#there were too many looks many looks to choose from

[wheresarizona]

but now I’m your daisy

summary: It’s a random Thursday in the middle of spring, and Joel has a surprise for you—a surprise that’s an hour away from Jackson on horseback, that he insists on blindfolding you for.

pairing: Joel Miller/gn!reader (reader has smaller hands than Joel)

rating: T (No y/n, AGE GAP (unspecified, reader is an adult), Grumpy Joel Miller, a lil Possessive Joel Miller, FLUFF, it’s so fluffy, established relationship, kissing, purposely annoying Joel until he snaps at you, Joel being secretly romantic, MARRIAGE PROPOSAL (it’s so cute), cussing, did I mention fluff? Joel being so in love, Joel being the best dad to Ellie)

word count: 2.5k+

a/n: This can be read as a standalone or in the same universe as ‘but I would die for you in secret.’ An anon requested a ‘fluffy cute fic with an age gap (No smut)’ for Joel, and this extremely cute idea came to me that I wrote in one night. Shoutout to @littlemisspascal who loved the snippets I sent her, and thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

but I would die for you in secret - Masterlist

“Are we there yet?” you ask for the thirteenth time in the span of an hour.

It’s the perfect spring day with the temperature outside not too hot and not too cold, the air feeling a little crisp when it fills your nose. The sun’s warmth is hitting your back, and you’re sure that if you could see the sky, it’d be a beautiful, clear, cerulean blue—you can’t see, though, not with the bandana over your eyes as you sit astride a horse, Joel on his own next to you holding his reins and yours to lead you.

His sigh is long and loud, and you can picture perfectly without having to look at his annoyed expression.

“No,” he growls. “The same damn answer as the last dozen or so times you asked.”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me—you haven’t spent an hour literally in the dark with no idea where the hell you’re going.”

“And I’ve told you it’s a surprise,” he rumbles.

“Well, are we close to this surprise?”

He sighs again, and you just know he’s got the fingers of his free hand pressed to his brow. “I swear, you’re just as bad as Ellie—neither of you seems to understand what a fuckin’ surprise is.” He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “Now,” he says calmly, “I don’t know why you’re purposely pushin’ my buttons—”

“You ate the last of the ice cream last night,” you interrupt. “The ice cream I worked hard to make that I was excited to eat as a late-night snack.”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me—how many times do I have to apologize? I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were savin’ it, and had I known, I wouldn’t have eaten it. Will you please forgive me?”

“Did I annoy you enough that the thought crossed your mind to take us back home?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t because you love me so much you’ll put up with my shit?”

“Yes.”

“Then I forgive you. Can I ask a question that has nothing to do with the distance we are from the surprise?”

He lets out a relieved breath, and his tone softens. “Of course, honey.”

Without fail, every time he calls you a sweet endearment, you melt a little, feeling so soft you might turn into a puddle.

You’re smiling. “What made you choose today to surprise me? It’s kinda random that it’s a Thursday, and you didn’t wait for the weekend when we’re usually off.” You taught at the school, and Joel did whatever he was assigned each day; lately, it’s been a lot of patrolling.

“Do you know what today’s date is?”

The question makes you think because you do know the date, and it’s not your, his, or Ellie’s birthday; it’s not a holiday that you’re aware of, either, and frankly, you’re not quite sure what the significance is.

“I do, but what’s so special about it?”

“What were you doin’ last year around this time?”

“Um, what was I doing? Wait, it’s around when I moved to Jackson.”

“That’s right, and who’d you meet a little after you arrived?”

“A lot of people.”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes in exasperation. “Baby, when did you meet me?”

“Like two, three days after I moved into the house across the street from you.”

“And what happened when we met?”

The memory makes you smirk. “I seduced you—my sexy, way older, single dad neighbor.”

“That’s true—I was gone on you from the moment you batted those pretty eyes at me, and who were you romantically involved with from that day forward?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You.”

“Was there anyone else?” It’s a harmless question he knows the answer to and is honestly humorous even to be asked.

You snort. “Why would I have wanted to be with anyone else when I had you? No, of course not, and you were very clear that I was yours and only yours, even if nobody else knew for quite some time.”

Your relationship with him was a secret for many months because he didn’t want Ellie to know—he was worried she wouldn’t take it well, but she ended up being completely fine with it and had figured out the two of you were a thing, pretty much from the beginning.

“So, it’s a year from the day you became mine,” he says, “why would I be takin’ you somewhere special?”

The realization slams into so hard you gasp.

“Are we celebrating the anniversary of when we first met?!”

It’s clear in his voice he’s smiling. “We are—I know we did things ass-backward, and I wish I could’ve courted you properly from the beginnin’, but I consider that first time we met as the start of our unconventional relationship.”

Warmth is spreading through your body at how sweet this is.

“Oh my god, Joel—if I could, I’d kiss you right now!”

“Well, you’re in luck, my love, ‘cause we’re finally here.” Your horse comes to a stop, the animal snorting as its front hooves shuffle in place. “You can look.”

You lower the bandana, and your eyes widen at what’s in front of you: it’s a meadow of colorful wildflowers—the lush green grass overshadowed by the yellows, pinks, purples, whites, and blues blooming thickly everywhere, tall pine trees lining the edges, and snow-capped mountains towering high off in the distance.

You’ve never seen anything so beautiful, and it takes your breath away.

There’s movement out of the corner of your eye of Joel getting off his horse, and you’re too focused on taking in all of the scenery, seeing butterflies fluttering around and birds gliding through the air.

“Well?” he asks, and you jolt at his voice coming from the opposite side of where he was initially. “Sorry for spookin’ ya, baby.” He rubs a hand along your jean-covered thigh, and your head tilts down his way. Joel’s eyes look hopeful, and a small smile is on his lips—he’s wearing a red flannel and has a rifle on his back, the light breeze causing some of his gray strands of hair to dance atop his head. “What do you think?” he asks.

Your answer is to get off the horse, Joel’s hands immediately grabbing onto your waist to steady you as you swing your leg over the back of the animal, one foot landing on the ground, then the other—you spin around, throwing your arms around his neck, and crush your lips to his, swallowing his surprised sound. He’s automatically hugging you to him, and you never feel safer than when he holds you, knowing without a doubt he won’t let anything happen to you and will protect you with everything he has; you’d do the same for him and Ellie, the two most important people in your life.

When you break apart, your breaths come out a little heavier, and with the way he’s gazing into your eyes, you can clearly see his love for you shining through.

His hand caresses your cheek. “A good surprise?” he asks.

Your mouth is grinning as you nod. “The best surprise and worth an hour in the dark.” You hold his face as you lean in, placing loud, smacking kisses over his stubbled cheeks, along his jaw, on his chin, and lips. Joel chuckles at your enthusiasm, and you end with a peck to the tip of his nose.

“There’s more,” he says.

Your eyes go big. “What do you mean there’s more?”

“Let me tie up the horses, and I’ll show you.”

He moves away to do as he said, using ropes to tie around each of their two front legs to hobble them and keep them in place, allowing them to graze.

Joel isn’t kidding about there being more: he removes a blanket roll from his saddle that he spreads out on a patch of grass, and from his backpack, he takes out containers with strawberries, apples, cheese, some smoked meat and to drink, a bottle of apple juice made in Jackson.

He sits on the blanket, his long legs out in front of him, the food on one side of him, his rifle, and your shotgun that’d been holstered in a scabbard attached to your saddle within reach on the ground. He makes you giggle as he pulls you down into his lap, sitting sideways across it, his arms wrapping around your middle, while your hands go into the hair at the back of his head, his eyes locked on yours.

Something hard is poking you in the ass. “Is that a flashlight in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” you ask with a wag of your eyebrows.

Joel huffs out an amused breath as he gets his hand under you and pulls his sheathed hunting knife off of his belt, tossing it next to the rifle and shotgun.

“Better?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek. “Much better—thank you.” You stare at his handsome face and brush his messy bangs off his forehead—Joel grabs your hand, keeping his gaze on yours as he kisses the skin on the inside of your wrist, leaving behind tingles where his lips touch.

“If Ellie knew how secretly romantic you are,” you say, “she’d give you even more shit than she already does.”

His eyes roll, and he holds your smaller hand in his bigger one, pressing it to his heart.

“Wanna know a secret?” he asks.

“Always.”

“She avoids teasin’ me about our relationship and how I am with you—I mean, if she sees us kiss, she’ll pretend to get sick, but that’s just how teenagers are.” He shrugs. “She slips up every once in a while, and that’s expected; I think her tryin’ her best not to shit on my happiness is her sweet way of bein’ supportive.” He’s smiling fondly. “She’s the one who suggested a picnic.”

Your face matches his. “You discussed your secret anniversary plans with her?”

“Yes.” He nods. “'cause Tommy’s idea of celebratin’ was stayin’ in bed all day naked, and it made me wonder for the millionth time why the fuck Maria married his ass.”

You laugh. “And that’s pretty much a regular Saturday for us when Ellie stays at Cat’s—” Her girlfriend’s. “—for the weekend.”

He’s got an arm around your back and lets go of your hand, reaching to pluck a dandelion from the grass at the edge of the blanket.

“Exactly,” he says, “needed to do somethin’ special, and I found this place a few weeks ago while on patrol and knew you’d love it.” His eyes squint a little as his attention turns to what’s in front of him.

“I do, I love it so much.” You look around at the flowers, trees, and mountains. “It’s so beautiful!”

“Yeah, it is.” You face him again, finding his gaze already on you.

He does this often, where when you seek him out—be it at the crowded bar on a Friday night, the busy mess hall at breakfast before work, while you’re cuddled on the couch watching a movie—he’s already looking at you before your eyes land on his. It’s like you’re the only thing that exists, and you find it both lovely and insane that he loves you that much.

The other person who steals his attention is Ellie—she’s his whole world, and that’s how it should be; she’s his kid, and if Joel’s one thing, he’s a fantastic father who loves his children more than anything.

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else, Joel Miller,” you tell him, clutching his shirt with your left hand. “I love you, I love your daughter, I love the life we have, and I’m sorry, but you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life—you’re mine, and I’ll fight anyone or anything that tries to take you from me.”

“Yeah?” He takes your hand from his shirt and presses your palms together between you, making your own look so tiny with how much longer and thicker his fingers are. “Well,” he starts, your eyes closing when he leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “you’ve sure ruined me for anyone else, too, and you’re it for me—I love you, I love that you really do care about my kid, and how you make our lives better,” he rasps softly. “No one else can have you ‘cause you belong to me as I belong to you, so I see this only goin’ one way.”

“And where’s that?” you whisper.

His hand leaves yours for a moment.

“With you marryin’ me,” he says and slips something onto your ring finger—your eyes fly open seeing he’s tied the dandelion stem to make a loop your finger can fit through, the vibrant yellow flower a pretty substitute for a real diamond ring that are hard to find these days; this is Joel doing something how it was done when he was younger because, to him, it’s the right way, even though nowadays engagements are simply a verbal agreement rarely accompanied by jewelry. Or this is Joel just being romantically old-fashioned; you love it when he’s romantically old-fashioned.

Your cheeks are hurting from smiling so big, and tears are brimming in your eyes.

“If you’ll have me, of course,” he adds, and you look at him. “I know I’ve been alive a long fuckin’ time and that you can do better than someone as old as me, but I promise I’ll give you my everythin’ and the best life I can because you’re the one I wanna spend whatever time I have left breathin’ with.” The truth is evident in his chocolate-colored gaze, seeing the glimmer of hope in the dark pools. “As long as it’s somethin’ you’d want. It’s fine if you prefer we keep doin’ things as we have been without you takin’ my last name—I’m lucky enough that you like me.”

“Ask me,” you say.

His eyebrows pull together. “Ask you what…?”

“To marry you—in all the sweet things you said, you didn’t ask the question.”

His cheeks pink up, and he scratches the back of his neck. “That’s fuckin’ embarrassin’. Not much of a proposal if you don’t ask the question—sorry—let me try this again.” He clears his throat and takes your hand, being careful of the dandelion ring, his eyes seeming to get bigger. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, and he rewards you with a smile big enough for his very seldom-seen dimple to make an appearance.

Then his large palms are cradling your face, and he’s kissing you like he’s just come home after being away for a while, and can’t believe he’s finally feeling your lips against his once more—he’s savoring every second and being so thorough it makes you go dizzy, your skin heating beneath your clothes.

This is one of those unforgettable kisses that will make you swoon each time it comes to mind in the years to come.

And this man asked you to marry him.

Settling down in Jackson was the best decision you’ve ever made.

but I would die for you in secret - Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

#Pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #Joel miller/you #joel miller x reader #wheresarizona writes

[newluvrs]

1:32 a.m. Anton ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎  mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: JUNO - CHOKER word count: 1.8k

“is this okay?”  

The room is hazy from the glow of your bedside lamp, the smell of weed perforating your room as a result of your shitty roommate hotboxing your apartment last night.  Your hoody is pushed up over your hips at present, everything feels sticky and hot from too much body contact with too many layers of clothing on.  The sheets are kicked down by your feet, your legs at present hanging over Anton’s shoulders.  His lips are all swollen, having spent the last half an hour lip locked with you.  At this point in your relationship(?) neither of you had gone past make outs coupled with grinding and feeling each other up.  When he started to kiss down your body you felt nervous, but your need to be touched screamed louder than any doubt in your brain.  

“Please.”  

You know Anton asked for reassurance more for himself rather than you, his own nerves and excitement getting to him.  It was one of the first things you had noticed about him, and something you adored, how he could be simultaneously awkward and self-assured.  Like he didn’t need validation from anyone, but he so badly wanted yours.  

“please what?”  

Okay now he was just fucking with you.  

“Anton.”

“I was only joking..”  

He flashes you his boyish half-smile, pulling your sweats off as he does so.  His hair is all fucked up from his beanie and the amount of times you’ve ran your hands through it in the last half-hour.  You can only imagine your own hair looking mussed as well.  But none of this matters when he settles between your legs at the end of your bed, face to face with your boy shorts.  He glances at them, then at you, half-amused half extremely turned on.  

“Sorry if you were expecting lace.”  You let out a scoff, trying to hide how vulnerable you feel right now.  Now you really were thinking to yourself maybe you should have dug out your nice underwear, the ones reserved specifically for situations like this.  

When he doesn’t answer, you look away from him, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling.  It’s quiet for what feels like too long to you.  Neither of you making a sound, the only thing playing in the room being your playlist accurately titled “music to kiss boys too.”  You’re starting to feel really fucking awkward, even with the heavy bass of the current song thrumming through your body. 

“Anton-“ 

Your cut off by your own gasp when you feel him lick you through your shorts.  His arms are wrapped around your legs, helping you hold them up.  He bites the inside of your thigh, making you buck your hips towards his face.  

“you’re so pretty, and you don’t even have to do anything.”  

He stares at you now, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.

“you could wear a trashbag and I would still think you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”  

You turn away from him again, a blush taking over you.  You can’t remember the last time you felt shy, it’s always you who makes him feel flustered.   Showering him in compliments endlessly about how cute you think he is.  How hot you think he looks doing simple everyday things.  You liked watching the way he stumbled over his words after, his face turning a pretty shade of pink.  You didn’t ever feel like you needed compliments, or at least you never voiced your need for them.  But now, laying here under him, it’s all you want to hear.  

His fingers dip under your shorts, groaning when he comes into contact with your wet heat.  Your hips shift in his hold, trying to move closer to that single touch.  He giggles at this, pulling his hand from your boxers. 

When you open your mouth to complain he finally gives you what you want, putting his mouth back on your cunt.  The material thin enough for you to feel his tongue prodding at you.  It’s taking you everything to restrain yourself from fucking up into his face.  Especially when he starts sucking on your clit.  Your hips jerk up, your hands balled into fists and coming up to grab at your pillows, resisting the urge to pull his hair.  

“Fuck, Anton please.”  

Your voice is so whiney, a breathless edge to it.  He pulls off of you briefly, bringing one of his hands to thumb at your clit as he speaks.  

“What is it baby?”  

When you look back down at him, you realize his hoody is also still on, making this whole thing look hotter but also making you wonder why you’re the only one half-naked.  

“I- fuck, please.”

He’s still rubbing at your clit, making it hard for you to talk, upping the speed when you open your mouth to speak.  You know that he knows this, and you know that he thinks this whole thing is fucking hilarious but god you just want more so bad right now you don’t even care.  He decides to throw you a bone.  

“Want me to pull your shorts off?”

You’re so embarrassed right now, all you can do is whine, covering your face as you nod your head.  

“Sorry, what was that?”  

He mumbles this into the side of your thigh, trying to hide the shit-eating grin adorning his face right now.  You feel like you’re going crazy.  

“Anton, I swear to god-“

“I’ll pull them off if you admit you look sexy in them.” 

His request throws you off-guard, he speaks up again as he takes in the confused look on your face.  

“All you have to do is say that you think you’re sexy.” 

“you can’t be serious.”  

When he stares back at you incredulously you realize he is in fact serious.  

“okay i’m sexy, now pull them off.”  

He tsks, rolling his eyes as he moves to pull his hand away from you.  You could scream you’re so frustrated.

“please just take them off.”  

“not until you give me what I want.”

Before you can protest he goes back to lapping at your clit through your panties, the fabric starting to turn obscenely wet from the combination of his spit and your juices.  You toss your head back, hands scrambling against the sheets now, the sudden stimulation overwhelming.  You look down at him again, noticing for the first time how he humps against the mattress as he goes down on you.  You whine out his name again, pleading with him to give you what you want already.  

“Sorry baby, I can’t hear you.”  He mumbles into your pussy.  

It’s just not enough, its everything and its so much but its not enough.  Your hands fly to his hair now, unable to stop yourself from humping his face.  In between your whines you could swear you hear him let out a ‘cute’.  Desperation overtakes you, fueled by the need to get off. 

“’m sexy.”  

You say it so quietly he can barely hear over the obscene sounds of his mouth sucking on wet fabric.  

“baby?”  

He glances up at you, and he nearly cums in his sweats right there.  Your eyes are half lidded, cheeks pink with your hair all fucked up, whimpering as you still have a grip on him, trying to fuck your hips up into his face as he pulls off of you.  

“I look so sexy….”  

You sound embarrassed as you say it still, but it’s good enough for him, just happy to have you look so fucked out and shy just because of him. 

He sits up briefly to pull his sweats down to his knees before he finally, finally, pulls off your boy shorts.  It’s obscene the way they stick to your cunt, completely drenched from the previous activities.  For the second time tonight, Anton nearly cums again just from finally seeing your pussy.  He spares a glance at your face and you just look dazed and breathless, too needy to be touched to think of anything else.  

He settles back between your legs, letting out a groan at the way his cock feels through the thinner material against the mattress.  He runs a thumb against your clit once, just to see the way it throbs when he pulls away.  

“s’cute.”  

He plants an opened mouth kiss to your cunt, not even complaining when you move your hands back to rest in his hair, gently guiding his mouth back to your pussy.  You could cry when you finally feel his tongue come into direct contact with your clit, letting out an obscene moan into the thick air.  From there the two of you fall into a steady rhythm, you humping against his face as he humps against your sheets, both dazed and mesmerized by the other, just watching.  When he brings two fingers to your entrance, you’re so wet theres hardly any resistance when he slides them in.  You cry out as he crooks them up, pushing and pulling them slowly in and out of you.  He’s gentle as he does it, just petting your insides, feeling the way you squeeze around him.  He pulls away from your clit to rest a cheek on the inside of your thigh, just watching his fingers stroke in and out, watching the way you cling to them not wanting to let him go.  

“anton.”

“mm.” 

“m’gonna cum.”  

He smiles at this, moving to suck on your clit again with an “okay baby.”  

You cum exactly like that, watching your boyfriend fuck your mattress as he presses against that gummy spot inside you, lapping at your clit.  When the stimulation becomes too much for your tired body you push his head away from between your legs.  He moves away from your cunt to rest his head on your thigh, just staring up at you with starry eyes as he speeds up his movement against the mattress.  You reach to bring his hand up to your face, sticking your tongue out to suck on the fingers that were previously inside you.  He lets out a full body shiver, groaning and cumming as soon as you wrap your lips around his fingers.  

“so sexy y/n,  pretty baby.”  

When his hips still, you both lie there, catching your breath.  In the midst of your panting you notice your playlist keeps looping on a single song, you wonder to yourself how many times its played before you noticed.  Quietly, so quietly you can barely hear yourself, you ask.

“you really think I’m pretty?”  

You’re looking away again, trying to come off as nonchalant to ward off the vulnerability.  You hear shuffling from the edge of your bed.  Then his hands are gentle on your chin, pulling you in for a kiss.  This one is sweeter than any of the ones before, his mouth gentle against yours, fingers delicately placed on the sides of your face to keep you in place.  When he pulls away, he leaves one more kiss on your forehead.  

“the prettiest.”  

#riize smut #riize x reader #anton lee #anton smut #anton x reader

[targaryenluvs]

LITTLE OLD ME? / SAM WINCHESTER

PAIRINGS: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: With the prospect of leaving you to find his father, Sam finds himself running out of time to tell you just how much you mean to him. But do you feel the same? And who’ll confess first?

WORDCOUNT: 2.6K Words

WARNINGS: Pining, jealousy, clueless Sam, teasing, confessions, angst, fluff, kisses, dual pov, arguments, THESE KIDS ARE CLUELESS!!! Lazy writing from me so I used the script

A/N: Set in season one! He’s too cute, he’s so cute I might just faint 😫 I’ll have some dark Sam soon don’t worry I always balance the scales 😋 Me… writing fluff?? unheard of! No Jess slander here too she’s your friend :P italics = flashbacks/thoughts/exaggerations

AO3 Link

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Sam had first met you at a party.

A friend of his had dragged him along, claiming that the College experience was not just about studying. Sam didn’t want to be there, but he also didn’t want to disappoint him.

He ended up letting his friend disperse, interacting with the people he knew. Sam knew no one at this party, it consisted of another schools students and a few familiar faces. He nodded at a few but found himself standing in a corner and trying to choose which assignment he was going to finish off when he got to his place.

Which is when he saw you, with one of the biggest smiles on your faces. And Sam couldn’t help but smile along with you. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know what on Earth was so funny, he wanted to smile because you were. It seemed like everyone circled you.

Your friend had noticed him staring your way about a minute ago, but didn’t want to be wrong. So she kept moving you around and dragging you to new people. Lo and behold, his eyes followed. Based on her check, he seemed sweet. He didn’t stare at your ass or your chest, just your face. He laughed and smiled when you did.

