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#some of these facts are maybe a little correct
bonny-kookoo · 1 day
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Jungkook
Princess | Limits [Final]
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There's only so much he can take.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, misunderstanding, smut, (slightly) mean Dom kook, a slap to the thigh, uh, knot is mentioned, it's nasty, unprotected but MC is mentioned to be on birth control, he holds her by the throat? Idk he also has his fingers in her mouth-
Length: 5k Words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: This will act as a final chapter. The main story is therefore wrapped up- but as always, if you want drabbles, you can still request them.
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Jungkook has never understood the phrase of your ‘heart stopping’- because how could it ever? You’d be dead in that case. But right in this moment, he finally gains the knowledge by experiencing it first hand- eyes wide open and body frozen.
Why are you in his bed? Barely dressed, snuggled up to him who’s only in his underwear?
He thinks through the whole process of yesterday to make sense of this. Did you both get potentially drunk last night? No, not at all. You and him had simply packed your things to drive you to your parents hours away, after having contacted them and told them about everything. He remembers driving you there himself, unloading your bags, leaving you there after waving and driving off. And added to that, that was not last night. It was almost an entire week ago.
He hasn’t seen you in days. So what are you doing here?
It’s not a dream either, clock on his nightstand ticking away, world outside going about its day as the window isn’t all closed to let some fresh air in at night. And yet, you’re there- bare legs entangled with his, arms holding onto his.
He doesn’t really feel alarmed by the fact that you somehow entered his apartment- you know where he lives after all, and you know the passcode to his door, so it’s not really surprising at all. But what he is questioning is why you’re here- and why you’re in his bed, most of all. Has he forgotten some conversation you might’ve had? Or has something happened to make you so upset that you were craving the comfort of him at any cost?
Now he’s worried.
Shaking you a little to wake you up seems to not be very effective- because you just frown, slap his hand away and bury your face right back into his shoulder as if he’s nothing but an annoying fly. “I know you’re awake.” Jungkook tells you, and at that you actually open one of your eyes, looking up at him with your tail wagging beneath the covers. “What’re you doing here?” He asks, and you frown again turning onto your back to look up at him who’s sat up by now.
“Why do you sound so upset about that?” You complain with almost a pout in your tone, arms crossed. “I thought couples love reuniting.” You say, and he looks at you, confused.
“Couples?” He questions, and you nod, now visibly unsure as well.
“Well, yeah?” You say, attitude fading and being replaced by uncertainty. “I mean.. we haven’t said the L-word yet, but like.. I thought..” you start, scanning his face for any sign that he realizes what you believed you two were. “..since you uh.. called me baby in the car..” you drift off, and still- there’s no sign of anything on Jungkook’s face as he thinks, and digs around in his memories for the correct moment he might’ve said that. He did, maybe. But he doesn’t remember.
“did I?” He asks, and regrets it the moment he watches the shame visibly wash over you- from the way your ears pin back to the slight change in your gaze, he knows he fucked up by saying it loud- and he’s a little too late as you roll out the bed and run for the bathroom after picking something up from the floor, hiding away now. “hey- wait.” He asks, getting up to walk towards the bathroom floor, knocking on it just to not get an answer. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding-“ He starts, trying hard to calm you down- but it’s clearly not working as the door opens, and you slip right past him to run towards the door where your shoes are. “Hey no- stay, let’s talk-“
“Nuh-uh, nop, this is so embarrassing-“ You rant, visibly frustrated over the shoes not closing fast enough as your hands are too shaky to really tie them. So you just make a simple knot and stuff the laces into the corners, before a tattooed hand snatches your other shoe from you. “give that back!” You bark, not looking at him however as you reach for the shoe he’s holding too high for you. “stop-“
“stop, exactly. Don’t run off now, I’m sorry if I said something that made you think we were more than we are.” He explains, and you visibly deflate at that, ears down low just like your tail. “let me get dressed, and we can talk, okay?” He asks again, and you just shrug.
He sighs as he puts down the shoe and leaves to tug a shirt and pants onto himself- before he realizes his mistake too late-
Door already slamming shut, your jacket the only thing you left at his place.
Fuck.
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He’s been knocking since forever it feels like- but even at his third visit today, you refuse to open the door.
You still got a week left in your apartment- but he knows from first hand experience that you got almost no furniture at all in there anymore, so this can’t be an option for you to sleep at. He doesn’t want you to be upset at him- and in hindsight, he really could’ve worded things a bit better, but he’s still new to this as much as you are. “please let me in.” He requests once more as he’s done so often today, sighing. “I missed you too, you know?” He tries this time around, and to be honest, that’s not even a lie.
Its odd how at first glance, he never thought he’d ever get along with you. But having you gone for almost an entire week, he really felt the way you’d somehow snuck into his heart- every task back to being mundane without you causing a little chaos in his daily life here and there.
“That’s a lie.” You say, door open just a crack to glare at him through.
“Its not.” He denies. “I just think we never actually talked about what we want to be- so I was surprised to just.. have you turn up out of nowhere in my bed.” He chuckles a little, and you just look down to the floor in shame.
“M’ sorry.” You apologize. “won’t happen again.”
“What if I want it to happen again?”
Your gaze snaps up at him at that, confused. “I was just a bit caught off guard, and honestly worried. Did something happen at your parent’s?” He wonders, and you sigh, opening the door to let him into the almost entirely unfurnished apartment- a pile of clothes and a blanket being the last items that were probably used as a makeshift resting spot for you today laying in the corner of the main living room. You sit down there, before letting yourself fall to the side as if exhausted, before you shrug, Jungkook sitting on the floor across from you. “it was.. I don’t know.” You admit. “I love them. And I was really super happy to see them again, and spend time there..” you explain, before you pull the blanket between your fingers to have something to hold onto while you stare into nothingness. “But it was.. really a lot.. I don’t know how to explain.”
“I guess that’s normal. You know, being overwhelmed with it.” Jungkook sympathizes. “I’m exhausted too after spending a day or two with my entire family-pack. Nothing to worry about.” He explains, and you just nod, still avoiding eye contact. “I think what’s important now then, is what we are to one another. You can’t just break into my apartment and sneak into my bed without formally asking me out, you know?” He jokes, but your glare is filled with embarrassment.
“Now I don’t want to anymore.” You huff, before you turn around- and at that, Jungkook feels an odd rush underneath his skull, fueled by your subtle and underlying confession in your words.
“You love me though, don’t you?” He asks, leaning in closer as he sits near you now, a hand on your shoulder. “all you need to do is say it.” He chuckles, as you curl up more into yourself as if that would hide you.
“And then what?” You huff. “You’ll-“
“I’ll say it back.” He cuts you off. “or I’ll say it first, it’s no issue. At this point it’s pretty obvious that I’m starting to fall in love with you.” He easily spills, and you freeze before you slowly unravel, turning to look at him over your shoulder with a face full of wonder.
“You are?” You ask hesitantly, and he smiles, before he nods.
“I am.” He responds, confirms his words and you sit up at that, facing him now. “are you?” He wonders, and you nod.
“I am.” You answer, and he laughs.
“See? Nothing to be scared of. Now come on, I’m not letting you sleep here.” He says, standing up with you to pick up your stuff-
Unaware of the absolute Rollercoaster he just signed himself up for.
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Jungkook did not know what he got into when basically confessing his growing feelings.
His mundane life is pretty much over at this point, with you always around and currently basically having moved in until you can figure out if this works or not. After all, you’re not used to living with someone else- and it’s clear that no matter what, you’re the opposite of an angel, still trying your tricks on him to make him dance around like you want him to.
But Jungkook isn’t this easy to control. And in a way, it’s a little fun to see how much you can get away with.
“Jesus christ, put some clothes on.!” Jungkook curses as be spots you laying on your stomach on his couch, in nothing but a simple top and underwear, tail wagging. The wolf hybrid has to turn away, distract himself with the task of turning the volume of the TV lower, while you just don’t understand what his fussing is all about, game on your little console in your hands on pause.
“Why?” You ask because of that, not sure why he’s being so overly dramatic in your opinion. It’s just your legs, maybe your butt. So?
“because- just put at least some pants on.”, he groans, and you roll your eyes, before you continue your game instead.
You’re not listening. And he’s not sure if it’s your character- or if you think his decreasing patience is funny to watch.
“Do I have to turn the wifi off to get your full attention?” jungkook asks a little irritated, and you shrug.
“Don’t care.” You respond, eyes on the little screen between your hands. “the game doesn’t need internet.”
Suddenly however, the console is taken out of your hands, as he saves your current progress, and puts it into the charging station near the TV. “Hey!” You complain, getting up now to rush towards him- and as he makes sure you can’t get to your precious game again, he notices that God fucking damn it, you’re not wearing a bra beneath this very flimsy shirt.
You’re really testing him.
“Put pants on.” He says, and you have the audacity to laugh.
“Nah.” You deny, stretching before you step away from him, walking towards the bedroom. “I’ll just take a na-“ you don’t get to say much else, as he suddenly tugs on your tail with just enough force to make it count- but nowhere near enough to hurt. “Hey!” You turn around instantly, just to be basically cornered by the wolf hybrid, who’s backing you into a wall in the living room.
“You’ve got a real smart mouth there.” He simply says, but it sounds like a threat almost-, a very specific kind of threat that makes your skin shiver. “But you tend to forget when to shut it, clearly.” He scoffs, as your back hits the wall, making you swallow your own saliva nervously.
But he can sense, smell, that this is affecting you not in the direction of fear- but something else entirely.
“You’re so lucky, you know?” He asks, somewhat- and you look at him with question. “I’m not usually patient like that.”
“What would you have done?” You ask, unable to really keep it in as you know that if you hesitate for just a second, you’ll never be able to say this out loud, ask for such things. You want them, but you’re also nervous, considering you’ve never actually gotten this far with anyone before. “Put me in timeout?” You almost challenge, tail beginning to sway a little with newfound confidence, when he just shrugs it off, and shakes his head.
“No.” He denies. “Brats like you need something that.. Lasts longer.” He words out, and at that, scenes manifest inside your head that make you visibly shy.
You’re not sure if he realized it yet, but a lot of the things you do, you do on full purpose. You like this game of push and pull, you think its exciting and fun- so you hope that with words like that, he means them as such, because that would mean that he’s both aware of the little game you’re playing, and also a willing participant in it.
You don’t want him to just feel like you’re made of porcelain, possibly breaking at the slightest touch.
“Such as?” You ask, and he leans in closer at that, almost unbearably so.
“fuck around and find out, Princess.”
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Turns out you can be sickeningly sweet almost when you really want to- currently happily laying on his stomach after helping him cook and wash the dishes after, awfully nice today and in a good mood.
It makes him wonder. Are you up to something? Or are you simply not who he thought you were? It would be just a slight bit disappointing, if he was to be honest- considering he’d actually grown quite fond of the idea of you with your ass spanked bright red, Jungkook basically having to work for your submission. But maybe you’re just all bark and no bite- just yapping around, nothing more than that.
Even that would be fine at this point, as long as he’s got you.
It’s when the male lead kisses the female love interest in the admittedly boring drama you both watch on TV, than he notices you staring at the scene. He’s notice too that at this point in time, one might think you would’ve kissed by now- but that’s not the case, neither of you seemingly brave enough to make that step towards the other. But it’s clear from the way you look at the scene in front of you with a shy sense of longing, that you want it- he just needs to find the perfect moment for it.
After all, he doesn’t just want to be any partner for you. He wants to be the one and only.
“I’m tired.” You yawn and stretch, arms above your head before you look at him. “can I get a goodnight-kiss?” You boldly ask, and Jungkook laughs, before he moves to basically lean over you entirely, hands pressing into the cushioning of the couch below you.
And then he finally leans in to peck your lips- or at least that was his intention. You chase after his lips and even move your hands to pull him back, making him act on instinct as he pushes them back, pins them down with his fingers around your wrists. But he has to admit, either the lip balm you’re using is sweet as honey, or he’s surely found the perfect person to kiss in you-
Because he doesn’t want to stop either.
“You said you’re tired.” He hums in when you break apart for just a second, and you shake your head.
“not anymore.” You deny his claims, making him chuckle.
“Not anymore?” He repeats, teasingly escaping your advances. You shake your head, as your legs move to rest around his waist, signals sent pretty clear to him as he watches you try and seduce him. “You’re right.. You’re clearly not yet tired.” He mumbles, as he leans down to kiss you again, letting himself be swept away by the moment, as you both just enjoy each other’s presence.
“Jungkook..” you whine impatiently, hips squirming around in search of any form of friction, while he just laughs under his breath.
“What do you want?” He asks. “this is our first time, after all. I don’t know what you like- or what you can handle.” He teases- though it’s clear that there’s an underlying truth to his words. This is indeed clearly going in a very obvious direction, and you feel warm inside knowing that he actually cares this much about your experience during this.
“I don’t know..” you admit. “I just.. always do it myself, so I don’t know.” You tell him, and he nods, accepting that as his kisses move to your neck, where he makes sure to leave his marks.
Because he wants you to be his, and his alone.
“how far do you want to go?” He asks, pausing his advances for a moment to look at you.
“All the way.” You tell him, and he nods.
“You sure?” He questions, and again, you nod- this time visibly serious.
“There’s no one I’d rather be with like that than you.” You say, and he soaks those words up like a sponge, before he leans back down to kiss you- softer now, more gentle, as if he’s savoring you and your open appreciation for him in this moment.
And he does. He really does.
And you know, through the softness of his touch and the slow and gentle manner in which he undresses you, that tonight, he’s going easy on you.
Tonight, he’s just going to show you real love.
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Something clicked into place last night.
As if he’s finally committed himself to you, he’s relaxed, comfortable and most of all; confident. And you’re strangely excited about this new side of him, because it’s unbelievably entertaining to play around with him now that he’s not holding himself back any longer.
