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bowieandqueen11 · 7 months

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Sanji With A Clingy Reader Would Include...

Request: OH BABY telling about one piece is like unlocking a whole second heart of mine i have fully for that anime and manga and live action. and so, if you ever decided of course, you writing something similar to something you did on marvel once and sanji with reader that has no personal space and is touchy would be amazing. but also... kissing zoro is great to, if you ever decided? anyway! HOPE YOU LOVE IT (one piece i mean), and if not ignore me UwU

Ooh yess babes this is so SWEET!! :3 I LOVED IT omg hello to my latest obsession not me ordering the first collection of the manga

This was really sweet and fun to do, but I did stay up all night writing it so all comments are much appreciated!

Warning: slightly spicy, some mentions of fighting!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fanpageknight.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look at this man. Seriously, look at this man with his little bottom lip bite and eyes like the sun shines heavily out of them and tell me he would be anything less than absolutely madly, heart wrenchingly, soul crushingly enthralled with a clingy reader??? That's right you can't take the l on this one.

It all started that day when the three of you ended up shipwrecked on that sad sack excuse of a rock. When you and Sanji huddled on one side of the forsaken isle to stay away from the terrifying Pirate Zeff. His hands had shaken as he drew them up to his chest, but he mustered the nerves to string open the sack Zeff had thrown at his feet. Once he had counted out the cans, he offered all the food to you.

He wanted you to stay alive far more than himself. Ever since you had landed on his ship he had been smitten, and his weary heart would beat its last under this smothering sun as long as you would live on for the both of them.

To keep him calm: to stop his gasping, tortured heaves as he tried his best not to writhe in panic at the thought of never stepping back on safe land again, you would spent most of those 85 days sitting over the cragged edges. Sanji couldn't tear his eyes away from peering down at the gushing shards of stone below that seemed to rip up in tides and tear for his swinging feet; to try and distract him from sniffling any longer, your hand would tentatively creep over the rock until it landed flatly, and unceremoniously on top of his own. His fingers flexed beneath your own, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he folded them upwards, giving your hand a shaking squeeze: a dutiful promise, a flitting confession of love, that you just happened not to feel in your ruminations of the circumstances.

In fact, he asked you that night, in an uncharacteristically quiet and bashful voice, if you would keep his nightmares away by holding him like his mother used to. You felt terrible: you were so stunned that for a moment you stood with the last piece of mouldy bread you had in your hand in shocked silence. Poor Sanji thought you were about to reject him outright: throw what little he had left of his heart - that he had so carefully lifted out and placed in his hands to offer to you, only to have it thrown back to his feet in the usual ridicule he got for his love. His bottom lip began to tremble, until you nearly knocked him onto his bottom with how fast you dropped everything and flew over to lock him in a tight hug, not minding the fact that your shoulder was growing wetter and wetter despite the brewing rain each time Sanji buried his snivelling head against it.

So you would let him rest safely in the bracket of your arms: his left cheek resting in the warm stretch between your collar bone and your neck, his right hand draped leisurely around your waist as you told him stories of pirates and treasure: of the Deep Blue and tropical fish that shone like bursts of fragmented starlight every time their fins graced the water. Although he would groan any time you removed your hand from where you were stroking the wet strands of his hair back from his forehead, it was quickly replaced with wonderment as you would point up at a cluster of stars and whisper excitedly: 'look, there's some now!'

He had never been afraid of nights ever since that moment, not when the stars were still out and he could trace with the butt of his cigarettes the fish you had drawn specially for him in the skies. It was like a secret message: a lover's reminder that he was never alone. That you were always with him. That your beauty - your light, it shone everywhere, no matter where he was.

It was the first time he had kissed you, two forgotten children lost underneath the dripping crevice of your little hideaway. As your belly began to rise and fall underneath his elbow, and he believed you had exhausted yourself out after trying to make him feel better, he dared to dart up from your shoulder and press his lips firmly against your cheek. It had been quick, almost gliding past time like a dolphin leaping up out of the water, but it had meant so much to him that he curled up into a ball in your side and flushed a bright cerise, having to shove his fist into his mouth to stop his manic giggling from waking you up.

But you weren't asleep, and as Sanji settled back into your neck with a smile bright enough to rival the shine of buttercup petals, you swore as he began to drift off in the first peaceful dream he had had in years that one day you would return the favour, but in full.

The two of you were thick as thieves growing up, to the point where Zeff became so distracted by your antics that he often tried to separate the two of you by making you work the floor and Sanji either in the kitchens, or off fishing at the docks. Ten seconds later though, he'd be kicking through the kitchen doors again to find you leaning on the kitchen counter next to an eager faced Sanji, whose to busy to register Zeff's shouting. Instead he places the spoon to your lips, having spent half of lunch service prep cooking you a brand new recipe he had spent the whole night creating out of a medley of your favourite foods. He subconsciously licks his bottom lip, the tension in the room felt by the other chefs who try to carry on washing pans and cutting vegetables enough to put everyone on edge as Sanji refused to look anywhere but your lips. Holding his hand under your chin, his dipped eyes were broken by a sudden grin as a loud 'mmhhh' left your mouth and you chewed in sweet bliss.

Still ignoring Zeff's increasingly erratic rant, as Sanji goes to start cleaning up his pan you slide down to stand behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around your back and jutting your chin into his shoulder blade like a baby koala. You can tell he's laughing silently by the way his shoulders shake against you, but all he does is pull up your hand from his belly button to press sweet, dainty kisses up and down the lengths of your fingers, before dropping it down to press your palm flatly against his heart.

'I think that might be your greatest dish yet, buttercup!'

'From you, that means everything my precious heart.'

'Why do you call me that?', you murmur, refusing to lift your lips from his shirt.

'Well my sweet love, why do you call me buttercup? I mean, I always know I smell of butter and the likes-'.

He's distracted by your snort against the side of his neck, but the two of you are too love-strikingly embarrassed to say anything again. Even if neither of you could see the warm peach rushing up both your cheeks, Zeff could. He could also hear the padding thuds of Sanji's heart as he gripped his fingers that almost imperceptibly bit tighter around your hand, and he found himself sighing at how oblivious you two idiots were.

Sanji is definitely just as clingy as you, if not more so. You've definitely met your match in this man. I mean, any time you're out on the floor, handing out bread to tables and scanning the room to check if there were any patrons you may have to throw out by the scuff of their collars later, his eyes are trained on yours. He leans against the banisters, not even trying to remotely hide how obviously he's tracing your path with a dumbstruck, lit up smile. If you're in the kitchens, desperately trying to bite your tongue and not tear Zeff a new one as he chops his hands together and rushes you to plate up? He's sliding up to your side in an instant, throwing scathing looks at the man while trying to help you spoon thyme onto your bass, nuzzling the side of his head into yours encouragingly. If you have any free time at all? Sanji is fast on your heels, darting after you like someone's firing shots at his dress shoes, as if you have his heart tied to a string on your wrist as he seeks out whatever nook you're going to relax in. It doesn't matter if you're at the bar, watching the docks, or trying to hide from Zeff in one of the cupboards in the pantry: Sanji is squatting down and grunting as he shoves himself in right next to you. He sits criss cross, only satisfied when at least one of his knees is resting heavily over yours, and he has full access to watch what you're reading over the side of your neck.

He only fully settles, though, if you touch him in some way. He genuinely will begin mewling once your hand reaches over to brush your knuckles over his jawline, or your hand finds itself guided to bunch itself up in his hair. One time, he guided your hand into his lap, and you began to absentmindedly stroke your pointer finger along the seam of his inner thigh. Thank goodness you had your head buried in a book one of the pirate crews had come to swap some dried meats with you for, because it took every muscle in Sanji's body twitching: every finger clenching and unclenching into his knee until he drew blood not to knock you flat right there and then and kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

He gets a MASSIVE nosebleed - so gushing, in fact, that he tries to reassure you he's fine as you hold him by the elbows and lead his tilted back head and pinched nose down to Zeff for some help.

It becomes a very major recurring issue every time he looks at you. He makes sure to carry a handkerchief in his breast pocket from then on.

God, if he didn't love you more than anything in all the seas. If you weren't the only one that he let see past his charming nature: if you weren't the only person left in his life that truly could recognise the young boy left in his eyes, in his gait, in his smile, in his dreams. That little kid on that great big ship, the one who had found you stowed away behind one of the barrels of rum, and instead of calling for the crew had taken your trembling hand and led you into the kitchens, introducing you as his newest sous chef. That same kid, who stood beside you and held your hand so gently, so heartbreakingly gently under his as he guided you through lessons of chopping onions and sautéing garlic, breaking out into long strings of rushed, praising French every time you got it right. The same one, who would frown as if he were the one who had been hurt any time you burnt your hands or sliced your fingers. Who would unravel the knot at the back of his apron, and tug it over his head to carefully place it over yours.

'This always brings me luck', he would say as his fingers daintily tucked the strings underneath your shirt collar. 'But I don't need it anymore, because you've brought me all the luck and happiness a man could ever dream of, my cherie.'

The same kid who would tip toe out of his bed to sneak down to your hammock, crawling in and burying himself underneath your blankets where you slept in the brig, telling you fantastical stories about his mother until you fell sound asleep. He would watch you from where he lay on his side, hands folded by your head, as if you had hung every star in the wide skies. He would brush his fingers over the edge of your cheek and curl up beside you, wishing that every minute of every day of the rest of his life could be spent with you.

Yeah, smitten wasn't enough to cover it. Only destiny could be raw enough to draw the two of you to each other, Sanji always thought.