He seemed to admiring, and she liked it. Sam’s friend, Mason, returned to the room with a girl on his arm. She watched as Sam side hugged him once he returned.

Mutual friend? Check!

“If you drag me anywhere else my arm is going to fall off Jess!” The party seemingly faded away as you made eye contact with him, god was he cute. His gorgeous brown eyes and hair were more than enough to render you tongue-tied. Sam looked like a deer in headlights as he stared at you, why were you in front of him?

Had he been staring too long?

“Mace! There you are.” The two of them exchanged pleasantries, “Oh, this is my friend Kirnjot. Mason, Kirnjot.” Mason reached his hand out to you as you smiled at him. Sam found himself holding his breath, your smile is even bigger now.

He wanted you to smile his way, “This here is Sam! Sam, Kirnjot.” Jess and Mason shared the same idea as the three others watched as you smiled, “It’s nice to meet you Sam, you can just call me Kirn.” He snapped out of his daze and shook your hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty.

“Sam, I’m Sam. You know that, Mason told you. But uh, you can call me Sammy.” Masons eyebrows furrowed at the notion, he never called him Sammy. The girl on his arm tugged, “Let’s let these two get, acquainted.”

And that you did.

For the rest of the night, you may not have had as much to drink as the others, but you had one of the best nights of your life. You started off in the corner of the room, slowly getting to know eachother. The night led you outside, thumping music and shouts drowned out by the others presence.

Then somehow you ended up heading out for Ice Cream and then at the park. Sitting on swings and laughing at his awful jokes, you’d never felt more care-free. The night was full, and you were thankful.

He shone, if that made sense. Sam was a shot of espresso, and you were an addict. As cheesy as it sounds, you found him to bring color into your life. Your life wasn’t dreary and depressing, but it was boring. You found yourself going from class to your bed, the library, or working.

You had friends, yes, but not too many you could actually rely on if need be. That you trusted. And within one night, you found yourself pushing Sam to the top of that list.

Sam liked you from the get go, how could he not? With your infectious laughter and smile, kind eyes and understanding self. And you listened, with your whole body. You digested everything you heard and were full of empathy. He needed someone like you.

You’d been best friends since then, your first year of college. Best friends and undeniably in love with eachother. Not that the two of you ever noticed. It infuriated Jess and Mason to no end. The two of them saw it, every time you all hung out. The way Sam clung onto everything you said, as if it was Gospel.

The way your eyes practically glistened when he spoke or smiled. You looked up to eachother with so much emotion it hurt the soul. And the second the other was approached? All bets were off.

No man or woman in their mind continued to pursue you once they caught a glimpse of the huge, 6’5 giant behind you. Sometimes they’d keep going, but then he’d come up behind you with some stupid excuse to get you to go back to the table. And that person was left face to face with Sam and his unsettling smile, “You waiting for something?” A quick shake of the head and they were gone.

But it didn’t matter, whether or not you got together or not. You had eachothers backs at the end of the day, no matter what was going on. Even if you were fighting.

The night Sam’s life changed, you were drunk.

The two of you had an argument earlier on.

You ran your fingers through your hair as Sam followed you through the hallway of the apartment building, “Stop walking away from me!” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, “Stop telling me what to do!”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m trying to keep you safe Kirn.” His voice was softer now, and it pissed you off. How on Earth were you supposed to be angry with him when he looked like that. And then the eyes? Ugh!

“It seems like you’re always babying me Sam! I can go out with who I want to.” He sighed, taking a step closer he held onto your hands, “I’m not babying you, again, I just want to keep you safe.” You pursed your lips before crossing your arms, “What’s wrong with Ben?”

He’s a vampire.

“Kirnjot, please.” He was pleading, but you didn’t care.

“No! I never get a clear answer from you. Why don’t you want me to go out with him?” Your voice quivered as you waited for his response. You noticed his jaw clench, you could tell he was keeping his answer under wraps.

Is it because you like me?

“I- I-,” The words wouldn’t form in his mouth and he couldn’t find a decent answer.

“Good one Sam. I’m leaving.”

He watched as you entered the elevator, guilty eyes unwilling to meet his. He sighed as his head hung low, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Sam had been invited to go out that night, he turned it down. Jess had let him know which club the two of you had gone to, and kept him updated on whereabouts. If you needed a ride and he was out, it would take him about thirty minutes to get to you from his party.

A lot can happen in thirty minutes.

His phone ringing drew him out of the light sleep that he’d fallen under, “Hello?” The sleep in his voice was evident to Jess, “Hey Sam. It’s Kirnjot time.” He scoffed at the term whilst chucking on a jacket and grabbing his keys, “I’ll be there in 10.”

You hadn’t wanted to see Sam, which was what you’d told Jess, repeatedly. Even if it was most definitely not true. Sam and Jess had successfully stuffed your unconscious self into your car, you’d had Jess pick you up after the argument.

He’d been carrying you to his bed when you’d stirred, “I’m sorry. F-for fighting with you. Ben’s a bitch.” Sam laughed at your crude language as he laid you down on the your side of the bed. You’d claimed it the second he’d invited you over to his new place. “Glad to hear it Kirn.” Sam settled on his knees, removing your heels.

“Sweetheart?” Hair fell in front of your face as you turned to face him, “Mhm?” He moved it behind your ear, “You okay if I change you?” A half-assed thumbs up and a lopsided smile was all you could muster. He knew you wouldn’t mind anyways. You’d told him on multiple occasions that you’d murder him if he let you sleep in your makeup too.

“Could you ever be friends with me if I always had run down make up slobbered over me all the time?” You both sat in front of the TV, chowing down on pizza. “I thought that was your usual look?” The pillow you threw his way had begun a pillow war.

He removed your dress before picking out a shirt of yours and boxers. Since it was your favourite combo. Sam smiled at the notion of you practically swamped by his clothes. Using the makeup wipes you had stashed in the bathroom, he gently cleaned your face before settling in for the night. You quickly turned over to bury into the side of your personal furnace.

Sam’s eyes shot open at the sound, it was darker than before, later in the night. You being settled into his side checked off the possibility of you rattling around in the kitchen for a midnight snack. Quickly checking it out he was met with his brother Dean after a tussle.

“Whoa, easy, tiger.” Sam glared at Dean whilst trying to catch his breath, “Dean?” He laughed at Sam, “You scared the crap outta me!” Dean grinned, “That's 'cause you're out of practice.”

Whether he was offended or annoyed, Sam took the opportunity. He grabbed Dean’s hand and managed to turn him and they ended up on the floor.

Dean groaned, “Or not.” Dean tapped him twice where Sam was holding him. “Get off of me.” A small smile came across the youngest Winchester’s face as he rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Brushing himself off he straightened up, “Well, I was looking for a beer.”

Dean placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders, shaking once, and letting go. Sam was understandably confused, “What the hell are you doing here?” The elder of the two relented, “Okay. All right. We gotta talk.”

“Uh, the phone?” Sam crossed his arms as Dean rolled his eyes, “If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?”

Fair point.

The murmurs and bumps were more than enough to wake you up. You made your way to the source before turning the light on. Cursing whatever Sam chose for you to wear, it was cold.

“Sammy?” Your voice was like honey to the two of them, Dean couldn’t help but look at you appreciatively whilst clocking onto the fact that you called him Sammy. The boxers, the bare legs and the cute tired look on your face.

Sam and Dean turned their heads in unison to the sweet voice, “Kirn. Hey. Dean, this is my gir— friend. Uh, best friend. Kirnjot.” Sam cringed internally at his words.

Your face was painted in confusion as your brain finally processed his words, “Wait, your brother Dean?”

You smiled as Sam nodded, you’d always wanted to meet him. Dean grinned at you and moved closer.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.” You stuttered at the prospect of being Sam’s girlfriend. But you weren’t in the mood to deny it unless he did.

“I—, we aren’t— ,” By a glimpse you could see Sam’s eyes staring straight into Dean’s head, “Alright, why don’t you back up a little Dean?” Sam spoke as Dean laughed, “Just let me put something on.” As you turned to go a voice stops you.

“No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.” You smiled at him, “Nice to meet you too Dean.”

“No.” Sam goes over to Kirnjot and put his arm around her, “No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her. She’s my best friend.” That’s how you two were, touch was never weird for you two. It’s why you were always mistaken for a couple.

Dean sighs, “Okay.” He turns to look at them both straight on, “Um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.” Sam nodded along, “So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.”

Dean ducked his head and looked back up at the couple in front of him.

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Sam expression didn’t change as he nods along. Kirnjot glanced up at him with a frown, “You never told me your Dad still hunts.” Sam’s lips pressed into a tight smile, “Kirnjot excuse us. We have to go outside.” You nodded at him, “Can I borrow you, really quickly?”

Dean nodded as Sam smiled, “Of course.” Sitting down on the bed as Sam sat next to you, “If your dad’s missing then are you going to go look for him?” He didn’t know yet, he didn’t even know the whole story yet. “It depends I guess. Where he last was and what Dean tells me.”

“But what about Monday?” Sam couldn’t help but smile, of course you were worried about things that weren’t yours. “I’ll be back in time, I swear Kirn.”

He glanced over at you, your hands were in your lap as you smiled, “I know you haven’t told me what your dad hunts. But, I’ve seen your old diary.” His eyes immediately widened, “Kirnjot—,”

“I believe it, don’t worry. How can I not? I’ve watched my fair share of horror films and Buffy. Plus, my mum always used to tell me to keep an open mind to everything.” Sam had to take a second to grasp everything that had tumbled out from between your lips, “Wait— you knew?”

Your giggles were prominent, until it blew out into a laugh attack, “You should see your face! Of course I knew!” His eyebrows twisted as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t— what?” You grabbed his hands and clutched onto to them, “Baby, come on. All the random facts you always have, that one time you kept talking about the inaccuracies about Vampires. And then today,”

Sam’s face looked as if it had been drained or color, “If this is about—,”

“You sent an article that morning about Vampires and how they should actually be beheaded. And then a random story about them getting close to people abnormally quick. Which is exactly what happened with Ben. I got mad at you because I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

Sam sighed, “Well you can’t blame me for being cautious. And most people don’t handle the whole, ‘Ghosts are real’ bit that easily.”

“Well I’m not most people Sammy.”

“No, no you’re not. You’re better, you always have been Kirn.” The air in the room had apparently been drained, since you couldn’t breathe. Not with those gorgeous eyes staring down at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re not about to kiss me I give this interaction a minus 0 out of 10.” Sam scoffed, “So you’re rating me now?” You jokingly nodded as his hand was placed on your cheek before kissing you.

And God was it worth the wait.

As you pulled away you couldn’t believe you finally had him.

“100/10.”

“What an honour.”

You couldn’t help yourself as you kissed the tip of his nose, “Anything for something as cute as you.”

“Who, little old me?”

#supernatural x fem!reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #spn x you #spn x reader #spn fanfic #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader

[garfunklefield]

Could you do cult leader! geto I’m so feral for this like he doesn’t care about his followers but reader is just so pretty and he wants to make her his lover for the whole cult to see PLS IM FERAL N I LOVE YOUR WRITING <3

Red Ink

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/cult leader!Suguru Geto Warnings: angst, pining, slowish burn not really, selling and technically kidnapping, the reader has a sad backstory KAY [implied physical abuse], age gap [Geto is 37 and reader is 24], forbidden romance, im gonna make the reader sassy dx, alternate AU where Geto is a cult leader but it's set in more of an ancient time YOULL SEE [kind of like my happy marriage], bathtub masturbation, bathtub sex, sexual tension, cumshot [breasts], masochist!Suguru Geto, hair pulling, Word count: 7221 DESC: Suguru Geto never thought about giving a monkey who couldn't wield jujutsu a chance ... until he met you.

Hiii!!! I just got sick so please be patient my posts might get spaced out for a bit until I recover but I really like this! I took a few [A LOT] creative liberties when writing :3

If you want a guarantee I will write and post your request in a timely fashion head over to my Ko-Fi!

Every morning it was the same routine. Suguru would wake up at 7:45 AM every morning to an empty bed, with the lights a dull orange color. They hung from the room's corners and lit up just enough to let him peer around. He slowly forced himself off the squeaky mattress, becoming accustomed to the sensation of the cold wood against his bare feet. A breath of air flowed through his nose as his hand lazily trailed through his robes, hanging in his large closet. There were so many to choose from, all almost the same. Although, some details were different. Blue trim vs yellow, or a red pattern vs green. In all honesty, he never cared much about his appearance. As long as he wouldn’t have to leave, he didn’t mind his daughters or servants doing the shopping for him. Maybe that’s why the leader's hair was too long to manage, so he would lazily put half of it up in a semi-orderly bun. 

All of these people, and Suguru Geto was completely and utterly alone. He had no one who understood why he decided to become the leader of the Star Religious group so young, almost twenty years ago, at the ripe age of seventeen. All of his innocence was lost at such an age that he could feel a bitter taste rising on the back of his tongue. Bile. The taste of regret. Sometimes he looked out the window to some of the convent’s children playing in the courtyard, and he wished he had found a partner to aid him on his journey. No one ever caught his eye, no one ever piqued his interest. No one like … 

Suguru shook his head and blinked a few times, sending himself out of an impending spiral and instead leaving it for another day. He looked over to his robes, where his hand clung to his signature robe, yellow trim with a green pattern sewn to the front. There was something so comforting about this robe. Maybe because it was the first one ever made for him by his monkey servants, the only monkeys he’d ever let near his person without choosing to disinfect himself afterward. They knew their place in society and acted accordingly. The only monkeys he could tolerate. 

Another sound took him out of his thoughts, a knock on the door. He turned his head, “Come in,” was all he had to rasp. His voice was naturally soft, as he didn’t typically raise it past a whisper to most. Only when Suguru was truly enraged would he begin to scream and yell at those useless monkeys… but that was becoming rare now.

A tuft of pink hair appeared from the door as it opened, showing his secretary Manami. She strolled in as if she owned the room, opting to close the door with a push to her hip. The male watched her with an indifferent gaze as she tapped the rickety clipboard in her hand, “I found you a personal servant.”

“Personal servant? Why would I need that? I’m capable of dressing myself, you know,” as Suguru spoke he began to pull at his sheer robe, the one he slept in. His secretary looked up to the ceiling, avoiding any and all contact with his body as she possibly could. 

She tapped a pen along the rim of the clipboard as she continued, “Someone to make the bed and cut your hair. It’s getting too long, sir.” Manami swiftly raised her hand and pointed to him with the pen, still avoiding his body with her eyes up. He raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging off the robe and setting it neatly on his bed. His jaw flexed as he clenched it, in thought. Would the leader of the Star Religious group need a personal maid to do every little thing he needed? I mean, it sounded appealing to have a monkey fetch him any useless thing he requested. Watching them spread themselves thin trying to appease him. His lips pulled together in a silent smile at that thought.

“What’s this servant's credentials?” Suguru pulled his robe off the hanger and blew on it lightly, ridding it of the dust it had collected throughout the week it had been since he wore it. 

“Well she’s about 24, so past any good age to get married off,” she listed off, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke, “She’s worked in several different houses as a housekeeper and nanny, but she’s been let go for differing reasons.”

Geto slid on his robe and adjusted it until it fell across his muscular body, “Fired? Was she unruly or perhaps a pain in the ass?” A humorous tone took to his voice and Manami laughed in response, handing him the clipboard so he could see for himself. In a subtle sprawl, it wrote your name. It was interesting as he perused down the paper, stopping at the section where it detailed how you were let go: “Fired for talking back” and “Inappropriate conduct” happened to be recurring on the list, making the leader quirk an eyebrow. The last time he had anyone with some sense of personality was ages ago, as I previously stated my guy doesn’t raise his voice often. “What does she look like?” He asked, handing the clipboard back to the woman.

“I dunno. Why? Finally over your ex, Sugruuuuuuu?” Manami teased, a grin appearing on her face. However, it quickly disappeared as soon as he shot her a warning glare. Never bring up that name. Even edging around the subject, do not bring it up. Every servant and every secretary knew the leader’s past was a delicate subject. Never bring it up. 

She cleared her throat and continued, “Her parents are the ones using her for labor money. We can undercharge them for an old hag and get full labor! ‘Course, she’d have to live here… but I can situate that,” she waved a hand in the air to dismiss that train of thought, “I think it’ll be good for you, sir. Maybe you can get some release.”

She did it that time. Suguru’s eyes shot up to hers and gave her a look that would have sent anyone running. Manami apologized instantly, bowing her head. Everyone also knew of their Emperor’s lack of sexual lovers, and his constant sexual frustrations. He had never been able to fully relieve himself, for well over twelve years. There was a pent-up hunger burning inside him and no one could satiate it no matter how much he tried.

“Hire her. I wish to get acquainted with my new personal servant.”

Your personality had always bounced back even in the face of adversity, maybe that’s why every household you’ve ever worked for had fired you. Life wasn’t easy for someone like you, in a family who didn’t prioritize you. All they wanted were sons and they were blessed with a daughter who couldn’t even marry, you were a disgrace. So they decided they would use you for money if they could, milking you for every cent you were worth. However, you couldn’t keep a job. 

You started well-behaved and quiet, but soon the snippy comments would start. Then soon, you’d be making a scene, disrespectfully calling out your bosses for their treatment in a very public manner. Then they’d fire you instantly, making your family angry once more. It was a vicious cycle they couldn’t snap you from. You were never going to change until your father had announced you had been sold. 

The Star Religious group had agreed to your purchase, giving your family a sum of money they hadn’t seen in their entire lifetime. It was enough for them to skip town and leave you in your own abandoned house. Rough. Of course, that money wouldn’t hold them afloat forever, but they didn’t realize it at the time. All you could think about was the fact you had been abandoned by the people you had been blessed to, the people who said they loved you. 

You were never going to change until that day.

There was no use in fighting, because what happened after this? You’d have no one to back you up or a roof to sleep under. This time… you weren’t going to fuck it up. A carriage arrived at your vacant lot a day after your parents announced you were sold, leaving you alone with your thoughts. In a side bag were two kimonos, a compact, and a hair clip. You opened your rickety front door and peered over at the carriage with wide eyes. Normally a comment would fly out of your mouth, but you couldn’t even will yourself to speak. You didn’t have the will or energy to do anything more than sit and stare like a rock before a woman came out of it. 

She was beautiful, with short pink hair and a purple dress. She shouted your name and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach, “Oh he’s going to like you very well. Sir Geto has a thing for submissive women.” 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh in her face and contradict her statement, nodding lifelessly, “I am grateful for this opportunity, Ms.” 

“Ms. Manami Suda to you!” She grinned, stepping aside to let you walk inside the carriage. It was a dull red on the outside and the same interior-wise, nothing special. You didn’t note the patterns on the inner walls or how the cushion felt. In all honesty, you didn’t care. Even though it was mid-day, you found yourself fantasizing about sleeping in a cot that wasn’t made of pure shit material, maybe even with a pillow. 

The carriage ride was quiet, aside from the occasional comment from Manami about how you didn’t have the monkey smell. Oh, that’s right… they were Jujutsu Sorcerers. You or anyone in your family for that matter were not blessed with the sorcerer gene, so you truly didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of speaking you nodded politely and let a fake small smile grace your lips, as if you were actually listening to her. The countryside was beautiful, the ride taking you deep into the middle of nowhere. Then you saw it, large buildings all coupled together to create a convent. They were tan with brown bamboo roofs, slanted to a point on the top. Incredibly gorgeous. You had always fantasized about building your own buildings one day, admiring from afar. But you weren’t built for that lifestyle. 

It was only ever going to be a fantasy for you it seemed.

The two of you entered the convent in silence, taking in the architecture. It was gorgeous, something you had seen from far away but never dared to venture to up close. You resisted so many urges to run your hand along the columns of the outdoor hallways that lined the outdoor courtyard in the center, where many of the children played. They all looked happy and free, something you found yourself envying.

“Lord Geto is right this way,” Manami spoke eagerly, walking ahead of you and motioning around, “Get used to it kid, you’ll be spending a lot of time here,” she then glanced back at you, a smile branding her lips, “Don’t get smart.” To her, she didn’t think that you were the same girl with the smart mouth that had been let go so many times. In some ways, you weren’t the same. You were so completely and utterly done with your life you couldn’t bring yourself to even have an ounce of personality you once did.

The rest of the walk was quiet before she turned on her heels to the right and motioned to a large door. It was red, with golden trim around the edges. You couldn’t see inside but you knew exactly what lay behind those doors. Manami took your bag from you politely and knocked a few times on the door, hearing some shuffling and seeing them open. Two guards opened the door, their faces stone-cold and stoic. They were almost scary looking, but nothing prepared you for the man who was behind them. He sat on a mound of pillows, head resting in his palm, and his eyes glued to you. In every sense of the word he was gorgeous, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. And he could say the same about you.

Suguru’s eyes widened just a tad as he took in your person. You were beautiful, looking hand-carved from a cloud by the finest god, wine drunk on nothing but your beauty alone. How could this be? No non-sorcerer should have ever made him stare for longer than a few seconds. Manami noticed, hell, everyone but you noticed. He blinked once, then twice, pulling him out of the trace you had put over him, a delicate smile gracing his lips. He spoke your name and used his free hand to beckon you over.

You did as you were told, walking into the room silently. But you hadn’t seen the rug placed before you or the corner of that small table. You found yourself hitting the side of the table with your right ankle, then tripping forward, completely slipping due to the rug. It was within seconds you were face down to the ground, letting out an astonished gasp. That was it. You had done it. You had tripped in front of the most notorious non-sorcerer-hating Sorcerer in the entire country. You had made a complete and utter fool of yourself and that was going to be the end of your life. A sad and embarrassed blush filled your cheeks and hollowed out your temples, waiting for your punishment. 

“I’m… so very sorry,” you managed to mumble, lifting your head from your crouched position. You didn’t hear Suguru lean forward, changing his position to kneel in front of you, and you didn’t expect him to be leaning over you so closely. His face looked down at you with a different kind of softness, raven strands of hair falling over his ears.

“Nonsense. It happens to the best of us… sit up,” he purred, whispering a magical tune in your ear. In any other person, this caring persona would have elicited a feeling of trust and safety. But you found this to be resulting in a different kind of reaction. Suguru’s brow furrowed ever so slightly when you sat up, moving to sit on your knees in front of him, and stared at him with … fuck me eyes?? No one had ever lusted after him so obviously and that quickly too! I mean he was Suguru fucking Geto, for crying out loud- he was supposed to be scary, not sexy! Well… maybe both. 