Youre currently all laughing, some friend’s of Jungkook’s having spotted him at the grocery store with you, eager to get to know the girl who made him catch feelings. And you’re having a lot of fun hearing some embarrassing facts about your now boyfriend- who’s also laughing along, despite being the butt of the joke. Even when you make jokes about him too he doesn’t seem bothered-
Until a hand finds the back of your neck, fingers pressing down a little to make sure you know he’s got a good grip on you. And like a cat grabbed by its weak spot, you freeze, one look at him making you almost cower in public as his dark eyes gaze down at you. “yeah- but I think we’ll better head home now.” Jungkook decides to his friends, casually smiling while he says goodbye to his friends. And even when his hand leaves you, you’re strangely affected- waiting for something to happen, as he calmly brings the groceries to the car.
You must’ve gotten away this time, since he seems pretty relaxed on the way back home. Good thing you were in public.
However, once back inside your now shared four walls, things take a turn again when, instead of helping him unpack the groceries, you lounge on his sofa- TV instantly turned on as you watch, and Jungkook makes sure to put everything where it belongs by himself.
Your punishment follows late- but you know when it’s time.
The TV is wordlessly turned off, but you stop mid-breath trying to complain about it, because the smile he sends you is none of pure kindness. He looks almost like a villain ready to move on with his sinister plans, as he approaches you. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” He asks, and when you don’t reply, he clarifies further. “you love getting on my nerves.” He states, and you have the audacity to shrug.
“What’re you gonna do about it?”
That was definitely your last mistake made- challenging him, well aware of how he will potentially punish you.
He’s quick to grab at your hips, no matter how fast you’d wanted to dash off. His grip is tight and secure as he carries you unto the bedroom, where he closes the door with his foot, putting you down on the big mattress. And there you sit- waiting, not sure what his silence means.
“Early bedtime, huh?” You scoff, trying to appear unimpressed.
“Its what you make of it.” He however answers. “this is your last chance to get on my good side, Princess.”
“or what?” You ask with an attitude, still not believing in hit bite at all.
Jungkook sits down at that, back against the door, eyes reflecting a little in the darkness of the bedroom. He’s a wolf, deep down, even if he’s mixed- he’s got time, and patience, and he knows it. He’s well aware that after yesterday’s endeavors, you’ve been trying to ‘seduce’ him all day long- wanting more, wanting it again, because as you’d told him last night, you ‘can’t do it the same he does’. It’s normal, as a hybrid-
And as someone like you in particular, who craves everything pleasurable in life.
You’re still sitting there, waiting, adjusting your position a bit, squirming under his watchful eyes. You’re not sure what he’s aiming at here, but it makes you a little uncomfortable-
Mostly because you can feel the way your underwear is soaking up your arousal over this entire situation.
“Go to sleep, baby.” He tells you with fake gentleness in his voice. “it’s late, isn’t it?”
“I don’t want to sleep.” You respond, and he chuckles.
“I know.” He tells you.
“Jungkook..” you whine, hoping this will be enough to break him. “I’m sorry..” you admit, ears drooping low, as you look at your lap in shame.
But he’s not fooled.
“try again, princess.” He simply says. “I know you’re not sorry.”
Fuck. What else could you do to get him to crack?
Manipulating him into doing what you wanted him to has worked in the past, so it shouldn’t be this hard. And he’s already seen you naked yesterday, so you don’t have to have shame about what you do next- moving your legs to give him a bit of a teaser to your soiled underwear beneath your skirt, feet digging into the bed below as you try and get under his skin this way.
“…can you help me?” You wonder, noticing how his eyes were captured by the sight for just a second.
“I can.” He nods, getting up to walk over to you- and your tail wags, triumph yours to claim. It’s still so easy to make him dance around like a puppet on strings, because down the line, he’s just another guy who’s quickly caught up in his own lust-
His face is inches from yours, eyes piercing into yours as he still got that wolfish smirk on his lips.
“But I don’t want to.”
Wait- that’s not part of the script.
“do it yourself, puppy.” He laughs, opening the bedroom door. “You know how to-“
“No!” You call out, making him turn his head over his shoulder to look at you. “I want you!” You argue, making him laugh.
“too bad.” He denies, and at that you get up, one leg out of the bed already. “get back on the bed.” He demands, and you huff.
“so you really putting me in timeout?” You scoff, stepping out with the other leg as well.
“You want to act like a brat so I’ll treat you as such.” He explains. “get back on the bed until I’m done cooking.”
“No.” You deny, walking closer.
He says your name, low and clearly in a warning, but you don’t care.
It’s then that your world turns upside down for a second, before you’re thrown back onto the bouncing mattress. You can’t help the sound that escapes your lips at his display of strength over you, a hand still on your arm to push you down. “does pissing me off make you that horny?” He asks, almost in a demeaning tone. “gushing into your panties just because you’re getting on my nerves, huh?” He continues, and your tail still wags.
“Its funny.” You admit, giggling, when a hand slaps your inner thigh, skirt having risen up to cover basically nothing anymore. “ah-!” You call out in surprise, making him laugh.
“it is.” He agrees. “it’s funny how you think you can play me.”
The next second, he’s tugging your underwear off of you, strings of sticky arousal still trying to hold onto the soiled fabric for a good stretch before the piece of clothing is thrown somewhere. “gotta get you off to make you listen?” He asks, agitated, hand between your legs a complete contrast to the gentle way he’s helped you reach highest pleasure last night. “gotta fuck you stupid so you’re finally a good girl for once?” He questions, and you just nod, frantically, overwhelmed by the way he pushes two of his fingers in already, thumb rolling over your most sensitive spot.
“Please-“ you start, but he only laughs down at you.
“Please? That’s a new sound.” He mocks you. His ruthless acts down settle down at all however- instead, he takes his hand away from you, and wipes it on his pants. You’re left alone, watching him, unsure what’s happening. “You ready to listen?” He asks. What an asshole. He knows exactly that in your state you’d accept anything-
“Why did you stop?” You whine however, and your downfall has been sealed.
Only moments later, as you try and escape, he’s on top of you, using his entire body to cage you in, hand around your throat- though he’s gentle enough to not hurt you at all. The hold he has still arches your back, pushes your behind right into him. And considering the fact that you’re on birth control, he doesn’t need to search for any other contraceptive right now, able to just pull himself out of his cotton pants, not needing much to get himself ready.
You whine in complaint when he pushes in. He knows it’s a bluff.
“oh shut up.” He growls into the back of your neck. “You can take it.” He states, well aware that you can. And it seems like finally, you’re quiet and compliant- if only after his fingers press down on your tongue, occupying your mouth with something other than whining. “so this is what it needs to shut you up?” He mocks you. “my cock inside, and my fingers in your mouth?” He purrs against your neck, and you just whimper pathetically.
His pace is steady, but he doesn’t even need to move anymore he notices- you’re for once doing all the work for him, bouncing on his lap like you’ve done this a million times already.
Your stamina does however not match up with his, as your thighs quiver, orgasm approaching you and causing you to lose tempo. Something he catches up on- taking over as he rolls his hips into you with dancer’s precision, while you emit sounds of pleasure the second his digits leave your mouth. You fall forward once he lets go of you entirely, spent.
“I’m not done with you yet.” He however days, as he manhandles you onto your back beneath him, hands tugging on your legs to move them exactly where he wants them. “wants to be fucked stupid but can’t even keep up with me.” He teases, shaking his head as he pushes his length through your thighs, remnants of your own arousal making the movement easy and slick. Your hands reach out sleepily, fingers touching the very tip every time it appears between your legs, and you giggle, visibly out of your mind.
But he notices something else too.
You look entirely relaxed, not even a glimmer of any of your usual insecurities present. You’re just existing in the moment, enjoying this, enjoying what he offers you, and nothing else.
Your head must really just be TV static.
You open your legs again, whining once more as he watches you reach for his hips- one orgasm not enough still, or maybe you just want to please him the best you can. He’s going easy on you this time, he decides, complying with your wordless demand to get back inside you, a wish he happily grants.
You don’t hold back, only shutting up when he leans down to kiss you, needy and chaotic, tongue and bitten lips. But once his hand is between you both, pushing you over the edge alongside him, you squirm once more- his release spilling inside of you, something swelling that you didn’t feel yesterday.
It’s him. He’s locking himself inside you to make sure you don’t spill any of it.
Which isn’t all that easy, since he appears to be a but of an overachiever- some of it already escaping you the second he softens up, cunt pushing out the translucent white as he pulls out of you.
You’re a mess.
Clothes somewhat still on, skin sweaty, opening between hour legs still gaping, clenching around nothing as your body calms down.
But, to be fair-
You also, finally, shut your mouth.
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“You can be so gentle!” You complain as he helps you put lotion on your skin after your shower, already back to your old self not even a couple of hours after.
“I can.” He laughs.
“But something tells me that you like it rough.”
Oh-
How right he is.
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Hate at first sight - Alhaitham Requested by @isekyaaa
Contains suggestive lines for the sake of a joke
“Tighnari, You know anyone who could translate this?” She brought over the book to him. It was an old book she found while cleaning up her grandpa’s house. A book in a foreign language that her grandpa had forgotten over the years leaving its contents unknown to his family. “It’s supposed to be an heirloom.”
Tighnari looked over the book she had handed to him. A language that was unrecognizable to him but recognizable in that he had seen one of his friends reading a book in what looked to be a similar language. “I know a guy. If you're free tonight you might have a chance to get it translated or at least be pointed in the right direction.”
“Why tonight?"
“Cyno made a new deck again. Your translator should be there.”
“I forgot you have game nights with the General Mahamatra. I shouldn't take up too much of your time. Well as long as this translater of yours is good at their job.”
“He is. Just know he can be a little blunt. Though little may be an understatement. And with Kaveh there, don't be surprised if you see some sort of argument.”
“You're friends must be a lively bunch. Wait Kaveh is the one with blonde hair right? He was the one who was here two weeks ago?” She asked making sure her memory was correct.
“He was. Why?”
“He gave me advice on what rug I should pick. He didn't even see where it would go and gave me perfect advice. I really would like to thank him. My living room actually feels like a separate room even though it's an open floor plan.”
“I'm sure he'll appreciate it.”
-
It was nice to say hello to Cyno even though she didn’t know that super well. Most of her knowledge came from Tighnari mentioning him. But that and the fact she didn’t talk to him much meant that she really didn’t know him. It was entertaining to hear a few of his jokes though. The juxtaposition of the wordplay with how stoic his delivery was may have been the only reason she enjoyed them though.
While Kaveh acted as if he had known her for their entire lives. He was warm and welcoming. But also the moment she thanked him it was like he became a second sun in the room. He was extremely giving, offering to give her home interior design advice any time. It was evident in his face and how he spoke how much he appreciated the thanks even if it was just over what shape of rug to get.
It was enjoyable to be around all three of them. Though as nice as their company was it wasn't the reason she Had followed Tighnari along to his game night With his friends at the tavern. She still had a book in her bag that needed to be translated and there was no translator in sight.
“Tighinari, are you sure your translator is supposed to be here?”
“I’m sure he’ll show.”
“Translator?” Kaveh asked before his smile evaporated away. “You’re here for Al Haitham?”
“That’s a first,” Cyno commented.
“Well, now my translator has a name. But yes.” She pulled the book out of her bag. “My grandpa said it’s a family heirloom but no one in my family can even read it. Tighnari said that he’d be able to translate it for me.”
“At a horrible cost though. You couldn't have just sent her in the direction of the Akademiya?” Kaveh asked, being quite dramatic about the situation.
“I'd rather have someone that Tighnari trusts than some I don't know who. The book is an heirloom after all.”
“It will be fine,” Tighnari reassured, he pointed at the door. “Even then, he’s here.”
Al Haitham made his way over to their table. He sat down at the table already looking annoyed at who knows what.
Tighnari was kinda enough to briefly explain the situation to him along with a basic introduction. Even though Al Haitham had agreed to translate he looked as if Y/N's simple request was asking too much. Maybe a frown was just permanently etched into his face.
Al Haitham held the book looking over the cover. “To count the ways.” He translated the cover before flipping through the pages. His eyes widen skimming through the contents. He looked over at Y/N who looked brimming with excitement to learn what was in the book. “This is just erotica.”
Cyno slowly placed the cards in his hands on the table now fully paying attention to what was unfolding in front of him. Kaveh choked on his wine only for Tighnari to pat his back as he coughed. 
Y/N’s face dropped. “It's a heirloom. It’s been in my family longer than my grandpa has been alive. It can’t be. You must be mistranslating it.” She reasoned.
“Your heirloom is in an old form of a Fontaine language. A language I’ve been reading since I was 17. Do you want me to translate it aloud for you?” His words were an insult and a challenge to her.
“If you know it so well then could you give me a real translation.”
Al Haitham rolled his eyes opening the book back up. “Her eyes widen at the sight of his toned chest. In a frantic haze of want she quickly moved to help remove his belt excited to see the sight of his-”
Y/N snatched the book from his hands. Her face was warm with embarrassment. “It was nice talking with you three but I have to go.” She politely excused herself from others before turning to face Al Haitham. “You could drown in a ditch for all I care.”
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writeforfandoms · 10 hours
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Island 5
Find the series masterlist
Though one problem has been taken care of, there are always more. Nothing is ever easy here.
Warnings: Violence, blood, killing a dino, swearing, emotions, poor survivor is Going Through It.
Word count: 2.1k
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You woke to bright light in your eyes, blinking slowly and rolling onto your side. You groaned softly at the ache in your thighs and lower back especially, although most of you was sore. 
Why…?
You scrambled upright as the memory of the day before slammed into you, looking around quickly. You were inside, in the base. Bright light, middle of the day, maybe later. 
Soap rested feet away from you, breathing steady and even, Ghost still sitting vigil next to him. 
“He's fine,” Ghost told you, meeting your eyes briefly before looking back down at Soap. 