As teenagers, you would end every shift outside, sitting on the wonky boards of one of the jutted docks. Just sitting side by side, as you always wanted to be, pretending you weren't playing a game of chicken as the two of you teased and pressed and glanced your fingers over each other's, leaning back and looking up at the stars. Sanji always appreciated the better chance it gave him: shrouded in naught by wisps of moonlight and the rare flashing neon of ship string lights, to take you in as much as he could. You didn't mind the fact that he spent the whole time staring over at you. In fact, if you hadn't been so lovestruck, you might have found the courage to tear your head away from the horizon to meet the look of gut-wrenching devotion that always seemed to pour out of his eyes and beam only on you. It always felt like warm sunlight, sitting next to him, and so you finally dared a chance at grabbing his fingers and intertwining them between your own, pretending it was because of the sea chill spraying a fine mist over your legs.

Again, the squeeze he gave your hand was almost, almost imperceptible, but you felt it this time. And you could feel the look of enduring devotion he pierced into your skin, a warm tingle washing like a spring tide through your tired body.

He always knew. He always knew that if he had stayed on that rock, he would have been content to. Happy, even. Because he would have been with you.

'I love you', he said without words. He gave your hand another squeeze. 'I'm going to love you forever. No matter how many lifetimes. No matter who I am. I'm always going to find you, and I'm always going to love you.'

His voice nearly made you jump, surprising you at how it started with his usual buttery smoothness, before cracking with a thick gulp as his words trailed of. 'Never leave without me.'

'I promise, as long as you don't leave without me.'

He shakes his head. 'You never leave me. Not even for a moment.'

Sometimes, when the two of you are older, he still comes stealing into your room at night, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as his lips wobble into a frightened frown. Turns out, as he draws the covers back and comes reaching in for you, he had another nightmare that pirates had come to steal you away from him again. With an aching sigh for how stricken he looked, how desolate, you let him claw at your shirt and bury his head into the side of your neck until the rest of the world melted away.

He kissed you again, that night. When the feel of his legs strewn familiarly between your own began to burn against his skin, and the weight of hand perched over his thrumming heart became too heavy to bear in secret. With nothing but the light streaming like shards of pearly stars through the porthole to betray a moment so special, so longed for, Sanji let his eyelashes flutter close as he slowly... slowly pressed his lips against your cheek again.

This time, his eyes widened in shock as the feeling of your hand gripping at his jaw and turning his face straight on to your own. Before he can even open his mouth in confusion, the sweet pressure of your lips pressed against his top one. For a moment, Sanji doesn't move an inch: doesn't even breath, not even processing that the thing he’s spent every moment of his waking and sleeping life wishing for ever since he found you on that boat was actually happening, right here right now. He tries really hard to stop his whole body from shaking, as his silky lashes finally falter shut against the top of your cheeks and he tries to focus his whole attention on the way your plush lip seems to press so perfectly against his own.

When he finally pulls away, he lets out a loud 'OW' as he pinches his arm.

'What did you do that for!?'

'I had to double check this wasn't a dream, my sweets!'

And then he's on you again, like a ravished man gasping for air. God, he wasn't sure if soulmates were real, but when your top lip pulled down against his, and he could feel the thud of your heart synch against his own beneath the tips of his fingers, if he didn't know that he was yours.

He stays in your room a lot more often after that, using it as an excuse for you to help him button up his shirt during sleepy mornings, smiling at the feel of your fingers as they knocked against the muscles of his chest. It was also his favourite part of the day - the good morning kiss the two of you shared before you raced down to be at your shifts before Zeff decided to knock your heads together.

One time you forgot to give him one, too distracted by one of the sous chefs busting into your room with a bloodied nose and a chipped front tooth, whistling through the gap as he begged you to come down to the main foyer and help him break out a fist fight that had started between two gangs of rival pirates. The pout on Sanji's face that day was enough to make even the most bounty-heavy pirate's knees tremble. Every other chef steered way clear of his station, watching the arch of his back and the jaw in his muscle jump as he busied himself by frying his steak of tuna, so gutted at the loss of just one kiss. Not angry, no: just grief stricken, because this man seriously just adores you that much.

When you finally get your lunch break, the first thing you do is throw your napkin down on the kitchen ground and grab Sanji by his suit collar, enjoying the surprise tilt of his head as he drops his spoon onto his serving tray and allows you to lead his feet backwards to the fire exit. As soon as he's outside, you slam him gently against the wooden beams of the Baratie restaurant, and kissed him silly to make up for it. His look of trusting confusion suddenly melt into jumping heart eyes when your knee slides up between his thighs to try and pin him in place. His breathing comes out in harsh, shallow gasps between ferocious kisses, and you have to press him back against the wall every time he comes arching forward to follow your head for even more kisses. No, this was about you making him feel good. And by goodness, as your tongue pressed against the seam of his lips and tentatively ran over his front teeth, if he wasn't two seconds away from falling to his knees right there and then.

When you let him go, he slides down the wall like putty until he's sitting with legs stretched out and both his suit and hair a ruffled mess. He's literally never been more deliriously happy in his whole life.

Your favourite time of the day is when the restaurant closes, and the two of you finally have the kitchens to yourselves. Once you've tossed your aprons back onto the rack with a tired sigh, the only thing that can cheer you up is the sound of Sanji kicking his chair back with the toe of his shoe, and the sight of him beckoning you over to him with that tilted head and pearly beam of his. Mmh, how safe you feel, how loved as you collapse down to sit on his knees, and he tucks you in between the brackets of his arms in a vice so tight it could match any Marine knot.

You take one of his hands off the pen he was holding, turning his palm round to face you so you could fiddle with the rings he was wearing. You draw one up, curling his finger before your eyes, before slotting one off and sliding it onto your own ring finger. It was the one his father had given him: one he so loathed to wear, and yet felt guilt bore down too heavily on his conscious to ever take it off. You turned the one on top of it, one you know Zeff had given him after his first day working at the Baratie, and you smiled at the memory.

'You know', you start, still fiddling with his hand, feeling him shift his thighs as you pressed a gentle kiss on the pointer finger you were currently grasping onto. 'I may just have to keep this one.'

'Oh yeah?', he says dreamily, and you could feel his grin growing as he hid his burning face in the nape of your neck. 'Don't worry sweetheart. One day, once I find the perfect one, I'll give you a ring of your own.'

The two of you sneak out and share cigarettes out the back door a lot, where Sanji steps forward and kisses you like a man possessed every time you pinch the stub from out of his mouth and draw it along your bottom lip teasingly. When you try to get him to go back in, he just wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, spinning you around to stop you from leaving him alone. Laughing, you try to shove him off, swatting at the hands that form a tight clasp over your belly button, until his large fingers finally slide down to hold your waist. You glance behind you, smirking at the way his eyes are tightly shut in euphoria as ducks down, chest nearly enveloping in his desperation to reach your face again. His kisses become sloppier: smoke stained as they leave wet trails up your jaw, before he finally gives in and tries to make you laugh one last time by nibbling at the lobe of your ear.

Whenever he has a fight with Zeff, you have to hold him afterwards. The feel of your fingers curling the hair at the nape of his neck, or rubbing soothing circles into the sore muscles of his shoulders stops the furious darts of air from flaring his nostrils almost immediately.

Man has blaring heart eyes 100% whenever he's in a fight with rowdy customers, and you get to kick the flashy knife out of the last one's hand before the pirate could launch straight for Sanji's neck. He tilts his head at you with those amazed eyes, a gentle smile growing almost shyly on his face like a secret wink, before he throws his now empty plate at the pirate trying to sneak up behind your back. The crash echoes out through the booth area, a cry so furious: so full of rage that anyone would try and dare hurt you, that it makes all the remaining pirate crews crawl out towards the door on their hands and knees.

Stitching each other up afterwards is a motherfcking mess though, that Zeff straight up just abandons all hope of being able to use his kitchen. With a defeated rub of his pounding temples, he lets the door slam shut on his heel because he just can't deal with the two of you. He'd much rather pick up a brush and start sweeping bits of crushed and splattered asparagus off the floors than have to watch you to battle it out in a stiff competition of who could be more sickeningly, maddingly in love with the other. Between you standing between Sanji's entrapping thighs, closing you in tighter so you could have full access to kiss his bobbing Adam's apple as you use a rag to swipe bits of dry sauce off his neck, and him throwing his head back and whimpering, Zeff was going to go insane. Even worse, as soon as you're finished, Sanji's reaching between your fingers to lick split consomme off your nose.

The two of you are literally insufferable, and if every one apart from Zeff doesn't find it the cutest thing I-

When Luffy comes and wrangles Sanji into joining his crew, the chef's first thought is to be distraught. He seeks you out straight away, nearly breaking some poor fisherman's pole as he tries to hurdle over it and grip onto your shoulders, making you drop the barrel of dried meats you were carrying from Luffy onto the planks and watching Luffy nearly dangle off the edge of his ship to stop it from rolling into the ocean.

'Y/n- I- I can't go!'

'You're hardly scared!'

'I'm not scared of going, I'm terrified of going without you!'

You let him pour his heart out for a moment, before stopping his rambling, near sobbing mess of a sentence by bopping the tip of his nose. You giggle, swiping some hair from his forehead. 'Sanji, Luffy asked me to come first. I promised I wouldn't go without you, and I meant it.'

You manage to unlatch his twitching hand from your left shoulder, and give it an almost imperceptible squeeze. The tears that threatened to fall from his eyes finally cascade down, although he's so relieved that he's smiling through the blurriness. You swipe them away with your free thumb, finally, after all these years, feeling the squeeze of your hand that Sanji gives you back, before he envelops you in a breath taking hug.

'Awww, you guys are so sweet!', Luffy calls out from where he's hanging by his sandal off the railing of his ship. 'But could someone give me a hand before my hat falls into the waves? That would not be very cool.'