He blinked slowly to reset his thoughts, letting a gentle hand swipe past her cheek and softly hold her chin. Geto spoke your name lowly as he tilted your head to one side, taking in your features. It was nothing more than a pass over to see you fully, but you had completely soaked your underwear. Yeah, that’s right, you weren’t scared of him you were aroused. It felt even more embarrassing because it was incredibly obvious your fear-torn stare had turned into something more objectifiying. 

You were just picturing him leaning in and whispering sweet nothings as his voice broke your thoughts, “Your name is very pretty.” His voice brushed against your ears and once he retracted his hand back, a small frown parted your lips. His touch was warm and soft, contrasting the devilish stare Suguru typically wore. You wanted to relish in it for a few more moments, but you couldn’t live in a fantasy, now could you?

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, looking down to your lap. You just felt your wetness create an uncomfortable pool in your underwear, making it hard not to squirm. Especially with those naturally beautiful eyes staring at you with a hidden curiosity. 

Aside from the obvious lust radiating off of your person, you were a hard individual to read. Geto was getting mixed signal after mixed signal from your face he decided to sigh and ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment, opting to go over the business side of things. “You will become my personal servant, focussing on cooking, cleaning, and fulfilling my everyday needs. Understood?”

You nodded as he continued, “I would let Manami show you to your room… but it appears she’s wandered off,” he motioned to the slightly open door behind you, “I don’t mind showing you.” With that, the emperor stood up and cleared his throat, brushing his big hands against his robe. You watched with wide eyes as it flowed around him, making him appear more majestic than he actually was. You found yourself standing up and following your new boss, opting not to speak or do anything to draw more attention to yourself. 

As the two of you walked, the columns lining the walls took hold of your mind. The patterns in the wallpaper were one thing in itself, but the structure of the clearly customized columns made your heart flutter. It was gorgeous. Dragon scales dipped into the wall before coming out, in the middle of every door that lined the long indoor hallway. Your feet slowed to a stop, staring at the gold dragon trim. Your hand inched toward it slowly, just one touch to see the type of material. Suguru hadn’t noticed you wandered off until he turned and in the corner of his eye, he saw you stroke the wall. At first, he wanted to do the dick thing and clear his throat, embarrassing you. But something stopped him. You were as pretty as that dragon, the gold reflecting off your skin and making you practically glow in the dim light. You were gorgeous. Stunning even. It was strange, he had never felt himself this attracted to anyone in his life. Aside from- never mind. 

The leader slowly walked back, making his way behind you. You were tolerable to be around, tolerable for a monkey. That was something he had to remind himself about. You were still a non-sorcerer. You were still inferior to him in every sense of the word. Whatever feelings were creeping into his chest and making his heart sing had to get shut away in that instant, so he did the dick move and cleared his throat. 

Your hand was on one of the scales and you froze, turning your head with the speed of light to meet his gaze. “Lord… Please forgive me,” you blurted out, turning on your heel and pressing both hands to your chest, “I’m very sorry. I should never have gotten distracted. I’m sorry,” you squeaked, shutting your eyes tight. You knew what was bound to come… either a physical punishment or your letter of unemployment. Before Suguru could even respond, you lifted your head and tilted it to the side, motioning to your cheek. 

His eyebrow quirked up. He had never seen a servant ask for a punishment for their own wrongdoings, especially when it wasn’t that severe. A strange pang hit his chest, causing a weight to form across his own heart. What had happened in your sad life that made you so prone to letting people do things like that to you? This wasn’t the woman he was expecting. When you walked in, terrified and shy, then … horny, he thought he had gotten the wrong girl. Something must have happened for you to change like that. Maybe your obvious attraction was a hint of the personality you were hiding. Then Suguru had another question: why were you hiding your personality? The first duh answer was so you wouldn’t get fired right away, right? But he felt like there was something more. 

Something he shouldn’t have cared about. You were a non-sorcerer, a monkey! It was forbidden on all accords. 

Suguru blinked a few times, taking himself out of his weird spiral of thoughts to look at your face, contorted with worry, “It’s … alright. I wasn’t aware you liked architecture,” he motioned to the dragon’s golden bodice on the wall, “That was custom made from…” You let your boss explain how the dragon was made and imported, listening to every word. You didn’t want to speak and ruin your only chance at a new life. This was the one and only time you had ever held your breath, stopping any words from coming out. 

After a moment, the male paused and looked over you once more. Something was turning over inside his head and he so desperately wanted an answer. What was going on inside your head and what had deflated your personality so? What had made you turn yourself into a shell of the person he knew was still in there? …And why was he longing to see this? But he said nothing. The moment had passed and as quickly as you wandered off, you were shown to your room. If Geto had let himself unravel any further he would have requested her to accept a binding vow of pure honesty, with the promise of his protection. Why? Why was she pulling at his mind and making him lose it?

That night, he set himself a bath. The water splashed and made small waves as he dipped his feet into it, before submerging his large body. There was something so very calming about a bath to clear his mind… but he couldn’t rid it of you. Of your face, of your monkey smell, or your body. Even though the kimono you were wearing was a size too big, he still made sure to look you over subtly. He took in your large curves and bit his lip, thinking about them as he sat by himself. He was completely and utterly alone, in spirit and in a literal sense. Of course, he’d get a morning erection every now and then, but it had been a long time since something had turned him on just from the thought of it. 

One of Suguru’s hands dipped into the water and grabbed ahold of his meaty cock, dragging a hand up and down his length. It was foreign, but coming back to him like muscle memory. He didn’t want to savor this orgasm to the thought of a lowly monkey, he wanted to get it over with then pretend it never even happened. He wanted to pretend this was all some strange dream he was forced into… not at all something that was going to be plaguing him. He inhaled sharply and leaned his head back, resting his back against the edge of the bathtub. The water was coming up to his mid stomach, warming up his lower half. His pleasure was a gradual build, but he was trying his hardest to rush it. The leader wanted nothing more than to cum and then forget it. His hand tightened around his shaft, stroking upwards to find any sense of release. It was a few seconds before he came, rolling his hips a few times at the new sensation. It was a build of pure warmth before he felt his fluids ooze out of his tip with heavy force. It sprung into the water and contaminated it with his filthy seed. 

It was enough to make him grimace. A non-sorcerer made him so hot and bothered he was forced to spill all over himself, in the bath no less! First, he felt an odd sense of attraction to you… now he wanted nothing to do with it. If it was going to keep him feeling this way, Suguru wanted nothing to do with you. Even if you were beautiful, and you smelt good, and your skin was soft. He could feel it on his fingertips, a psychosomatic warmth radiating off of his hands. 

This was not going to be good for him. You were not going to be good for him.

You woke up at 9 AM sharp, not by choice. Manami shook you a few times, forced you out of your comforting dream, and made you sit up on the small cot you had gotten as your bed. It was more than you could have ever asked for, even if it was made for someone a bit smaller than you. So was your new kimono. They had a dress code for servants to differentiate them, and clearly whoever was the last servant didn’t have a very large … bust. You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your form ache to be freed from the tight clothing. The buttons didn’t go all the way down, exposing a bit of cleavage, and it tore a bit at the small of your back. Manami wasn’t much help either, opting to snicker at you and roll her eyes. You wanted to bite back and say something to get her riled up, but you never found your strength. Instead, you took it and nodded. 

“Okay so, Sir Geto’s room is the one to your left. Go ahead and start his bath. Don’t try to wake him up, though. He’ll be all grumpy if you do,” she explained, motioning wildly with her hands. She was a very extroverted person. Someone you would’ve gotten along with if you didn’t feel like absolute dog shit at that very moment. You nodded your head politely and exited the room, opening your bosses. 

It was neat, with barely any decor. Gas lanterns hung from the walls dimly, always keeping the room somewhat illuminated. You tried your hardest not to look at his sleeping form, but you caved. He was so gorgeous it made you pussy throb just from looking at him. His face was resting peacefully against his pillow, some black hairs sprawled against his forehead. His hair was long, longer than you expected, flowing behind him on his bed. And he was wearing what appeared to be a sheer robe. You swallowed and made your way into his bathroom, almost slipping on the excess water left behind from his previous night's bath. You were innocent enough not to question the pile of tissues on the counter, pushing them into the small garbage pail. Then it was a matter of setting up his bath.

In a cabinet hidden by a curve in the wall, you noticed some aromatic bath salts and other essential oils. One of the households you worked for was very into the essential thing, so you had an idea of what scents went together. You didn’t want Geto to smell like a whole mixture of things, but rather one family of scents. You chose a vial of rosemary, lavender, and peppermint oil, hoping it would go together. The bath turned on with a single turn of the knob. Your hands rested on the base of the tub, feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. It got to the perfect temperature and you put the stopper on the drain, letting it fill up. In the meantime, you sat on the edge of the bathtub and peered around the bathroom. It was again, tidy and austere. He didn’t have an eye for decorating or he didn’t enjoy it. 

You heard a faint groan in the bedroom, signaling Suguru was waking. You inhaled the smell of rosemary and turned on your side to watch as it spilled one drop at a time from the vial. Then fell the peppermint, followed by the lavender. The scent filled the bathroom in an aromatic fashion, filling your senses with a sudden calm. Was it some kind of drug concoction? It was a smell that made you lean back and sigh, filling you with a sense of safety in your surroundings. 

“Good morning,” Suguru spoke, a raspy edge to his voice. Your eyes shot open from their closed state and you stood up, clasping your hands on your chest to hide your cleavage. But you hadn’t seen him staring at you from the bathroom door. He leaned against the doorframe, in only his thin nighttime robe, and stared at your thick breasts. The fabric was so tight, it pulled gaps between each button. He had to admit it, it was hot. Even if you were a filthy monkey, you were a hot filthy monkey. A hot filthy monkey with a banging body. 

“Lord Geto, I was preparing your bath,” you stepped to the side and motioned to the filling water. He caught a glimpse of your back as you turned to turn the knob to the water down to a stop. He saw the tear and the bit of your lacey underwear peeking out from underneath it. Was he that much of a monster that the first time a beautiful non-sorcerer appeared, he’d cave and melt? 

It was starting to feel that way as something came out of his mouth, “How do you feel about me? …Honestly.”

You opened your mouth to respond, on autopilot, before you closed it as quickly as you opened it. What could you say? You found him attractive and you wanted him to breed you? You couldn’t exactly say that, so instead you opted for something more generic, “I think you’re a very respectable leader and emperor to your coven.”

Bull. Shit. Suguru knew it was a lie and he knew you knew it as well. He didn’t have a reputation for being respectable in any sense of the word. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d murder anyone who wronged him in any way. A cold-blooded killer who was beginning to have a strange soft spot for you… 

“Tell me this,” he took a step forward, “if you vow to never lie to me again … I vow to protect you from getting fired, no matter what.” Was he seriously going to bindingly vow himself to some non-sorcerer? Was he seriously going to do this because he wanted to know how he was perceived? 

“...Really?” You asked, your mouth opening slightly. All he wanted was honesty?? You could do that! You could do that so well!! 

“Really,” Geto took another step forward and began to undo the tie holding together his robe. You had made it a point to stare at his face, but you were aching to quickly glance down below his belt. Just for a second.

“Okay. I swear…” You looked away and bit your bottom lip for a moment. You’d have to be honest now. You looked back at the man and let a smile appear on your face, “I think you’re more hot than you are scary.” 

Suguru’s eyes widened. That’s not at all the kind of tonal shift he had expected from you. He expected you to admit some kind of vague attraction and perhaps that he was a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But… he got a response which made an embarrassed blush fill his temples. 

“I’m .. hot?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t shy away now, making direct eye contact with his flaccid cock. It was beautiful even in that state, making your mouth hang open just a bit more. It was huge too. Thoughts of his girth stretching out your tiny pussy flooded into your thoughts. He could fuck you so good with that thing. And his voice… it was perfect.

“A lot of you is hot,” you looked back at his face, which was an excruciatingly bright shade of red. No one had ever felt this comfortable to objectify Suguru this way to his face. He couldn’t deny the fact he was growing to enjoy it. And grow in other ways. He took a few more steps forward, hands reaching out and pulling you closer to his front. 

“You’re being filthy, not honest,” a small smirk graced his lips as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes, beaming with lust. 

“I can do both,” you returned a smile. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had complete and utter job security. That’s all you could have ever wanted in your entire life, just a place to stay. Even if it meant working with this hot guy for the rest of your life, you didn’t mind. Although, he thought of you as inferior, you didn’t care. That’s what did it. Your personality had been led out of its cage and shown to Suguru’s perverted gaze. He realized what kind of person you were from your few sentences. You were just as much of a pervert as he was. The tonal shift was enough to make you realize what his next plans were, especially when he let his big hands snake around your waist. 

“This is,” Suguru let out a breath and craned his head down, brushing his lips past your ear, “Very wrong… But I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss you, pretty girl,” he cooed, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him as he pulled his face back. You both looked at each other’s features for a moment without anything. What was there to say? You could feel him throbbing between your legs with that massive log he had attached to his front. It was hot. You just wanted to trail your hand down his chest and watch him shiver when you got to his v-line.

“You can’t fire me… so I don’t care,” two hands found themselves placed on his bare chest, running up and down his pectorals, “Am I too lowly for you, sir?” You purred, looking back up at him with a lustful expression. It was all you had to say before he proved you wrong. Devastatingly slow, he brought your lips together. The hand on your chin disappeared, moving to rest upon your ass. You sighed into the kiss, molding your lips together in perfect synchronization. It was as if his mouth was made for you, pulling you into sensations you had never felt before. The kiss didn’t last long before he pulled back and looked down at you with an unmistakable expression. He was going to fuck the living shit out of you. It was written on his face from the way he was clearly thinking about how to go about it. There was a bathtub full of aromatic water, waiting to be used… You looked down at the tub and looked back at him. You two didn’t have to say anything as his hands grabbed at the hole from the back of your kimono and ripped it. It made a loud tearing sound and he continued to pull, until little to no fabric hung from your breasts. 

You gasped and looked down at the mess he had made, moving to undo your underwear, then you looked at his cock. It was just aching to be touched in some way. Your hand found his tip and started to stroke down his shaft, then up. Who knew a non-sorcerer's hands would feel phenomenal compared to his own? Suguru let out a faint groan, leaning into your touch. He had never let himself take pleasure in things, ever since his breakup [at KFC] twenty years ago… but now it felt different. He felt like he had one chance to do this and he wasn’t going to spoil it. Your hands were so warm, he could just imagine how warm your mouth would be, gagging on his length.

Large hands cupped your ass and lifted your body, causing you to exclaim loudly and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. He was so strong, you could hardly believe it. It was pure talent and genetics that made him perfect on every level. His face was godly and his body was sculpted from the heavens just for your perverted stare. The male set you down gently in the tub, being mindful to make sure you didn’t land too hard on your plush backside. He wanted to save the bruising on your skin for when it was from him. He wanted his hands to be the ones leaving imprint after imprint on your skin, slapping and grabbing without a care for what would be left behind. He plopped down into the water, not caring if he got water to spill from the sides. He didn’t care about anything, because his hands and eyes were glued to you. His hands hooked around your hips and pulled you onto his lap, still being mindful not to hurt you. 

You grinned and leaned forward, pushing strands of ebony-colored hair across his forehead and away from his beautiful eyes. Purple, they stared back at you gently. “This… is nice,” you spoke softly, pressing your lips first on his forehead, then his nose, before landing on his lips. It was chaste, as the first kiss had been. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Suguru’s tongue slipped its way into your mouth and took over with a dominating force, making you bite back a whimper. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to move it to elicit whatever reaction he pleased. Your hands raked through his hair, before grabbing fistfuls at the root and moaning into his mouth. He liked that, moaning with you.  

“...Harder,” he mumbled against your open mouth, kissing back for more.

“What a pretty little masochist,” you smiled, running your hands through the roots of his hair before clenching them down and yanking up another fistful, hearing him whine in his low gravelly voice. Fuck… it just made you so wet. You clenched your thighs together as you kissed up his face, pulling his hair just to hear the ardor-esc moans fill the room. This was even better than sex, just hearing him get a little bit of pleasure out of this hair-pulling would’ve been satisfactory. But as you did this, you felt his hands fondle your ass, squeezing and palming your skin. It wasn’t long before he lifted you and had you position his throbbing dick against your folds. 

You had never felt a dick this good penetrate you in your life. Something about the way it curved to the left and the bulbous head, touched areas you didn’t even know you had, just on the way down. You threw your head back in a breathy whine, rocking your hips back and forth once you felt yourself hit the base of his cock. Suguru used his two hands to help you slide up his length, then down again. He had you trapped in a rhythm of fucking your tight cunt with his member, making you his fuck toy. The male had never felt himself slip into such a trace over a monkey of all people. Non-sorcerers should have not had this hold on him, but you were different. You gasped and bit down on your hand to stop a loud groan escaping your mouth, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“Dirty slut,” Suguru uttered, biting on his bottom lip to stop his own noises from getting too loud. No one could figure out this was happening. It was wrong. It was against everything he had ever stood for. But …god it felt so good. Your walls clenched around him every time he forced you down on his length, taking the time to feel up your hips and ass. You were so soft, inside and out. The perfect toy he could use. 

It didn’t take him long to feel close, a familiar pang of desire creeping up the shaft of his cock. You were beyond ready to cum, with this log inside you it wouldn’t take long. You bit down on your fingertips and cried out, not having time to muffle your wails of pleasure. It was a warmth you hadn’t felt in such a long time wash over your whole vagina, flushing out through your body next. You convulsed, grinding your hips back and forth to continue to elongate your high for as much as possible, causing a second orgasm on your way down. No one had ever made you cum like that, making you dumbfounded by the sheer will of their dick. 

The cult leader felt himself throbbing for release, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it inside you. There couldn’t be any evidence of your joint mistake running around in nine months, not here. Instead, he pulled you off his cock and pressed his lips together, “Press your…” He motioned to your breasts then his cock, “So I can…” You nodded and pressed your tits together, pushing them up against the length of his dick. That was all he needed, using his left hand to finish the job. He focused his energy on the swollen tip, leaking precum and begging to release all over your mounds of perfect flesh. Mounds he wanted so desperately to put in his mouth and suck. 

Then he came, splattering out of his cock and messily coating your tits. Most of the cum was on your skin, although half of it also found its way into the water. You bit your lip as he came and thrust into the air, into nothing. It was like volt after volt of pure pleasure was shot through his urethra and forced out in one big release, a release he didn’t know he was even capable of. Your cunt had felt so good it made Suguru’s dick completely sensitive to any kind of touches, including his own. So when he came, he let out a loud whine, in his devilishly low voice, “F-fuck… mmm shit.. This was.. Hah.. a mis-mistake,” he breathed out, trying to regulate himself after he had just felt an explosive orgasm run through his penis.

You nodded and looked down at your breasts, coated in his cum. How were you going to explain to Manami that all of your clothes mysteriously wound up torn in Lord Geto’s bathroom? And how were you going to explain the fact you were also covered in Lord Geto’s cum?

“...Can I call you Suguru now?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head to the man who looked as though he had just run a marathon. 

There was something utterly interesting about your personality now that you had freed it from your nervous shackles. Suguru didn’t want to extinguish this new fire in your eyes, he wanted to foster it and let it burn. There was no way he was developing some kind of feelings for you other than lust… there was no way. But there were going to be dramatic changes now. After that day, you were treated as one of the regular Sorcerers, which infuriated Manami to no end. You were the most prized possession of Suguru Geto and everyone knew not to anger or upset you because he would get wind of it. Then… there’d be trouble. You were his prized possession. The possession he wanted to see smile and laugh in the sunlight, rather than stay inside and do mindless chores. The possession he wanted to have slept next to him in his bed at night and wrapped his large arms around. 

The possession he was growing to… love.

#getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru getou #getou suguru #geto suguru #jjk suguru #jjk getou #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #geto smut #getou x reader #getou suguru x you #getou suguru x y/n #x reader #x reader smut #smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you

[plaguechyld]

Omggg finally a blog with dom reader instead of sub!! I'm so excited I don't know what to even request with all the thoughts in my head! I'm into power play, spanking, dumbification, praise kink and overstimulation. I can't think of a storyline but you can choose one of any of those kny characters (muzan, kokushibo, giyuu, yoriichi or kagaya ) thanks!

i’m glad you’re excited!! All of these are right up my alley too lol

first giyuu work of the blog?? Lets goooo (reader is uppermoon two along with douma)

cw: sub!giyuu, dom!gn!reader, demon!reader, uppermoon!reader, praise, spanking, dumbification, overstim, manhandling, crying, reader is said to have an angelic appearance, you/your used for reader, plot, fighting is flirting, reader has strap/cock (referred to has cock but can be interpreted at strap), demons can purr

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen, Giyuu was supposed to be in for a suicide mission, fighting uppermoon two alone.

The demon slayer had been confronted by the demon, you, in the dead of night when he was all alone on a patrol of the outskirts of a town in the wild lands of Japan’s countryside.

The first thing he noticed about you, embarrassingly enough, was how stunning your appearance is. Still, that didn’t stop him from drawing his katana from its sheath and baring it at you.

Giyuu swallowed when he saw your eyes, how could he not? They were beautiful after all, though they held the demonic inscription of uppermoon two.

The battle would be bloody, he knew. Your strength outweighed his by an obscene amount, your flesh could mend itself back together within mere seconds and your stamina was nearly unlimited, something he would soon come to see in a different light.

A soft smile played on your mouth, lips tugged up in a gentle manner as the skin around your eyes crinkle slightly. Each blow the hashira dealt was easily sidestepped by you, making Giyuu somewhat enchanted by you despite himself.

Your movements were so graceful, making you look like a living angel as you danced through the entourage of blade slashes directed at you.

Your smile never fades as you gradually get closer and closer to Giyuu despite him thinking that he has quite a handle at keeping you at a fair distance. The elation surprised him and he found himself soon unable to keep you more than a few feet away from him.

Sweat started beading on his forehead as he tried harder, channeling every skill he knew of from both his breathing style and swordsmanship in general. But despite the worry he was feeling at your nearing presence, you didn’t intend him any harm, you just had to exhaust the hashira to the point where he couldn’t fight back any longer.

Truth be told you found him absolutely beautiful, those deep sapphire eyes and dark black hair framing his pale face. Those fluid water-like movements, a signature of water breathing users, just looked so much better when it was Giyuu moving in that way.

In your century of life you have come across many different demons, demon slayers and normal mortals.. Even playing around with a handful that you found physically attractive, though none ever tugged at any heartstrings of yours, nor achieved a second glance.