“Oh.” You sagged, very nearly sliding right back down to the floor. But you caught yourself on your hands. “The other two?”
“Outside,” Ghost grunted, this time not even looking at you. 
You nodded slowly and took a few moments to breathe. You'd made it. You hadn't been too late. Soap would be okay. 
The utter relief made you buoyant. 
You finally got to your feet, swaying for a moment before you stabilized. Some water helped, and you took a moment to roll some of the tension out of your shoulders before walking outside. 
The sun nearly blinded you for a moment, and you squinted against the glare. It only took a moment to adjust, and you walked slowly towards Gaz and Price. Gaz somehow had your hyaenadon sitting on his foot. 
“You're awake,” Price said as he spotted you, giving you a nod. “Was debating waking you.” 
“Thanks for letting me sleep, I needed it.” You rolled your head from side to side. “How's Ripper?”
“Won't let anyone touch him,” Gaz said, shooting you a quick grin, his hand landing on your shoulder. “Good to see you up. Gave us a scare, the way you dropped.” 
“Oh I'm fine,” you murmured, waving his concern away, though you were careful not to dislodge his hand from your shoulder. “Just needed a bit of sleep. Did I miss anything?” 
“Soap is stable,” Price told you, brusque and matter of fact. “The rest of us are fine. All you missed was the raptor trying to take off some of Gaz's fingers.” 
You laughed quietly. “Yeah, he's a bit of a monster. Has he eaten?” 
“Plenty,” Gaz agreed, smiling at you. “Everyone is fine, promise.”
“We saw two drops come down earlier,” Price said, watching you. 
“Two?” Your eyebrows raised. Two in this area was pretty good, so long as they were reachable. “What colors?”
“Green and yellow.”
Your eyes blew wide. “A yellow drop?” You couldn't keep the excitement out of your voice if you tried. Yellow drops were more rare, and more valuable. Much more valuable. 
“Good stuff in those?” Price was watching you, arms loosely folded across his chest. 
“Usually,” you murmured. “Which direction did you see it?”
Gaz used the hand on your shoulder to turn you the correct direction. “Off that way, not too far.” 
You chewed on your lower lip, considering. The yellow drop looked like it had probably landed a little ways away, near the base of the mountain, if you had to guess. The woods there weren't thick, if you recalled correctly. Better visibility meant it would be easier to spot predators. 
But it was dangerous, regardless of all that. And you were reluctant to leave Soap just yet. 
“It'll still be there tomorrow,” you hedged, frowning in the direction of the drop. “We could wait.” 
“We could use the supplies. Especially if it has something to help Soap.” Price stepped up next to you and Gaz, glancing at you even as he rocked on his feet. 
“It can wait,” you repeated. “I doubt anyone else is going to go after it.” 
“We're going.” Price's voice shifted, changed. A command instead of a suggestion. “Ghost will stay here, keep an eye on Soap.” 
You swallowed, looking at him. You could try to argue with him, but you doubted you'd get anywhere this time. He looked quite stubborn about this, shoulders set and chin up. And you already knew who Gaz would support. 
It wasn't you. 
So you conceded, as gracefully as you could manage. “We're taking Ripper with us, and Watermelon. Just in case.”
That got Price to look at you, a little squinty eyed with suspicion. “Only if you can promise that raptor won't try to eat us.” 
“He listens to me,” you promised with a quirk of your lips. “I'll teach him you're part of the tribe so he'll stop trying to take chunks out of you.” 
Price grunted acknowledgement, turning away again. “You do that,” he said. “Gaz, grab the supplies.”
Gaz squeezed your shoulder once before his hand slipped away. You missed the easy warmth of him right away, but forced the feeling away. That kind of longing had no place here. You breathed in deep and walked off to get Watermelon out first. The hyaenadon trotted next to you, ears up, listening. 
At least she still listened to you. 
“I should name you,” you muttered, looking down at her. “What to name you, though?” 
She sat outside the pen as you pulled Watermelon out and threw the saddle bags on. Unwarranted, your gaze strayed to Gaz as he filled canteens with water for the three of you. Half a biscuit hung out of his mouth, lips stained with the berries you added. 
The sight was far too endearing, and you found yourself smiling. You probably needed to make more biscuits by now. You wouldn't be surprised if they were gone. 
You blinked and looked down at the hyaenadon. It was silly, perhaps, but…
“Biscuit.” 
Her ears perked up and she sat, stubby tail wagging. 
“Good girl.” You patted the top of her head, smiling. The name suited her - her coat wasn't too far off the color of the biscuits once they were baked. And Gaz clearly liked her, almost as much as the biscuits. 
Shaking your head, you steered Biscuit and Watermelon to stand by the gate while you put Ripper's bridle on. You skipped the saddle for now - he wouldn't be carrying anything back. 
Price and Gaz joined you at the gate, and Price handed you your handgun. You took it, giving it a quick once over. 
“We have everything?” You confirmed, gate still closed between you and the world. “Ghost knows we're going?”
“Affirm,” Price grunted, though he didn't seem impatient at least. 
“Here.” Gaz handed over your canteen. “Now we're all set.” 
You nodded, breathing in deep. Once more unto the breach… or something like that. 
You pulled the gate open, guiding the dinosaurs out first. Price and Gaz stepped out, guns up, alert and ready. 
The gate closed softly behind you. 
You couldn't help the frission of nerves that tingled down your spine. Leftover nerves from your last errand, undoubtedly. Besides, leaving the base was always dangerous, and you knew that. 
“Yellow drop first,” you decided, walking to the front of the procession. “Stay close.” You whistled for the dinosaurs to follow, head on a swivel as you walked. 
Hopefully nothing would happen this time. You'd had enough excitement for a few days. 
It wasn't terribly far to the yellow drop, but the three of you did have to climb a rise leading up to a short cliff. You paused at the top, both to drink some water and survey the land down below. 
The yellow drop sat clearly visible in the field, tiny wisps of smoke still rising from it. 
Which would have been great. 
Except there was also a carno prowling down there. 
You blew out a slow breath, just looking at the carno. Dammit. You'd known the yellow drop wouldn't be easy. Those never were. 
But you'd already come this far, and you had help for the first time in ages. Might as well make a plan to kill the carno and get the drop.
Besides. You doubted Price and Gaz would leave without the drop. 
“Carnos are fast,” you told them both, quietly, so as not to attract attention. “Not as fast as raptors, but fast enough. They've got thick hides, except for the usual soft spots. Eyes, mouth. So we're going to split up.” 
Price nodded slowly, and you could see the calculations going on behind his eyes as he surveyed the terrain. “You two stay here,” he advised. “I'll loop around that way.” He pointed to where the land dipped down, the easiest entrance to this spot without having to jump down a cliff. 
“We'll lure him this way to start,” you said, frowning briefly at Price, even though that was exactly where you would have asked him to go anyway. “Take Watermelon with you and listen for anything moving behind you.” 
“Rog.” Price looked behind you to Gaz. “Stay sharp.” He didn't wait for a reply, just tugged on Watermelon's bridle and whistled. The two moved away, over to the spot you'd agreed on. 
You breathed out slowly, pulling out your gun and checking it. Just to be sure all was well. 
“Alright?” Gaz touched your shoulder lightly, shifting closer to you. 
“Yeah.” You managed a half-smile. “It's as solid a plan as anything.” 
Gaz nodded, apparently not at all concerned. “We'll take it down,” he assured you. “Don't worry.” 
“Worrying is how I've stayed alive,” you countered dryly. 
Gaz didn't have an answer for that, but he did pat your shoulder again. “Call it,” he said, shifting his position to have clear line of sight to the carno. 
“Let's kill it.” You fired the first shot. It didn't do any damage, but you didn't expect it to. You just wanted its attention. 
The carno turned towards the two of you, beady eyes fixing on you. It stomped once and then ran at you with a shriek. 
You shot at it a few times, but didn't hit anything vital. Fortunately, Gaz was a better shot, and blood sprayed from the carno's snout. The ground started to vibrate as it got closer, thunderous footfalls making you nervous as it got closer.
And then it roared, tossing its head and turning. Price had shot it, catching its attention. Gaz's hand over yours on your gun was unnecessary, as your attention was fixed on the carno, and the closing gap between it and Price. 
“Gaz,” you murmured, shoulders tense, fingers tight around your gun. 
“Wait.” Gaz didn't spare you a glance, attention wholly focused on the carno. “A few more seconds.” 
You were about to ignore him and shoot the carno when it staggered and fell. It twitched twice and went still. 
“Good shot,” Gaz called to Price, easy and calm. You were still shaking. 
Price huffed, amused, and walked over to crouch by the body. “We need anything off this?”
You swallowed hard and shook yourself. Now was not the time to give in to the shakes. You had work to do. “Yes,” you managed, clearing your throat. “I'll gather some of the meat, you two get the drop. Just throw it all in the bags, we'll sort it later. I don't want to stick around long in case there are more carnos.” 
Gaz nodded his agreement, jogging over to Price so they could get the drop. 
You took a little longer getting to the body, Biscuit and Ripper sticking close to you. It was easier to hide your shaking hands when you were breaking down some hide and some meat. It was easier to focus on the task at hand than the haunting what if that played behind your eyes. 
Gaz had let that carno get too close. Sure, Price had killed it with a rather incredible shot through the eye. But he'd been much too close. 
And the more you thought about it, the more agitated you got. 
Cleaning your knife, you let the two tames at the remains of the kill. Yes, everything had been fine, but it was too close to not fine for your liking, especially after Soap getting bit. 
“Got it all,” Gaz said, grinning as he strolled up to you with easy confidence. 
You just nodded once, short and sharp. “Let's go.” You whistled, and Biscuit and Ripper rejoined the group. 
The walk to the green drop was quiet but easier, taking the group of you down to the beach. You stayed in the lead, Biscuit trotting next to you, keeping a little distance between yourself and Gaz and Price. You weren't in the right mindset to talk to them. 
The green drop wasn't fabulous, but it did have some good things. Some clothes, bandages, seeds and food supplies. All good things.
Hopefully the yellow drop had better stuff. 
“Pretty good haul, eh?” Gaz asked, nudging you gently with his elbow as he helped you finish packing. 
“Not bad,” you agreed shortly, glancing at him. “Let's head back. It's getting late.” You stepped away from him and didn't look back as you started towards the base. 
You didn't say another word the rest of the walk back.
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britt-kageryuu · 2 days
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The audience of the stream is watching Leo move about the set checking a laptop, tablet, and his phone all sitting on a desk with a blue gaming chair. He was also swapping his models outfit, not sure which would fit with whatever he was about to talk about.
He finally chose a full Lou Jitsu jumpsuit, with gloves, platform shoes, and shield glasses worn over his usual mask. He plopped back into the chair and poses with his one of his ligs crossed over the other, and leaning onto his left hand.
"Sorry 'bout starting the stream while I wasn't ready. I found some amazing news, and wanted to track down as much actual facts, to make sure I had everything correct." He leans over to the laptop to set something up. Once he was satisfied he turns back to facing the camera.
"So, it's fairly obvious we're big Lou Jitsu fans here, so imagine our surprise to hear about someone attempting to claim his supposed left behind fortune. Because people for some reason think he's dead, and not just trying to live peacefully somewhere." Leo clicks on something, and a news article pops up.
"Woman claims to be Lou Jitsus 'long lost' Daughter/Granddaughter."
"Either the Lady couldn't keep her story straight, or whoever wrote this kept getting conflicting evidence. Part of why I wasn't quite ready. Had to check is with my journalist sis to see if she could help get things straight." He clicks over to something else and a different article takes the place of the previous one.
"Woman attempts to steal fortune of Lou Jitsu with faulty Scam. Surprised by the results!"
"So to set the scene better, this lady shows up out of nowhere, claiming she's, let's see by age... Daughter! Of Lou Jitsu. I don't know how she planned to have this work with modern DNA matching and everything, but she apparently refused to do a DNA test to prove this. If this was literally 30 years earlier she wouldn't have to worry, but I guess she didn't bank on people asking so many questions." He gets rid of the article, and brings up a badly edited birth certificate. "Seems she believed she could just wave around a doctored Birth Certificate, and some flimsy 'photographic evidence' that looked like they were put together in a bootleg photoshop program."
A couple of pictures appear on screen, they were obviously edited pictures of Lou Jitsu "holding" a baby, or child. Then a couple with a little girl that looked very off, the lighting didn't match between the girl, and Lou.
"Yeah, this didn't fly with the people at the banks, or whichever government offices, she had attempted go to, especially since there was a different thing blocking her from succeeding in this sham of a scam." Leo looks proud of himself for that slight word play. Something is thrown at him from off screen, and he glares at whoever threw it before continuing.
"You see, Lou Jitsu had set up an interesting set of security questions and or tests for getting access his bank accounts. He did include a DNA matching test as a last ditch security, but it never got that far. No she got caught at a slightly obscure set of security questions that required you to answer a random on set inside joke from one of Lou Jitsus first movies!" Leo laughs and spins in his chair a couple times. He stops and brings up a new document.
"Okay, so this is a copy of the security tests list we got ahold of, as you can see," He points at a spot near the top that's highlighted, "Lady didn't get very far into the security tests. Yeah there are alot of them, he apparently set this up not long before completely disappearing from the limelight. Though why there's so many tests is anyone's guess! Maybe it's just to annoy whoever attempts to fake their way into his accounts?"
Leo thinks it over a bit before muting the mic and shouting off to the side, then waiting for an answer, where he nods his head, and talks to whoever's off screen, with a couple of odd gestures and head tilts. After a couple minutes he unmutes the mic.
"So, just asked Dee a couple questions, and while we can only speculate why Lou make such a complicated set of tests, what we do know is that the tests were actually updated a few years back. So Lou is still out there, and he knows the Lady made this attempt. And has filed a lawsuit against her! That will be an interesting day in court!!" He quickly stands up and throws his arms up in the air with jazz hands.