The first thing the two of you do once you're on The Going Merry is to find your bunk. Sanji isn't very subtle when he kicks your door shut with his heel, and comes scampering towards you like an upended sand crab, pinching for you until he's hefted you up over his shoulder and has unceremoniously landed you in your shared hammock. He's quick to jump in, straddling you as the hammock sways back and forth with the commotion.

He nearly starts crying again when he sees a flash of silver poke out from underneath your neckline; he grazes his hand over the chain, recognising it as his father's ring you had taken months ago. The one he had hated so much. The one you had tried to save him from. A small piece of him. A weight you tried to bear for him. A reminder of how much he was loved.

A confused Zoro, not realising there are new crew members on board, follows the sound of Sanji's voice crooning out how much he adores you, and how he loves you more than every star in the sky, down past the window on your bedroom door. Let's just say, he's not very impressed when he catches sight of the hammock swinging wildly from side to side, and an array of clothes thrown out and discarded in a mess around it.

#one piece #sanji #one piece imagine #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #sanji headcanons #opla #monkey d luffy #zoro #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji headcanons

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seabirdtxt · 1 year

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Glitch in Irminsul

The creator descends to Teyvat, but the information they know VS the information that Irminsul retains causes the tree of knowledge to glitch out and ‘branches’ the current known state of Teyvat, and the information that was erased blooms into existence once more [Blog tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, Reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. there ARE shenanigans of a different kind though. No romantic relationships in this one despite aforementioned shenanigans

WC. 3.8k

----- ⚘ -----

“You’re just mad because I’m the Creator’s babygirl, and you’re not.”

You’ve never heard such an absurd sentence in your life, but the hands on his hips and smug expression on the Wanderer’s face is unmistakable. Across from him, just barely restrained by Lord Rukkhadevata hooking her arms under his shoulders, is an apoplectic Scaramouche.

Nobody is entirely sure what happened to Irminsul, yet, but the Tree of Wisdom continues to cheerfully cast its divine light on the scene below without a single care for the chaos it has caused.

“Now now, let’s all settle down for a moment,” Nahida grasps at Wanderer’s sleeves, trying to pull him back from the increasingly tense situation. You can’t help but think of two dogs pulling at the end of their leashes to bark at each other. “I’m sure there is a perfectly logical reason why this is happening.”

You think it might be because of you, considering this all happened when you made your inopportune arrival in Teyvat and accidentally cut your hand on the stem of a Leyline flower, your blood glittering strangely as it was sucked into the plant.

“There’s no way you’re the Creator’s favourite,” Scaramouche sneers, ignoring Nahida in his effort to escape from Rukkhadevata’s grasp. “You’re just a glorified errand-boy for your betters. I have the power of a Fatui Harbinger at my fingertips! Countless soldiers, ready to live and die by my whims!”

“Ha!” Wanderer brushes off Nahida’s attempts to restrain him. He moves her to the side, far more gently than you expected him to, and strides up to where Lord Rukkhadevata is holding Scaramouche. He pokes the Balladeer’s cheek and smirks when he nearly gets his fingertip bit off. “And what has that gotten you so far? You still haven’t gotten to be a true god. On the other hand, I’m on the Creator’s main exploration team, along with the Traveler and other equally powerful Vision wielders. At least I have proof that I’m favoured.”

The light from Irminsul glints off the polished metal of Wanderer’s anemo Vision, and Scaramouche’s frown deepens.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Anyone and their mothers can get a Vision these days.” He waves his hand dismissively as best as he can. “Need I remind you of the Vision Hunt Decree project that I—oh, sorry, I mean you—spearheaded? Those things come a mora a dozen.”

“I think you’re both wrong, clearly the Creator likes me the best!”

The two incarnations turn toward the new voice so quickly you’re nearly afraid their heads might snap off. Picture this: you, sitting sideways across Kabukimono's lap with your arms around his neck in a hug as he rocks the two of you back and forth. You wonder if Kabukimono is aware of the effect his words have on his other selves, but judging by his ‘cat that caught the canary’ expression he most definitely is.

The look Wanderer gives you is nearly scandalized, and you can only shrug at him with a helpless smile.

“Sorry guys… but look at him! Isn’t he just the sweetest thing?” you bring a hand up and pinch Kabukimono’s cheek, causing him to giggle and kick his legs in surprise, nearly dislodging you from your spot.

“He’s kinda pathetic, really.” Scaramouche deadpans, finally having stopped struggling in Rukkhadevata’s hold, and attempts to cross his arms.

“He’s you. You don’t have to like him, but at least be polite.” the Greater Lord scolds, making him yelp by shaking him like a sack of rocks. She then changes to a more matter-of-fact tone as she shakes her hair out of her face, and adds: “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

“I agree, let’s talk this over like grown-ups, and get to the bottom of this mystery so we can send you all back home to your correct timelines!” Nahida claps her hands together, interrupting any argument that might break out at Rukkhadevata’s statement. Her smile is starting to look a little strained at the edges and you can’t help but feel a little bad for the tiny god.

“This might be the only correct timeline,” the Traveler mutters, chin resting in their hand where they sit propped up against one of Irminsul’s invisible walls.

“That’s right!” Paimon nods and shakes her finger at Nahida. “We assumed only the Descenders’ memories would remain intact when someone erases themself from Irminsul, but clearly the Creator’s memories still exist too!”

Lord Rukkhadevata drops Scaramouche at last, letting him land on the ground with an annoyed oof, and turns to you consideringly. The taller god glances between you and Irminsul, worrying her bottom lip as she thinks.

“If that were wholly true, then wouldn’t I have reappeared in my last known state, diminished to the form of a child due to having depleted my power?” she wonders. “And for that matter, why have two versions of the Wanderer appeared, when the previous erased timeline only contained the Balladeer?”

The Traveler hums as they begin to think out loud, and your attention shifts to them when they address you. “When we found you, your Grace, you were recently injured by a Leyline blossom, correct?”

You nod in agreement, not bothering to speak as you settle more comfortably into Kabukimono’s arms, the long sleeves of his kimono wrapping over you like a blanket. Whatever mechanism is inside him causes his entire chest to vibrate against the side of your head, as if he’s purring.

“And you did mention that your blood was absorbed into the flower, which we know is an extension of the Tree of Wisdom…”

“I think I can see where you’re going with this, Traveler,” Nahida interrupts. Using her power, she draws two green puzzle pieces in the air and slowly pushes them together until one of them overlaps with the other. “If the Creator’s memories are intact, then it stands to reason that, should their memories somehow be introduced into Irminsul, then the information with the greater priority will overwrite the previous existing information.”

“That still doesn’t explain why there’s three of me.” Wanderer crosses his arms and kicks Scaramouche, who has yet to get up. The Balladeer crosses his own arms, pointedly ignoring his newer incarnation.

“I believe I can answer that, now.” Lord Rukkhadevata jerks her thumb toward the Tree of Wisdom. “Having known Irminsul my entire existence, I can sense that there have been deviations in its growth. Where normally the trunk and branches originate from a single organism, there are now several branches that seem to be… grafted, for lack of a better term, onto the main plant. Likely a result of the Creator’s mishap.”

“So instead of overwriting or restoring knowledge into the correct branches, it just got added on to the side?” Paimon asks, floating closer to the tree before the Traveler grabs her by the back of her cloak and pulls her back before she can accidentally touch any of the sprouts.

Nahida claps excitedly. “Correct! All available information is now running concurrently, meaning that all states of being have been altered to allow the five of us to exist at the same time!”

“Oh!” you exclaim, startling Kabukimono out of his contented state. “Like a glitch in the matrix!”

Seven pairs of eyes turn directly toward you, varying degrees of bemusement on each of their faces. You chuckle a bit and sink further into Kabukimono’s lap out of embarrassment. He dutifully wraps his arms tighter around you, obscuring you with his long sleeves.

“So we’re just going to let you not elaborate on that at all?” Scaramouche drawls, throwing a hand in your direction. “By all means, keep us in suspense. It’s not like we need to know what our situation is or anything.”

“It’s really not that helpful, I promise!” you tell them, muffled by the kimono’s fabric. “It’s just… a figure of speech, I guess? It’s just something we say when something unexplainable happens. It’s based off this story where, like, the world is fake-”

At this, Scaramouche and the Wanderer share a brief glance, unnoticed by the rest.

“- and everything is programmed to be a certain way. So when something unexplainable happens, like if you see a black cat walking past you and then a minute later the exact same cat walks past you again! It’s an error, or a glitch, in the programming of the world.”

Nahida and Rukkhadevata head over to investigate the new growths on Irminsul, discussing what you’ve told them in hushed voices, leaving the Traveler to mitigate the situation with the three puppets. Kabukimono clings to you as Scaramouche attempts to pull you out of his lap, the two of them making you wince as you’re forced to withstand their tug of war.

“No! The Creator is my friend now!” Kabukimono protests. “Stop pulling, you’ll hurt them!”

“Then let go and it won’t hurt them anymore, stupid!”

“Niwa told me you have to be nice to people if you want them to do things for you.”

“I know for a fact your precious Niwa also said I’m allowed to take whatever the hell I want, so give!”

“I really don’t think that’s what he meant by that,” Wanderer interjects, coming between the two of them and forcing them apart. “Besides, does the creator call you guys babygirl? No? Didn’t think so, so I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Taking advantage of their surprise, Wanderer scoops you up and launches into the air, anemo power whirring behind him, putting you both out of reach. You shriek at the sudden movement, holding onto the front of Wanderer’s outfit for dear life.

“What, this again? I’m not sure if you want me to be jealous of you, or pity you.” Scaramouche scowls up at where you two are hovering. He tries to look unaffected but you can see him clenching his fists at his side.