This human was different, he was undeniably handsome but also his quiet nature intrigued you.

Mortals and even demons varied in personality, of course. But when they were in the presence of you they either become obnoxiously loud, crying and screaming and whatnot. Either that or they would cower in fear, not even daring to speak a word to you, causing you to quickly become bored with their existence.

But Giyuu was different, he was quiet, not screaming at you for your existence but at the same time his silence was not driven by fear. No, it was driven by the pure focus driving him forward.

Undoubtedly Giyuu harbored some hate towards you merely for the fact you were a demon. It didn’t bother you, however. He was respectful in his fight, never once did an insult slip past his plush lips which you found to be quite a pleasing change of pace.

And so you let him fight, let him display his years of training in such a gorgeous way.

Giyuu wasn’t completely unaware of your silent musing, he noticed the way you gazed at him with dreamy eyes. He saw the way you allowed his every attack to finish, even if it never hit you.

Those small things go unnoticed by many, so many that it has annoyed you for multiple decades. But you knew that Giyuu saw them and that only fueled your interest in him.

The fight was quiet, only the soft rustling of fabric, impact against grass and sword slashes swinging through the air.

But at the same time it spoke louder than any word could. The soft dance you two were in together grew closer and closer like it was nearing its grand finish, however that end would not be in death nor would it come that night.

The both of you seemed to look past the slashing of Giyuu’s sword, focusing on the small gestures of movement that brought a soft hue of pink to the hashira’s ears.

Your hand would graze his blade for a moment before he danced away from you again. He wasn’t that easy to woo, you found, which made you try even more. But at the same time Giyuu never rejected you, no. He was just putting on a show, a beautiful one at that.

The two of you had lived a life of darkness and bloodshed so a meeting such as this was only appropriate, no? To many others it would appear that the hashira’s fate was sealed and in a way it was, though there was no promise of death when he was with you.

It was important for the first promise between them to remain silent, not spoken aloud. The words in early days of meeting are unimportant in such a world, the quiet bond that was being built was much more precious, like a small defenseless thing that you wanted to shelter. It was valuable to you, you realized.

In some ways Giyuu felt the same. He just couldn’t help it, he was lonely. He had been lonely since childhood so the promise from such a seemingly… angelic demon seemed tempting to him. That temptation was already drawing him in, he had fallen to it, how could he not? You were so pleasing to be in the presence of. Despite the clear warning of the kanji inscribed in your beautiful e/c eyes the hashira found himself unable to pull away.

You welcomed him, you welcomed him to you, ignoring the biological hatred between the two of you because why would that matter? You had all eternity to have whatever you desired, why would principles make it any different?

The need, no matter how faint, was all too visible to you. Giyuu didn’t hide it from you, never averting his gaze from your own as if he wanted to drive your primal hunger for him. He didn’t fear your fangs nor your sharp nails that could dig into his flesh if he were to make a single misstep.

As his stamina ran out his muscles began to ache, his movements were growing more sluggish from their dance dragging on too long for his human body to handle.

This notion didn’t slip past your notice, after all the two of you were already so in tune with each other despite never speaking a word.

You let him drop right into your arms from fatigue and somehow Giyuu didn’t find himself afraid of what was to come.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Slept left Giyuu after some hours of sleeping. He found himself waking up in a lavish western style bed. The room was comfortable, having a nice scent of something like vanilla and cinnamon.

The hashira found that couldn’t bring himself to sit up out of the bed, feeling too content to even consider it much.

Your presence was easy to sense within the home due to the fact you didn’t bother to mask it from the demon slayer. The trust between the two of you was oddly strong despite the strange nature of its founding.

It didn’t alarm Giyuu when you entered what he could only assume to be a guest bedroom. In your hands was a bowl of pork cutlet, well seasoned with some vegetables on the side. The exhausted demon slayer took the bowl of food with a thankful nod.

As he ate he was able to hear your voice for the first time as you asked him a simple question.

“Your name?” ah, of course your voice would be as attractive as your appearance. The mere sound of it had turned the tips of Giyuu’s ears pink once more as he replied in a soft voice.

“Tomioka Giyuu.” It was a short response but he was happy to see that you didn’t mind his lack of verbalization. You gave him your name in return and he nodded, finishing up his meal with eagerness.

You chuckle softly as you take his empty bowl away and at the same time set down a glass of water. Giyuu smiled softly to himself, hiding it behind the rim of the cup as he took a grateful drink.

This was some of the most gentle treatment he had received after years of tough training, bloodshed and ostracization from his fellow slayers. So he couldn’t help but feel at ease around you, despite your status as an uppermoon demon.

You couldn’t help but feel similarly with his own status as a high ranking demon slayer, a hashira. The two of you didn’t feel like you were in danger when you were around each other which was out of the ordinary but at the same time pleasing.

It was quite comforting to finally be able to form a meaningful connection with someone after all these years.

The wounds he had allowed himself to sustain during a recent mission were now rebandaged, Giyuu noticed. You had spent the time wrapping his arm and waist in fresh white bandages, making the hashira feel a warmth growing in his chest.

Those seemingly small things were quite a gentle and thoughtful thing for a demon to even consider doing, he thought. So the fact that you did it made it all the more special to him.

You had left Giyuu to his thoughts for a little while as you cleaned his dish before putting it away.

You returned to his side not long after and this time the two of you didn’t stay separated for long. Soon you were seated on the comfortable duvet cover of the bed Giyuu had been resting in, looking over at him.

A slight shift in his posture edged his hand just a little closer to your body, a silent invitation for you to take hold of it.

And that you did, your cooler hand slipped into his rather warm and calloused one, gently running your thumb over the top of it as Giyuu allowed his deep blue eyes to flutter shut. Soft touches were so rare in Giyuu’s profession and he was really feeling that fact now.

Some might consider him touch starved, which he couldn’t disagree with. So when you gave him that gentle touch Giyuu could find himself craving more and more. He didn’t care about being greedy and honestly, neither did you.

So a simple hand touch soon turned into you rubbing his arm then to the two of you in a joined embrace on that soft bed. It was painfully comfortable, lying there with Giyuu. So the two of you remained wrapped in each other’s arms for a while longer.

Your hands eventually found his dark black hair, undoing the ponytail it was currently in, letting it hang loose. Giyuu hummed in question only to be met by you slipping down into a lying position on the bed and opening your arms for him.

Who was he to refuse the demon that took him in? So of course he allowed his body to sink against your’s, letting out a soft breath of content when you begin rubbing slow circles on his back. It didn’t bother him that he was without a shirt at that moment, not at all.

All that mattered was being snuggled against you, being pressed so comfortingly against your demonic body. Giyuu loved that you welcomed him into your arms, that you rubbed his back and tended to his wounds. That you cared to make him feel this way.

And maybe.. Perhaps you would also care enough to make him feel better in another way. That thought seeped into his mind with no warning nor invitation but once it was in it made itself a home. Giyuu couldn’t get the thought of you doing such a sinful and loving thing.

Your eyes were busy gazing at his face, admiring his beautiful features. Once he looks up at you he instantly notices how you’re watching him with that sweet look on your face. Instantly he felt blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. You giggle softly at his reaction and cup his cheeks in your hands, gently squeezing them.

“May I?” you inquire with a quiet breath before smiling when Giyuu nods his head. Your lips meet his own soft ones in a tender kiss. 

It’s calm at first until Giyuu leans into it more, urging you to take that next step. Of course, who were you to deny him? So your tongue meets his own, exploring his mouth for the first time that night.

Giyuu was so needy yet so inexperienced, he didn’t know where to place his hands and was messily copying the motions of your tongue. 

So you take the lead, your hands holding his waist possessively, rubbing all over his skin and bandages with a firm touch.

He tasted so sweet and his little muffled whines were so adorable to listen to. It was so hard to take this slow but you knew that he needed it that way, despite his cold facade he was quite a sensitive thing.

His body remained on top of yours but in no way was the hashira in control, he had relinquished that the moment he fell into your arms. 

You eventually sat up with Giyuu in your lap, clinging to you like you’d vanish if he were to let go.

Giyuu felt his air supply running low so reluctantly he parted from your lips, gasping for breath soon after. Your smile never faded and your hands never left his body, they rubbed his waist slowly before eventually grasping it in full.

Your grip wasn’t particularly firm nor possessive at the moment and even so Giyuu could feel warmth pooling in his tummy from the mere touch. It wasn’t long before you sunk your lips back against his, pulling him into another searing kiss.

It was just so perfect that the hashira couldn’t resist attempting to clumsily roll his hips, not knowing what to do but feeling a tightness growing in his pants. After your lips separate for a second time you don’t waste a moment in placing hands on Giyuu’s hips to guide him properly.

A soft whimper escaped his lips, it was breathy and pure, so painfully pure to you. You had to have more, Giyuu was just so stunning when he was like this, after all. Your hands picked up the pace, making the slayer gasp in moderate surprise before leaning his head into the crook of your neck.

You didn’t mind because in that position you could hear each and every sound that Giyuu let out. Every breathy gasp and quiet whimper were easily picked up by you, driving you forward.

Giyuu bit down on his bottom lip out of pure instinct. He was practically in heaven, or so he thought. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself- or you, from continuing the passion that was slowly unfolding in this quaint bedroom; hidden away from the rest of Japan.

“Please, more.” he whispers to you in an almost bashful tone. You knew exactly what he desired and you weren’t about to deny your beautiful human anything, at least not yet. So you obey, unbuckling his belt and “accidentally” brushing your hand against the prominent bulge in his dark black pants.

Each touch of that nature had the water hashira tensing and sucking in a breath of surprise and need. You just had this air about you; it was driving him insane. If you could just do it, touch him there; where he needs it-

Giyuu squeaks at the soft smack that was laid against his now bare thigh. Your hand was quick to rub the soft skin there, of course; but it served as a reminder to be good, to not go off on his own. He needs to listen to you, of course he does; he has no idea what to do.

“Shh, just follow my lead. Listen, baby.” you mutter in reply to his soft pleading sounds. Giyuu swallows before nodding his head, he knows that he has to be good for you to get what he wants, somehow.

Ah, but it was so hard! He was sitting in your lap in only his fundoshi, rolling his hips at a pace you control and to top it off you were still fully clothed. Giyuu merely buried his face even more so against your neck, choosing to stay quiet.

But that just wouldn’t do, would it? No; he needs to voice what he wants with you. You shift him in your lap, placing your thigh between his own so that he can get more friction against his bulge as you whisper teasingly in his ear.

“You want something, what is it?” he tenses slightly as his cheeks flush more. He should’ve known that you would figure it out; after all he wasn’t good at hiding anything from you, clearly. Swallowing his shyness after a moment he replies,

“You still.. Have all your clothing on…” so that was what he was thinking about? How sweet. You chuckle in light amusement before giving him one guided hip roll against your thigh.

“Then take it off.” you reply without missing a beat, making the hashira pause and look up at you with slightly glazed over blue eyes and a confused expression on his face. However that confusion soon turns into blush as he looks down- avoiding your gaze as he nods his head.

With trembling hands he pulls both your kimono and under-kimono open, revealing your chest to his flustered but oh so hungry gaze. You had removed your haori long before settling down in bed with the hashira so now all that remained was your kimono, obi and hakama pants.

Next Giyuu unties your obi with unsure hands. You take the fabric from him and look into his eyes, clearly uninterested in what becomes of it because of the lust that was starting to get to you.

The hashira swallows before continuing to help you undress and slowly, piece by piece, your stunning body is revealed.

But he can’t have all of the fun, can he? So you toy with the edge of his fundoshi for a little while, making Giyuu blush even further before eventually pulling it off. The hashira instinctually covers his erection with his hands, embarrassment flooding through his face.

You smirk softly and take his hands in yours, bringing them away from covering anything. You lay soft kisses on his knuckles as well, smiling at the way he was blushing because of it.

A soft whisper, or rather plea of your name here and there, had your patience nearly snapping. But you had to remind yourself that your baby didn’t know any better, not yet. Giyuu was just calling out for you, wanting you closer, wanting more of your touch; wanting more of you.

“Press your back to my chest.” you instruct in a calm voice, Why were you so calm and collected? Giyuu was blushing so much that he thought his skin was on fire at this point. You really were going to ruin him; though he obeys nonetheless. With his back flush against your chest you wrap your arms loosely around his waist.

You slide one hand to his erect cock while the other trails further up, playing with one of his soft pink nipples.

A light pinch with the first stroke of his cock has Giyuu’s hands flying up to cover his mouth. But even then he isn’t able to hide his squeal from you. You rub your hand up and down the length of his dick, occasionally circling his tip with the pad of your thumb.

“None of that now, darlin’. I want to hear every sound you make.” you whisper, your voice almost a soft hiss. You had to resist being just a bit harsher in your words with him because you knew Giyuu wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

Besides, you had other things planned for tonight…

Giyuu nods meekly as he lowers his hands, instead balling them up into fists as your hand picks up its pace. Another moan is pulled out of the hashira as you give his nipple a sharp tug.

Ah, his bare shoulder is just too tempting for you to not bite… So you lean in and sink your teeth, albeit quite gently for a demon, into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from him.

“HnGAH?!~” another bite, another squeal or cry. It was an addicting cycle but you eventually began licking over the marks you had already left, not wanting to be too rough quite yet. Your hand also never stopped, driving Giyuu closer and closer to orgasming.

Your fingers leave his chest to press against his lips, coaxing him to suck on them and coat them with his saliva. For what? He doesn’t know yet; though he will soon. He arches his back, hipping bucking into your hand as he feels the coil about to snap.

“Close, close!~” is all of the muffled warning you get before the hashira comes, pearly white cum staining your hand. You hum, bringing it to your lips to taste much to Giyuu’s embarrassment.

“Mmpfh!” he protests, wordlessly, due to the fingers currently playing with his tongue. You merely hum in response, finding the taste of your darling to be quite pleasant. Looking down into his flustered eyes makes you chuckle softly before giving him a kiss on the head in response.

“Sorry, hun. Couldn’t resist tasting you.” you chuckle quietly before pulling the two fingers you had in the hashira’s mouth out. They were thoroughly coated in saliva now and perfect for what you intended to use them for.

You let Giyuu get another whine out before flipping him to lay with his chest flush against yours once again.

Giyuu can’t help but feel quite comfortable in this position, being able to hold onto you- practically hug you all while feeling your bare skin against his was something he was never going to get tired of.

Your dry hand slowly finds its place on Giyuu’s perky ass, giving it a few rubs before lightly pressing your two wet fingers against his hole.

He sucks in a nervous breath, never having been penetrated before; only jacking off when he was alone at times. But you’re there to soothe his worries, of course you are. You’ve been so sweet to him this entire time.

“Shhh, it’s alright. I’ll go slow, okay?” you murmur in a soft voice before laying another gentle kiss on the hashira’s forehead. Giyuu nods his head as he looks up at you with wide trusting eyes, squeezing them shut when you push your finger in, burying the first knuckle in his warmth. He was grateful you were adding them one at a time as he wasn’t sure if he could take them in from the beginning at once.

“Ngh.. ahn~” his moans are like little mumbles as he smushes his face into your chest, hands holding onto your back as he pushes back on your finger slightly.

Soon enough another knuckle is in him, then another until your middle finger is completely inside.

Giyuu shifts his hips slightly, trying to get used to the sensation of having something inside him like this.

“I’m going to add another finger, alright?” you warn quietly, only acting when Giyuu gives a little nod in response. You slowly ease your middle finger out of him before readjusting so that both your middle and ring fingers slip into the first knuckle. Giyuu lets out a soft hum of pleasure, shifting his hips to let you know that he wants you to continue.

And you do, you ease those two fingers until they’re fully inside of him and at that point the hashira is moaning softly into your chest. You kiss the top of his head as you begin moving them in and out at a nice and slow pace, allowing him to get used to the sensations he’s receiving.

Your fingers work diligently, pressing deep within him every time you move them back in. Occasionally you spread them apart to loosen his muscles, to which he lets out a moan or whine, depending on the distance between your fingers.

Soon enough the tips of your fingers pad against a soft little bump that causes Giyuu to squeal and arch his back without warning. His eyes fly open for a moment before his body shudders and once more clings onto your own.

“Is that where it feels the best?” you ask him, not expecting to receive an answer as your fingers prod away at that sensitive spot. Giyuu can’t answer, his voice too busy being used for moans and whines from the stimulation he was receiving at your hand; or rather, fingers.

Though, to your surprise Giyuu manages a slight nod in response to your question. How sweet… you just had to tease him a little bit, of course. So you press nice and firmly against that spot, not taking your fingers off  like before.

“NYAGH!~ Whu-wai-” his moans are like a sweet melody to your ears, he’s begging, pleading with you. It’s too much, he really isn’t used to these types of touches.

So when you finally return to your normal pace he slumps down against your chest again, whining and whimpering to himself.

You eventually find that he’s been stretched enough, though you’re still thoughtful about how his body will react to the real thing. So you reach over to the nightstand and retrieve a bottle of oil.

You pour a decent amount onto his already twitching hole, noticing how he squirms slightly from the feeling. You kiss him on the forehead, whispering a soft reassurance before spreading the oil along his walls.

His hands still grab at your arms, your chest, your back; whatever he can get at he’s instantly clinging onto. He whines softly when you remove your fingers, having grown used to the sensations they provided.

“It’s okay, darling..” you whisper in his ear, your voice calm with barely concealed lustful hunger. A soft sigh makes its way from Giyuu’s lips, signaling the fact he was quite content in your arms.

However a soft gasp does slip past his lips as he feels your tip pressing teasingly against his slick and oiled rim, as if you did such a thing just to hear him moan more.

Your teasing movement was met with a tremor of Giyuu’s legs and his face being pressed against your neck. It was sweet that he was acting so shyly when only a few moments ago he had pleaded with you, whispering your name in that breathy voice of his.

But you could only tease Giyuu for so long, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take much of it without proper training.

So you gently grab ahold of his hips, squeezing them lightly as you guide him to slide down on your cock. A choked whine sounds from Giyuu’s lips as his hands squeeze you, holding on for dear life.

“Ah! Feels.. W-weird.. Mngh..” he slurs into your neck, hands still squeezing you as tightly as he could manage. You hum softly in response, eyes focusing on the hashira’s hips.

Giyuu shifts around in your lap, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. Soft whimpers leave his lips every time you readjust him slightly, getting him into place.

“Hngh.. move? P-please?” He asks, innocent eyes looking up into your own demonic inscribed one. How adorable. He was just too cute to say no to.

You hum and place a lingering kiss on Giyuu’s already sweaty forehead as you buck your hips up into him.

Soon enough you move your beauty onto the bed so that he can relax on his back, arms and legs wrapped around your body as you move your hips at a slow and smooth pace.

You thrust your hips forward, driving your cock into the hashira’s tight heat again and again so that you can soak up the sweet moans Giyuu lets out. They’re heavenly to listen to, sounding like a siren’s call.

“Good boy, you’re doing so good.” you whisper in his ear as your hips keep moving, continuing to thrust your cock deep into his hole.

Heat spreads over Giyuu’s cheeks as he clenches around your dick at the praise, making you unable to resist pressing a kiss to his soft lips again.

He bucks his hips up to meet your every thrust as you pick up the pace you were moving at, now bullying his prostate perfectly.

“Mnghh~ close…” he murmurs between moans that continue to grow in volume, signifying the truth behind his words.

“I know baby, I know.” you reply with a few more strong thrusts of your hips, driving Giyuu closer and closer to his peak.

With one more harder movement of your hips Giyuu let out a wail, cum spurting from the tip of his cock as his nails dug into your back.

You made the choice to not allow yourself to heal the marks that the demon slayer was leaving on your back, you wanted to be able to admire them in the morning after all.

However you don’t stop your hips there, no. Giyuu was just too cute and warm for you to be able to control yourself. The hashira let out a startled moan before sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his sounds.

He only let go to whine out, “t’much! ‘Soo m-muhhch!~” How sweet. It was adorable to hear him whine about everything being too intense for him to handle but at the same time thrusting his own hips up to meet your harsh pounding.

Tears cascade down the Hashira’s face, making him seem even more pathetically cute than before. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as you hit that sweet spot over and over again, causing his dick to harden once more.

He can feel himself growing closer despite having come not that long ago. You were just too good, too perfectly attuned to all of his needs.

A second orgasm rips through him, causing him to arch his back and let out a filthy moan that's soon silenced by your lips connecting with his. It's so much, it's too much!

Giyuu feels like he’s drowning in the best pleasure imaginable. Though he expects you to stop now, after all you’ve gotten him to cum twice tonight and that's quite a lot for him, at least.

But you don’t, you keep going and even pick up your pace slightly. It punches sweet little “Uh uh uh”’s out of the poor thing, making it clear to you that he’s too fucked out to whine about it.

Your hand comes down to hold onto his chin, making him look up at you with that oh so pretty fucked out expression of his.

“Hm, you can take another round, can’t you baby?” you ask, the question obviously rhetorical as both him and you know that his brain is too mushy to answer you.

Instead Giyuu gives a weak whine of protest before holding onto you tighter. Though, his body is a stark contrast of the complaint he had just let out; he’s wiggling his hips, urging you to continue moving your own.

So with a soft chuckle you continue, slamming your cock deep into him, ramming so far inside that Giyuu swears that he’s seeing stars.

“AHN!- mnHN~.. ‘Omgohhhdddd!-" The hashira’s voice is broken up by his heavenly moans, unable to stop himself as you continue giving all the pleasure that you could possibly give him.

Your stamina is downright insane, though what could Giyuu expect. After all, you are one of the higher ranking uppermoon demons.

Even then, you can feel your pace slipping as your thrusts grow sloppier- more intense in pace and less like the strong, deep and practiced ones you had done prior.

“‘M close, baby. Want me to fill you up some more, Giyuu? Hmm?” You murmur into his ear, your breath hot and heavy as you breathe in Giyuu’s intoxicating scent.

Giyuu nods fervently in response as he screws his deep blue eyes shut. His cheeks are all rosy and stained with dried tear marks, making him all the more adorable.

He hiccups as you finally slow your pace, hips moving slower as you cradle his shaking body close to your own.

Oh? It appeared he had cum for a third time from that sloppy pace. What a sensitive thing he is.

You kiss Giyuu’s forehead, finding it drenched in sweat with his black bangs sticking to his. He looks up at you with a dazed look when you finally slow to a stop before closing his eyes again.

A smile finds its way onto your lips as you pull out of him, making him gasp, arching his back for one last time.