After sitting back down he swaps out the documents still on screen with a couple of pictures of the Lady's headshots from getting arrested for attempted fraud, and scam. Her name is blurred out.
"This is the Lady, we don't want to give out her name since she either has a very unfortunate name, or she would only give them a very crude name instead of her actual name. Plus some places can't legally tell the names of people who were arrested, so let's go with that." Leo reads some notes on the laptop then added, "And she might have a record already, but we can't read or find any legal documents that confirm or deny this."
The pictures are taken off the screen, and the lighting changes.
"Well, there's not much more of that incident that's public, so let's move on to something else Lou Jitsu related! They've announced a new special anniversary movie bundle! And we have some info on the special bonus features!" Leo announces, and brings up some graphics for this movie bundle.
The stream continues from there, and even though some people in chat are still shouting questions about the scammer lady segment, they get ignored and buried under other things spammed in the chat. Especially since donation notifications were disabled for the stream.
-------------------
Masterpost
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habakos · 11 months
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Explodes them with my mind
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canisalbus · 7 months
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you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels
Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.
#no in fact he's just a little ahead of the curve let me try to explain#again I'm not a historian I'm just sharing what I've read I might be misremembering stuff so don't quote me on this#high heels became extremely fashionable in the early 1600's probably just a few decades after Machete's time#and they were originally worn by men#because they were inspired by Persian riding boots#if your shoes had heels you'd have easier time keeping your feet in the stirrups (think of cowboy boots)#Europeans saw them thought they looked snazzy and they became wildly popular in noble circles fairly quickly#for some hundred years or so high heels were the epitome of class wealth power and status and they were essentially genderless#remember that concepts of masculinity and femininity are fluid and change over time#things that were seen as manly a few centuries ago may seem downright effeminate to a modern viewer#it's all matter of perspective neither is objectively more correct than the other#they started to separate into men's heels and women's heels around mid 1700's iirc but the changes weren't massive even then#and only truly went out of vogue when the French Revolution hit in 1789#and people all across the continent were suddenly put off by everything that reminded them#of the frivolousness and extravagance of royalty and aristicracy#so in his canon timeline I don't think people are looking at him and going “hmmm that's pretty gay”#because heels hadn't become gendered yet#maybe he likes how they accentuate his already tiny paws and make his legs look even longer than they are#he's interested in fashion or at least likes to dress nicely in high quality garments#he tries very hard to look his best despite never really feeling comfortable in his skin#he was a real shrimp as a kid and even though he eventually grew up to be a beanpole he might still find the extra height appealing#no one's going to look down on him ever again#I admit the way I draw them is a lot more modern than the true historical style at the time but not outrageously so#artistic freedom and all that in the end I'm not aiming for 100% accuracy#modern au Machete has no excuses though he's just a little bit fruity#if the guy feels empowered by wearing little clip cloppers let him#answered#anonymous#Machete
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sant-riley · 6 months
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[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]
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(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))
Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.
Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3
Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)
Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!
Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.
Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.
Price:
Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.
John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.
John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.
John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.
A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.
If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.
He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.
The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.
The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"
Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)
He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.
Ghost:
Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.
Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.
Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.
However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.
Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).
He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."
Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.
He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.
I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.
On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.
Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans
This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.
Soap:
Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.
Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)
Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.
Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).
I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-
Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.
You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.
Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.
He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.
Gaz:
Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.
His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.
The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.
"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"
When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.
I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.
He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.
He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.
Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.
He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.
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the-acid-pear · 10 months
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Mentioned my little brother mentioned my mother mentioned my ptsd diagnosis and I got so stressed my eyes started burning and I had to take a pill LMAO
#luly talks#pastera salio el blogger 🫢 oopsie x3#hey hay peores. una pasta garpa más que un pucho o un trago.#soy lo suficientemente caradura para hacer un chiste sobre Malvinas y mi estres postraumático?#creo que no. me pone mal Malvinas todavia soy como león gieco literal#saben que me crié con ese tipo? todavia recuerdo el video de uhh#hora de una historia actually. when i was a kid my mother had her pc my dad's pc my pc and it was the 2000s so she has music downloaded#and other than being obsessed w the black eyed peas there was this video of leon gieco solo le pido a Dios#and there was this powerpoint sad photo slide and i remember this one pic of a little african kid bc it FREAKED THE SHIT OUT OF ME#bc it was just a little kid a little toddler who was starving i insist this was the 2000s but i for some reason thought the kid was like.#covered in needles? and i mean maybe they were. but i think i just... imagined it#the hallucinations and the intrusive thoughts aren't something i started experiencing as an adult LMAO#esp for the intrusive thoughts.#i think i just didn't realize their hair was just Like That and that's why i thought it was needles and i remember telling my mom as i#looked away scared like it was the msot fucked up shit ever bc to me it was and she was like ah yeah those are the kids [word i forgot] :/#and the fact that she didn't correct me or comfort me just eternally haunts me#i mean it definitely wont anymore now that i shared it but it always haunted me#never understood why but i think its that. i think its her lack of reaction towards me#mind you i was no older than 5-6. and she didnt even comfort me. or explain it.#which is the approach she always had towards me#which also explains why i never trusted anyone with my intrusive thoughts or hallucinations or similar#well i did as a teen when i said flashie that literally means Hallucinated but in a drug context (so a more casual one)#and even then i was like turned down like it wasn't possible#even know when i was telling my dad about my ptsd he was like well i cannot disprove what you feel but the diagnosis is subjective#and w my mother i was desperate to go to doctors and get diagnosis(-is/es?) bc i needed someone to listen to me#it is a hopeless existence i carry#and yet. i fish.#brain stuff
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pocket-deer-boy · 6 months
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This is just a personal pet peeve of mine but i feel like a lot of online art tutorials overstate the importance of stuff like guidelines to get “correct” anatomy every single time and while those are typically really good handgrips for beginners we should also tell beginners about gesture drawing. Like maybe i’m being too animatorbrained here but being able to pump out a pose in anywhere from 15 seconds to 2 minutes and quickly move onto the next drawing without lingering on every little mistake is a really really good way at getting good at drawing people proportions quickly. If you make mistakes fast you learn from them fast. So here’s a little exercise:
Sit down, grab some reference images, draw ten poses in twenty minutes (or do ten poses in ten minutes if you’re feeling adventurous or confident) and take a step back and look at your work after the fact. Be sure to move from drawing to drawing quickly once your timer is done. Pretend you’re in a model drawing class and the model has already changed pose whenever your timer hits - finish up whatever lines you were drawing, move on to looking at what the model is doing now.
You will make a lot of shitty drawings, of course, but that’s not so bad. You only spent a minute or two making each one. Focus on the drawings you do like, and look at them as a whole.
Look at all the drawings together and how they fit together on the page. Look at little details and lines you’re proud of. Take note of things you found difficult to get right in such a short time. Take note of the things you liked doing. Do the exercise again, and focus in on the things you want to improve or explore.
Maybe you want to focus on how the torso conveys its weight on the legs. Maybe you want to focus on how shoulders and arms bend around the neck. Maybe you want to focus on how to convey depth on the torso. Maybe you can learn something more about how to draw a body if you only draw using sharp lines and angles. Maybe you can learn something more if you only draw using squiggly, overlapping lines. Maybe you can learn more about how to draw a body if you only fill out the shadows with thick, quick lines. Congratulations! You’re not just learning how to draw a body, but you’re now also exploring your tastes!
This is a fine exercise to do alone, but it’s a lot more fun to do as an activity with a small group so you get to discuss the art you made together.
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alastorss · 3 months
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brother i still have no idea how tumblr works and this is my first request and it might not even be in the right place but—
why does NO ONE talk about the fact that “Allie” would be such a silly nickname for Alastor? i would love to see some headcanons/a lil story about how he would react to the reader calling him that. maybe completely detests it at first but secretly likes it?
a/n: hello lovely, you've come to the right place 🫶 yes yes yes!!! i'm obsessed with this idea <3 i'm adding to this: he would think you're mad at him when you finally call him normally again ^ ^
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"What did you say?"
"Huh?" You hum, attention devoted to fixing Alastor's bowtie.
"That thing you just said. Repeat it."
You finally blink at him, using your palms to smooth out the front of his jacket before stepping out of his bubble. "I said your tie was undone."
"No, dear, before that."
The Radio Demon can feel his eye twitching in irritation. You look at him again dumbly, trying to retrace your steps.
"Oh!" You flash him a little smile and he thinks his brain is going to explode. "Allie?"
He just gawks at you, surprised by the sheer audacity you have. And it doesn't help that he's so fond of you that he doesn't even want to strike you down.
Had it been someone else calling him so endearingly, he might have done something violent. But how could he do that to you, his darling companion, when you look so sweet calling him such a ridiculous name?
"My apologies but... where did that come from?"
"Isn't it cute?" You grin, completely dodging his question.
No, he wants to say. Absolutely not. However, your smile is ever-growing and he can't very well deny you this pleasure. So he sucks it up, draws in a deep inhale to compose himself, and nods.
"Of course, cher."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Weeks pass and the rest of your friends in the hotel begin to raise a brow at how casually you address such a powerful Overlord. And more than that, he doesn't seem to want to correct you.
It becomes his name reserved exclusively for you. Angel had tried, once, to purr out Allie in a seductive way that made Alastor's skin crawl. Never again.
He gets used to it. Even likes the idea that there is something shared between you that no one else can have. That is, until you're pushing around your breakfast on a plate one morning.
"Can you pass the salt, Alastor?"
He looks up from his mug of coffee in confusion, brain taking a moment to buffer before it catches up with his already moving mouth.
"Alastor?" He repeats his own name, staring at you intensely and most definitely not passing the salt over the table.
You look back up at him blankly. "That's your name, don't wear it out."
He scoffs at your lame joke before sliding the salt shaker over the table. There's something unsettling him and he can't quite place it.
Setting down his newspaper, he watches you as you eat. His gaze is so fiery that you look up from your food almost instantly.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?"
Your brows scrunch. "No, why?"
"Why did you not call me Allie?"
Complete and utter silence settles over the dining table until he feels like he can't breathe. Your spoonful of food hovers just in front of your open mouth as you stare.
Then, laughter. Laughter fills the room and his ears so heartily that he feels it in his own chest. You double over the table in your fit, spoon clinking onto the plate as you drop it.
"What?" He grumbles.
"Of course I'm not mad at you!" You howl, using a finger to wipe up the tears gathering in your eyes. "'Sides, I thought you hated that name?"
His jaw grows taut. "Hate is a powerful word."
"So you like it?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Liar, you do!"
Alastor is never one to get flustered, but here he is for the first time in his afterlife, teetering on the edge of bursting out in flames. "You are terrible, you know that?"
You snicker, leg getting trapped between his under the table. "Yeah, Allie, I know."
Yet the way his smile softens says it all.
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc (send an ask to be added!)
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yzzart · 6 months
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between white sheets.
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.
summary: a lazy morning with your boyfriend after a long night.
word count: 721!
notes: just a quick little thing, i thought of this scenario and here it is.
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"Oh, i know you're awake…"
A typical and familiar British accent, with a deep and smug tone, vibrated against your bare neck; causing a kind of tickling and a wave of goosebumps in the region. — It was impossible not to squirm against the soft, fragrant sheets.
Even with your failed mission to pretend that you was still sleeping, your eyes remained closed but it was impossible to contain a warm and bright smile on your lips. — Your lips were traitors, you believed that. — And, in a matter of seconds and due to the lack of interaction, that smile turned into a loud and vibrant laugh.
Your neck received, once again, attention but now due to the small beard, not so annoying, that grew in the region of Tom's face; this time, an intense tickling sensation. — You tried to remove his face from between your neck with your hands but, unsurprisingly, you failed when he held both of you with just one hand.
Tom's laugh, which was muffled between your neck and pillow, joined against yours and echoed throughout the large and tidy room where you were staying. — Well, apart from just some of the clothes you guys had to wear to more TBOSAS opening night and accessories; the room was organizing. — And you swear, with the old, childish pinky promise, that you could listen to your laugh for hours.
Last night was so tiring, but so good; in fact, it was magnificent. — Once again meeting with the cast, giving interviews and taking countless photos with fans and in print; it was a special night.
Lifting his head and directing it towards the pillow, as it was in previous minutes, Tom finds himself observing the image before his eyes. — Your chest rose and fell gently, trying to recover and manage your breathing, your hair, with some stubborn and messy strands, spread across the pillow. — A radiant and fascinating scene for the eldest.
Not to mention, a sleepy smile on your lips. — If Tom had the opportunity and absolute power, he would stop time and stay like this with you forever.
"Good morning, my love." — His voice is hoarser than normal, and Tom wraps an arm around your covered waist, bringing your body even closer to his. — "How did you sleep, huh?" — He asks, giving small, loving kisses on your shoulder. — "The most beautiful woman in this world."
"Good…" — You replied, sleepy with red and embarrassed cheeks, and ran a hand through his hair; leaving a prolonged and attentive caress and then, moving your head, to leave a kiss on his forehead. — "What time is it?"
"I don't know…?" — Blyth raised his head and now you had the opportunity to admire his blue orbs so crystal clear, deep and enchanting; you found yourself falling even more in love with the boy every time his eyes met yours. — "Maybe it's eight, nine or even twelve hours?"
It was ironic to think that the clock was just a few steps away from the bed where you were and neither of you really cared. — Maybe it would be laziness, sleepiness or an excuse to spend more time together. — And the correct option was the third, no surprises.
Your eyes roamed between the dark locks and a few shy curls of Tom's hair, and all the comments about the idea of him actually opting to dye him blond — just like Coriolanus — played in your mind. — and every time they talked to you about this subject, you replied: "that wouldn't be a bad idea."
But, you always made it clear that you were the number one fan of his natural color. — And there were fans who agreed with you; you saw it on your social media and thought it was so funny and always showed it to Tom and the rest of the cast.