“I still don’t actually know what that’s supposed to mean…” Kabukimono wrings his hands and looks between you and the Traveler, who supplies an explanation for you.

“It’s just a term of endearment from the Creator’s world,” they say. “You wouldn’t believe how often I had to hear it when they were possessing me-”

“Hey, what are you doing?!”

Everyone turns to look at where you and Wanderer are. The puppet is trying not to drop you while also batting away your attempts at removing the outer layer of his outfit.

“Hold still!” you grumble. “I’m just trying to figure out if you can purr, too, but I can’t hear anything over the sound of your anemo ability.”

“What are you talking about?! I don’t purr!”

“I do!”

The four of you turn to Kabukimono as he demonstrates the ability, the mechanisms in him working overtime to produce a loud rumble from his chest. The Traveler and Paimon are particularly impressed, and Kabukimono preens under their attention.

“Cut that out, idiot,” Scaramouche smacks the back of Kabukimono’s head, successfully cutting off the noise. “You’re just going to overheat, and then we’ll be stuck carrying around your powered-down body until you start up again.”

“You know how he does that? Does that mean you can do it too?” Paimon asks, her face scrunched up at the idea of the Balladeer doing anything that could be seen as endearing.

“Absolutely not.”

“We can all do that,” Wanderer says at the same time, earning a betrayed look from Scaramouche. “It’s not purring though. You all remember that we’re puppets, right?”

“Yeah….?” The Traveler nods along with Paimon.

“Well, the prototype machinery inside us is what makes that noise.” Wanderer explains. “We can control the speed and make it as slow or as fast as we want, so making it run extra fast makes it louder. However, it also makes the machinery heat up, and if it gets too hot then the failsafe kicks in and shuts off the entire system.”

“Does that mean the Raiden Shogun can purr, too?” The Traveler wonders out loud, successfully distracting Paimon with the absurdity of that mental image.

“What happens to you if it overheats?” You ask, wondering if you should feel bad for enjoying it when Kabukimono purred.

“It’s like fainting for humans,” Scaramouche adds. “Which is why we don’t do that. Nobody likes having to carry around a useless burden.”

“But it’s not dangerous, is it?”

“No, it’s just a lot of trouble. Same as for humans, but no. No lasting damage.” Wanderer then sighs and makes a face even as he pulls you into a semblance of a hug. “Here, I’ll allow it this time, because it’s you...”

Your eyes widen as Wanderer begins to purr as well, audible even over the sound of his anemo power. With a delighted gasp, you throw your arms around him and listen happily, unaware of the glares Wanderer is receiving from below. The Traveler rolls their eyes when Wanderer points at your back and mouths ‘favourite’ at Scaramouche.

“Wanderer, if you’re done being jealous could you please bring the Creator back down?” Nahida calls, and you peek down to see that she and Lord Rukkhadevata have finished their discussion. They wait below, where Scaramouche and Kabukimono were earlier. The two puppets are now a little bit further away, bickering while the Traveler supervises them.

“I’m jealous?” Wanderer scoffs, hoisting you up so you can rest on his hip as he holds you with one hand, the other used to gesture down at Nahida rudely. “You even dare to imply-”

“Please bring the Creator down.” Rukkhadevata repeats, hands on her hips. “Don’t make me come up there and get you.”

You have to stifle a laugh as Wanderer slowly brings the two of you back down, making sure your feet are firmly on the ground before letting you go. You don’t bother to mention how you notice that Wanderer’s body actually is noticeably warmer after purring. You smooth the wrinkles of your clothes and turn to the two Dendro Archons with a smile.

“You guys give off such mom energy,” you tell them. “So, what’s up? Did you figure out anything else?”

“You forget that I was a queen before I was a god,” Rukkhadevata points out. “I know what it’s like to stymie conflict before it becomes a problem. Diplomatically, of course.”

Nahida nods in agreement. “Of course. And yes, Your Grace, we did come to some conclusions! Though, not all of them are final, mostly regarding Wanderer and his counterparts. There are some hypotheses we will need to investigate before we can say for sure…”

“Still kinda wish you wouldn’t call me that,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck. The lofty title is uncomfortable to hear, when you still feel like any ordinary person. “But let’s hear it then. What did you guys come up with?”

“For the most part, exactly the same conclusion that we came to earlier.” Nahida says, drawing in the air with glowing green lines. She draws a tree, and then draws some branches in a different shade. “Your arrival in Teyvat brought a ‘backup’ of knowledge which, when reintroduced to the Leylines, conflicted with the current state of things and instead created additional information that now exists at the same time as the current timeline.”

“That being said,” Rukkhadevata adds her own glowing lines to Nahida’s drawing, in a deeper and more intense green. She circles one branch, and says: “I believe that this timeline’s Dendro Archon remains Lesser Lord Kusanali. Irminsul seems to have resolved this conflict by making it so that my sacrifice to eradicate Forbidden Knowledge was not my life, but rather my godhood.”

“What does that mean for you?” You ask.

“It means that I am now happily retired!” Rukkhadevata exclaims, smiling brightly. “And from what I’ve seen of the information recorded in Irminsul, I have an old friend in Liyue who also recently finds himself with a wealth of spare time. It’s been a few centuries since I last saw him, perhaps I should pay him a visit.”

“Wow, congratulations! I’m sure Zhongli would be glad for the company.” You hug her excitedly, and she returns the gesture with a bright laugh.

“Is that the name he’s going by, now? It would certainly help to have a less recognisable name, I suppose…” Rukkhadevata ponders, and you can hear her humming as she thinks. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll just use my old name. From now on, please call me Aranyani!”

Nahida joins in on your hug, practically bouncing with excitement, and you pick up the tiny god so she can see you both. “I’m so glad for you, Aranyani! I’ve always wanted to meet you,” she exclaims with a shy smile. “I have so many things I want to ask!”

“And you are always free to share in my knowledge, little sapling,” Aranyani coos, patting Nahida’s head affectionately before you all release each other, letting Nahida back down gently.

“So what are we going to do about those two clowns?” Wanderer says and you jump a little in surprise, forgetting he was still there.

You turn to where the rest of the group is. Kabukimono seems to have finally had enough and is tousling on the floor with Scaramouche. The Traveler is attempting to haul the Balladeer away, while Paimon grabs onto the back of Kabukimono’s veil and is yanking him in the other direction. To a very small degree of effectiveness.

“Both of you, please stop!” Nahida rushes forward, and the two puppets spring apart like the other is on fire.

“He started it!” Kabukimono points at Scaramouche accusingly and the Balladeer moves to grab him again, but is easily stopped by the Traveler pulling him back by grabbing his wrists.

“It doesn’t matter who started it,” you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. You put on a stern face and your best ‘disappointed parent’ voice. “I sort of expected more from you two…”

Kabukimono’s devastated expression is enough for you to drop the pretense. You sigh and open your arms and beckon, and Kabukimono happily throws himself into your hug.

“Fine, fine!” You grumble, patting the top of Kabukimono’s head. “As long as you guys aren’t, like, maiming or seriously injuring each other, I guess it’s okay.”

“Yay!”

That’s about as far as you get before Nahida takes Kabukimono’s hand and leads him away, and begins informing him of the history of the world and catching him up to speed on the current timeline. Wanderer and the Traveler chime in every so often, adding in some details that the archon might have missed. Aranyani seems to have already taken her leave, leaving only you and Scaramouche behind.

You pretend not to notice as the disgruntled ex-Harbinger shuffles closer to you, until he bumps his shoulder against yours.

“Hey,” he begins, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’ve been meaning to ask, but all these annoying idiots kept interrupting me…”

You wait for a minute, until it’s clear he isn’t going to continue until you say something. “Yes? What’s the matter?”

He exhales through his nose and refuses to make eye contact with you. At the edges of your vision, you can see him fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” he finally spits out. “I mean, clearly I don’t quite fit in with the rest of these happy-go-lucky morons. I can’t imagine you intended for someone like me to show up.”

“Why not?” You blurt out, more out of surprise than anything else. “I like having you here.” It’s clearly the wrong thing to say, as Scaramouche begins to close off again.

“Don't bother lying to me,” he snaps, facing you with the full brunt of his annoyance. He crosses his arms and sneers at you, looking at you down the bridge of his nose. “I’m not some sad, weak little puppet who needs to be coddled by the likes of you. So save your meaningless placations for someone who would actually feel better after hearing them. You’re only wasting your time, and mine.”

“Okay, no lies then,” you nod, and watch as he braces himself for whatever you’ll say next. “I’m glad you’re here, in a world where every part of you can exist at the same time. And I’m glad I can be here with you to remind you that you’re the sum of all your parts, good and bad, and that I do want you to be here, in all your entirety.”

Scaramouche’s face is carefully blank, and you wonder for a second if he somehow shut down without you noticing. You wave a hand in front of his face, watching as his eyes track your palm. You’re about to say something else when you feel a hand come down on your shoulder heavily.

“Simp.” Wanderer states, patting you with a teasing look on his face.

“What?!” You jump away from him with an indignant squawk. “I am not-”

“Absolutely down bad.” The Traveler adds, and you reach clumsily to slap at the two of them. You miss both by miles.

“I can’t believe I taught you guys words from my world and this is how you repay me!”

“Sorry to interrupt, Your Grace!” Nahida looks properly apologetic at the treatment you’re receiving. “We were just discussing what to do with all of the new people. The Traveler has kindly offered to introduce you to their friendly teapot adeptus in order to have a realm created for you, and Wanderer’s incarnations can stay with you in the new realm!”

“That’s perfect!” you say quickly, eager to escape any more teasing from your team. You avoid Scaramouche’s probing gaze and turn your heated face away from him to look at Nahida and the Traveler. “When can we go? Can we go right now?”