Giyuu whines softly, opening those tired eyes of his again as he searches for your touch.

“Mmngh.. Stay…” The hashira murmurs, calling out for you in that sweet and quiet voice of his.

How could you refuse? So of course you wrap yourself around his weakened body.

You use a soft cloth you dipped in the lukewarm water that had been sitting out in a glass to clean the cum from Giyuu’s tummy. 

Your touch is gentle as you clean him up as best you can for the moment, after all the poor thing was much too tired for a proper wash.

In return the hashira snuggles up to you, peppering shy kisses to your neck as a thank you for the night as he was much too tired to talk.

You release a quiet purr in return, it's a sweet and gentle sound which makes it soothing for Giyuu to listen to.

The hashira curls up properly after you set the cloth down, feeling quite content to be wrapped in your arms like this.

He falls asleep quite quickly, clearly your shared night of intimacy had gotten to him quite quickly.

You merely smile and lay another kiss on him, this time to the top of Giyuu’s head.

“How sweet…” You whisper to yourself. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to prolong this… relationship.

#sub character #kny smut #kny #sub kny #dom reader #demon slayer #kny x you #smut #n/sfw #giyuu #sub giyuu #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka #dumb wh0re #demon x #demon x human

[aireia]

Oh universe! — What happens when you fall in love with the vice president of the student council?

tw/cw: gn! reader, fluff + crack(?). gojo's an idiot. not proofread + rushed. author is stupidly sick, fic makes zero sense.

note: don't expect too much from this fic D: —masterlist

The universe has a love-hate relationship with Satoru. No, screw that, it’s against Satoru Gojo. It’s against his relationship between him and the person standing beside him in the student council room, because he can no longer count how many times he’s tried to confess to you, and gotten interrupted by another student pulling you or him away. 

Now, he knows both of you are busy as leaders in the student council, and he’s fairly popular too, but that doesn’t have any business to meddle with his love life! Especially because he’s also lost track of how much money he’s spent on these failed confessions – excluding the tubs of ice cream he buys after each one to comfort himself. (Suguru and Shoko have to take some away from him to prevent him from eating that much sugar.)

“How many is that?” Suguru asked his brunette friend as they both stared out the window at the scene of you being dragged away by students while Satoru sighed in defeat. “I dunno, sixth? Maybe seventh? We just need to make sure he doesn’t eat enough desserts to get himself sick. Y/n told me something about a meeting they would be having tomorrow about our graduation trip.” “Just bribe him with the fact that they’re going to be there. He’ll be sure to return back to whatever he’s on before all the confessions.”

-

“Really?!” Satoru’s eyes lit up right before he managed to grab the 2nd tub of strawberry ice cream. “...Are you really the president of the student council? How do you not know about this?” “I was only focusing on y/n when they said the news.” 

That caused both his friends’ faces to contort into disgust. Maybe they shouldn’t have told him and let him miss the meeting instead, but you’d probably be kind enough to find him before the meeting and drag him there.

-

“A trip to the mountains…” you mumbled to yourself as you scanned through the papers that were handed out during the meeting. You had been assigned to take care of accommodations. Satoru, on the other hand, was devastated . He had been assigned to take care of the food. No doubt all of you would be getting kikufuku for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for three days straight.

That would’ve been the case, if he didn’t drag you to multiple cafes to plan the trip. Granted, he did treat you to a lot of your favourite snacks and drinks, so going out with him wasn’t that bad. 

The both of you sat in silence most of the time, surprisingly. Sometimes the snowy haired male would sneak in some small talk, but the only time you spoke half the time would be for each other’s opinions. Satoru tried to get you to agree to the worst diets you’ve seen in your entire life. You rejected. 

You tried to propose a few spots to stay in. and Satoru agreed to most of them, though you scrapped your own ideas just moments after he agreed. 

-

You breathed out through your mouth, watching as puffs of smoke escaped your lips. You were standing on the balcony of your room. Staring at the city you call home from the mountains. 

“There you are.” Someone draped a blanket over your trembling body. It’s Satoru, you noted. You could recognise his voice even in a room full of people. “You made a good choice choosing this place. The view is pretty.” Satoru sang words of praise to you, joining you on the balcony. 

“Thank you,” you responded, not bothering to look at him. A long period of silence ensued between the both of you, and Satoru found it to be torture. You’re alone, right? That means he can confess. But how? He looks at your lips. They’re trembling from the cold. 

“Your lips look cold. Do you think I could warm them up for you?” his words spilled out before he processed it. You looked at him weirdly before laughing.

“Is that… How you confess to people?” you continued to laugh, and it reminded him of the first breeze of spring. Playful, calm, refreshing from the cold from winter. Once he realised what he had said, he choked on air and stuttered out, “It’s not! I swear it’s just–” Satoru tried to find the words to explain himself, his head now working overtime to search for the vocabulary that left his mind when these types of situations happened. 

You grinned and cupped his cheeks before pulling him down to gently kiss him, only pulling away once the both of you had relaxed. You couldn’t help but smile at the dust of pink on his face. You were sure there were some on your cheeks too.

“Yea, it is warmer now.”

Maybe the universe isn’t all that against him after all.

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

#signed by aireia! #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #ju #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

[daenaera-t]

The Bastard Queen

ACT1:CHAPTER 1

WARNING:none at the moment summary: Another babe is born to the princess.

The sun was bright, currently hiding behind the white fluffy-looking clouds in the beautiful and bright blue sky that was evident above the kingdom of Kings Landing, the castle standing tall and proud as it had been over the years way before half the people in the kingdom living were even born at the moment.

The streets were crowded outside the wall of Red Keep as the markets were full of civilians trying to buy stuff for themselves and their families as children's laughter could be heard all around, the little people running around and bumping into the adults, ignoring their scolding that the adults were giving them as they continued to chase after one another and there pet animal they had.

Inside the old-looking castle, attendants and guards could be seen all around as the servants did their chores and the guards stood against the walls, postures straight while keeping an eye out for any trespassers that were to come and injure the royal family. The sounds of chatters could be heard all around the castle, people speaking about the princess and her new born son and the youngest child out of her four children that she had, now three of them being boys while one of them being a girl.

In one of the many rooms in Red Keep, three children could be seen inside as they played together while waiting for their mother to return, their biological father in the room with them. Ser Harwin Strong watched as his two sons and daughter played the game they had been playing for the past couple minutes, hoping his lover was alright. It was then that their attention went to the door as the princess and her husband walked inside. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen smiled when she made eye contact with Harwin, who stood up to his feet, smiling through the pain she was in she made her way to him.

Ser Laenor Velaryon trailed behind his wife, gently rocking the new born babe in his arms as the children grew excited at the sight of their mother. The only daughter of Rhaenyra , Daenaera Velaryon, was the first up to her feet as both her twin brother and little brother followed behind her.Jacaerys Velaryon, dropped the dragon toys he had been playing with down and was quick to follow behind his twin sister.And the second youngest, Lucerys Velaryon, quickly grabbed a hold of the skirt of his sister's dress so he wasn't too far behind, making sure to not tug too hard that it'll rip while they rushed to the spot where the egg they had picked for their new sibling. 

Daenaera grabs a hold of the lid of the object, lifting it up to reveal the hot dragon egg they had chosen.

"We chose an egg for the baby." Lucerys tells her.

Rhaenyra lets out a pained chuckle, sitting down on one of the sofas with the help of her lover. 

"That looks like the perfect one."

"I let Jace and Luke choose." Daenaera informs.

The sizzling sound could be heard as the smoke was rising from the pot just as Lucerys was slowly reaching a hand forward to touch the egg.

However, Daenaera and Jacaerys were quick to grab a hold of his hand before he could burn himself, to which he snapped it back and towards his chest before Daenaera placed the lid back on. 

Glancing to her mother, the girl moves around her brothers until she was seating herself beside her mother.

"Not everyday an egg leaves the Dragonpit, Princess." Harwin states. "I thought it best to escort the children."

"Laenor and I thank you, Commander." Rhaenyra replies.

Harwin nods, looking to his son. "Another boy, I heard."

"What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?" Laenor mumbles to the babe.

"Might I?" Harwin asks.

"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey." Rhaenyra tells her husband.

Looking up from the infant, Laenor replies with a curt nod as he gently places the new born child, a child they named Joffrey after Ser Laenor's very first lover, in Ser Harwin's arms. Rhaenyra watched with a tired smile before she felt a smaller hand be placed on hers, making her look beside her to see her only daughter staring at her in concern.

"Are you alright, Mother?" Daenaera questions in concern.

Rhaenyra smiles, tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "I will be, my darling. For now, I am just glad to see you."

The older princess caresses her daughter's dark hair, both smiling at one another as Rhaenyra leans forward and presses a kiss to her daughter's forehead. It was when Lucerys questioned his father if he could hold Joffrey that had them looking over to see the second youngest reach up to his younger brother, but Harwin had been quick to use a hand to slightly push the boys hand away, not wanting to wake up the babe while Laenor moved the boys to the door, looking to the girl he thought of as his daughter, giving her a slight look.

Pressing a quick kiss to her mother's cheek, Daenaera walked past the two adults and out the door with her brothers as Ser Laenor closed the door behind them. Laenor led the three children to the Dragonpit where the two sons of the king and the queen were already at. Prince Aegon II Targaryen smiled at the sight of the Velaryon girl when they made eye contact, not noticing his younger brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen, moved his lips as he made a gagging  sound, while rolling his eyes at the sight of the loves truck gaze in his older brother's eyes.

The sounds of chains echoing throughout the dark Dragonpit could be heard, followed by the squeaky sounds of one of the many dragons inside the pit as two men walked along either side of a dragon, their grips tight on the chains. One of the trainers placed a hand on Jacaerys back, moving him forward a bit while the prince stared at his dragon, Vermax.

The sound of Aegon yawnig rather loudly could be heard, but no one seemed to pay any mind to that as Jacaerys took at least two more steps forward. He glanced over his shoulder at his sister, who nodded at him with a small smile before he looked back forward. Reaching up, Lucerys placed his smaller hand in his twin sister's, feeling her hold it back as he leaned into her. The men soon let go of the chains when they were told to, no one seeming to be scared that Vermax was now loose as the creature made its way towards the prince Jacaerys.

"Call Vermax to Heel, Prince Jacaerys." One of the trainers instruct.

"Dohaeris!" Jacaerys calls out in High Valyrian.

Vermax comes to a stop, standing tall as he and the prince stare at one another before the creature let out a slight roar, stepping forward and that had Jacaerys stepping back while commanding the dragon to halt in High Valryian, to which the dragon obeyed. Someone soon walked in with a goat tied to a rope, the sound of the animal catching the dragon's attention.

Vermax ignored Jacaerys as he moved towards the goat when it was tied up, two workers placing their sticks in front of the dragon to stop.

One of the trainers voices explained that they should learn to hold mastery over their dragon, just like Aegon had learned with his own dragon, and once they were fully bounded to their owner, they wouldn't take instructions from anyone else.

"Can I say it?" Jacaerys asks, receiving a nod as he looks at the others excitedly before stepping forward. "Dracarys, Vermax!"

The two workers moved out of the way as Vermax walks towards the goat, standing up a bit before it was blowing out fire, burning the animal in front of him alive. The others all watch and hear as a screech escapes the goat before Vermax came to a stop, stomping forward until he was leaning down and eating the now lifeless and burnt animal. Patting Jacaerys' shoulder, the trainers walked off with the others as the children ventured to the end of the dark part of the Dragonpit.

"Aemond, we have a surprise for you." Aegon informs his brother, making Daenaera look at him curiously.

Aemond furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"Something very special." Lucerys excitedly replies before he was running forward, the others following behind in a walking pace.

"You're the only one of us without a dragon." Aegon points out, getting a nod. "And we felt badly about it, so we found one for you."

Aemond raises a brow. "A dragon? How?"

Aegon shrugs. "The gods provide."

While he didn't show it, the young prince found himself being hopeful at the thought of them finding a dragon for him, even if it wasn't likely.

Looking to his left, he examined Daenaera's face to see if she hadn't known about this. Snorts echoed from the darkness within the Dragonpit, followed by Lucerys pants as he ran up the ramp, a rope in his hand.

Aemond's shoulders dropped, his hands dropping to his sides at the sight of a very chubby and pink-looking pig instead of a dragon. Daenaera rolls her eyes at the makeshift wings they had made out of hay and tied it to the animal.

"Behold-" Aegon begins.

"The Pink Dread!" All of them, other than Daenaera, exclaim before their laughter could be heard.

"Be sure to mount her carefully. First flight's always rough." Aegon states.

And with that, he let out a loud pig snort in his little brother's ear, causing Jacaerys and Lucerys to laugh even more before they did the same as well, walking off afterwards, their laughter echoing throughout the Dragonpit. Reaching over, Daenaera gently squeezes Aemond's hand, making him look at her before she walks off, ready to scold her brother's for following Aegon's lead and taunting Aemond, all while the said prince watches her leave.

#fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #fanfiction #oc #aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon aemond #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys i targaryen #rhaenyra targeryan #daemon targeryan #jace velaryon #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #original character #alicent hightower #Spotify

[sgiandubh]

Fuck this shitshow...This is it.

Dear This Is It Anon,

You mean this, right?

Lest they would think as they all collectively do, with the shared single braincell they use across the street, we are hiding shite under the carpet. Not my method, Anon, off - and online.

So, ok. He was there. We were on perhaps the worst case scenario, probability-wise, on that one: 50/50, which is sort of mildly excruciating, right?

I can only encourage you to watch that clip, Anon. There are always nuances in the worst of bullshit situations. Yes, she is smiling. Briefly to T (this page founds a lie beyond ridiculous) and then to the winner:

Yes, she looks relaxed enough. But never forget she is an actress, after all, at a professional event. What did you expect her to do, sulk? I know, it happened before, when she was perhaps way less thrilled, but people change and they learn from their mistakes. Narrative wise, her being awkward around McElusive was a PR mistake that had to be corrected/properly retconned. This seems to be the case, now, with a more natural attitude.

But you can fumble around and manipulate only that much of a given situation. The giveaway, to me, in this is TMcG (the hour is solemn, no jokes around, please) - still the same unkempt, DGAF, 70s called outfit, plus looking really, really strange. Unlike many on our side, I shall not elaborate - there is no need to. Yet it is plain to see something is unwell, especially when compared to the cortisone prosperity of the last sighting. Don't get me wrong: I have no ill wish towards this person. I just can't help but notice something is amiss, in all this forced, calculated, propagandistic Joy.

I am also fully aware there are many mean eyes watching me from the shadows across the street, Anon. I mean, seriously, BIF?

Of course, that is your page and you can write what the hell you want. Choosing to quote me was a rather successful ambush. Remember, however (really LOL, always LOL): wars are not won with just tactics. Ok, you have a questionable edge on this one - a wasted battle.

Wars are won with good strategy and a synoptic, not fragmented vision (making a huge affair out of each and every single detail), of the state of play. You may be a decent tactician, perhaps, but you are a lousy strategist.

Oh, and to think you are planning a get together at the Paris Landcon, too, eh? How nice and how copy/paste of you, folks. I wonder what you expect, a fucking remake of West Side Story?

I could say good afternoon and even shake your hand anytime, BIF. But I bet you wouldn't. You're a tiny, hateful person with an overinflated ego, like that.

Sorry, Anon, for the rant. I tried to be as objective as I could, under biased circumstance and harsh scrutiny. I just hope this brought more clarity.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hear ye, hear ye! I come with a spicy request most worthy of a several year sentence in Horny jail! XD

Bottom villain x top hero, where the two are in an enemies with benefits kinda situationship, and this time seems like it’s gonna be no different (rough and kinda mean). But then, gasp, it’s revealed the villain was recently injured, and the hero gets pretty concerned. The villain insists on things continuing as normal, but the hero, not wanting to hurt their nemesis, changes things up, and does em sweet, slow, and gentle <3

“Ready?” All it took was this one word to activate the villain’s entire nervous system.

Usually, the hero didn’t lose many words over this. It was quick and rough. For the most part, that made it desirable. Sleeping with the enemy was thrilling and more or less like an adrenaline kick for the villain. It was a luxury they could afford. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t have to either.

The hero was proficient and smart. They had figured out what the villain liked and what they didn’t like in the first few hookups they had spent together. If it hadn’t been for their stupid righteousness and their sense of justice that would never be just, they would’ve probably made a great partner. In bed at least.

Admittedly, the villain had thought about that a few times. Would the hero be a good lover? Someone who was willing to save everyone if they could? Someone who would put others before themselves constantly? Someone who may choose a city over a person?

After all, probably not. And even if they were, who would want the villain? Someone rotten, someone broken, someone—

“You’re distracted.”

“Oh, yes. Yeah, sorry.” The hero’s hand ran along the villain’s inner thigh and even though the stitches should have been good enough, the villain was nervous.

How on earth was anyone supposed to stitch the back of their thigh anyway?

They grabbed the hero’s muscly shoulders and tried to steady themselves.

“Alright.” The hero’s hand travelled down the villain’s thigh until they reached their knee. From there, they grabbed the hollow of the villain’s knee. “I have a meeting in an hour, so I’ll need to be quick today.”

“Yes, of course,” the villain said. They watched as the hero handled their leg and put it on their own shoulder. Cold air hit their shin but they knew in a few seconds, they wouldn’t even need the blanket anymore. The villain swallowed and prayed the hero wouldn’t notice the stitches.

Although they pressed a soft kiss to the villain’s thigh, they barely broke eye contact. Immediately, the villain felt the blood rush to their head.

Sometimes they really needed the hero.

After a few more kisses, the hero leaned forward until the villain’s thigh was pressed between their naked chests. They were close again, close enough to kiss but the villain knew their nemesis never really did that. Kissing their body? Sure. Kissing the villain? On good days, maybe.

The villain found the position familiar and yet, their wound made it nearly impossible to enjoy it.

Eventually they pulled the hero closer, waiting for them to push themselves into them.

However. The thread snapped and the villain could feel how the wound ripped open again.

They let out an involuntary sigh and held onto the villain’s back. Accidentally, they left scratch marks on their enemy’s skin.

“Wait, I haven’t even…”

“No, it’s fine, sorry. Continue. Please,” the villain choked out between clenched teeth.

“Oh…wait, holy shit.” The hero looked down and all the villain had to see was smeared blood on the hero’s hand. “Was that me!?”

“Nononono, I’m so sorry. That was yesterday.”

“I’m gonna get a towel.”

“No.” The villain grabbed them before they could go. “I look forward to this day every week. Let’s just finish this quickly, the bleeding isn’t even that bad.”

“Listen, I know you’re strong but…” The hero put their hand on the cut to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t too bad but the pain was still excruciating. “…having sex while bleeding is counterproductive.”

“We’re already naked and you don’t have much time left.”

“I can cancel my meeting.”

“Please, let’s just—”

“As stubborn as ever, I suppose.” The hero made an expression close to a warm smile and at first, the villain didn’t quite understand. However, when the hero pushed the blanket against the wound and themselves into the villain at the same time, the villain couldn’t help but moan happily.

The hero’s fingers were gentler and their movements slower than usual. As if the villain was something very delicate.

“This is stupid,” the hero whispered. “Tell me if anything’s wrong.”

But the villain could barely listen. Despite the pulsating wound in their leg, they could only concentrate on the sweet pleasure the hero was giving them. It felt better than expected.

And then the villain leaned over, pressure still on the wound, to kiss them.

The villain had never felt this desired in their entire life. Their heart was pounding in their chest when they felt the hero’s tongue in their mouth.

They didn’t demand anything, they didn’t take anything. It was simple and raw pleasure that the hero gave them. As if they’d been waiting for this.

“You’re so stupid, do you know that?” the hero whispered against the villain’s skin when they had to catch new air.

“Oh, I—” The villain couldn’t even form a sentence. Their enemy was hitting good spots constantly. Instinctively, they reached for the hero’s neck to pull them closer.

“Promise me to tell me next time, got it?” the hero asked. They planted a trail of kisses down the villain’s throat and sucked on their skin softly.

“If you treat me like this again,” the villain answered between moans. They couldn’t think anymore. It felt better than it should have.

It felt good enough to fall in love.

The villain wanted to hate them for it. For their gentleness and their sweet voice but all the villain had on their mind was their nemesis on top of them.

“Every night, if you want to,” the hero promised. They smiled against the villain’s skin.

“I love you,” the villain mumbled. They hadn’t realised it. They wouldn’t even remember it.

But the hero would remember. And it was all they could think about for the next few months.

#your mouth is moving a lot like a rat. yappa yappa yappa #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #suggestive #whump #h/c

[spacebarbarianweird]

Dadstarion prompt:

Caretaker takes the kid to a fair, playground, restaurant or shopping, just spending the day and having fun together

Ha! Take that. Pure fluff. What could possibly go wrong??

Synopsis: Tiriel and Astarion take Alethaine to a fair.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff, a snippet into the future

Another fluffy thing I have written! And there is also a snippet into the distant future with adult Tiri who hasn't inherited her mother's macabre nature!

Alethaine's age - 12-years-old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Guide on How To Skin Monsters

Tiriel stops at the daggers’ stall. All of them look rather dull and Tiriel decides to search for something better for Astarion. Besides, he prefers to choose weapons for himself and Tiriel can always get something else – a book, jewelry, or a shirt. He always huffs when she brings him gifts, but she knows he is grateful for those little reminders of her care.

“Looking for something?” A merchant, a halfling woman, asks.

“Nothing in particular,” Tiriel says.

The halfling is definitely in the mood for talking and starts gossiping about a feud between two noble human houses, a serious plague “originated by giants” and someone’s wife cheating with an ork.

“Oh, and have you heard? There was a murder in Secomber! The whole family was slaughtered and by whom? A dhampir!”

Tiriel takes her eyes off the daggers.

“Yes! A half-vampire! Can you imagine sleeping with a vampire? But I think their mother was assaulted. Anyway, the dhampir grew up and slaughtered the whole family! Those half-undead are merciless cruel creatures, and they say there are so many of them!”

“Yeah… cruel monsters they are,” Tiriel mutters.

She heard of the slaughter, but there were no dhampirs or vampires involved. Just a young man possessed by a dryad. He was hanged a week later, but someone started spreading rumors his mother fucked a vampire and that’s why her child grew up so bloodthirsty. 

Tiriel feels pale hands hugging her waist from behind. Alethaine presses her face against her back – she is 12 but she is still cuddly as a little child.

“Oh, is this your daughter? Such an adorable little girl. How old is she?”