"What are our plans today?" — You whispered. — "… i'm seriously thinking about the idea of staying here all day." — In the middle of the sentence, you couldn't contain your laughter again; which this time was brief. — "Really." — Fatigue ran freely through your body and he wanted a long rest.
"Really?" — Blyth murmured, placing his face between your neck for the second time in a row that morning; you just nodded in confirmation, now felt prolonged kisses on your sensitive area. — "Then make your words mine."
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dandylovesturtles · 4 months
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Made myself emotional over the “Leo and Donnie chose to be twins” headcanon.
———
“By the way, it’s Leo and Donnie’s birthday next Thursday. You’re coming, right?”
Draxum looked up from his work organizing next week’s lunch schedule to look at Michelangelo, sitting on the counter and swinging his feet. Celebrating individual birthdays wasn’t a thing that the yokai did, but Draxum had been forced to accept that the boys could not be dissuaded from this human tradition. He’d been to two birthday parties now, for Michelangelo and Raphael respectively, eating cake and presenting them with some small trinket he purchased.
He’d known that he would have to go to more birthday parties at some point. But he wasn’t expecting two at once.
“Why on the same day? I can’t imagine the blue one wanting to share.” Actually, he couldn’t imagine Donatello wanting to share, either.
“Oh,” said Michelangelo with a laugh. “That’s ‘cause they’re twins!”
Draxum stared at him. “Twins? What kind of nonsense is that?”
Mikey tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“They’re entirely different species, for starters,” Draxum pointed out.
“I mean, we all are, but we’re still brothers.”
“Yes, by virtue of your shared DNA donor and the circumstances of your raising.” Draxum waved that off. “But “twins” refers to a situation where two children are born at once, especially as the result of a split of a fertilized egg. Which is absolutely impossible in the case of Leonardo and Donatello. Even if I were to be charitable and simply consider them “twins” for having the same hatch day, I can tell you they do not.”
“Uh, okay,” said Michelangelo, unimpressed. “But they’ve always been twins, so I don’t think it matters to them.”
“Why not? I would think it would matter to Donatello especially, since he claims to be scientifically minded.”
Michelangelo laughed. “Not everything is about science, Barry. Not even to Donnie.”
“Then his decisions about when to apply science and when not to are inconsistent and confusing.”
“Well, it’s their birthday, so they get to pick.”
“I am certain that is not how birthdays work.”
“It’s how it works for us!” Michelangelo slipped off the counter. “We’ll see you on Thursday, right? It’ll mean a lot to them if you come!”
Draxum was fairly sure Leonardo in particular would prefer he didn’t, but that didn’t matter. Now he had a mission: he had to correct this strange incongruence.
“Yes, I will be there.”
“Yay!” cheered Michelangelo. “Okay, see ya Dad!”
He squeezed Draxum around the waist on his way out. Draxum was finding he didn’t mind that as much as he used to.
———
Leonardo and Donatello’s party was just as loud and obnoxious as the other two. Blue and purple decorations covered every inch of the old subway station, strange music blared from unseen speakers, and a horrendous amount of junk food was spread out over a table. It was the same group of people present today as there ever was, the eclectic mix of humans and yokai that the boys considered family, but it felt like a crowd three times the size with the amount of noise being made.
Draxum stood off on his own for most of it, his slim birthday present already delivered to the table stacked with gifts. He’d been a little shocked when Donatello and then Leonardo came by to say hello, since he’d been prepared to be ignored by both of them. It was… nice, maybe, that they did that. Even if Leonardo just wanted to make jokes at his expense.
For most of the party, the two birthday boys seemed to be competing with each other for attention. In fact, the longer he took it all in, the whole affair seemed like a clash of ideas. The purple decorations were neat and tidy, geometric patterns and hard angles. The blue decorations were whimsical, uncoordinated, and haphazard, and there were places it seemed someone had deliberately covered up some of the purple with the blue. Leonardo wanted to play rock music and Donatello wanted to play techno. The cake was a mess because they’d both requested different themes for the decorations. There were arguments between the two of them every few minutes, and according to the human girl April this was “typical behavior.”
But why? They weren’t really twins. They didn’t have to share this day.
Hopefully Draxum’s plan would fix all this nonsense.
When it was time for gifts, Leonardo loudly declared that he was going first, sparking an argument. They squabbled for a bit before agreeing to play rock-paper-scissors, which was apparently what they did every year.
Leonardo won the game and celebrated obnoxiously while Donatello scowled at him. Then he gestured at the gift table - which Draxum, in his efforts to stay out of the main throng, was closest to.
“Hey, Barry! Grab me a gift! Make it a good one.”
Draxum sighed but reached over to take one of the blue packages, checking the tag to make sure it was for Leonardo. “This one is… to Leo from Donnie,” he read.
“Oh no, not that one. Our presents to each other are always last.”
“Because they always get sappy about it,” said April with a laugh.
“Do not!” yelled Leonardo at the same time Donatello hissed, “You take that back!”
“Uh, yeah you do, and you know I’m right.”
Draxum ignored the petty argument to look back at the gift table. If they weren’t going to be satisfied with his choice, he might as well give them his own gift.
He lifted it, in its sensible brown packaging, off the table and handed it over.
“Why not start with this? It’s to both of you from me.”
“Both of us at once?” asked Leonardo. “Oh man, you’re throwing off our whole system, Barry.”
“Yes, but he’s giving it to you,” Donatello pointed out, “which means my turn is still next.”
“Uh, no, if it’s for both of us then it counts for both of us, which means it comes back around to me!”
“Ooooh no, you do not get to loophole your way into opening two presents in a row-“
“Ahem!” Draxum loudly cleared his throat, getting their attention. “Would you please just open it?”
“Yikes,” said Leonardo. “Touchy.”
“Some people just don’t understand the sanctity of opening birthday gifts,” said Donatello with a sniff. But he leaned in to watch as Leonardo tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box.
They were both silent for a moment, staring at it. Then Leonardo said, “Uh, no offense, Barry, but what is this?”
“It’s a… scientific study on how twins are formed during the gestational period,” said Donatello, pulling the paper clipped thesis from the box. “Oh, there are more in here… Also about twins.”
“Uh…” Leonardo blinked at it, clearly bewildered. Well, he was always a bit slow. “Thanks…? I think?”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the scientific literature,” said Donatello, “but this isn’t really my area of study and Leo does better with training manuals and textbooks than research papers.” He looked up at Draxum. “Is there something about this we aren’t getting?”
“Yes there is,” said Draxum, sweeping his hand around at the entire party. “I am here to correct your mistaken assumption that you are twins.”
The room fell silent. Donatello set the paper back in the box, staring at him. Leonardo’s brow creased in anger.
“We are twins, though,” he said, setting the box aside like it was burning him.
“No, you are not. There is simply no way that the two of you could be twins. It is biologically impossible.”
“You think that I’m so stupid I don’t know that?” Donatello demanded, getting up from the chair he was sitting in. “Are you doubting my intelligence?”
“Yes, if you honestly think you are twins with him, then I am.”
“Uhhh, Draxum,” said Michelangelo quickly, stepping between him and the now furious Donatello, “this was a… funny joke, but you can stop now-“
“This is not a joke. I am simply explaining the facts.”
“Yeah, well,” now Leonardo was on his feet, too, “the facts are that me and Donnie are twins. Always have been, always will be.”
“You are not,” Draxum insisted. “And given what I have seen here today, I’d think you’d both be relieved, since you clearly don’t enjoy being twins!”
Both boys looked like they’d just been slapped in the face. The rest of the room had gone completely silent, like everyone was collectively holding their breath.
Donatello broke first, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, his hands balled into fists and his shoulders hunched up as high as they could go. “Dee!” called Leonardo, and then he was scurrying off after him. There was the sound of a heavy door slamming, then silence.
It didn’t last long.
“Draxum!” roared the rat, actually getting up from his chair to get in Draxum’s face. “You come in here and upset my boys on their own birthday!?”
“Seriously not cool, Drax,” said the human April. Cassandra shook her head in shared disappointment behind her.
Draxum pushed Lou Jitsu back, scowling at his accusers. “I was only explaining reality! This is really the rat’s fault for letting their delusion go on so long.”
“Delusion!?”
“Barry!”
“Rat!?”
“Ooookay,” said Raphael suddenly, stepping his way into the middle of the fray and starting to herd Draxum back toward the exit. “That’s enough of that for now.”
“I am simply trying to explain-“
“Trust me, hoss, you wanna step away from this one,” said Raphael, and his tone was angry but surprisingly measured. “Come on.”
They retreated to the sewer tunnels outside the subway station. The smell was much worse out here, and Draxum wrinkled his nose.
“Alright.” Raphael heaved a sigh, folding his arms. “So here’s the deal. Mikey likes you, and I guess I kinda do too, so I’m gonna try to help you before you completely torpedo your chances with the rest of the guys. Which, you kinda did already, but maybe we can turn it around.”
“I still don’t understand why they’re so upset,” said Draxum. “Surely it was obvious they aren’t twins.”
“Uh, yeah, they know they aren’t twins by bio-whatever,” agreed Raphael. “They ain’t stupid.”
“Hmm.” Draxum turned up his nose. “Donatello isn’t stupid, maybe.”
“Leo ain’t stupid, either, he just pretends like it.” Raphael pinched his brow. “Listen, that isn’t the point - the point is they already know they didn’t come from the same egg or hatch the same day or whatever. They’re just twins anyway.”
“But how? That doesn’t make sense!”
Raphael sighed again. “Alright, look. Dad didn’t know when we hatched, right? But we all wanted birthday parties like we saw on TV, so he let us pick.”
“Yes. And for some reason Leonardo and Donatello chose the same day.” Draxum could figure that much out on his own.
Raphael nodded. “I was the biggest and oldest, and Mikey was the littlest and youngest, and Leo and Donnie were just kinda sandwiched in the middle. I think at first they just wanted a thing. Somethin’ that set them apart from me and Mikey, ya know?”
“Not really,” said Draxum. Raphael glared at him, and he sighed. “But go on.”
“So they picked the same birthday and called themselves twins. I think Pops just so glad they were actually getting along that he agreed to it. And I think he thought once we got to the day, and they realized they were really gonna have to share it, they’d both demand their own day instead. I know I thought that was gonna happen.” He smiled at the memory. “But the day came, and… they fussed the whole time just like they do now. Arguing about what kind of cake they wanted and who got to open their present first. But they didn’t ask to split. They kept it the same day, and they kept calling each other twins and it just stuck, until we didn’t question it anymore.”
“…They are both stubborn,” Draxum pointed out, and Raphael laughed once.
“Yeah, guess they are. But that’s not what this is.” Raphael shrugged. “They chose each other back then. Maybe at first it was just to have a thing, but then it became real. And every single year they keep choosing each other. That’s why they’re twins.”
Choosing each other as twins… Draxum furrowed his brow. “It’s not normally a choice,” he pointed out finally.
“Yeah, well, our family doesn’t get a lot of choices, so just let ‘em have this one, okay?”
“…Fine,” Draxum finally relented. “As long as it’s noted that this is purely a social designation, and not a biological one.”
“Uh, sure, whatever.” Raphael rolled his eyes. “Glad we got that cleared up, though. Think you can come back to the party and behave?”
Draxum wrinkled his nose at that phrasing, but nodded. “Yes. I will not bring it up again.”
“Good!” Raphael’s smile abruptly transitioned into something much more dangerous. “Because if you make my little brothers upset on their birthday again, I’ll remind you what it was like when we were enemies.”
Then the smile was back. “Now let’s go in!”
He walked back to the subway station, leaving Draxum to follow on his own. Draxum couldn’t help but sigh wistfully.
Raphael would have made a great general for his army.
———
The boys had already returned by the time Draxum got back. They were opening more gifts, and he noted they were wearing hoodies now - though they had apparently decided to swap their signature colors. They were smiling and chattering, and any hint of their earlier upset was gone.
Until Draxum stepped into their line of sight, and both of them went rigid, wary of him.
Apparently just talking to the red one was not enough. Draxum would have to do more. What a pain.
But he didn’t want the boys to hate him. So he sighed and launched into it.
“I… am sorry. I shouldn’t have said you aren’t twins.”
The boys looked surprised at that; slowly, their posture loosened back up.
“And… to make up for my present, I will… take the two of you wherever you want to go in the Hidden City.” The next words were painful, and he ground them out. “My treat.”
Leonardo and Donatello shifted their gaze from him to each other. They were silent, but it didn’t seem like they needed to talk to have a conversation.
Then they finally looked back at Draxum, slow grins growing over both their faces.
Eerily matching, very evil grins.
“Oh,” said Leonardo, happily menacing. “I think we can think of something.”
“I concur,” said Donatello in the exact same tone.
Oh, thought Draxum. Maybe they really are twins.
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temis-de-leon · 3 months
Text
Pick me girls and OM! Brothers - Part 2
Characters: Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)
Part 1 - Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)
Part 3 - Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)
Masterlist
CW: pick me girl behavior, one of these girls is actually really stupid, suggestive, mentions of sex between the brothers and mc, mentions of violence, a bit of magic, mentions of cheating (not actual cheating), nightmares, implied death, jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, still ooc but i had even more fun
.
Satan
Your boyfriend looked more offended than you ever had the chance to feel.
The cashier at the bookstore barely had the time to say anything about her supposed romance with the demon before he appeared in his signature pose: a hand in his hip and the other one over his chest.
He had been a regular for years and you didn't know if the girl had been delusional enough to believe she had something with him or if she was just jealous and wanted to make you feel bad.
You weren't sure which one was sadder.
"Am I hearing this correctly?" he said with spite, distracting you from your own thoughts "Are you so daft you were considering me reciprocating your feelings?"