The Traveler nods and holds out a thin tab of wood that you recognize as their realm dispatch. It’s strange to see it in person, for some reason you expected it to be bigger than it actually is. The entire thing can fit in the palm of one hand, like a credit card. “We can go as soon as you’re authorized, Your Grace!”

You’re giddy as you take the dispatch into your hands, rubbing the engraved surface with reverence. You feel a strange sensation, like pins and needles, as the magic in the dispatch settles over you. “This is so cool, you guys. I can’t wait to meet Tubby! Do you think she’ll make me a teapot, too, or something else?”

In your excitement you grab onto both the Traveler and Wanderer, silently begging them to come with you. Just as the three of you touch the surface of the teapot, Wanderer turns to Scaramouche with a pointed look and grins.

“Favourite.” He says smugly as he vanishes.

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact #genshin self aware au #genshin isekai #self aware genshin #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #genshin kabukimono #sagau scaramouche #sagau wanderer #sagau kabukimono #sagau x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kabukimono x reader #< all currently platonic tho #seabird.txt #glitch in irminsul AU

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peachesofteal · 7 months

Note

Medieval/and or fantasy ghoap x reader AU? Ghost and Soap are Knights under the 141 legion and happen to walk into a town where everyone is accusing reader of being some demon/ practicing witchcraft (she has anxiety).

🏰🗡️🔮 okay, okay. With a few changes. A lot of changes, sorry! 18+ MDNI / rescue, comfort, etc no smut

“You cannot p-p-possibly-“ the magistrate stutters, hands out in front of his body as if he even has a sliver of a chance of fending them off.

Simon stalks forward, bloodied sword gleaming in the candle light, silver stained with ruby ichor, the remnants of the hired protection outside, all slain, all dying.

The hired protection that he paid for, with the coin he made off of you.

“Ye cannae possibly believe,” Johnny snarls, steps vibrating with rage. “That ye’ll be talkin’ yer way out o’ this one.”

“She’s possessed, she-“

“Do not bother to lie. You do not believe it. We know you’ve been using her.” Simon barks. “We’ve heard the tales. The tongues wag far and wide over the rumors about your seer.”

“She needs healing, and my healers are uniquely qualified, experienced with witchcraft.” The magistrate whines, still stepping backwards on his heels, eyes wide, sweat dripping from his temple.

“Ye stole her!” Johnny roars, shouldering past Simon. “Ye waited until we were called away and then ye broke into our home and took her.” The magistrate shakes his head.

“She needs-“

“She needs nothing from you. Except to be free.” Simon cracks his neck. “And for you to be dead.”

“No. No, you can’t. I’m a- a noble. You cannot just-“

“Aye. We can.”

“Tell us where she is, and perhaps, we’ll let you live.” Simon counters, and the magistrate relaxes, body going languid like a fool.

“She’s in the room. At the end of the hall.” He grabs at a key around his neck, and Johnny rips it away, worn leather string breaking free without much effort.

“Johnny.” It’s a hum, an order, and he grins with his answer, whistling his way down the hall.

The last thing the magistrate sees is the swing of Simon’s sword, cleaving through the air, headed straight for his neck.

“Darling?” The room is dark. It smells, reeks of blood and bile, and his stomach turns. This is where he’s been hiding you? After all the coin that heathen made from your visions, this is the best he could give you? “Darling? Are ye in here?” There’s nothing, no response, no whisper of your sweet voice. Just the sound of shaky breathing, whimpering. “It’s me. It’s Johnny.”

He can just barely see the outline of your shoulder under the window, and he crouches, reaching towards your knee, brushing his fingertips over your skin.

“N-no.” You whisper, and he frowns.

“It’s Johnny. Simon’s here too. We’re here now, darling, ye’re safe.” The doors swings, banging into the stone wall, you startle, flinching against the window.

“Johnny?” Simon murmurs, coming to stand behind him, hand on his shoulder.

“Ah dinnae- she-“

“Those who walk in the woods will see their feet stained with blood.” You croak, shivering.

“Wot?” Simon questions, but you don’t respond.

They can just barely make out the sight of your dress, more of a sack, torn and tattered, encrusted with dirt and blood and goddess knows what else.

“We need tae get her out o’ here.” Johnny’s voice stays low, cautious. Worried.

“Darling, can you hear me?” Simon tries, but you still say nothing, little noises coming from your mouth every other moment.

He rocks forward to take you into his arms, hoping the familiarity will calm you, bring you back to yourself.

But you let out a bloodcurdling scream instead, the terror in your voice so rich, so real, he nearly loses his grip on your struggling body.

You fight them. Clawing and ripping and tearing, hands wild, tugging at Johnny’s hair, Simon’s clothes, until they’ve got your arms pinned down, Johnny cooing to you softly.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. Breathe for me, darling. Jus’ breathe.” You’re still struggling, still trying wrench yourself free, and when you thrash, you face catches the moonlight.

That’s when they see it.

Johnny chokes on his gasp, and Simon cups your chin, tilting your eyes back towards the light, back towards the window to reveal the horrifying truth.

Your eyes are completely white. Pupils, irises, blood vessels, all fogged out, covered with creamy, milky white that looks more like the moon than your beautiful eyes that they’ve known, loved, so dearly.

“No.” Johnny whispers. You whimper, head swinging, eyebrows creased, chest heaving.

Their worst fears, realized. They always knew this was a possibility but… for it to happen when you were being held captive. When they couldn’t be here. When they weren’t able to help you, comfort you.

The terror you must have felt.

“She only sees with the Sight now.” Simon says. “It’s why she doesn’t recognize us. She’s lost herself to it, to the Goddess.”

You blink rapidly, like you’re hearing them, head cocking slightly toward their voices, and Simon strokes a thumb down your cheek.

“Shhh.” Johnny hums, and you settle, a bit dejected, but quieting in their arms as they hold you. “Just breathe. Good girl, nice an’ slow for us.” After you get two lungfuls, they shift, Simon’s arms curling around your body and holding you close as Johnny opens the door.

“Let’s go home, darling.”

#I could write this for real but I don’t have the bandwidth so #have this instead #peaches asks #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #female reader

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sehtoast · 1 month

Text

Perfect Punishment (Homelander x gn!Reader Smut)

18+ | spanking, leg humping, technically supe!reader (vague), sublander, light choking | Fic Directory

Suffice it to say, you're never quite sure how you end up in these situations. Granted, the common denominator in all of them was that Homelander was an endlessly voracious man in need of an infinite amount of attention, and he'd go to any lengths to get it.

Even this.

“Mmm, harder…” He hums as your palm strikes his rear, a playful grin etching into his face at the resounding slap.

“I thought this was a punishment,” you say as you rub soothing circles over the red of his briefs. “Doesn’t really count if you like it.” You're almost ready to stop and leave him hanging as a real punishment.

“Right, right. Ah! Ow!”

You roll your eyes at his theatrics. You'd teased him about being such a bad boy, but it seemed like he was all too happy to fill that role. His behavior cranked past ten, and now here you are: The Homelander himself bent over your knee, underwear pulled down just a smidge and pants at his ankles.

You're not even sure who made the spanking joke first, but god knows his eyes practically lit up like a Christmas tree at the mere mention.

For his smart comment, you swat significantly harder. You could never actually hurt him– maybe just sting him a little. In fact, you have a sneaking suspicion that the power dynamic reversal is what has him rocking against your thigh like the needy little thing he is. So pathetically horny at the idea of being weak and vulnerable for you.

Of being punished by you.

Not even his commentary could hide it.

“Oooh, that one tickled.” He snarks one more time, but his voice betrays him completely. A slight quiver in his words, a shaky breath exhaled, cheeks turning a light pink. “C'mon, babe. Give it to me. Unless you're all talk…”

Antagonistic little…

You grip his briefs and rip them clean off, revealing his bare ass to knead and squeeze to your heart's content. You loop an arm around his neck, restricting his throat between your forearm and bicep, tugging him just enough to make his back arch.

“You're a very bad boy,” you whisper, nails scratching his glutes. What little fabric survived the rip still miraculously covers his cock as he grinds against you unabashedly. You wind up for the swing and–

“Mmph!”

Like music to your ears, he chokes on the cutest little sound. Something squeaky and precious, surprise vocalizing high in his throat at your sudden brazenness and strength.

“You just wanted to hump my leg like a dog, didn't you?” You accuse, tightening your arm at his neck. You rub your last strike tenderly, letting your fingers slip along the curve of his crack. You can practically feel the way he shivers against you. “You’re makin’ a mess down there, aren’t you baby?”

Even pressed firm against your leg, you can feel his drooling cock twitch with need. The surviving scrap of fabric has to be drenched at this rate– you can almost feel the heated moisture and you know damn well his cock weeps practically the whole time he’s aroused on a regular day.

A breathy moan escapes his slack mouth the second your fingertips graze his sack, hips bucking forward to seek more of whatever delicious friction he'd found against your lap.

“You just wanted to lay on me and get played with like the little whore you are.” You trail your hand back and grip a cheek as hard as you can, nails biting into his flesh. “Admit it. You acted out for attention.”

“Mmm, yeah– fuck,” he confesses through a breathless whisper.

For his honesty, you reward him with a warm palm to his balls, feeling them tighten every time a pulse of pleasure surges through his body from how you play with him.

He keens softly, eyes screwing shut against the twist of bliss knotting in his core. He ruts even more brazenly than before, as if he wasn’t just getting spanked mere moments prior for always having to have his way. Your body rocks with the strength of his thrusts, so you angle your leg to press back against him. Sure, he was being ‘punished,’ but you’re not totally cruel.