“Alethaine,” Tiriel touches her fingers.

“I am twelve,” she says, trying not to betray her fangs.

“Oh… I am sorry… didn’t notice she was an elf.” The merchant apologizes and then proceeds  to tell other gossip.  

“Have a nice day,” Tiriel says, taking Alethaine’s hand.

“You too! And beware the dhampirs!”

“Beware the dhampirs my ass,” Tiriel says, moving further away from the obnoxious halfling.

“I can bite her,” Alethaine suggests. She is twelve, but elves mature slower than humans and half-elves and Tiriel notices her daughter sometimes behaves like a younger child.

“No, we are not biting people we don't like.”

“Dad wouldn’t mind if I bit her!”

“Hm, good thing it’s daylight then!” Tiriel rubs Alethaine’s ear. She knows her daughter too well not to notice the merchant’s words upset her. 

Cruel merciless creatures? Alethaine cries her eyes out every time someone dies in the books she reads! Well, she mostly sympathizes with dragons and monsters – but also with orphan children, victims of arranged marriages and curses. 

And little dead animals. 

Little dead animals are a whole different story. It’s been three years, but Alethaine still feels sorry about an albino kitten killed by a stranger. The dhampir accidentally resurrected the pet and now Tiriel and Astarion also face the issue of raising a necromancer.

“Hey, don’t be sad!” Tiriel leans to a little dhampir. “Do you want anything?”

Alethaine doesn't answer. She stops by the book stall completely enchanted by a huge black volume covered in leather. 

How to Skin Monsters.

Aletaine immediately flips the pages, and Tiriel sees intricate and creepy pictures of the insides of different beasts and monsters. She’d fought many of them in her lifetime (beholders in the Underdark are still one of her worst memories), but never ever did she want to look at their remains, let alone study them.

“Hey, don’t touch it!'' The merchant tries to take the book away from Alethaine’s hands, but the dhampir keeps holding it with her iron grip. “I think this book is rather dark for a little lady like you.”

“Mum, look, the cover is made of human skin,” Alethaine casually says. “No. It’s half-elf actually.”

“No it isn’t!” The merchant protests. “It’s… wolfskin!”

Liar, Tiriel realizes. She has good perception skills, and the merchant lies. And the dhampir necromancer has already passed the verdict. 

Alethaine puts the book away and takes another one – a green volume with letters in Espruar. 

“Is it just a collection of stories or the real guide on Feywild?��” Alethaine asks. “People who have never messed with fey write all sorts of fairytale stuff about pink unicorns and fairies who grant wishes.” She opens the book which is written with trembling handwriting. “Oh, I see. Looks like a feverish nightmare. So the writer has been there.”

The book merchant looks at Tiriel with a facial expression she knows too well. 

What crypt did you find this child in?

“I have some ballads and traveler guides. Maybe...it is more for your age?” he asks

“Travelers guide on what places?”

“Icewind Dale, but it’s a rather uncomfortable read…”

“I’ve read about Icewind Dale,” suddenly something else attracts her attention and she points at a small book with a dragon on its cover. “Show me this!”

The merchant sighs in relief and reaches for the storybook. Tiriel looks at the pages – even though she still experiences issues with reading, she sees that it's just an adventure story about knights, princes, dragons, and treasure hunting.

Something her daughter stopped reading when she was five or six.

“I will take this too,” Alethaine declares.

“Eighty silver for all three,” the merchant says.

Too much, Tiriel thinks. Alethaine frowns but doesn’t try to bargain. For some reason, she is very shy when it comes to arguments.

“Thirty silver,” Tiriel intervenes. “And we are not telling anyone about the half-elf skin you’ve bound the book with.”

“It’s not made of anyone’s skin!”

“I can hear her screams,” Alethaine whispers, flipping the book pages. “They flayed her when she was still alive!”

The merchant gulps. Tiriel chuckles. So, this is true and the merchant knew it.

“All right. Thirty,” he mutters and Alethaine happily gives him the silver coins. 

Alethaine puts the books in her black bag and wishes the merchant good night. The man mutters something not appropriate for children’s ears.

“Did you catch the scent of the skin or it’s more like your necromancy skills?” Tiriel asks, taking her daughter’s hand as they stand by the stall with needles and threads. 

She shrugs. “I-I don’t know. Maybe both.”

“Do you know if Dad needs something to sew?” Tiriel still can’t really tell apart shades of the same color and all needles look the same to her. 

“Take the black threads,” Alethaine says, touching the samples of fabric. “He’s always out of them.”

Tiriel nods. She doesn’t know why and when Astarion decided to make all his daughter’s wardrobe black, but here they are. Alethaine got from black onesies to black dresses, from black nappies to black skirts, gloves, and coats. Only her shoes and boots aren’t made by Astarion - and they are as pitch dark as everything else.

A few hours later, at sunset, they sit on the grass outside the market. It’s a beautiful summer sunset and Tiriel adores the light. Alethaine sits on her traveling cape and takes out one of her new books. 

“Interesting?”

“Uh-um,” she nods, completely taken away.

Tiriel smiles to herself. She’s never been a stranger to violence and dark things – if you faint at the sight of a blood sacrifice, you won’t survive in the wilderness. But having a child like this takes everything to another level.

Death, dark arts, corpses – they have  a special appeal to Alethaine, the same one Tiriel feels towards fights.

The sun sets and Tiriel sits beside Alethaine. Darkvision allows her to see in gray colors and Tiriel sees a picture of the monster inside.

“All right, now I understand who all these people were who hired me to bring them certain parts of the beasts I killed.”

“Dad is coming,” she says. “Or another vampire, but I think Dad scared all of them away.”

Tiriel smiles. “Good thing vampires hate the presence of each other.” She stands up and approaches the edge of the hill. Yes, Alethaine is right – Astarion has left his daylight shelter in the nearby inn. She can see his silhouette from the distance – white hair and black armor she can’t mix with anyone else.

She waves to him and he quickens his steps. 

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs in her ear the moment he hugs her. Astarion pecks her cheek and Tiriel rubs his left ear.

“Dad! Look what I’ve bought!” 

Tiriel thinks Alethaine will show him the anatomy book, but, instead, she hands him the adventure story.

Astarion studies the first page, then another. Tiriel watches them carefully.

“I just don’t get it,” Alethaine admits. “Is it about how to enter the thieves’ guild or how to smuggle drugs?”

“None,” Astarion returns her the book. “It’s about how to find a job as a bounty hunter in Neverwinter.”

“Oh, I misread the symbols then,” Alethaine pouts.

“Wait, the book is in Thieves Cant?” Triel asks.

“Yes. Hidden deep under snotty stories,” Astarion answers. “And what are these two monstrosities?”

Alethaine proudly opens the anatomy book as Astarion studies the Feywild one. Tiriel barely prevents herself from laughing as she sees Astarion cringing at the pictures. Vampire or not, he saw so many disgusting and cruel things he hated looking at them. 

Then Alethaine yawns. 

“Let’s go home,” Tiriel says. It will take them till sunrise to return to Daggerlake. If they don't hurry they will need to set up a camp for the daylight - or leave Astarion behind which Tirel absolutely hates to do.

It’s not like it’s a big deal right now – thirty-two years since he gained his freedom, he has nothing to fear. More than that, Tiriel is sure there is simply no other monster in the area who could be a threat to Astarion. He is a vampire, an undead, a skilled rogue, a dangerous assassin.

But when he is alone, the nightmares slowly crawl back. The loneliness fuels his memories and there are so many of them. Thirty-two years are simply not enough. Astarion can handle that too – he’s learned to. But Tiriel doesn’t want him to face mental struggles if it can be avoided.

Alethaine walks in front of them and Tiriel takes Astarion’s hand in hers. They are her little family – everything she’s ever wished for. 

She looks at Astarion and notices his lips are squeezed and there is some anxiety in his eyes.

Hunger.

“Go for a hunt, we will wait for you”.

“Nonsense, let’s return home sooner.”

Tiriel doesn’t push it. They agreed years ago that Alethaine isn’t to see him dining on her mother (because it’s absolutely a sexual thing and must remain behind closed doors) and also that she shouldn’t see him feed on animals (because her dhamprisim might get awoken – blood will tempt her and they don’t want their daughter to become more a vampire then she already is).

Of course, she isn't stupid, she knows her father drinks blood. She often sees bite marks on Tiriel when she forgets to cover them – but the process remains out of sight.

It’s already sunrise when they reach Daggerlake and Astarion walks forward not to risk staying in the sun.

By the time they return home, Alethaine rushes upstairs to prepare for sleep. She sleeps a lot, even more than a human would – and Tiriel wonders how much dhampirism affects her sleeping habits.

“So, is the book really about how to be a mercenary?” Tiriel asks closing the door to the bedroom

Astarion has already put off his doublet and now sits on the bed watching Tiriel.

He waits.

“Yes. It was a guide on how to find people who will give her a job as a mercenary,” he slowly answers as if he had to concentrate on speaking. His eyes are focused on her neck. 

“And can she read this book?”

“She thought it was about smugglers and thieves. Her skills aren’t that good.”

Tiriel approaches Astarion and he tugs her closer, forcing her to sit on his lap.

Astarion is no longer a sweet caring elf – his predatory side is on the loose and he pierces her skin with his nails as the fangs are looking for the vein.

Tiriel wraps her hands around his neck and lets herself drown in painful pleasure. 

“Take as much as you need,” she murmurs. “I love you.”

She feels like falling into the warm dark void and, when she almost crosses the border of no return, the tender hands let her go and she finds herself on the bed with Astarion carefully applying a bandage on her fresh bite mark.

“Thank you,” he says, kissing her with his blood-stained lips.

“Will you stay with me when I sleep?”

“Of course,” he chuckles. “Besides Alethaine has occupied the bathroom – she isn't getting out any time soon”

“Oh… and I forgot…” Tiriel points at her bag. “I’ve bought you some black threads and new needles.”

Astarion kisses her cheek. “Such a caring and thoughtful wild girl. Now I have something to occupy myself with while you are asleep.” He takes her nightshirt from the floor. “Do you have anything in mind? I noticed you’ve ripped it.”

“Me? Astarion, you rip my clothes all the time!”

He unfolds the shirt showing the ripped collar. “Yeah, I agree. My fault. So, what patch do you want?”

“Maybe a dragon? A black one?”

Astarion covers her with a blanket – the one she uses when she sleeps alone – and sits on the floor with the shirt and the needle.

“I have a daughter who likes seeing monsters’ inside-outs and a wife who likes murdering monsters. Can someone in this family enjoy nice and cute things?” He pouts.

“Imagine Alethaine having a child who enjoys such things. She will pout then, ‘no one in her family has taste for macabre’”.

Astarion chuckles, and Tiriel wraps herself in the blanket. 

Safe. She feels safe. 

And loved.

**

Sewing has always helped Astarion to concentrate. It’s been centuries since he needed to shut the darkness up. Memories of his enslavement, memories of the misery have faded away and feel like a distant nightmare. 

But habits never truly go, and Astarion enjoys sewing patches and repairing clothes even though the old purpose of that process has long gone.

“You know, for someone who is an elf and was raised as an elf, you are very messy,” Astarion says looking at the ripped cape. It looks like it was chewed by a tarrasque.

“It’s not my fault! I was careful!” Tiri objects. She is making new arrows (as she lost the whole quiver while running from a particularly nasty behir in the Underdark the previous day).

Astarion chuckles. Tiri, his granddaughter, showed up at his place deep in the Fairgheight Range five years ago. Red-haired like her grandmother, she was eager to see the world beyond the Isle of Evermeet – and she still doesn’t show any desire neither to return to her parents nor leave him be and travel alone. 

“What patches do you want?” Astarion asks and takes his sewing kit from the traveling sack. 

“Well, I am an adult independent woman…” Tiri starts.

“You are thirty and you are an elf. You are basically a child.”

“Hm, you were a magistrate and mum would work for smugglers using her necromantic skills. Barely a child activity.”

“So?”

“I want a unicorn patch,” Tiri finally admits. “Or a butterfly. Don’t laugh, ar’o’su!”

“I don’t, damia,” Astarion finds white threads. “Besides, Alethaine has never been fond of cute and nice things.”

“Mum has her own idea of what is nice and what is cute,” Tiri touches a thin tiara on her hair. While all Tiri’s clothes are made according to Wood Elves traditions, her father’s ancestors, the tiara is pitch black and with a small skull in the center. It definitely belonged to Alethaine and then she just passed it to her only daughter. 

Tiri puts the new arrows on the ground and lies on her bedroll to reverie. Her drake, Aurix, immediately nestles on her chest like a cat.

Astarion casts a glance at his granddaughter. She has a certain similarity to Tiriel – and Astarion knows she would have loved her. But half-elves have such an offensive short life span in comparison with elves she had no chance to see little Tiri. At the same time, her facial features are her mother’s and sometimes she speaks like her. There is something else, something unfamiliar – Tiri’s father and their ancestors.

And she loves cute and nice things - and cringes at the sight of monsters’ inside-outs. Necromancy scares Tiri and she admits she’s never been to her mother’s dungeons just because of how uncanny it was for her.  And elves would often joke that their “witch-queen” just kidnapped Tiri because no way someone like Alethaine could give birth to such a sweet young woman. 

Astarion pierces the fabric with the needle.

“Well, so be it, a unicorn.”

-- Tag list

@tugoslovenka  

@herstxrgirl 

@herdarkestnightelegance  

@vixstarria 

@not-so-lost-after-all  

@marcynomercy  

@theearthsfinalconfession 

@starlight-ipomoea    

@micropoe10 

@astarion-imagine-archive  

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress  

@fayeriess  

@lumienyx  

@tallymonster    

@caitlincat-95  

@tragedybunny  

@valeprati  

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@marina-and-the-memes  

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@ayselluna  

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@ednaaa-04  

@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #alethaine ancunin #astarion being a dad #dadstarion #astarion fluff #spacebarbarian fics #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfic #tiriel of the sunset mountains #tiriel the barbarian #astarion x tiriel #oc tav: tiriel #dhampirs of the sword's coast #snippet of the future #elves #baldurs gate 3 astarion

[climbthemountain2020]

Pages Turned (Nesta Week Day 2 - Metamorphosis)

Day 2 of @nestaarcheronweek

The sun was blinding on the Sidra as Nesta looked out from the balcony of the River House. Her dress swayed around her in the light breeze, swirling around her ankles as she looked out towards the distant mountains. As long as it had taken her to admit it, she truly considered this place her home. In fact, she could see her literal home from here, stretching across the great mountain face overlooking the city.

Maybe she could swindle the house into some lemon-peach tea and another slice of raspberry tart tonight.

She loved Velaris most this time of year, the flowers of early spring popping through the ground, signaling rebirth and things starting anew. She could see the vast gardens surrounding the eastern and back sides of the River House from this balcony. Elain had done a lovely job curating them all by hand years ago. As she grew more and more comfortable in her fae form, she had enchanted them to shift with the seasons, carefully selecting the colors to complement each other and parts of the garden to always be in bloom throughout the year. Nesta smiled to herself–her sister was a female of many talents.

Another warm light breeze pushed against her, causing her to sigh as the lovely scents of lemon and the sea pressed into her skin. She could smell a smattering of other scents below, the remnants of guests arriving for the ceremony taking place today. In amongst them she could just barely pluck out the scent of Cass, somewhere downstairs talking Az off a ledge, no doubt.

She’d only recently left the room where she’d been with all the other females all morning, pinning and zipping and tying and laughing. She’d left to grab some snacks and finish her own preparations for her role as the “Valkyrie of Honor”, as Cass had teasingly called it, neither mate willing to surrender her to the other side for the ceremony.

Her hair still needed styling, so she turned back to the guest room, stepping carefully across the threshold from the porch and sitting primly at the vanity. She’d brought some jeweled pins specifically for the occasion, silver and dotted with tiny blue gems. She laughed to herself at the little joke.

As she looked in the mirror and began to twist and pull her long strands of hair into place, she thought, not for the first time, how thankful she was to have managed all this–to even be here at all.

Nesta had never been one for reflection, choosing instead to plow steadfastly ahead no matter the circumstances, obstacles, or otherwise in her way. She found there had been little time in her life to ruminate on the “what ifs” for whatever reason, and ultimately, she’d mostly broken herself of the very human habit. Even when it hurt, even when she fought tooth and nail, even when it felt as though her still-beating heart had been torn from her chest, Nesta always ended up where she needed to be and not a moment too soon.

Sure, she would have liked to experience a bit less of the heartbreak life had doled out to her, but in her time as an immortal, she’d come to grips with much of that. There would never be a right time for hardships–of course not–but Nesta was at a point now where she genuinely liked who she was for the first time since she could remember. It wasn’t because others had given her approval, it wasn’t because she’d done “enough” to earn her peace–Nesta just genuinely liked herself.

She was, dare she even think it, happy.

The Firstborn.

Nesta might have been happy as a child, but the memories were too hazy to recall. She didn’t remember a time before Elain, barely remembered a time before Feyre, but she remembered her lessons. From the time she could walk, she was in classes: etiquette, ballroom, needlepoint, pianoforte, singing, modern languages, and painting.

Her grandmother would watch as she would plié, jeté, arabesque around the echoing room, thrumming her sharply with a switch any time her footwork was off and harshly adjusting her posture until her chin pointed to the heavens. She knew better than to fight back, knew better than to complain, knew the only way it would ever end was if she did as she was told.

She remembered being jealous of Elain having more freedom and Feyre being able to be loose and free. For Elain, being around others came so naturally. She was outgoing, friendly, and warm. Feyre was wild, always romping about the woods and the streams and the nearby village, covered in dirt and cursing. Nesta wondered all the time why she’d been born first. What had the universe decided that rendered their order so concrete that she’d be eternally doomed to watching her two little sisters live the lives she craved? She remembered seeing them from the windows of the dance studio, wondering why she couldn’t be outside, too.

Nesta, your power is within your station, and your station means absolutely nothing without skill. Your beauty is a weapon–your social skills a knife. If you don’t sharpen it, you’ll be as worthless as anyone else.

So they practiced, and practiced, and practiced until Nesta’s toes bled. Until the smile on her face was as shallow and cracked as a dry lake bed, but muscle memory would deliver it on a silver platter regardless.

At night, when there was no one left to hear, she would cry, her shoulders heaving in the quiet dark, and she would dream every night about flying away from this place, far over the distant mountains and streams. Far away from her mother and grandmother and expectations of a life that would never be lived for herself anyway.

When Nesta’s grandmother died, she wasn’t sad, but she mourned appropriately. When her mother was taken not even two years later, she hated the spark of hope that rang through her chest. Freedom. She could have that freedom.

It didn’t last long before she realized what it meant.

Her father lost their money, her sisters lost their joy, and she lost the last flare of hope as she realized the sacrifices that she would be making. Had she been happy before, then? In that brief moment in between? Hope and happiness weren’t the same, but that small glance of freedom had tasted so sweet. She started having those dreams again of flying–great wings, almost bright red in the light of the sun, gliding through the sky and carrying her to somewhere better, something greater than this.

In those dreams, at least, she could pretend to be happy.

The Sister.

When Feyre was taken, the dreams changed. She was no longer flying high, but being held down, a great beast that shifted between the form of a wolf and a bear and Tomas Mandray in a barn. She woke up in cold sweats in the manor that was haunted with ghosts no one but her could see. As Elain bloomed under this new money, her father became the person she remembered, Nesta withdrew, remembering her mother’s words and sharpening herself once again to be used as a weapon.

The world moved on, but she stayed–the only one who seemed to recognize this for all it was.

So she hardened herself further, and she walked into town with a bag of dirty fae money, threw it at the feet of a mercenary trading pelts, and demanded to be taken to the wall. Three days and nights they trekked through the terrifying woods, her hair standing on end the entirety of the trip. She swore she heard voices whispering quietly from behind the trees. She wondered if, by the time she arrived, Feyre would even still be living.

Each night, she fell asleep clutching a knife to her chest and staring at the stars until her eyes could no longer hold themselves open. She dreamed of a beautiful golden cage, a city by a river, and a low, red glow of light while a man cried nearby. The sadness overwhelmed her so vividly that she woke up feeling devastated all over again.

The trip to the wall meant nothing in the end. They couldn’t find a way through, and so they repeated the whole journey over again, the fear turning to icy resolve in her heart. Elain and her father might not remember, but she would.

Brick by brick on the journey back, Nesta resurrected her walls. They had their money back, but in the end, her circumstances had not changed. She would still be expected to marry, still be forced into the life she was bred for. In the end, Nesta was always made to be a weapon of society meant to serve her family and then another, so she’d ready herself for a new kind of hardness in her demeanor; she would give herself new safe holds within her mind and heart.

When she’d finally seen her sister again, Feyre had been changed–different–and so had she. Feyre was determined and in love, a feeling Nesta had long since given up on. And Nesta was stone cold–her resolve liquifying in her veins like glacial ire. But Feyre was home, and when she painted with Nesta, the patience in her voice nearly tore Nesta to shreds.

She steeled her face, held her lips thin, but her heart, or what was left of it, shattered to bits, leaving her a fragmented mess of nothingness in its wake as she said goodbye yet again to the littlest sister she’d been expected to protect and constantly failed.

The Weapon.

In the end, Nesta was made into a weapon. Not for society, not for a husband, but a true, honest weapon. She’d had everything taken from her when she’d thought there had been nothing left to take, and as she sunk into the icy depths of a childhood fairytale turning into a living nightmare, it tried to take some more.

All her years of training, all the words about her sharpness, every single time someone had called her hard, difficult, cold, unfeeling–she channeled it all. She let her unending rage fuel her, scraping and struggling and demanding.

As the Cauldron took from her, she took back.

Disembodied voices of all ages and genders screamed around her in the dark, fathomless water, but she pulled and screamed and yanked and shrieked until the powers gave way and silence took over. She floated, thoughtless and ephemeral, until the waters began to ebb and flow and she crested to a light above her, the new power humming in her veins as her fingers found arched ears and her eyes found him.

He who had come into her home when she was cold and hard and angry at the world, preening and strutting like some insipid bird-brained idiot. He who called her Nes instead of Nesta. He who acted as though he was utterly indestructible, drawing sneers from her lips as he smiled smugly at her from across the room. He who had taken shot after shot of magic to protect her, shredding his beautiful wings in the process. He whose wings were illuminated by the ward-breaking magic behind him, lighting up and glowing red and stealing her breath as she recognized them from her dreams.