The girl lowered her gaze, clearly embarrassed, and for a moment you felt guilty. Maybe she really thought she had something mutual going on with Satan; a crush that went too far in her own imagination.
She proved you wrong, however, when not only did she give you a side eye, but also said the most stupidest thing one could ever muster.
"Well, obviously you are so daft you chose them over me"
You couldn't waste time on feeling hurt; not when Satan was showing his fangs, letting his tail scratch the floor as it lashed behind him. As hot as he looked like this, it was not the moment nor the place to show his demon form in a fit of rage.
The stupid cashier seemed proud of getting a reaction out of him, finally catching his attention. Maybe she was a demon of wrath too? Maybe that's how she flirted with other demons?
The poor thing would be lucky if she ever lived to see another day.
Let her discover that fact on her own.
"She's not worth it, Satan" you urged, pushing him to the door "Let's go to that cat cafe you mentioned earlier. You said they had new kittens, right?"
That seemed to do the trick.
He looked at you with love, still mixed with anger and bewilderment, but not enough for you not to hold his hand and lean against him.
"I'm sorry, my dear" he murmured, then he spoke louder "Do not believe a word she said"
"I would never"
"Good"
He nodded to himself, like the idea of you believing the cashier was too stupid to even consider it, but neither of you could ignore how his hand stiffened in yours for a second.
"Let's go see some kittens" you said in a singing voice, leading him in the street towards your destination.
You failed to see the adoration in his eyes.
Asmo
This succubus dated Asmo long before you were even an idea in your parents' minds and she wanted you to keep that in mind.
She wanted you to know that everything you knew, she knew better (a blatant lie) and that Asmo preferred experience over novelty (ew).
"I remember the times we went to the sauna and... Oh, sorry, does he take you to the sauna?"
"He invited me a couple of times, yes" but I had to say no or else I would've boiled alive.
"And does he...?"
Does he. Does he. Does he.
He does. HE DOES. HE DEFINITELY DOES.
In which moment did you think going to The Fall was a better plan than doing each other's skincare routine while making fun of 50 shades of Grey?
The both of you could be criticizing that poor excuse of BDSM right now (before recreating the correct version), but, instead, Asmo was ordering the girliest cocktail ever made while this Camila Cabello wannabe harassed you.
"...that was a little joke between us"
Lord Diavolo she just kept going.
"I'm so happy you remember so well your past relationship with him" you intervened with a strain in your voice, "but maybe it's time for you to stop and leave"
The succubus smirked with a smugness that made your innards burn from the inside out.
"Don't get jealous! I'm sure he loves you too"
Oh my Lord.
The lion, the witch and the audacity of this bitch.
"Hon', look at this!"
There he came, your savior, dressed in a skimpy dress with hands full of shimmery drinks and a glint in his very beautiful loving eyes.
"They didn't have human beverages, but I swear the taste is impeccable, you'll love it! Just let me take a picture for Devilgram first"
Camila Cabello, as you had finally decided to call her, cleared her throat in search of the demon's attention. Asmodeus looked in her direction, obviously trying to remember who she was.
"Asmo, baby!" she was nothing but a smile full teeth and a mission. Her gaze a little desperate "Remember me?"
Her determination died, however, when Asmo's expression turned shocked after studying her. He grasped his chest in sorrow as he asked the funniest question you could hear at the moment.
"What are you wearing?"
Camila Cabello was finally at a loss of words and you briefly wondered if this had ever happened to her.
"If you're gonna meddle in my relationship with MC at least take effort in looking decent"
His expression was sweet, saccharine, but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice.
He was so beautiful. And he was all yours.
Beel
She was one of the boys, apparently. Beel had definitely never mentioned her, but the girl only laughed when you told her that.
"Wow, controlling much? Does he have to tell you about every friend?"
Well, no, Beel didn't have to inform you about everyone he's ever met, but your boyfriend was sweet enough to want you in every aspect of his life, thus introducing you to his friends, his teammates and even his gym bros.
Definitely not to this girl.
You looked at her in disbelief, licking your teeth with a calculating glance. How much would Beel care if you hit this airhead with a dumbbell?
"We hang out together almost every day" she boasted, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger "It's not even weird for me to be in the boys locker room"
Were you strong enough to throw a dumbbell?
Surely she'd rather be with them instead of you if she was 'one of the boys', no? Why would she be in the bleachers with you, waiting for the team to finish their training, when she could be in any other part of the field doing exercise or playing for another sport?
"I'm not making you insecure, am I?" asked the girl in poorly faked innocence "If he loves you so much you should have nothing to worry about"
"Oh, I trust him" you assured her, but you didn't sound as confident as you wanted to. Although Beel never gave you any reasons to doubt him, it was difficult to defend your relationship when this girl was so convinced everyone was in love with her.
"That's so cool"
You decided to ignore her and her mocking tone, hoping to end the conversation right there, but she just kept talking. It was obvious she wanted to get under your skin.
For what? you wondered. Did she expect Beel to leave you if she batted her lashes fast enough? Did she know Beel at all??
"Oh, Beely!"
You cringed with a scowl visible to everyone around you. Some of Beel's teammates laughed at your missfortune, while the others, the ones you liked best, turned around in horror and left without a second glance.
Wether he was oblivious or just didn't care, Beel wasted no time in running towards you with a smile on his face.
"Did you see me?" he asked, looking up to you with a boyish grin and brightened eyes.
"I'm always looking at you"
Beel blushed, his smile still obvious in his face, but he couldn't get another word in before the girl talked again.
"I was looking at you too"
You rolled your eyes and Beel immediately stared at you with a curious glance. He hummed in response, ignoring her once again as he reached out for your hand to caress your knuckles.
"There's a new limited edition menu in a restaurant near RAD"
No questions added nor needed. You smiled at him and nodded, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss it. A promise for later.
"Noo, we used to go there so much..."
"Can you stop?" Beel interrupted her with a deadpan expression "You're making MC uncomfortable"
The girl looked at him in surprise, mouth wide open, clearly not expecting to be snapped at.
She didn't dare to look at you after that.
Belphie
It wasn't the first time you dreamt about this girl and it wasn't the first time you dreamt about her stealing your sloth of a boyfriend.
She wasn't some mystery girl, but rather Belphie's old seatmate, the one he had before you were kidnapped admitted in RAD. A quiet doe-eyed succubus that looked at him like he was the best thing that ever happened to both human and demon mankind.
She'd tried to sit next to him a couple of times with no avail, always getting rejected in your favor. Then, Belphie and you started dating and she stopped trying. You'd innocently thought she'd surrendered.
But not only did she search for him the very few times you guys weren't next to each other, she also ignored you completely when you were there.
Ignoring her back was easier said than done.
And this time, the oniric version of her wasn't just stealing your boyfriend. This time, he was willingly going to her, making your heart hurt so much it made you wake up with what felt like broken ribs.
It took you a couple of minutes to pull yourself together and not push Belphie away when he brought you back to his chest. The image of him kissing her while looking at you was engraved in your mind.
So, although sweating and hurting both from your heart and your confidence, you forced yourself to sleep.
You didn't notice just how awake Belphie was.
Back when you were still friends, you had allowed him to introduce himself into your slumber each time you had a nightmare. Images of you dying under the jaws and claws of faceless demons disappeared faster when the real Belphie was there. Ironic, isn't it?
He tried to stop every single one of them, but sometimes he was so deep in his own dreams it was proved to be impossible.
You thought this was one of those occasions, but, alas, you were wrong.
Days passed without any new event and Belphie mentioned nothing about your initial irrational coldness towards him, which made you feel a tiny bit better. Eventually you'd get so embarrassed about the situation that you had no other option but to dote on him like the brat he was, leading to a whole weekend sprawled over his bed in the attic.
The girl was still there, although not as persistent with Belphie, and she avoided you like the plague, with fright in her eyes.
So he did something about her, didn't he? But how did he know? And what did he do? You wanted to ask, curious as ever, but as time went by and the eyebags under her eyes started to occupy her entire face, you decided against it.
Barely a month later she disappeared without leaving trace. And since Belphie didn't even acknowledge her at all, why would you?
Tagging a little more: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae
1K notes · View notes
rileyslibrary · 10 months
Note
pretty pretty please 🩶
imagine ghost is forced to speak at a school’s career fair because he’s out on medical, and reader gets sent with him to chaperone. (i.e. make sure he doesn’t scare any kids to 💀. and also maybe to feed him some slightly manipulative praises so he stays in a good mood lmao)
———————————————————————
You’re both standing in the principal’s office. The school was kind enough to offer you a private room since kids are a little rowdy today, and Ghost isn’t very fond of tiny hands tagging at his uniform and asking him “how many people he has killed”.
You’re holding two balaclavas; one is black, while the other is a deep shade of army green.
“It’s either this one or that one.” You say while raising both to his eye level.
He pushes your hands down and points to his skull mask. “No.” He states. “I’ll stick with the one I’m wearing.”
You frustratedly shake the balaclavas to your sides. “Come on, Lieutenant,” you plead, “you’ll scare the kids.”
“Have you seen kids these days?” he asks, raising his hands. “These fuckers are not afraid of anything!”
“Oh god,” You wince and toss the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. You shake your index finger at his face like a teacher disciplining a misbehaving student. “Don’t you dare to swear in front of them!”
“Have you heard, kids—”
“—these days.” You cut him off with a flick of the wrist. “Yes, but there’s no need to reinforce bad behaviour.”
He lets out a long exhale and places his hands on his waist. He begins pacing around the principal’s office, swearing under his breath. You’re trying to figure out whether he needs to let it all out before his big speech or if he’s cursing the moment he has agreed to do this.
He pauses in front of a painting hanging next to a window overlooking the school’s playground. He slouches and places one hand on his lower back, rubbing his injury.
You approach him from behind and gently grasp his forearm.
“Hey,” you whisper, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replies sternly. “Never mind.”
“Are you in pain? Please talk to me.”
“I’m not in pain!” He protests. “In fact, I wasn’t in pain to begin with, when the medics decided that I was,” he makes air quotes with his fingers, “temporarily unfit for duty.”
You place a palm on his lower back and begin rubbing it. He relaxes at your touch and puts one hand on the wall to support his weight.
“You talk about not reinforcing bad behaviour,” he murmurs, “but I’m not the best role model either.”
“Bullshit!” You scowl.
“Seriously,” he insists, “I highly doubt I’d be here talking to kids about their future if I hadn’t been injured.”
He’s correct, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially now, as you wait to enter a classroom full of kids. Any other team member would be far more qualified for this role. Gaz is such a cool guy that most kids would deem him a god. Price feels like the father you wish you had when he talks, and Soap can adapt to anyone he speaks to. Even you would be a better fit for this year’s career fair. But, Ghost? No, not at all.
“Come on, Simon,” you say as you continue rubbing his back. “It’s less about ‘being a role model’ and more about relating to them.”
“How am I supposed to relate to them?” He wonders, “My childhood was nothing like theirs.”
“How do you know?”
He looks at you and motions towards the window. “Look at them,” he says, “they’re full of life.”
“Not all of them are like that, Ghost; some are putting on a show.” You explain, and he turns to look at you again. “They look all jolly, but they might struggle at home or school. Worse, they can’t admit what’s happening behind closed doors because they’re either ordered to remain silent or not understand it themselves.”
He huffs and shakes his head. “Now I can relate to that.” He murmurs.
“See? You need to spot these kids and indirectly talk to them.”
“Spot?” He asks. “How do I spot them?”
“You mean to tell me you’re trained to spot targets from miles away but can’t see when a child suffers in silence?” You ask back. “Plus, it takes one to know one.”
He nods. “And what should I communicate to these kids?” He asks. “How do I help them?”
“By showing them that there’s something better waiting for them out there.”
“Don’t be naive, Y/N. How is what we do better than what they’re going through right now?”
“It’s not about the military, Simon.” You elaborate. “It’s about giving them another chance. They deserve to know there are options other than turning into their drug-addicted mother or alcoholic father.” You lean forward so he can meet your gaze. “Someone gave you a second chance, right?”
He closes his eyes and ponders your words. You tilt your head at him, trying to predict what he’ll say next so you can respond quickly.
But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he straightens up and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he begins, “I gave one of those speeches to a school a few years ago.”
“Oh!” You cheer and pat him on the back twice. “Did you, now?”
“Lysychansk, Ukraine.” He recalls, “I was being held hostage with a bunch of kids.”
“Tell me more about it,” you say, sitting on the principal’s desk and playing with a pink highlighter. He begins narrating his story, and you can tell he’s becoming more confident as he realises he’s spoken to children before, albeit in a very different context, but who cares? What matters is that he is becoming more at ease with his “previous experience.”
You, in turn, try to give him your full attention, but now that his doubts have subsided, your primary concern is that mask of his. He needs to take it off.
“See? You’re far more experienced than any of us!” you shout. “And in that setting? My god! None of us would have been able to do such a thing!”
He chuckles and looks proudly out the window at the children playing in the school’s playground. He seems to be looking forward to it now.
“Hey, um, sir?”
He shifts his focus to you.
“Your mask, sir; It’s dirty,” you say as you point to his cheek.
He puts his hands on his mask. “Where?” He yells.
“It’s right….” You get up from the desk and take a step closer to him, inspecting his mask. You raise the marker and draw a bright pink line across his cheek, “...there.”
He immediately places his hand on his cheek, looks at the highlighter in your hand, and then back at you.
“You... motherfucker...” he murmurs.
You move away from him and stand behind the desk.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go out with that mask on; the parents will be furious.” You point to the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. “You do, however, have two other options! Take your pick, and I’ll see you in class in 5 minutes!” And with that, you rush out of the principal’s office and into the school’s corridor.
You enter the classroom and greet the kids with a smile, trying to hide your nervousness. Walking towards the back where the parents are seated, your mind starts racing; Is he trying to choose a mask, or is he cleaning up your mess? What if he’s so furious that he doesn’t show up, leaving you to give the speech? Worse, what if he enters the classroom and takes his anger out on you?