“You wanna be my good boy, right?” You ask ever so innocently in his ear, breath fanning against the shell of it in a way that makes him arch further back. His mindless little nods make you grin sharply. “I thought so…”

Your hand comes down with a sharp crack against his right cheek and he writhes against you, mewling through his restricted throat.

“Count ‘em off for me,” you say, squeezing his neck a little more. You let off for a moment only to remind him to speak up if something’s too much, then squeeze again.

Slap!

“O-One!” He announces, hips bucking against you.

You can hear it in his voice– he’s like a time bomb ready to blow. His expression is infinitely more desperate. Hooded red eyes, cheeks burning a deep crimson, tongue peeking out just over the edge of his lower lip. If there was ever an image fit to sit beside whore in a dictionary, it was the sight of him like this.

“Tell me how good you’re gonna be for me after this.”

“I’m– I’m gonna be so good!” He promises through panted breaths. “Good for you– good f–”

You don’t let him finish before you swat his reddening flesh several more times in quick succession, watching with pure satisfaction as that mouth that never stops running opens to moan so loudly you’re almost sure the floor below must have heard it.

“N-Nine… No– no, fuck!”

Poor thing had to make a guess.

You tsk at him in false disapproval. “Good boys don’t lose count,” you say, even though he was definitely right. “Start again.”

And he did, too. By the time you make it back to the count of nine, his legs are quivering and his precum has soaked through the leg of your pants.

“Please, please, please!” He mewls desperately. “Let me– oh fuck, please let me come! Please, just– fuck I need it! I’ll be good!” He’s rocking against you without permission of any type as he spouts off promise after promise to behave himself for you. “Good– good b-boy… I’m your g’boy, I p-prom– ohfuckohfuckohfuck!”

And just like that, he’s blowing a thick, creamy load against you, legs spasming and glowing eyes rolling back in his head as you hold him through what must be an absolutely earth shattering orgasm if the full body trembling was anything to go by. Your name falls from his lips in a repeated prayer until all he can do is simply mouth it silently.

Your lips are to his ear the whole time, whispering affections and praise, adoration and love in droves.

“You are my good boy,” you say, accentuating your words with soft caresses to his sack. “My very, very good boy that I love so much.”

“M’your g’boy…” he murmurs weakly, eyes shut as he sinks into the glow. For a second, you think he might actually be calm for the rest of the evening.

Who are you kidding? He’s going to act up all night after this. You wager you've got about fifteen minutes of aftercare and snuggles before that switch flips and you're fucked on every horizontal and vertical surface he can possibly think of.

And you?

You’re gonna love every fucking second of it.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #homelander smut #the boys #antony starr

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beybaldes · 1 year

Text

that which you cannot see

Simon Aumar x gn!reader

word count : 2.5k

summary : simon’s own insecurity blinds him to the feelings you reciprocate.

a/n : i know this isn't my usual djats content, and i should be working through requests lol, but i saw dnd;hat thursday and am now obsessed. expect more simon once ive worked through my djats stuff!!!

“I still can’t believe that he walked up and over the rock.” You hummed, thinking back on Xenk’s leave earlier in the day, laughter bubbling past your lips at the mental imagery of the action.

The five of you were gathered around the fire Holga had started on the beach, everyone having calmed down from Edgin’s earlier series of confessions and settling back into the playful group dynamic you’d so far formed on your adventure.

Your head was one more yawn away from settling onto Simon’s shoulder, your side already pressed against his, but the general chatter of the group was keeping you awake for now. Simon was completely flustered by your close proximity, your knee bumping against his every time you laughed at something Holga said, though he’d already prepared a list of reasons he could give as to why his face was flushed; namely that the hot flames were doing him no good.

Since Edgin had picked the two of you to join his adventure, there had been an unspoken thing between the two of you; you were always lingering a little too close to each other and were the first the other went to after a close call. As far as you, and the other three members of your group, were aware, you were courting. But to Simon, you weren’t there yet - him too scared to even mention the word in your presence less you reject him the same was Doric had.

That, combined with Simon’s general obliviousness, meant he didn’t notice any of the advances you’d made towards him, or the greater interest you showed him compared to your other companions. The same interest that had you now forgoing the conversation and leaning your head sleepily against his shoulder.

Silence came over Simon at the contact, his entire being stilling as you trusted him enough to rest on. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice until Edgin aimed a question at the two of you and he received no response. All of them now turned to face you both, surprised to find you fast asleep on Simon’s shoulder with him staring down at you in surprise.

“You owe me a sack of potatoes.” Holga chuckled, flicking at Edgin’s arm when he ignored her demand for her half of their bet.

“I don’t think i do, not yet at least.” He whispered back, taking in the look on Simon’s face. “Poor kid doesn’t know what to do with himself.”

“Is this improper?” Simon asked, eyes unmoving from your finger which was curled into his side, your head snuggling deeper into the crook of his neck. “We’re not even courting.”

“Dammit.” Holga kicked her foot into the sand, knowing she’d have to wait another day without her precious prize of potatoes given the two of you weren’t formally courting yet. “Why aren’t you courting yet?”

“They do not think of me that way.” Simon sighed, eyes moving from you figure to look at his hands that had now started to nervously play with the hem of his cloak. “I’ve been told I’m quite the depressing person to be around.”

“They clearly like you, that included.” Edgin scolded, nudging his foot against Simon’s to grab his attention. “I think they’ve been pretty clear in their feelings for you, from the start of our journey.”

“No, no, I doubt it.” Simon had always been the worst believer in himself, and even though he so badly wanted what his friends were saying to be true, he wouldn’t believe it unless you yourself told him - and even then, he’d still find it hard to be true. “There are plenty of better men out there.”

“That doesn’t matter if all they want is you.” Edgin was sometimes wise, or maybe just a romantic at heart, but it would take a whole lot more then some sweet words to get the idea of courtship through Simon’s thick skull. “Besides, we’ve all seen how different things are between the two of you.”

Simon’s head shot up, to the amusement of his friends, confusion written across his feature. “What- what do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, you always ride together or walk together, even when we were in the under-dark, the first thing the two of you did when you thought we’d escaped that chubby, little dragon was reach for each other.”

“What he said.” Holga continued, biting into the potato she’d been carrying around with her, knowing she’d come to crave one eventually while she waited for her to win her and Edgin’s bet. “And you always look to them when your trying to cast a spell; when it goes right you look for them, when it goes wrong you look for them, and every time they’re already looking at you.”

“No. I don’t think so.” Had Simon really been so blind? Surely he wouldn’t noticed if his affections for you were returned; if he had he would’ve formally asked to court you already, so he supposed his friends were just reading into things. “I would’ve noticed. They would’ve said something.”

“You look at them like they hung the stars in the sky.” Doric whispered, heads snapping in her direction as she spoke up on the nature of her ex-courtship and his new love. “You care deeply, genuinely for them.”

“I care for all of you.” Simon asserted, offended by the suggestion he was treating you differently all because they thought - and correctly so - that he wanted to court you. “I treat y/n no different.”

Holga practically spat out her potato at the suggestion, throwing her head back with a cackle. “Now that is not true, and you and I both know it.”

“Leave the poor boy alone.” Edgin’s reprimanded, standing from his seat around the fire. “I suggest we get some rest, we have quite the journey to make come morning.”

Everyone else moved away slightly from the fire, giving each other space to sleep whilst not drifting too far from the warmth of the burning glow. Simon stayed in his place though, unsure of how to wake you, lest he wake you up only for you to be unable to sleep again. He settled on gently cradling your head in one hand, settling to scoop you from the log and lay you carefully in the sand. As he lifted you from your seat, into his arm, he stilled for a moment, admiring how good your features looked so close to his, everything about you accentuated by the glow of the dying fire. However, he must have stayed in his place for a moment too long, you stirring in your sleep and his almost dropping you in surprise.

“Simon?” You groaned sleepily, your voice thick and croaky as you woke. “What’s going on?”

“Oh! Hey! So…” Simon quickly got lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out how to explain how you’d ended up in this position. “Basically-“

“Can we just go to sleep?” You asked, tucking your head back into the crook of his neck, though this time somewhat consciously. That alone had heat rising to his cheeks once more. He had never been asleep since your abrupt arrival on the beach, but now you were pleading that the both of you slept - that had to mean something.

Or maybe you were just worried that he wouldn’t get enough rest for your journey tomorrow. Yeah, that was more likely.

“Of course we can, I’m sorry for waking you.” Simon rushed to put you comfortably on the ground, taking off his own cloak and covering you in it as though it were a blanket. He took his own position next to you, though not close enough that he’d be invading your personal space, he was close enough that he could be by your side in an instant if needed.

He didn’t realise just how cold it’d be on the seafront in the dark of night, but immediately brushed the though from his mind, knowing he’d rather have you warm then be warm himself.

“Get under here.” You grumbled from beneath his cloak, opening up a gap big enough for him to sliver himself into, right up against you. “You’ll be cold.”

“I’d rather be cold then improper.” He scolded, pushing gently on your hand to close the space you’d offered up to him, keeping the warmth in with you before the night air could risk it away.

“It’s not improper if we’re courting; and we practically are.”

Simon chocked on the very air he was breathing, turning to look at you in complete and utter shock. It was one thing to here it from his friends, but to hear it from you yourself? If he didn’t know you as well as he did, he’d be quick to assume you were messing with him, in fear that he’d not be good enough to court with you.

“What?” He eventually managed to choke out, his eyes unmoving from your face that peaked out from beneath the collar of his cloak.

“Get under here, Simon. I won’t ask again.” The sorcerer still hesitated at your command, mind whirring at the fact you just said the two of you were ‘practically courting.’ He couldn’t think straight, let alone move to get under the warm cloak with you. “Simon?”