Truly, she didn’t mind being fae. She hadn’t wanted it, hated that the choice had been taken from her like all choices had, but for the first time in her life, Nesta felt powerful. She felt a power in her veins to match the power she’d felt in her stubborn will, her anger, her rage. She liked the arched ears, she liked that she wouldn’t age, she liked that people were afraid of what she could do.

All this scattered to ashes when she’d been ready to die with Cassian, when she took the head off the king.

Power meant nothing to her if it couldn’t save him.

Afterward, when everyone was okay, she thought she might ride the wave of that power forever–might embrace the image of her beheading the king and add it to her collection of things that made her feel strong. But instead, when she looked at her father’s burning body, all she heard was his neck cracking over and over and her steely resolve shattered like glass. All she saw was Cassian being blown from the sky, ceasing to exist as she called his name, and every defense she’d ever built scattered like dandelions in the wind.

Even with all the suffering–even with all the power–she could never protect those she cared about. The only thing she could do for herself was push them all away so it didn’t hurt so much. All she could do was try to feel nothing at all. She was a monster. The words echoed in her head.

I loved you from the first moment I held you in my arms. And I am… I am so sorry, Nesta - my Nesta. I am so sorry, for all of it.

Nesta–my Nesta.

Nesta–my Nesta.

Nesta–my Nesta.

My Nesta.

She’d done this. She’d pushed him away. He’d saved their lives, and it didn’t excuse the years before, but she’d never told him. She’d only tortured him. She’d never told him, and now she never would.

Now, Nesta only dreamed of fires and the cracking of bone.

The Wreck.

Nesta had gone to the beach once as a child. Her mother had allowed her and Elain to swim, though Feyre had been too little. Nesta remembered how the sand pulled in the water from beneath her feet, coming and going with each push and pull of the waves. She remembered being in awe of the power in front of her, the strength in those waves. She remembered being worried if she went under, she may never come back up.

That’s what it felt like in Velaris. Everything was blurry around her, the sounds and sights and smells muffled despite her senses being sharper than they’d ever been before. She felt like she was being pulled under those waves, and every time she tried to come back up for air, something pushed her back beneath.

Cassian tried to speak with her, but every time he did she couldn’t see anything but her body draped over his, throat raw and soul willing to die with him on that battlefield.

Feyre tried to talk to her, but every time she did, all she could see were her father’s features on the face of a fae, his neck snapping like a branch in a storm.

She tried to talk herself out of it, but every day was torture. She couldn’t bathe because it reminded her of the Cauldron. She couldn’t eat because she felt too ill. She couldn’t talk to anyone because her voice might crack, and if they asked her about it, the tight leash she held might snap and she would never get it back in hand.

So Nesta returned to her roots, building that wall up piece by piece until it was even stronger than before.

She spent her nights in her apartment, alone and filling the void with everything she could. Alcohol to numb her pain and quiet her thoughts, gambling to distract her, men–males–to ease the loneliness that ached down to her very bones. It wasn’t enough, it was never enough, but it was all she had.

She knew she could seek out her sister, knew she could even seek out Cassian, but then she’d have to face it all, and she couldn’t. She couldn’t even contemplate the possibility.

But sometimes, at night, as the males snored by her side in a bed that was too cold, she imagined it was Cassian she’d brought home, his hands warm and broad on her body, his chest pressed to her back, his lips roaming her neck. Sometimes, she pictured it was him as she cried, leaned against the door to the bathroom as she let the tears fall where no one else could possibly see.

“It’s okay, Nes. It’s all going to be okay.”

She wanted to believe it, but she didn’t. Nesta didn’t dream anymore.

The Valkyrie.

Nesta wasn’t expecting the recovery when it came. She wasn’t expecting to recover at all.

In fact, the first thing she felt outside of her own despair was rage. Rage and wrath and fury that everyone else was given their space to grieve as they saw fit. Everyone but her, and only because she was embarrassing Feyre.

Everyone had given Elain time to be a useless, depressed, ghost of a person. Everyone allowed her to kick Lucien away like a mongrel on the street. But no, not Nesta. Not the mate of a member of their elite friend group. Not the sister who refused to bend for them.

The world had taken enough from her, and she wasn’t going to let some well-dressed bat and his friends pressure her into feeling the things that she’d carefully shoved away.

But then they did anyway. Every time Nesta thought there was nothing left to take, something else was taken.

Buried in her rage and ignoring her grief, however, she had found something she hadn’t been looking for–kinship. Understanding.

Gwyn and Emerie had not been expected, but for the first time in her life, it felt like she’d been given something instead of forced into giving it away. They understood her in a way that her own sisters never had. They didn’t expect anything of her except for her to wake up and face the day with them as they did themselves. They were all healing in their own way until one day they realized they had been healing together.

Strangely, finding her chosen sisters did not push her farther away from her own. She found, instead, that she respected her sisters and their choices in a whole new light. In learning to give and accept love in the way she’d never done before, she saw how they’d been set up to fail from the start by their family, by their dynamic.

Breaking free from it all had allowed Nesta to heal and see things with new eyes. Knowing that it hadn’t only been her doing everything she could to survive, but her sisters too, let her give freely what she’d withheld so fervently from others, but most of all from herself: forgiveness.

Finding a purpose had fulfilled Nesta in ways she’d never experienced, and finding it with people she loved made the victory so much sweeter. For once, the things she built up brick by brick were not her walls, but her fortitude, her bravery, her trust, and her openness. She found she liked the feeling of pushing herself into something uncomfortable and new, and she stopped leaving claw marks on every part of her she’d had to leave behind.

When Nesta began to dream again, she was afraid that she would return to those nightmares: Cassian injured, her father dying, the fathomless depths of the Cauldron. She wondered if she’d now be greeted by Cassian with a knife, Briallyn with the crown, the swords coming down on her again and again on Ramiel as she fought to make sure her sisters survived.

Instead, when she dreamed, she saw white ribbons, her nephew, and a family that she chose for herself. She was dreaming of wings in the skies again, soft hands on her as the glow of the sun and the siphons bathed her in a warm red glow, and the low words rumbling in her ear and wrapping straight around her immortal heart.

“Hello, Nes.”

The Mate.

Nesta remembered the final step, allowing her guard down enough to let Cassian in to stay. She fought the urge to push him out, to keep that space in her heart silent and cold as it had always been. But his warmth and his joy and his laugh and his love found their way in, nestling within her ribs like a cat in a ray of sun.

She found, at the end of the day, it was impossible to not love Cass. And as much as she’d insisted they hadn’t been well matched, she found every single part of him complemented every single part of her.

Once she allowed herself to love and be loved in return, she was surprised to find that her default actually wasn’t cold and alone. In fact, Nesta found she loved to be held, loved to wake up with that heat at her back, loved to feel his strong hands on her, always–at meals, at training, in passing, and at night. She loved the steadiness of him, of her mate.

The Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death were only soft for each other and those they loved, and that was how it would remain.

Nesta looked out again to the lovely mountains of Velaris, the Sidra glittering below in the mid-afternoon sun. She could hear the chatter on the other side of the house as everyone prepared for the mating ceremony. She’d been organizing and helping to set this up for months, and she was not about to be late to see her work come to fruition. She was sure Cass was already downstairs socializing.

As if she’d summoned him, his booming laugh bounded through the halls of the house, and she couldn’t help but grin as she pressed one last pin into her hair.

A quiet knock on the door before it opened had her turning in the chair.

“Nesta? We’re all just about set to go. You ready?” Feyre had poked her head through the door. “Oh, you look lovely!”

Nesta blushed. Even after all these years, it was hard to accept compliments so freely from her sister.

“Yes, all set! Just finishing up my hair. Is Az shitting his pants yet?”

“Not quite, but he is pacing a hole in the floor. Cassian has been trying to slow him down.” She responded with a giggle, holding out a hand for Nesta to take.

“Well, we’d best not keep them waiting.” She took Feyre’s hand in hers, the other supporting her swollen belly as she came to stand. She rubbed a hand over it, feeling a swift kick in return. It never failed to make her soul feel like it was about to take off over the peaks of Velaris.

She smiled, feeling the tiny winged babe wriggle around beneath her ribs. It wouldn’t be much longer now and they’d have this little one in their arms. The thought of Cass with their child snuggled into his bare chest while she listened to him tell them stories made her heart swell with warmth, and she suddenly couldn’t wait to get down the stairs to see him again.

The Mother.

Biggest thank you to @cauldronblssd, @witch-and-her-witcher, and @tunaababee for the beta reads! I love youuuu

#nesta archeron #nesta acotar #nestaweek2024 #nesta week day 2: metamorphosis #nessian #nesta x cassian #character study

[portagas-chan]

Yours Forever and Ever : Part 1

Yandere Katakuri x Isekai Reader

Summary: [Y/n] is part of the Strawhat Crew. She followed Luffy and the others to retrieve Sanji. However, she was separated from her friends and was kidnapped by Big Mom's children. Luckily, she wasn't going to be killed but held as a hostage by none other than 'Charlotte Katakuri' who is considered to be the strongest sweet commander in the Big Mom Pirates.

Nobody knew she was from another world, not even the straw hats. She never told anyone and when she first arrived here, she came up with a lie and they all believed her, even Zoro which was surprising. The straw hats accepted her and welcomed her to their crew. She felt joyful.

Anyways, that's not important. [Y/n] was in trouble. She got separated from Luffy and the others in the Seducing Forest. She would be doing okay if she encountered an opponent who was not a sweet commander. However, she would stand no chance against them if they were a sweet commander. She hoped Lady Luck would be on her side today.

[Y/n] walked and walked, she didn't know where she was going but it didn't matter. It wasn't like she could fly. There was nothing she could do. Suspicious enough, the trees shifted to form a path where she found herself outside the Seducing Forest. All the thinking was giving her a headache and she decided to be meh.

[Y/n] looked around in awe at her surroundings. The whole island was literally made up of sweets. It was even crazier seeing this in person. Suddenly, she felt her leg go numb and fell onto her knees. The last thing she saw was the triplets -Smoothie, Citron, and Cinnamon- staring down with Flampe laughing at her.

She widened her eyes in realization, 'I knew it was too good to be true. This was a trap made by Brulee.'

A harsh splash of water stung her face as she scrunched her nose and slowly opened her eyes. She looked at Flampe who had a now empty bucket of water, glaring at her, "Was that necessary?"

"You were sleeping so soundly. I thought you weren't going to wake up," Flampe retorted to which she rolled her eyes. She was tied up in a chair.

[Y/n] analyzed her surroundings. Sitting in front of her was Big Mom who stared at her with that creepy grin on her face. It was frightening to see her in person.

Then there was Katakuri and his triplets -Oven and Daifuku- looking intimidating as ever. There was Perospero licking his lollipop and Smoothie with her triplets and of course, Flampe. All attention was on her and it was not in a good way.

"[Y/n] from the StrawHats. I will admit, your captain is a brave one but to survive in the New World, bravery is not enough. Mamamama!" Big Mom laughed.

[Y/n] stayed silent. She would be lying if she said she wasn't scared at all. In fact, she was terrified. Terrified of what would happen to her. But she had faith in Luffy. Even if she was kidnapped, she knew Luffy would eventually come and save her. He would never abandon his crew member. That's just how he is.

"So, what do you think we should do with her, my children?" Big Mom asked.

"I say we kill her!" Flampe demanded.

'Bitch,' [Y/n] cursed in her mind.

"Now, now, don't be hasty. Taking her hostage can give us so much advantages in many ways," Perospero suggested.

Big Mom's expression seemed to brighten a little. It seems she likes Perospero's suggestion. "Taking her hostage? I like that! Which one of you would like to take on the job?"

Katakuri stepped up, "Mama, please allow me to deal with her. There's no way she can escape me."

"Katakuri?" Big Mom looked at him, studying his face. When she saw that he was dead serious, she laughed, "You're right! Then it's settled!"

[Y/n] didn't expect Katakuri to voluntarily choose to deal with her. She thought he wouldn't bother with this stuff. Either way, Lady Luck seems to hate her. She knew Katakuri had a soft side behind that mask of his perfect demeanor but it wasn't like she could suddenly bring out his soft side to her. If she ever saw what was under that scarf, he would be blinded by anger and accidentally kill her before he could even hear her out.

Big Mom placed cuffs on her wrists that explode if she disobeyed Katakuri. Crazy, right? She didn't even know you could give certain commands to the cuffs.

One thing she noticed about Katakuri was that he never let her out of his sight. She must always be with him but of course, she was left alone when he had something important to do but he always made sure it ended quickly. But she paid no attention to it, shooking it off as him doing his job and that it was due to the loyalty he had for his mother.

Sitting across him, she could feel the hard stare Katakuri was giving her. He always had that kind of stare whether he was doing it intentionally or unintentionally. Nevertheless, it made her feel nervous as she uncomfortably shifted in her seat.

"Why did you join the Strawhat pirates?" Katakuri started.

She looked up at him, "Are you using your observation haki thing again?"

Katakuri closed his eyes before opening it again, "I asked you a question."

"I will take that as a no," She muttered. "There's no deep meaning behind it, actually. They seemed fun and interesting, that's all."

Katakuri raised his brow, "That's all?" She nodded her head.

"Then will you join our crew under my wing if I promise to make it fun and interesting? I will make sure you stay happy too," Katakuri said.

[Y/n] was puzzled. Why would Katakuri want her to join the Big Mom pirates and be under his wing at that? She tried to think of a good reason but there simply was none. Sure, she could fight but she wasn't all that strong. She wasn't special at all. So, why?

"Why would you want me on your crew? I'm not strong," [Y/n] said.

"You don't have to be strong because I will protect you," Katakuri said and he meant it. He was not joking around. He was being serious.

To [Y/n], this was weird to see Katakuri acting like that. It was out of his character. It has just been a two days since they first met and he's acting like they have known each other for years.

[Y/n] remembered something important. "Why are you asking me that when you already know the answer?" She raised her hands to show the cuffs.

Katakuri smirked behind his scarf and [Y/n] could tell because his eyes changed a bit.

Katakuri stood up from his chair and walked towards [Y/n]. She tensed up when she saw him approached her. He sat on an empty chair beside her and dragged it closer to her.

He suddenly picked her up and placed her on his lap. His hand on her thigh slowly rubbing it while the other hugged her in place.

Don't get her wrong. She loves Katakuri but being this close to him like this and having no choice but to obey him in real life was scary. He was so huge too and it didn't make it any better.

"Katakuri?" She called out nervously.

"Are you scared?" Katakuri touched her hair, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

If she were to answer him honestly, it would be a yes and a no. He looks intimidating and scary, but she knows he's actually a cutie inside. He was getting touchy with her and she honestly doesn't know how to feel about it.

In the end, [Y/n] is unable to answer at all.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you," Katakuri reassured her. "And I promise you, no one will lay a finger on you."

#yandere katakuri #yandere one piece #yandere x reader #one piece #charlotte katakuri x reader #katakuri x reader #op katakuri #katakuri x yn #charlotte katakuri #katakuri one piece

[coolprettyleo]

my soul has changed? - will smith au

wc: 1.4k

tw: depression, suggestion of an ED, awkwardness? mean girl.

will smith x oc celebrini sister!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

april celebrini was in a point of her life where everything felt still. she was pretty sure she was suffering from depression and it was a cycle she didn't know how to get out of.

she would wake up, go to school, go to work, and then sleep. she was lucky if she fitted a meal in between that meant she had lost tons of weight.

she had been a pretty healthy teen, she played hockey up until high school alongside her brothers; but when the time came to play college hockey, she got no offers. contributing to her depression.

it was a sport she held so much love and dedication, she couldn't understand why she hadn't been good enough? I mean her brothers were good enough, they got college offers. macklin was even projected to go first overall, so why couldn't she?

those were thoughts that were constantly haunting her mind. if she found something to forget them they would flood back in, like if they wanted her to be a lifeless doll she had been feeling like.

her family had been really worried for her. she had finally seen her brothers after a year, at the NCCAA playoffs and it only caused them to worry more.

flashbacks

april knew that macklin and aiden were gonna bombard her with questions as soon as they were alone. they could hardly recognize her. growing up she was always a smiling person with a big personality and now she was about forty pounds lighter and was a ghost of the person she used to be.

"april what's going on" macklin said shutting the door behind him.

"what do you mean"

"cut the bullshit. I know your not okay, you barley answer my text anymore, what's wrong"

"it's nothing mack-"

"no it's not nothing, maybe I can fix it-

"you cant 'fix' it"

"and why not-"

"because I don't know what wrong with me!"

that had been about two weeks ago. she just didn't know what to tell her family. she really didn't understand why she had been feeling that way.

she was currently at work where she was a barista in a cute coffee shop. she honestly loved working there, she had got the job when she was in high school and had kept it till college. seeing as she didn’t move far away for college, choosing to stay close to her parents.

she often wondered if she might be happier if she moved away just like everyone else did, just like her brothers did. but it would always end in her telling herself; that it's not worth dwelling on.

it was currently six am and at this time of day there weren’t many customers. the cafe was always busy mid day when people were looking to find somewhere to study.

so she was surprised when she turned the open side around, to find a boy waiting outside to come in. a boy who looked a lot like will smith.

april wasn’t an idiot to hockey, she kept up with it a fairly good amount, so she would have to be living under a rock to not know the guy who dominated the ice at her brothers rivalry school.

that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to act like she didn’t know him.

he reached for the handle and took a look at her before turning as red as a tomato and blushing,

“hey, are you guys open?” he asked nervously, mentally slapping himself because he just saw her turn the sign around, to ‘open’

“uhm yeah I’ll be with you in a sec” she told him.

will couldn’t help but think her voice was cute. she had a rasp to it that made him want to give her everything she’s ever wanted.

april finished up, putting the coffee too brew and turned to the counter.

“okay! order when your ready”

“uhm. i actually never been here before… any recs?” he asked after a moment nervously scratching his neck.

“well I get a dirty chai, but considering my brothers hate it, you might hate it too… I guess you might like a frap?” she told him, a little too monotone.

“yeah okay” he told her again nervously. he found her to be breathtakingly beautiful.

he paid and stood back as she got to making the drink.

“you from here?” will asked hoping to make small talk.

“uhm kinda. I was born in Vancouver but moved here when my dad got a job”

will panicked. oh god was she still in highschool

april must of saw the worry on his face because she added,

“that was a couple years ago, im eighteen now” she said smiling at his face. something she didn’t do often anymore.

“oh, i’m eighteen too”

“oh yeah, what brings you to san jose, school?” she said innocently knowing very well he was drafted here and was most likely here to work on development.

“no. I”m came to meet with some people here. I go to boston college” he answered. april starting to not feel so bad because she saw he didn’t want to right away say he was a hockey player.

“far from home huh”

“yeah, i’m literally across the country from everything and everybody i’ve ever known” he told her wanting to slap himself. did she need to know that!?!

“i’m sorry. it’ll get easier” she said remembering her brother had been homesick too but utimatly started feeling better after some time-- as she handing him his drinks and gave him a sympathetic face.

“yeah i hope so, i should be moving here soon, if everything goes right” he said as he took a sip.

“hey this is good!” he said taking another sip as april smiled. something that will thought looked amazing on her.

april smiled at him remembering the fact her brothers liked that drink. boys were so typical

“i’m glad… and hey— if you ever need a friend in town my names april” she told him as she held her hand out to him to shake.

will starred at it for a moment before he quickly met her hand.

“will” he told the girl with a smile.

they were cut out of there moment when two customers walked in.

“I should get back to work. i’ll see you around will” she told him as he smiled a nodded and walked right out.

say something! ask for my number! do anything!

april felt really dumb after she basically just presented herself in a silver platter to the boy and he didn’t finish his part in asking for her number. he had definitely rejected her in the nicest way someone possibly could.

meanwhile will got into the Uber with a gitty feeling. she seemed really cool and having someone to hang out with other than his teammates was going to be so nice.

he was midway into the meeting with some general managers when he realized he didn’t even ask for her number.

“oh my god” he mumbled as he came to the realization

"i'm sorry?" one of the GM's said confused.

“uhh— I said I was excited to join the franchise!” he covered up, feeling like an idiot.

hopefully she was still there after the meeting.

the meeting had gone a little to long for his liking and as he raced down to the coffee shop he hoped she was working a long shift.

he opened the door to see a blonde girl who looked old but yet looked young, and a taller boy with curly hair working behind the counter.

“hi. is april working today?” he said breathlessly

the blonde eyed him for a moment before smirking,

“I don't recall an april ever working here...my name samantha though” she said with a face that will knew was a face of someone who was lying.

“yes there is, she helped me earlier-"

“if your here to file a complaint against her, I can totally help you then,” she said

“no she was great— wait, you said you didn’t know an april-“

“your looking for april” the other barista cut in

“yeah she was here earlier, i was hoping she was still here”

“she got off like two hours ago but i can give you her number!” the curly haired boy told will. he was one of aprils friends and he wasn’t going to ruin this opportunity for her.

“you totally can’t do that!” the blonde girl said in a nasally voice.

“shutup samantha. go take candy from a baby or something” he sassily told her.

she rolled her eyes before walking away to wipe a table down.

“sorry about her, here’s her number— good luck!”

“thankyou so much” he told him as he thought about what exactly to text the pretty girl.

both april and will not knowing the epic love story they were about embark on.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

hi guys! i hope this is kinda good, dont feel shy to send in ask and au thoughts… i like never get any but im so open to it!!

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey fic #will smith hockey #bc hockey #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #will smith hockey x reader #jacob fowler #bc eagles #will smith hockey x oc #will smith hockey imagine #april x will #gabe perreault x reader #nhl #hockey imagine

[everybodyshusband]

ditching chores/sneaking kisses

mushy may ; day twenty one !! (approx 3.6k words)

read under the cut or on ao3 :)

this was meant to be romantic and it just turned very, very silly jdsfhd

————— 1 —————

The first thing Rain saw when he appeared in the summoning circle was a giant. Well, okay after he’d had a few seconds to fully take him all in he was pretty sure he was just an exceptionally tall earth ghoul, but giant worked well for the moment. When the noise, smoke and chaos calmed down, slithering back through the circle and into the ether of the pits, Rain tried to stand and take stock of his surroundings. Just as he managed to haul himself up into a standing position, something in his leg buckled but before he could hit the ground he found himself caught up in a strong pair of arms.

“Careful, kid. Don’t want you injuring yourself after only being here five seconds.”

Rain rolled his eyes. “Just because you’re a giant, doesn’t mean everyone around you is a kid, earthy.”