But, the door opens, and Ghost walks in. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. He’s not wearing any mask. Not the black one, not the green one, not the skull—with the pink streak—mask on. Nothing.
You observe him moving around; despite his lack of disguise, he maintains his composure. He greets everyone in the room, smiles, waves back at the kids and stands next to the teacher. You let out a relieved exhale through pierced lips. This is going well, thank god.
As the teacher introduces Ghost to the class, you turn to give him a thumbs up, and his eyes lock with yours. There’s a faint smirk playing on his lips, and your heart skips a beat as he silently mouths something in your direction: “You’ll pay for this.”
———————————————————————
A/N: YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, ANON! I was forcing myself to take a break from writing, only to be slapped by an inspiration wave. Hope you liked it, though; I had fun making it.
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charliemwrites · 4 months
Text
Mafia au with Price perspective
Content: Implied Violence
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John, for the life of him, can’t believe he ever ran SpecGru without you.
It’s a hit to his pride to admit it, certainly. That an outsider has discovered a small conspiracy within his own organization less than three months into employment. That, apart from even that, he’s never been less scattered, having someone right by his side remembering details, appointments, bits of information.
Morning smells like Earl Grey and your perfume now. Steam mixing with whatever you’ve spritzed for the day, his own little aroma therapy. Revitalizing after however late the previous night dragged him out.
In general, you’re like a breath of fresh air. A smiley little charm of color and delicacy in his world of saturated shadows, blood and brutality.
Clean-cut dresses with patterned tights, soft-knit scarves. Lace accents and modest stilettos. Thin, sparkly jewelry and smart makeup. The scent of you drowns out the lingering burn of gunpowder; or maybe just transforms it into something heady.
John lingers on your hair. Smooth ponytails, tight coifs, intricate braids. Likes when it’s loose enough to brush you shoulders and neck, a little bounce to it as you toddle in and out of his office.
You’re gorgeous, he knows it like a gun in his hand or the stench of fear in the air. Has encountered (and indulged) in more than his share of stunning women. Women with beautiful smiles, and bright laughter, and sweet voices. Cunning women, too. Women who could outfox all but his best on any given day.
You have all of that in spades, though you’re not the first.
The difference, he thinks, is your sincerity. You’re never anything but honest with him. Even when you maybe shouldn’t be. Not that you share your opinion every time you have one, but if he asks for it, you’ll answer without pulling punches.
Respectful, always. Polite. But scalpels are elegant tools as dangerous as any dagger. You’re not cold by any means, but you’re made of steel. Precise and implacable in some ways. Have never hesitated too look him in the eye and cheerfully explain why he’s wrong.
That, he knows, is a rare commodity.
“I understand this is time sensitive Mister Graves, but raising your voice is not going to open Mister Price’s schedule.”
Your voice goes silky when you get like this. A finely draped, overly pleasant “no” in each word. A wall is still a wall no matter how finely it’s painted.
You’ve just gotten your nails done again, glossy wine red tap-tap-tapping over your customized keyboard. Whatever Philip is saying on the other end does not seem to be impressing you. Soap and Gaz are trying not to snicker. You shoot them an amused look.
“Well, he’s booked every morning for the next two weeks,” you continue.
John is not, in fact, booked every morning for the next two weeks. There are two mornings with two hours open and you’re serenely looking at them on your computer screen. He doesn’t correct you, interested to see how this plays out. You know he hates Philip and are gleefully taking advantage of that fact.
“Well, Mister Graves, a lot of people have time sensitive issues to bring to Mister Price,” you explain, a touch condescending now. “I’m afraid I can’t reschedule them just because you have… a trip to Glasgow, is it?”
You don’t sound impressed. Neither is John. You clear your throat, arch your eyebrows at him. Put up three fingers. He nods.
“I can schedule you in on the 3rd in the evening. Your assistant said you’ll be back by then.”
You blink, an almost smug curve to your lips at whatever is said. A pleasant shiver runs down John’s spine. Philip will just have gotten in then - a full day of travel after whatever business he’s been up to will put him at a disadvantage.
“Well, I’m afraid Mister Price’s next availability won’t be until the… 8th. So shall we schedule something for the 3rd? I can always call if he has a cancellation.”
A pause. Your eyes narrow into a mean little smile at nothing in particular. Practically glowing with satisfaction. Without your attention on him, he shifts a bit.
“Of course, Mister Graves,” you hum. “I can forward your people the details. Have a lovely day now.”
Soap and Gaz start laughing the moment you hand up. You huff at them in amusement, shaking your head, then turn to John.
“Was there anything you needed, sir?” You ask, syrupy sweet.
John snorts and finally approaches your desk, leaning his hip against the edge as he crosses his arms. You tilt your head to give him your full attention, a stray curl falling against your jaw.
“Since you seem to be on rampage,” he says, “I need you to get a reservation for Friday at Muse.”
You blink at him. “Muse? Sir, that’s… don’t they book that place out months in advance?”
He smirks. “Just use my name, luv. I’m sure you’ll have the rest under control.”
You don’t look convinced, but you slide your sticky pad over - light purple clouds, now. With a pink glitter pen.
“How many and what time, sir?”
“Six for eight o’clock.”
You hum as you scrawl it down, pretty round letters that shimmer under the office lights.
“Before you go,” you say as you set the sticky pad aside. “I have those inventory logs from the docks - as well as the incident report from security that evening.”
You pluck up a neat stack of papers, held together by a star-shaped paperclip. Already he can see pink highlighter on the first page, a little memo-note summarizing information for quick review at the top. Somewhere within, you’ve attached a pink tab to something.
“I’ve highlighted anything in the original shipment that wasn’t found in the inventory log,” you explain, tapping at one of them.
He hums, skims the summary, then starts rifling through the papers. Will never admit how much he appreciates the thoroughness, even if he’s comb through every detail himself just to be sure nothing has been missed.
“Oh, also,” you add, spinning the glitter pen between clever fingers, “I think we should maybe set up a camera near that back entrance to the warehouse.”
He pauses. The back entrance where they do the more gruesome aspects of “business.” Odd that you would suggest that.
“Why’s that?”
You hum. “Well, I’m no narc, but I heard from someone who works over there that one of the shipping guys smokes weed with his cousin in that area. Maybe someone saw them and realized that’s a good way in.”
You shrug, leaning back in your seat again. The computer dings, calling your attention. John shoots Soap a glance, who nods and quietly steps out. You don’t seem to notice, clicking your tongue at whatever you see.
“Nicely done, luv,” he says, voice warm in his chest. You beam at him, pleased as always when he recognizes your hard work. “I’ll call if I need anything else.”
“Yes, sir,” you reply.
Twenty minutes later, you tap lightly at the open door to his office.
“Got the reservation!” You announce, a funny little smile on your face. “They were so nice about it too. What are you, some kind of mafia boss?”
He chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.
How did he ever manage all this without you?
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palioom · 4 months
Text
little dove
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summary: your first attendance of a huge feast is bothersome, alone and inexperienced as you are. until the eyes of a certain prince won't stop following you.
pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader
word count: 4.5k
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; virginity/innocence kink; implied age gap (oberyn is in his early 40s, reader early 20s); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some biting
a/n: another fic from last summer, hope you enjoy! ; headers & dividers by @/saradika-graphics
follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates
• masterlist •
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Oberyn had been watching her all night already, his dark eyes following the shape of her wherever she went. Between the bustle of the people, her bright orange glowing dress like the sun, rising and settling as she appeared and disappeared, standing around like she didn’t know what to do with herself.
It was adorable, a smirk gracing his features as he watched her wring her hands, smiling sheepishly when someone approached her. 
So innocent.
He could see the nervousness on her face from where he sat, the uncertainty, clearly not used to people approaching her.
He could see the heavy rise and fall of her chest, exposed by the deep cut of her garments.
Taking another sip of his wine, Oberyn stood, deciding now was his time.
The festivities had been going on for a while, and even though he had planned on celebrating with a group of people in his bedchambers later, she had thrown those plans into the wind the second he set sight on her.
Something just intrigued him, maybe it was the innocence she seemed to harbour, maybe it was her beauty.
Whatever it was, he had to know more, waiving away another woman that approached him with a polite smile, then walking over to the mysterious woman.
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She looked around nervously, playing with the rings on her hands as people passed by her, some stopping to talk to her.
Feeling incredibly out of place at this feast, her first big one, she didn't quite know what to do. Her parents were somewhere, as were her siblings.
The lords trying to speak to her made her feel uneasy, knowing she was supposed to find a possible suitor at some point, but wanting nothing more than to flee this place.
In fact, she was thinking about just leaving, when she was approached again.
Tall, dark haired and handsome. The Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell.
She had seen him at his table, stealing a glance every once in a while and looking away when his dark eyes caught hers.
And now he stood in front of her, flashing her a wide smile.
“My Prince.” She said, curtsying as well as she could, perhaps a little clumsily. 
Out of everything she had expected to happen today, she did not expect for him to approach her.
“Do you intend to sulk in the shadows all night, my dove?”
She blinked up at him, once again playing with the rings on her fingers.
“I have not been sulking.” A frown graced her face, a slight tremble in her voice. His presence was intimidating, but different from the other people who had approached her. “I have been observing.”
Oberyn chuckled, taking a small step closer to her, watching her step back just a little in return. So close to her, he could practically feel the nervosity radiating off of her, trying to hold eye contact before they moved away again, looking at anything but him.
“Observing by turning down all lords and ladies who approach you?” He said, watching her fingers stop for just a moment, as if she had been caught, before fiddling with her rings again. “I must admit, I have been watching you for a while - you are the only lady not dancing, not talking to anyone. Just standing in your corner, sometimes moving to follow the servants for a drink or something to eat.”
She stayed quiet. Had she been that noticeable? Just by standing around, hoping for a saving grace?
“I assume this to be your first attendance at a feast this big, am I correct, my dove?”
That nickname.
It made her feel warm, a different kind of warmth than the Dornish weather. Running through her in an unfamiliar fashion, her veins like molten metal, a strange feeling moving up her spine..
“Yes, my Prince.” She said, nodding, but not looking at him.
Oberyn noticed how she became more nervous, smirking at the display in front of him.
“My parents have kept me from them for long, I was only ever allowed to attend small ones.” She continued, sighing. “It is quite overwhelming. I am inexperienced in these kinds of things.”
Her words made him inhale sharply through his nose, still smiling.
If she was inexperienced in this, what else was she inexperienced in?
He had wanted her before, but now the desire for her burned even brighter. Oberyn wanted to show her the things her parents have undoubtedly sheltered her from.
To keep their daughter pure for a potential suitor.
“I understand, my dove. Would you perhaps allow me to accompany you to a place more quiet?”
Usually, he did not beat around the bush when it came to a potential partner for the night.
But it was different with her. If he was blunt he would simply chase her away.
She didn’t look at him, thinking about his question.
All the other men and women that had asked before had made her feel uneasy. Unsure why they wanted to whisk her away, promising a better night someplace else.
But the Prince of Dorne? He made her feel different. A heat and a pressure in her abdomen that she never felt before.
She knew of the rumours, that he took many partners, for whatever they did. Yet, as he stood in front of her, charming smile and good looks, she felt herself drawn to him.
Oberyn reached out, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “I asked you a question, my dove.”
His fingers on her chin made her still, just looking up at him with her big eyes, lips slightly parted. The touch made that pressure worse, breath hitching in her throat.
“My Prince, I’m-” She stumbled over her words, unsure what to answer.
He just chuckled, a sigh leaving him. “You are quite easily flustered, my dove. Come with me, please.”
Holding out his arm for her to take, he hoped she would. Such an innocent, pretty thing. There was something so endearing about the way she was behaving.
She swallowed hard, looking from his face to his arm, hesitating for a moment. Something drew her to him, and after another moment, she hooked her arm into his with a nervous smile.
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Oberyn walked her away from the feast, the noises dying down behind them as they walked the long corridors.
“What did the other lords and ladies ask of you, my dove?” 
She sighed, glad to be away from the bustle in the halls, but feeling uncertain now, a throbbing at the apex of her thighs distracting her.
“They wished to take me away for some fun. I’m unsure what they meant exactly.” She didn’t look at him, too nervous to meet his dark, piercing eyes. 
It was intimidating, she had never been in the presence of a man other than her father or her brothers alone. She knew how to behave, for the most part, but nonetheless was it a little scary.
Oberyn smirked, looking down to her, seeing how she only stared at the floor or ahead of them. 
“You did not know what they were implying?” He asked, a bit amused but genuinely curious. “My little dove, you must be younger than I thought or your parents simply were too careless with your education.”
She remained quiet, her cheeks growing hot. 
A sense of shame washed over her, that he thought she was too young. It was as if her friends were with her, giggling and whispering because of something she didn’t understand.
And when she asked, they never explained, finding it too amusing to laugh and belittle her.
There was something she was missing out on, and she hated not knowing what.
“My dove, you do not have to be ashamed.” He said, his other hand coming to gently rest on hers. “If you wish, I could show you.”
He had been right about the assumptions of her being a virgin, too innocent for her own good.
Walking next to her, he felt something else besides the desire for her, a need to protect.
As if he was the only one allowed to show her, that anyone else would simply take advantage of this fact.
Now her eyes met his, brows furrowed. 
“Show me?” She echoed his words. “How? What exactly?”
Oberyn just smiled, eyes leaving hers to look at the guards standing by the door of his chambers.
He stopped, not too far away from the door, looking back at her.
“Do you wish for me to show you, my dove?” He asked, brushing back a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “If not, I understand.”
She should be wary. Despite him being the Prince of Dorne, she should think about this. But she was curious, so curious about what this thing was that she had been missing out on.
And there was still that feeling inside of her.
“Yes, my Prince.” She said with a small nod. “I am curious, please.”