Though he could hear you, he couldn’t hear you - your calls of his name in worry going in one pointed ear and out the other without giving him the chance to process it.

“Simon!” You called once more, gaining his attention as, this time, your warm hands cupped his face, his cloak slipping down your form and puddling up in the sand.

Simon was quick to pull the cloak back over your shoulders, chastising you for letting it slip lest you catch a cold from the night air. His hands held it in place over your shoulders, worried now that you’d matched his sitting position it’d fall again the second he let go.

With his hands on your shoulders and yours cupping his face, the two of you had been brought dangerously close. So close, in fact, that he could feel the warm dust of your breath across his cheeks.

“I have a list.” He whispered into the space between you, eyes wide and face flushed as he spoke. “I wrote a list of why I would be a good courter. It’s in my pocket, but from the top of my head I can think of most of it, I think.”

World were tumbling from Simon’s lips as he did his best to seize the opportunity of a lifetime that sat in front of him. It’s not often the person he was interested in was interested in courting him back - let alone suggesting that the two of you were already courting.

“I can try and cast spells to protect you, I will always walk by your side or ahead of you to protect you from traps, I will give you my cloak when you get cold or to protect you from the rain. I can-“

You used the hands that were cupping his face to connect his lips to yours. You did your best to put all your feelings into the kiss, not getting offended by the lack of reciprocation on his behalf, knowing that he was just shocked. And within a minute, he was kissing you back, though hesitantly and with a great sense of unease to his actions, like he’d never done it before.

Now that you dwelled on it, there was a chance he never had done it before.

“I don’t care about the list.” You whispered against his lips, pressing chaste kisses to them between words. “I want you just as you are.”

Breathless, Simon stumbled through an attempt to question your words, knowing he himself would have his issues with him - so why wouldn’t you? “But what about-?”

You cut him off once more, pulling him in for yet another firm, passionate kiss; your head resting against his when you finally pulled away. He seemed just as stunned by that second kiss as he had been the first.

“Don’t care.” You whispered, pressing another chaste kiss, though this time, to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, and then the dimple that had appeared there. “Just want you.”

Now that was something Simon hadn’t heard before.

He no longer had the fire to use as an excuse for the warmth in his cheeks, it long dead and burnt out now, but he deemed he no longer needed excuses for the way you made him feel - not when you felt the same and declared it with such certainty.

“Oh. Cool.” Simon immediately grimaced at his words, wondering how on earth he’d picked that to say out of everything he could’ve said. That didn’t matter now though, he was sure he would have plenty of time going forward to tell you all this things he wanted to say, all the things he felt.

“You going to get under the cloak now or what?” You asked, a teasing lilt to your words that cracked a smile onto Simon’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I will, my love.” The words rolled so naturally from his tongue, as though he’d been born to say them, and to say them to you.

Once again, you lay down on the beach, opening up Simon’s own cloak to him and this time he hesitantly crawled inside the warm fabric. At first, his just lay with his side pressed tightly to yours, both of you half under the protection of the cloak. You quickly put an end to that, rolling onto your side and grabbing Simon’s arm, placing it gently over you and pulling him onto his side in doing so. Now the cloak rested comfortably over the both of you, the cold of the night no longer reaching you between the warmth of the fabric and the warmth of Simon’s hold.

Simon took a lot longer to drift off to sleep then you did, his mind moving at a million miles a second as he took everything that had happened today in. Not only had he ventured into the under-dark and been absolutely flung about by the helm of disjunction and his ancestor, but he’d somehow managed to court who he was sure was the love of his life.

A soft smile curled onto Simon’s lips as he let his head fall against the back of yours, curling into you and wrapping his arm tighter around you to keep you close to him. For the first time in a long time, the both of you slept soundly through the night, not stirring for anything or anyone: even when the following morning, Holga shrieked in glee at the sight of the two of you, crying out to Edgin-

“you owe me a sack of potatoes!”

#simon aumar x reader #simon aumar imagine #simon aumar one shot #dungeons & dragons honor amongst thieves x reader #dungeons & dragons honor amongst thieves imagine #dungeons & dragons honor amongst thieves oneshot #DND HAT x reader

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444rockstargf · 1 month

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Can you make a kappa or euro fic where they absolutely hate each other and it’s like brothers best friend and it’s just hate sex PLEASE

"you're my cult leader." | kappa

ultraviolence. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @livingdead-materialgirl @vanlisbon @oliviah-25 @livingdead-reilly @yungbloodsuxca @imoonkiss @lankysimp @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt@mommymilkers0526

female!reader x kappa

word count: 1.2k

contents: kappa & reader are exes, unprotected p in v, a little degardation, a little praise, manipulation, angst if you squint

typical gang activity became complicated when your cult leader just so happened to be your ex-boyfriend. you used to be his eye candy, his dumb little baby, and his most prized possession. but he had decided that it’d be best for him to keep his eyes on what really mattered, and it wasn’t you.

that’s where the ups and downs of being in his cult came in. you couldn’t escape his occasional glances, the sound of his hypnotic voice that had whispered such dirty things to you, and the way he acted like a complete manwhore, dressing in rags that specifically gave you a view of the toned biceps that used to wrap around your neck.

but you could fuck around with whoever you wanted a could be one hundred percent certain that it would circle back to him, making him green with envy even though he could never admit that.

he acted nonchalant and bitter, which hurt you even more considering the way he used to open up to you about every little thing. you hated him, but you hated the thought of being the one to crawl back even more. so you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gotten in the position you were in now, face shoved into a drool-stained pillow with kappa’s gigantic rod drilling into your cock deprived hole.

you could tell he was livid by the way he thrust into you, bruising your gooey walls as he landed a harsh slap onto your ass.

“good to know i can make turn my baby back into a dumb little bitch with my cock.” he growled as he shoved his fingers down your throat, making you gag around him. his voice dripped with suppressed bitterness and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for riling him up to this point.

you’d been at a normal heist, dressed like a slut from a bad porn. that would’ve been more than enough to catch his eye, but you decided to take an extra step and walk into the room with epsilon’s hand on your ass as an act of rebellion. as predicted, your plan had worked. after weeks of not interacting with you, he grabbed you by your wrist and dragged you into an empty bedroom, slamming the door shut and pinning you to it by the neck.

he could’ve killed you right there, but he picked you up bridal-style and tossed you onto the bed, kissing you roughly as he tore off the pieces of your minimal clothing one by one, whipping out his rock-hard pistol and wasting no time as he shoved it into you.

he had been tossing you around like a worthless sack, using your body as a way to release months of tension. you were sitting on his lap with his cock deep in your stomach as bubbles of your spit cascaded down his fingers, all the way down to where his other hand gripped your breast until it went pale.

“how many other people have you fucked, huh?” he flipped you around, shoving you into the mattress as you sobbed and whimpered out inaudible words as a response. he cock throbbed inside of you. yes, he was angry, but the sight of you in such a submissive and vulnerable state made his heart flutter.

“i’ve been goin’ fucking crazy, y’know? seeing you get hotter every day while i’ve been falling apart without you.” he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, spitting on them and moving his hand under you to rub sloppy circles onto your pulsating clit.

you were a mess underneath him, nails clawing at the mattress and your back arching as his cock hit that sweet spot inside of you. his hips slapped against the sore skin of your ass as his groans echoed through the room. “you’ll never find anyone more perfect for you than me, you hear? no one will ever be able to make you feel the way i do, to touch you the way i do, to make your body feel the way i make it…”

you screamed into the pillow as his words rang through your mind. you hated that he was right. that he had you completely at his mercy like a doll, but he had also revealed that you had been on his mind ever since.

his manipulation tactics always had you wrapped around his finger, and you thought that you’d finally broken free. how foolish you had been. he pulled himself out of you, making your hole feel the loss of his cock. he flipped you around again, but with a little more care. he met your large, teary eyes with a look that could be mistaken for remorse or pity with just a sprinkle of hatred on top.

he grabbed your jaw roughly, bringing your face less than an inch away from his as he spoke darkly to you. “spit it out, bitch. you already find someone better than me? have you found someone else that’ll put up with a goddamn whore like you?” the tip of his cock teased the entrance of your hole, making you shudder.

you spoke, your voice thick with tears. “y-yeah, maybe i have. maybe i’ve found someone that’ll treat me better than you ever have!” his eyes clouded with hostility and he shoved you back onto the bed, landing himself on top of you and shoving his fist into your tight pussy, making you scream out.

he fucked you vigorously with his fist, his hot breath hitting your ear. “listen to me and listen good, whore. you can hate me as much as you want for whatever fucking reason, but no one will ever love you as much as i do.” his words sunk in as you felt a familiar sensation bubbling through your core, legs shaking as you felt yourself reaching your climax.

his rhythm was torturous. you wanted to beg him to stop but secretly hoped that he never would. with a few more pumps, you found yourself crying out, moaning slurred words as you came all over his arm. tears ran down your face as you tossed your head back, nails digging into the toned flesh of his back, surely drawing blood.

all your senses disabled temporarily as you felt your body emptying itself out onto him, your entire figure trembling from the stimulation. he pulled his fist out of you, giving your puffy clit a slap as he grabbed your jaw once again, this time to kiss you.

it was a needy, desperate one. one that told you how much he really missed you more than his words ever could. his thumbs gently wiped the tears off your cheeks as cum poured down your thighs.

he was never the type to perform any aftercare, but he left the room and gave you some time to rest, collect your thoughts as he had said. you lay there in a puddle of your own fluids, mind racing with thoughts of what you had just done.

nothing had changed and you knew that the resentment between you two was there to stay. but he was right about one thing: no matter what had happened between you, he still loved you more than anything.

author's note: sorry for losing sight of the plot yall

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #rory culkin kappa #kappa black mirror #kappa x reader #kappa smut #ultraviolence era #ultraviolence vibes #ultraviolence album #ultraviolence lana del rey #ultraviolence #lana del rey

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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I'm so glad you are having fun!

