let him sleep

Absolutely refuses to have anything to do with alcohol to make him drowsy, though. The same goes for any type of strong sleeping enchantments, medicines, or potions

He wants to maintain control over his body

It was a strange experience to come back after a day out to find the entire hut rearranged, with a borderline manic Muriel pacing the floor and muttering to himself about "something soothing"

Apparently that was you, by the way, you were all he needed. He took one look at you, heaved a sigh of relief, and then dozed off to the sound of you puttering around

Portia

For someone who's usually so cheery and on top of things, she gets really mellow and spacey - almost childlike

You will have to repeat yourself up to five times before she's able to process your question and tell you that she moved your shoes to the closet because she needed to sweep earlier

Slow frog blinks, first one eye, and then the other

Keeps putting stuff down where it's not supposed to go and then completely forgetting about them

Why is there a wet bar of soap on her pillow. Why is there a teacup half-buried in the garden. Why is Pepi covered in flour

If the reason for her sleep deprivation is overwork, there's no chance of her getting anything more done until she's had a full eight hours of rest. She physically cannot focus enough

If the reason is just insomnia, she just gets sad. One glance at Pepi curled up into a cute little roll and snoozing in a sunbeam will lead to silent tears pouring down her cheeks and quiet sniffles

Gets so so sweet - she already is, of course, but to a whole new degree. If you bring her a cup of soothing herbal tea, she'll look at you like you're a fairy and whisper "thank you" while she cradles it

A good backrub is usually all she needs to conk out

Lucio

He values his beauty sleep and he is not happy when he doesn't get it. Do you know what it takes to maintain skin like his??

Loud and cranky but refuses to acknowledge why

He wouldn't feel this lousy just from not getting enough sleep! What are you talking about? This is clearly some kind of foul magic or sickness at work - check his temperature! Is that a fever??

He doesn't need sleep, he needs answers. Who's fault is this? Who does he need to beat up? Leave him alone!

Wait no no no he didn't mean that, don't leave him alone, MC please, he loves you, don't go (note: you haven't moved)

He knows what he needs to do. He needs to hunt down whoever or whatever is causing this misery and force them to put an end to it

It must be some kind of curse. Loud noises hurt his ears, the sun is too bright, his eyes are tired and itchy, his brain is full of fog, his whole body feels slow and heavy, this isn't right!

Maybe this is actually his cue to throw a party - no? Yeah okay, he wasn't really feeling up for one anyways

Which is clearly another symptom of the curse! MC, help him!

You'll have to change tactics and tell him that you'll only be able to help him kill the curse if he falls asleep so you can see his dreams

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

387 notes · View notes