“Oh, he’s feisty!” Someone else’s voice rang out in the small stone room; a damp looking multi ghoul wrapped in an oversized grey blanket. He must be a new summon as well. “I think I’m going to like him.” His grin was sharp and infectious, Rain smiled back. Had he already made a friend?

The earth ghoul chuckled at their exchange. “My name’s Mountain. Do you have one?”

Rain tore his eyes away from the multi to pay attention to Mountain. “Uh huh,” he nodded. “Rain.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rain,” yet another voice spoke, but this one’s owner wasn’t a ghoul. His face was painted in intentional strokes of black and white, the markings around his eyes and cheeks clearly meant to resemble a skull and he was dressed entirely in liturgical vestments, his mitre bearing the mark of the Ghost Project. No way. Rain had heard whispers of a project of this nature in the Pit, nothing proven, nothing concrete; a division of the Old One’s church Up Top spreading His word through song all over the world. He hadn’t believed it at the time, it had all sounded too far fetched but… here it was.

“Papa Emeritus?”

The man—although he was a bit more than that if the rumours were true, wasn’t he—looked taken aback. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do?” Rain was shocked that he wasn’t aware of his own fame. “In the Pit, there’s been rumours of what you’ve been doing for what feels like forever.”

Papa tutted. “Interesting… This is what Swiss told me earlier.” At Rain’s questioning head tilt he apologised. “Ah, of course! Sorry, that’s Swiss there.” He pointed to the newly summoned multi ghoul. Swiss poked a hand out of his blanket and waves, still grinning. “He was summoned only a few minutes before you were.” He continued pointing out and naming all of the ghouls in the room, there are so many more than Rain originally thought he saw, too caught up in being pulled up to a different world, he supposed.

After explaining the basics to Rain—introducing him to his new pack, laying out the exact purpose of his summoning, what his role will be if he chooses to accept it—Papa smiled and pat him on the back. “I think that’s more than enough information for now though, hmm? Mountain, how about you take Rain to get settled in and Aether, you can do the same for Swiss?”

“Sounds perfect, Papa,” Mountain smiled, squeezing Rain from where his arm is still wrapped around his shoulder; Rain was back on his feet now, but Mountain never let him go properly, presumably still worried he wouldn’t remain steady on his feet once he’d started to walk around the room.

“C’mon, Rain.” He began to wrap a blanket identical to Swiss’ around Rain’s shoulders. It was much warmer than it looked. “I’ll show you around the den and the grounds if you’re feeling up to it.”

Rain nodded. “That sounds nice, thanks, Mountain.”

Mountain smiled and Rain had just enough time to notice that one of his front teeth had a tiny chip in it. He squeezed his arm around Rain just hard enough to pull him closer to the earth ghoul and pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head. Rain blushed “Cool! Alright, we’ve got a lot to cover. We should head off now before it gets too late.”

————— 2 —————

It had been a few weeks since Rain had been summoned now and he could happily say he was settling into life at the Ministry well. He was learning the parts for his music with Dew’s help and everyone said he and Swiss—who was taking his singing and guitar lessons from Dew, Aether and Papa— were progressing nicely. He wasn’t even the newest summon anymore! Two air ghoulettes had been summoned about a week after he and Swiss and they seemed to be adjusting well too. The four of them—Rain, Swiss, Cirrus and Cumulus—had become a group of their own of sorts. It wasn’t as if they didn’t spend time with the others, of course they did, but it was nice that the four of them were able to bond over being fresh to Earth and not understanding certain human customs that had evolved since the last time they’d all been Up Top when they were human.

He’d been settling into his chores now as well. His favourite, without a doubt, was helping Mountain in the greenhouses and gardens on the Abbey’s grounds. All he had to do was water the plants and regulate the humidity, but he was able to write off a whole day just to sit and talk with Mountain while he worked. Occasionally he’d lend a hand, but more often than not, Mountain insisted that Rain need not do anything but sit there and be good company for him.

His favourite day by far had been when he’d been helping the earth ghoul to weed and mulch his flower beds. The two of them had become covered in soil, roots and mulching hay and had ended the day by running off to the lake to clean themselves off, whooping with laughter the entire time. Before they’d run off to the lake however, Mountain had reached out a hand to brush a patch of dirt off of Rain’s cheek, no doubt leaving an equally dirty smudge behind in his wake but Rain didn’t mind. Especially when what had followed the brushing off was a quick, shy peck of Mountain’s lips on his cheek. The earth ghoul had come close enough for Rain to appreciate the light dusting of freckles covering his face from all his days working in the gardens, particularly concentrated on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Rain wanted to christen every single one with a kiss as gentle as the one Mountain had just given his cheek but before he could do so, the earth ghoul had pulled back and with a grin.

“Race you to the lake, raindrop,” he’d called. “Last one there is on dinner duty for a week!”

————— 3 —————

The few weeks after that had passed in a whirlwind of activity. Rain was busy every single day. Between taking on a few extra duties for a week or two as a favour for Zephyr after they’d been sequestered away to the infirmary and practising all the new songs he’d learnt on his bass at every single spare moment, he was running on empty. It was no surprise to anyone but Rain when he got sick.

“You were exhausted, waterlily,” Mountain explained gently as he stirred the bowl of soup he’d brought Rain to help cool it down. “You need to give your body and your mind space to relax from all the stress you’re putting yourself under. Open up?”

“I can feed myself, Mount,” Rain protested, keeping his mouth firmly closed.

“I know you can. But I want to help, so open.”

Rain rolled his eyes playfully as he opened his mouth for Mountain to spoon the soup into, holding back a sigh of pleasure as the warm soup soothed his scratchy throat.

“You need to find something you can do that lets you relax and release the stress of the day off of your shoulders,” Mountain explained, quickly putting a finger over Rain’s lips when he opened his mouth to protest. “Eat with your mouth closed, love,” he teased. Rain didn’t like to admit the butterflies that hearing the pet name in Mountain’s voice gave him, but it felt nice. “I know you have your bass, but at the moment it’s also stressing you out. It’s understandable, of course with the tour coming up soon, you want to be the best you can be before we head off.” Curse Mountain for always somehow knowing what Rain was going to say. “But at the moment it’s only going to make you worse if you’re stressing yourself out enough that you’re getting sick and unable to practise.”

Rain opened his mouth to protest again but this time, instead of telling him to be quiet, Mountain shut him up by putting another spoon of soup in his mouth, that bastard.

“Zephyr’s back from the infirmary soon though,” he mused. “So hopefully you’ll have less work to stress you out, but,” he continued. “If Zephyr’s still not up to doing everything when you’re better, you will ask someone to help you. A load meant for two people on top of practising for the tour isn’t sustainable or healthy for you, Rain. Can you promise me that?”

Rain nodded and quickly swallowed his mouthful of soup. “I promise, Mount. And… thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always,” Mountain smiled. “Are you sure you can manage feeding yourself the soup? I’m happy to stay if you need help,” he teased.

“I think I’ll be fine, thanks,” Rain grinned. You spooned those few mouthfuls perfectly though.”

Mountain laughed. “Good to know my skills aren’t going unappreciated.” He leant down and pressed a soft kiss to Rain’s forehead. His lips were surprisingly cool against Rain’s boiling head. “Call me if you need me for anything, alright? Any time of day and I’ll come running to help.” He got up off the side of Rain’s bed and flicked his bedside lamp on, flicking the overhead light off on his way to the door. Rain hadn’t even realised how the harsh light had been affecting him until Mountain turned it off. “Get well soon, Rainy,” he smiled, closing the door on his way out.

————— 4 —————

A few days after Rain recovered from his illness, he found himself back in the greenhouses, chatting the afternoon away with Mountain. Despite his offers to help, Mountain insisted that Rain just relax and not worry.

“I asked Mist to come in this morning and help with the humidity,” he explained. “You’ve met her, right? Oh, good! Either way, it’s all sorted, Rainy. Don’t worry about anything other than giving yourself time to rest.”

Rain had just nodded, secretly pleased for this time that he could spend with Mountain, free from chores and practice and responsibilities. It was autumn now and the leaves around the Ministry were turning every possible hue of orange, yellow and red. As well as this—and arguably more exciting in Rain’s eyes—Mountain’s army of caterpillars were beginning to emerge from their chrysalides as butterflies and flutter around the greenhouses. More than once, Rain had become somewhat of a butterfly magnet, with many of them landing on him after he’d sat still for a long enough period of time.

“Have you ever heard of butterfly kisses?”

Mountain’s voice was enough to startle both Rain and the butterfly that had found a perch on his finger. “Butterfly huh?” Was all the water ghoul could manage as he caught his breath from the unexpected fright.

“Butterfly kisses,” Mountain repeated. “They’re called that because it’s supposed to feel like butterfly wings caressing your skin.”

Rain tilted his head. The earth ghoul was so much less subtle than he thought himself to be. “I don’t think I get it,” he said, knowing full well the smirk on his face gave away that he understood exactly what Mountain meant. “Can you show me?”

Mountain grinned and nodded. “Give me your arm?” Rain obliged. “All I do is bring your arm up to my face,” he explained as he mimicked his words. “Then I get my eyes really close and blink, like that.”

Rain squirmed. “Ah, no, that tickles, Mount!”

The earth ghoul pouted exaggeratedly. “Do you think it will tickle on your face?”

Rain almost snorted. “You’re really not coming across as innocent as you wish you were, Mount,” he laughed. “But sure, go ahead, butterfly boy. Kiss me.”

Mountain obliged, moving even closer to the water ghoul, letting his breath ghost over his cheeks before fluttering his eyelashes over the soft skin there. His breath was warm but it soothed the tickle of his eyelashes enough that Rain didn’t have to squirm away. Although he’s not sure that he would have moved anyway, even if it had rendered him to a tickle-avoidant mess. He treasures his time with Mountain too much.

————— 5 —————

The night before the band goes away on tour is always cause for a big celebration, Mountain told him. This year, the Ministry is hosting a grand ball complete with fancy clothes—which is apparently just another way to say formal clothes, not fancy dress like Rain had hoped—and formal dances. The ghouls and Papa are all attending together and Mountain had already promised to stay with Rain for most of the night, not that Rain needed babysitting, but Sathanas, if he had to talk to an enormous room full of people for hours on end then he needed someone with him, if only to make sure he didn’t rip someone’s throat out if they tried to engage in yet another round of small talk with him.

It’s safe to say that Rain had… well, perhaps blossomed is the right word, in the few months since he’d been summoned. He was definitely more comfortable in telling people to fuck off before he killed them, at least. After a few months of trying to play the role of a human, he was finally growing more comfortable in presenting himself as the demonic hell beast he was.

A sudden hand on his shoulder interrupted his musings and made him jump.

“Sorry, raincloud,” Mountain soothed. “It’s just me.”

“How goeth the search for drinks, my dear sir?” Rain joked, recalling Dew’s complaints that these events always felt stuffy and overly formal, like those renaissance movies he pretends to hate.

“Alas, loyal comrade,” Mountain replied, playing along. “Lady Cumulus snatched them from mine own hand whilst I was returning to you with my spoils.” He got down on one knee and threw his hands up in the air. “How will you ever forgive me?”

Rain threw his head back laughing. “I’m sure I’ll survive, Mount. Now get up off the floor, you’re going to ruin your pants and Aether’s going to yell at you if he has to sew on another knee patch for you.”

“I’ll just ask Cirrus then,” Mountain retorted, obeying Rain all the same. “I’m still in her good books.”

“Nope. I think they’re conspiring against you. Remember last time you asked her to mend something she never gave it back?” He nudged the earth ghoul with his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure the two of them are convinced that if they slowly steal your clothes over time, eventually you’ll give up on wearing them altogether.”

“I– What?” Mountain spluttered. “If they want to see me naked they could just ask.”

“Yeah but they’re freaky,” Rain stage whispered. “They wanna make it happen…”

Mountain blushed, no doubt thinking of all the ways he could make it happen more quickly. Luckily for his sake, music soon began to trickle through the mingling crowds, inviting them all to begin dancing. How the Ministry got the speaker system to work so well, Rain would never know. Maybe they had hundreds hidden all throughout the ballroom?

His train of thought was interrupted by Mountain returning to their earlier game of jest, bowing low and holding out his hand. “Lord Rain of the-bedroom-right-down-the-hallway-from-me.” Rain couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up inside him from that. “May I please have this dance?”

He placed his hand in Mountain’s. “You may, Lord Mountain,” he smiled, thrilled when the earth ghoul bent down even further to kiss the back of his hand, stomach fluttering when he refused to break eye contact until his lips broke contact with Rain’s hand. “Come,” he announced, shifting his grip on Mountain’s hand to be able to hold it more normally. “Let us dance.”

————— + 1 —————

The tour bus is alive with energy. They’re only a few hours into their journey but all of them are buzzing with a mixture of nerves and excitement, even if all they’re doing is chatting amongst themselves quietly.

Swiss’ legs are currently thrown over Rain’s lap, the two of them gossiping quietly about their various hookups since being summoned. Rain is ninety percent sure Cumulus is listening in on their conversation but he doesn’t mind, she was the one who taught him how to do that thing with his tongue he was just explaining to Swiss.

“So…” Swiss leans in close and glances around furtively. The multi ghoul can never resist an opportunity for some dramatic flair. “When did you and Mountain hookup?”

“Me and Mount?” Rain asks, surprised. “We haven’t.”

Swiss sighs. “You don’t have to lie to me, Rainy, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I was just telling you all the ways Dew made me cry for him, I think we’re past the point of shame, rainbow.”

“I’m telling you the truth! We haven’t…”

“Oh, but you want to.” It’s not a question, it doesn’t need to be one.

“Of course I do, have you fucking seen him?”

“Have you fucking seen his dick?” Swiss leans in close and uses his hands to measure an obscene length. There’s no way he’s telling the truth. “Fucking huge, Rainy, it’s insane.”

Rain whines. “Don’t tease me, Swiss, fuck.”

“Fine, fine,” Swiss relents. “But you’ve at least kissed right? I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, there’s no way that nothing’s happened between you.”

“I mean… kind of?” Rain replies. “We’ve kissed but not… y’know, on the lips or anything?”

Swiss’ eyes feel like they’re boring a hole into his soul. When he speaks, his voice is deadpan. “Are you fucking shitting me, Rainy.”

“No?”

Swiss looks like he’s about to scream.

Aether’s voice calls out from his game of cards with Dew. “Swiss, are you alright back there?”

“No, I’m dying, Aeth,” Swiss yells back at the same time as Rain says: “He’s fine, he’s just being a dramatic prick.”

“What’s all this about a dramatic prick?” Mountain grins as he takes a seat next to Rain.

“Mountain!” Swiss says, moving forward fast as lightning to grab the earth ghoul by the collar of his shirt. “Why the fuck haven’t you kissed Rain yet, it’s killing me, Mount. You hear me?” He shakes Mountain back and forth violently. “Kill. Ing. me.”

“I’ve kissed him,” Mountain says simply, miraculously unperturbed by the seemingly wild multi ghoul shaking him around.

Swiss pulls him even closer before releasing him. “Show me.”

Mountain sighs and looks over at Rain for permission but he’s smiling and his smile is always so infectious that Rain can’t help mimic it the second he sees it pulling at the earth ghoul’s lips.

“I’ve kissed him here,” Mountain starts, kissing the top of Rain’s head. “And here, and here,” he continues, brushing gentle kisses over Rain’s cheek and forehead in mimicry of those events that feel like they happened a lifetime ago. “Then I gave him butterfly kisses all over his face.” Rain scrunches up his eyes to combat the gentle tickling sensation that Mountain’s eyelashes are spreading across his face. “And last night I kissed his hand, like this.” This time it’s Rain who offers the hand out first, Mountain taking gladly and holding eye contact the entire time, exactly like the previous night. “But you’re right, Swiss. There is one spot I’ve missed.” He takes Rain’s face in his hands, cradling it gently in his hands. Mountain barely has to open his mouth to ask before Rain is nodding vigorously and surging forward to connect their lips together with an elated sigh.

It doesn’t take much for Mountain to deepen the kiss and pull Rain onto his lap and as soon as he does, Swiss is whooping and running up and down the length of the bus singing praises. Rain leans back to take a breather just in time to see Dew yank Swiss down to sit with him and Aether, telling him to get a hold on himself. Rain doesn’t miss the way Dew smirks when Aether presses a wad of cash into his hand, sighing in defeat.

“I think they were betting on us,” he whispers against Mountain’s lips, resting their foreheads together as they both take a breather.

“Oh, they definitely were,” the earth ghoul confirms. “I heard Cumulus and Dew negotiating terms weeks ago. Droplet may have just won that money from Aether but he’s going to have to give it all to Lus now because we kissed on the bus, not just before we left the Abbey.”

Rain laughs in disbelief. “You sly bastard,” he huffs out. “Did you wait to kiss me just so Dew wouldn’t win the bet?”

“Yep,” Mountain admits proudly. “What?” He asks when he sees Rain shaking his head and laughing. “You didn’t expect me to let Lus lose, did you?”

“Of course not, Mount,” Rain assures him. “I’m far too scared of her.”

Mountain hums in agreement. “She’s fucking terrifying, I do not need to be on her bad side. Forgive me?”

“Hmm,” Rain teases. “I’m not sure… Kiss me again and we’ll see?”

#mushy may #day twenty one !! #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #everyone from era iv is mentioned at least once #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #husband ficlets

[momentofmemory]

If you were going to add an episode to Teen Wolf, what would it be about?

Oh i so got u bestie; i have so many thoughts about a bonus episode in between Codominance and Sword and the Spirit (5x13 to 5x14)!! The overarching theme of the episode would be trust—how it's been broken, how it's been healed, who you choose to put your faith into (and why), etc.

A-Plot

Scott seeks out, finds, and confronts Deucalion, in response to discovering Theo is looking for him at the end of Codominance. I think you could still keep the tension of whether or not Deucalion is double crossing Scott or triple crossing Theo, and then that final showdown will feel less out of nowhere

The main people involved here would be Scott, Kira, and Stiles, as Kira processes what all happened with the skinwalkers, particularly re: her test, and gets some closure between her & Scott re: her fox

In order for it to make sense that she goes back to the skinwalkers after Codominance highlighted how much she doesn't want to be with them, this episode would have to do some groundwork of her realizing she wasn't in control when she killed the oni and "beat" the test. We see her break her sword in the next episode, so i think maybe she should try to use it again in this one—and fail. This provides some really interesting stakes for Eichen & Scott's faith in her

Also i think scira deserve a talk about scott lying to her, and feel like this could be related to the crater in his chest he also won't talk about. I think his trust in Eichen could really elevated if Scira had a scene where Scott tells her the truth about just how big her fox is, and he trusts her not only with that information, but that she can still do it

Also also Scott and Stiles actually talk about Scott dying for heaven's sake!!! We needed it so bad and I think this would be a good time for it, especially as Kira finds out about it for the first time. Then we get a sciles hug bc i said so

How their varied fears of the nogitsune vs kira's kitsune plays in very heavily here, too

Ahem so anyway this resolves with a tense scene between Scott & Deucalion where you're really not sure if you can trust him at all, and afterwards Scott is worried he's making a bad call—and Stiles says it's okay, because he doesn't trust Deucalion, he trusts Scott, and Kira follows him up by saying that either way, this time, the pack will be there to back him up.

B-Plot

I hate Eichen so bad but I think it would've helped if Lydia had had scenes with Valack when she's more cogent/given more agency—maybe something that clarifies what he was doing with Peter at the end of s4 and how that led to her?

I feel like this would have to be in a mindscape, same as she has with Meredith, so Lydia is able to respond coherently/isn't just a prop to talk at

This could also clarify some of Valack's goals/motivations more concretely and foreshadow Lydia's victory over him in Lie Ability

C-Plot

Instead of Theo telling Malia he'll help her at the end of Codominance, their arc would be drawn out over the episode. This would heighten the tension of her having to depend on him, while allowing her to wrestle more explicitly with whether or not she's looking so she can kill the Desert Wolf, or to save Deaton

At the same time Scott is reckoning with his death, Theo is reckoning with Scott's resurrection—prompted, perhaps, by Corey having realized Scott was scared of Theo in the tunnels, the same way Corey was scared of Scott

Misc

I'd love a scene with Liam & his Dad—a werewolf reveal, preferably, +Liam processing his choices re: Scott & Hayden with someone that loves him, but is removed enough from the situation to comment on Liam's responsibility

I could get a Deaton & Corinne scene, as a Treat<3

#teen wolf #scott mccall #kira yukimura #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #malia tate #lydia martin #liam dunbar #s5 #teen wolf meta

[khaire-traveler]

Not sure if you've been asked this before, but how does Hellenism view the afterlife these days? Are we still mere mortal souls doomed to eternity in Hades or, as in spiritualism and Buddhism, do souls still roam the world, seeking redemption and evolution, otherwise they are reborn again?

Hey, Nonny!

In my experience, it varies vastly from person to person. I've met worshippers who believe that nothing at all happens when we die and worshippers who believe we get to choose our own afterlives. I think it's up to us to decide what we believe. No one knows for certain what happens when we die, and as scary as that can be, it gives us the opportunity to find the answer on our own.

In general, however, the belief of The Underworld in Greek polytheism does exist. There are three levels to The Greek Underworld - Tartarus, where the shitheads go; The Asphodelian Fields, where your average person goes; Elysium, where heroes (whatever that entails) go. There is no rulebook on how to get into which afterlife, but many ancient Greek cults formed around the idea that there was some kind of secret guaranteed ticket into Elysium.

In the Orphic belief system, souls get a chance at reincarnation, despite going to The Underworld. I've met many worshippers who agree with this idea. From my understanding, in Orphism, reincarnation is a choice, but I'm genuinely not sure because I'm not too educated on this belief system.

I would like to say, though, that going to The Underworld is no damnation. Your soul isn't "doomed" if it goes there. Most people (hence, "your average person") go to The Asphodelian Fields - a beautiful field of flowers where you can spend your afterlife resting, relaxing, and being at peace. Tartarus, which can be compared to the Christian Hell, is where the truly heinous people go - the murderers, the genocidal maniacs, those who go out of their way to bring misery to others. Most people don't go to Tartarus; you have to be a special kind of evil to end up there. I would say an afterlife spent roaming beautiful fields of flowers and reconnecting with loved ones is one that is worth the wait after spending a lifetime in the chaotic world we live in.

I hope this answered your question, although I didn't share my personal beliefs regarding the afterlife. If you're curious about those, you're welcome to ask! If not, I hope this answer provided you with the information you were looking for. Take care, Nonny, and have a good day/night! 🧡

#anon asks #answered asks