He chuckled, his knuckles brushing over her cheek. “Please, call me Oberyn, my dove.”
Moving along, the guards allowed them to enter, the heavy door falling shut behind them. Oberyn let go of her arm, walking over to a table to pour himself some wine, then offering her a cup.
She took it with a small nod, taking in his quarters. They were richly decorated, the bed massive.
Just how she would imagine it, if she had ever spent time on that before meeting him.
Taking a sip of her wine, Oberyn laid a hand on her waist with a gentle smile, pulling her closer to him.
“Most people stare when they first come here.” He said, his hand wandering up and down her side. “Don’t be nervous, little dove.”
She nodded, swallowing hard. That was easier said than done, the heat inside her becoming unbearable at this point.
His hand on her side felt like it was burning her, even through the thin fabric of her gown. Like it was hot coals placed on her.
“Have you ever been kissed, my dove?” He asked suddenly, eyes searching hers. Pulling her just a little closer to him.
She shook her head no, slowly. Heart beating in her throat, he was so close to her. 
She could feel the warmth of him, twirling the cup of wine in her hand.
“Would you allow me to?”
There was some hesitation inside her, her hands stilling. Should she allow him to? She wanted to, somehow.
Often had she imagined what it felt like, kissing someone.
Her answer came in the form of a nod, her head barely moving.
Oberyn smiled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.
“Oh, my little dove.”
Despite his growing desire, he moved gently, bending down to place his lips onto hers. The small gasp that left her made him chuckle, his other hand coming to rest on her hip and pull her hips flush against his.
She stiffened beneath his touch, liking the way his lips felt on hers, surprisingly soft, while his beard and moustache tickled her skin. Holding onto her cup tightly, she closed her eyes, humming when he deepened the kiss and she tried to match his movements, clumsy and inexperienced.
When he parted from her, she chased after him, opening her eyes when she couldn’t. Oberyn laughed at that, staying close to her, his thumb brushing over her cheek.
She looked adorable, the way she greedily breathed in air, lips slightly parted. Still too nervous, too stiff.
“What do you think, my dove?” He asked, leaning closer again so their noses were almost touching. “Would you like for me to show you more? There is quite an array of things I could assist you with.”
His fingers curled into her hip, and when she nodded, he only smiled wider.
“I promise to be gentle, my dove. A beauty such as you needs to be handled with care.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but it didn’t matter, because as soon as he kissed her again, more eager this time, her mind went blank.
His hand briefly left her hip to take the cup from her hands, placing it on the table next to them, before it was back, pulling her against his chest and making her gasp.
Letting his tongue glide against hers at the opportunity, Oberyn heard her muffled moan, relishing in the sweet sound.
The way she tried to kiss him back was delightful, so tender and new, trying to keep up with him.
Slowly he manoeuvred her back towards the bed, having to hold onto her waist as her steps became unsure, stumbling backwards once, her cheeks glowing even hotter.
The throbbing only became more intense, and when they reached the bed and he gently pushed her to sit at the foot of it, she squeezed her thighs together, looking for relief.
There was a wetness now that felt foreign to her.
Oberyn noticed, amused at the display.
“Are you aching, my dove?” He asked, his hands coming to the belt tied around his waist.
Aching.
It did hurt, but in a different way. Not like a bruise or a cut.
She nodded. “A little. My Prince- Oberyn, what- I don’t understand what is happening.”
Poor thing. Her parents had done a horrible job to prepare their daughter.
To leave her in the dark at such an age.
She watched him undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor before motioning for her to move further back to the middle of the bed.
“You’re aroused, my dove. You feel the need for cock.” He explained, shedding his robe, then crawling over her. “Have you seen a cock before, little dove?”
Her mouth went dry as she watched him undress, now only clad in a dark orange tunic and his breeches. 
Aroused.
Of course. But was she really aroused by him? In need of his cock?
She nodded, and she could see a flash of surprise grace his features. 
“In the bathhouses, yes.” She tried to hold his gaze, now hovering over her and letting his hand glide down her side. “From afar.”
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, then her neck, hearing the breathy moan spill from her lips, feeling her back arch slightly.
“In the bathhouses…” He repeated in a whisper, still some amusement in his voice. “Yet you don’t know a thing about this… about desire and fucking.”
The word felt vulgar, so close to her ear.
And she felt embarrassed again. That she didn’t know more, that she didn’t understand she was aroused just by him being near her, by him kissing her, by him hovering over her.
“Do you want me to show you, my dove? The thrill of desire?” He asked, still mouthing along her neck, gently, just feeling her as she squirmed, her own hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “How to fuck?”
Her breath hitched in her throat when he sucked at the junction of her neck and shoulder, a throaty moan leaving her.
“I- I do not know, Oberyn.” She stammered, fingers digging into his shoulders. The throbbing and the pressure were distracting her, just needing relief. “It hurts, it really hurts.”
His hand moved lower, down her side and to her thigh, gathering her skirts before it dipped below them.
“I can help you, my dove.” His hand wandered between her thighs, finding her dripping already, a soft sound escaping him at the feeling. “Oh, my dove. Wet and gushing like a waterfall and I have barely touched you.”
He sounded pitying almost, his fingers slipping between her folds, raising his head to watch her face when he found her clit.
A hiss left her, looking at him with wide eyes at the foreign feeling. It felt good, strange but good.
“Have you never touched yourself before? Brought yourself to the peak of pleasure?” He asked, drawing slow circles into her clit, with featherlight touches. 
She shook her head, trying to keep her eyes open, her legs opening further.
“Never, I didn’t know-”
“You poor thing.” He cooed, kissing her. 
When his fingers left her again, she whined in protest, one of her hands reaching out to grab his wrist. 
She didn’t even really know what was happening, simply that his touch felt good and that she wanted more.
Needed more.
The burning sensation inside her was so consuming and overwhelming while also hurting her.
“Oberyn, please, continue.” She said, guiding his hand back down but he escaped her grasp. 
“Do you know anything about this, my dove? About fucking, the feeling of something stretching you open? Feeling somebody’s naked skin against yours?”
Stretching her open? It sounded painful, she couldn’t imagine how anything could do that, and where.
But she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to embarrass herself further.
She shook her head again. “No, I don’t.”
He chuckled, his hand coming up to tug one of the straps of her gown down her shoulder, then further down her arm, exposing her breast.
“My little dove, so innocent, so pure.” A sigh left him, watching her face as he touched her breast, just lightly brushing over the hardened nipple. Nothing could have prepared him for just how much her innocence spurred him on. “I will take care of you, just allow me to do so.”
“Please, please, Oberyn.” She whined, desperate. His hand felt good on her, back arching off the bed and into his touch, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes.
This was what she had missed out on, something so good and intense. If only he could touch her again.
Slowly Oberyn undressed her, slipping the garment down her body and kissing each inch of newly uncovered skin. Taking in how she whined and moaned, took in a sharp breath or hissed at the sensation.
She felt exposed, once he sat back and pulled the gown down her legs, his dark eyes raking over her naked form as she laid before him, resisting the urge to cover herself.
So sweet and pure. And he would be the one to ruin her, to taint her beautiful body.
Thank the Gods it was him and not someone else.
“So pretty.” He said, a hand gliding up and down her thigh, the other working open his tunic. “My little dove, all for me to enjoy. I shall show you the heights of pleasure.”
She watched as he shed the garment, exposing his toned torso, the muscles under his skin moving. She was mesmerized, despite having seen this so many times at the bathhouses, when she came to find her siblings or her parents.
His hands moved down to his breeches, opening them just as slowly as he had done with the rest of his clothing.
“It seems as if my little dove has found something she likes.” He chuckled, shedding the last piece of clothing, kneeling between her spread legs, just as exposed as she was.
Cock heavy and throbbing, her eyes were fixed on it.
It was bigger than what she had seen before. But she didn’t know if she should mind that.
“Don’t be scared, my dove.” Oberyn said, moving to hover over her again, one hand on her thigh, his cock brushing against her stomach. “I’ll prepare you to take me.”
“Take me?” She asked, gasping when his hand found that sweet spot again, applying more pressure this time and leaving her breathless.
He hummed against her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin, taking in her sweet sounds.
So adorable, needing to be taught. Not knowing what pleasures awaited her.
His hand moved lower and he felt how she stiffened when one finger pressed against her hole.
“Don’t be scared…” He repeated, slowly pushing a single digit in, groaning when he felt her squeeze around him, her nails digging into his shoulders with a whine.
It felt strange, his thick finger inside of her, moving in and out slowly. Yet it also felt good, her hips rolling on their own, legs opening wider.
“Oberyn-” She moaned, voice breaking, the pressure inside her easing just a little. 
His mouth found hers again, continuing to move his finger slowly, his cock twitching at the thought of burying himself inside her soon.
“Tell me how it feels, little dove. You might be ready for another finger soon.”
She whined, concentrating on the foreign feeling, the stretch when he pushed a second finger in.
“It feels good, my Prince- Oberyn.” She breathed, her mind feeling as if it was floating on a cloud, hissing when he scissored his fingers inside of her. “It hurts a little, but it feels good.”
He chuckled, kissing her cheek and down to her jaw, then down her neck again.
“My dove, you feel splendid, gripping my fingers so tight with your sweet cunt.”
Something inside her built, blood hot like molten metal as it rushed through her, building her higher and higher until he took his fingers from her again.
A noise of protest died in her throat, his teeth softly sinking into her shoulder.
He grinned at that, lifting his head to look at her, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a deep hum.
“Finer than any wine.” Oberyn said, positioning himself so his cock was lined up with her. “My dove, I promise to be gentle. It may sting nonetheless.”
She nodded, drowsy and wanting nothing more than this ache to end. He said his cock would help, and so she wished for nothing more than him to enter her where his fingers just had been.
“Please, help me relieve this ache.” She said, feeling him against her, so much thicker than his fingers.
Oberyn watched as he entered her, grunting at how tight she still was, seeing her eyes squeeze shut and take a sharp breath.
It stung, he hadn’t lied about that, his lips finding hers as he pushed in further, muffling her whimpers while he buried inch after inch inside of her.
All the way until he was fully sheathed inside of her, hips flush against hers, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing it gently.
“It hurts, Oberyn.” She breathed when he broke from her, looking back at him, his lips on her cheek again.
“I know, my dove. You will feel better soon, don’t you worry.”
It was so new, the sensation of being filled, of him inside of her and stretching her out just as he had said.
Overwhelming, someone being so close to her, inside of her, his hot skin against hers, his soft lips on her cheeks.
The pain slowly fading into a need, the throbbing returning, as did the pressure.
Her hips moving on their own, making him chuckle, the sound vibrating against her chest. 
“Are you sure you wish to continue already, my dove?” He asked, kissing a spot just below her ear that sent a shiver through her. “I cannot stop myself if we do, your cunt is simply too tight and inviting.”
She nodded, whispering a silent please.
So he slowly pulled back, setting a lazy rhythm of shallow thrusts, her dragged out moans like music to his ears, a little symphony written just for him as he drove back into her over and over again.
“You feel perfect, my dove, what an honour to teach you about the pleasures of the flesh.” Oberyn groaned, his hands grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his hips, making her whimper loudly. “You won’t find a nicer cunt than that of this little virgin dove.”
She let him move, rolling her hips, trying to meet his thrusts, that something inside her building again, becoming stronger this time.
If this really was what she had been missing out on, what she had been ridiculed for, she never wanted it to stop now that she had it.
The feeling pleasant as the ache became less and less present.
Oberyn had to hold back to not just drive into her with his entire force, losing himself in how good she felt, but still wanting this to be something good for her, as much as he desired her.
Already knowing he would seek her out again and again, her innocence far from gone, her sounds so sweet in his ears, her hands so soft as they grabbed at him, trying to find purchase on his body.
“My dove, you are close, I can feel you.” He rasped, his movements becoming sloppier, lips dancing over her skin. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“Close to what?” She asked, words catching on her breath, feeling something but unsure if it was what he meant.
Gods, she was so adorable.
“Oh, you will see, my dove.”
His hand moved between them, finding her clit.
And with just a few movements, something snapped inside of her so suddenly and with such force that all breath left her, a strangled noise catching in her chest as her veins burned, the pressure in her abdomen released. 
She was trembling, holding him against her tightly as he kept moving, thrusts harsher now.
“There you are, my little dove, isn’t that wonderful? The heights, the peak?”
It was a pretty sight, her face contorted in bliss and pleasure but also so shocked by what was happening to her, by these new feelings.
She could only whine, falling silent when she heard him grunt deeply into her ear, stilling above her.
Spilling himself deep inside of her before rolling off of her, not separating but rolling her with him so she came to rest on top of him.
She felt exhausted suddenly, the euphoric feelings still coursing through her veins.
And he felt solid beneath her body, catching his breath just as she did, his hands carding through her hair.
“Now, my dove, how do you feel?” He asked, watching her face as she rested on him. “Are you satisfied?”
If anyone had told her just a few hours ago that she would land in the bed of the Prince of Dorne, she would have laughed at them.
But now, it seemed quite nice.
She nodded. “I feel exhausted, but I am very grateful for what you showed me.”
A smile stretched her lips wide, he liked it. She seemed to be less nervous.
He chuckled, one hand wandering down to smooth over her back. Normally he would be far from done, already planning another round of pleasure.
But she truly seemed too exhausted by this. After all, she hadn’t even known about any of this until now.
Her eyes drifted shut, but she was still awake, listening to his heartbeat.
“Oh, my dove.” He said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “There is so much more to show you, I am far from done with you.”
She felt warm at the idea, curious what else there was to discover. Her eyes felt too heavy to open them again, slowly drifting off into sleep on top of him.
Oberyn simply smiled, sighing deeply.
Yes, he was far from done. 
There was so much to learn, so much to discover.
And he couldn’t wait to see her face once he began to truly teach his little dove.
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