Could we hear something about the bestfriend curtis & ari? <3

thank you bestie and yes ofc !! prepare yourselves, this is basically a whole fic:

ok so i was thinking something like: at first, you were just Nat's best friend, then you got adopted by the whole group, and perhaps developed a little crush on Ari and Curtis (the certified plugs and rugby boys, built like tanks). you've seen them around since you have mutual friends, but you've never spoken more than a sentence or two to them (let's be honest, they're very intimidating). It's Nat's birthday so everyone goes clubbing and what do you know... you're running late so Nat sends Ari and Curtis to pick you up 😳 cue the awkward car ride.

the night ends at Nat's house and oh no, all the beds are taken? That's okay, Ari and Curtis offer to make some room on the tiny futon in the living room. you say, "I don't want you to sleep on the floor," so it's good that they manage to squeeze with you in between. now you're all cozy and snug between two beefy fellas, still drunk and high and trying but failing to pay attention to the movie on the television. you keep rocking your hips and shifting around, unable to forget how they passed you around in the club, kissing you senselessly and grinding against you.

Curtis' hand slips to your thigh, "you just can't sit still, huh?"

You shake your head, whining pathetically into his shoulder. "S-Sorry... I get horny when I'm high." Your body has a mind of its own and rocks into his hand, keeping it snugly against your clothed folds. "Please don't make me stop."

Rough fingers pinch your chin and turn you the other way, Ari's shaded eyes meet yours. "Where do you want my hand, baby?" You don't hesitate to bring his hand to your throat and he smiles, "atta girl. Quit being mean and touch her, Curtis."

so they play with you, Curtis rubs over your panties, telling you to make a big mess for them while Ari experiments with his grip on your neck, and spits into your wide-open drooly mouth. but poor little you, you're too tired !! too sleepy from partying for so long and it catches up to you. they chuckle as you go slack, quiet breaths puffing from your swollen lips. they get you all tucked in and not to be a total whore but... they kiss you goodnight.

You wake up trapped between them, your leg hooked over Curtis' thighs and Ari snug behind you. one thing leads to another and Ari asks if you want to continue, but you have different things in mind: "Can I taste you instead?"

so you kneel between his legs, still a lil drunk/high and mouth against his bulge, "I've never done this before..." you confess, pouting up at him, "can you teach me?"

and he does: "You can lick the tip, just get used to the taste." "T-That's good, yeah, you're doing great, baby." "Spit on it, I like it messy." He groans softly, his hips jerking when your saliva lands on the head before you smear it with your tongue. he wasn't expecting you to ask about his sack, "can I kiss you there too?"

Your nose rubs against his base, "you're s-so big. I love it." He doesn't hold back his moans as you suckle his balls, slobbering all over him, "Know you do—bet you're soaked, huh? Reach a hand down there and tell me how wet you are."

after he cums on your face and you leave to go clean up ("should I brush my teeth?" "Just rinse with water."), he lies back in contentment. "You can stop pretending now. She's gone."

Curtis' eyes shoot open and he grumpily flips around, "you could've tried to be quiet."

"And make her think I wasn't enjoying myself? No thanks."

i also had a few thots about dry-humping, some "better be quiet" fooling around in a washroom, and ofc naughty sexting 🌚

#thought of this while going home from the club #in the presence of family and friends #the sluttyness never rests #best bros ari and curtis #sonny drabbles #ari levinson #curtis everett #ari levinson drabble #curtis everett drabble #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson x reader #curtis everett smut #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader x curtis everett #curtis everett x reader x ari levinson

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railmerosalie · 4 months

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Okay let's get something straight, i wrote this during a 10 hour car ride. Not proof read we die like tributes. @mystargirl-interlude i hope this isn't too shit my dear.

Peeta is mostly a soft dom y'all, I will die on this hill. Now we all know he's a smooth talker and my god does that extend to the bedroom. "Shhh pretty girl, keep your eyes on me" , "just like that angel, you feel so good". This man will praise anything you do, sometimes he will just babble out words like 's-so good' even if he's doing all the work. Would 1000% stroke your cheek with his thumb while moaning in your ear. Has a thing for hair pulling, either yours or his own, he doesn't care. Speaking of hair, he would softly brush yours out and braid it during aftercare, you don't ask him too, he just wants too :)

Holds your hands while ramming into you while in missionary. Wants you to mark him, to have good memories associated with his scars. While this man is a soft dom he will put you in your place, however, he hates the idea of hurting you/causing you pain. He would hold your arms around your back in a soft grip while rocking into you slowly, "hmmmm, what happened to my good girl?". You could try and struggle against him, to make him move faster, but good luck, he'll maneuver you as easily as a sack of flour.

Eye contact !!! Loves seeing your pupils dilate when he hits that certain spot. He also finds it reassuring, it keeps him grounded. Now dont get me wrong, he lovvves getting his dick sucked, but there's something about eating you out that really gets him going. I think it's despite being a baker, he's never tasted something as sweet and addicting as you. He's a pussy pleaser idk what else to say 🤷🏻‍♀️.

He loves drawing you naked. You guys would be relaxing in a field, you reading while he scribbles away. At first you think he's drawing the wild flowers you're sitting in, peaking over to see that he's drawn your torso, tits and neck with one hand wrapped around your waist and the other at the base of your throat. Despite the dirty image he somehow makes you look angelic. If he gets up before you he'll leave them on the kitchen table along with a fresh pastry from that morning's batch, and a note telling you how beautiful you are <3

He LOVES manhandling you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder or carrying you bridal style while hugging you to his chest. Will hold up your entire bodyweight while jack hammering into you. Speaking of manhandling, he would hold your writhing body against his as he fingers you.

His chest is super sensitive, something as simple as softly dragging your nails across his skin would make him moan. If you licked his nipples he would start to whimper, now pair that with covering him in hickeys and a handjob, he would cum soo fast. If you were to smack his ass in a causal show of dominance he would blush. Oh and he likes holding your tits, no matter how big or small they are (they're just soo warm) either his hands or face always seem to find them.

His prosthetic leg gives him more trouble than he lets on. So for the love of Christ make the poor boy comfortable and take it off while riding him. It means he can focus just on you without the pinching on his thigh.

Okay i need sleep

#thg #the hunger games #peeta mellark #catching fire #mockingjay #thg mockingjay #peeta my beloved #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark smut

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yve-barr · 1 month

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riddick x guardian angel reader

part one

NOT MY GIF! NOT MY CHARACTER!

Forgive me if it's not all correctly in order I haven't watched it in a while.

Part two in my drafts but only released if specially requested cause honestly I'm to mentally tired to finish it with no motivation

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Blood, canon violence, animal cruelty, self harm to survive,

please enjoy!

The first time he saw her was the discovery of vaakos betrayal.

He lay at the bottom of that cliff his leg snapped in two and his numerous wounds bleeding. The pain almost as blinding as her glowing light.

"am I dead?" He scoffed.

She merely smiled and shook her head and reached out her hand to pull him out of the rubble.

"it is not yet your time."

"so you know when it will be?" He had asked the pain vanishing as she lead him through the desolate land.

"I do," she smiled pulling a gourd from thin air and filling it with water pouring down from the cliff.

"where am I?" He said taking the gourd when she offered it.

"not furya, so I suggest you get up," she replied playfully and then she was gone.

He glanced around but when he tried to take a step he fell, instead of hitting the ground however he found himself buried back underneath the rocks.

the pain in his body burned almost as much as the sun against his eyes when he finally dug himself out.

Feebly he crawled over to what looked to be water but on closer expectation it was a sulfur pit.

But that was only the beginning, his leg needed setting otherwise it wouldn't heal properly.

Finding a descent crack in the rock he placed his foot inside it.

Gritting his teeth he snapped his bone back into place.

He cried out, his leg felt as though a thousand suns had replaced the flesh. And the nerves with barbed wire.

In the distance he heard the yelps of some sort of big dog, and he knew he screwed up.

The sounds grew louder as he crawled towards the sulfur pit.

He hit the surface with a splash quickly taking a deep breath before submerging fully.

Opening his shrieking eyes he saw the dog like creatures staring down at him, his lungs burned and small eel like creatures nipped at his open wounds.

slowly his eyes were forced shut by the acidic sulfur pool.

For some unknown reason once his eyes had closed instead of the burning and swishing he felt a cool breeze and his lungs no longer felt like taught elastic.

"get up," your sweet voice called. "Get up!"

Slowly your voice got more distant and his cloths began to dampen, his lungs begining to burn.

"it is not your time."

Splashing above the surface of the water he gasped for air.

The creatures had vanished, and so had you.

He did not see you again for a short time.

Intact the next time he did see you he had just pressed the point of the sharp bard against his skin when you materialised Infront of him.

"what not whisking me off to wonderland this time?" You shook your head but did not smile.

"you listened to me, about the water?"

"didn't have many options," he said adjusting his hold on the sack of venom.

"but you do now, so maybe put that down," you said.

"can't do that lady," he tilted his head smirking a little.

"of course you can't," you rolled you eyes and picked up a bowl from thin air.

Riddick was about to ask how you did that, but the barb was already in his arm the venom sleeping into his blood stream.

Quickly you were on your knees Infront of him, your own eyes staring into his obscured ones.

"deep breaths," was all you managed to say before his whole body stiffened and started convulsing horribly.

He collapsed over head in your lap (or more precisely over the bowl) his whole body stiffened and shaking.

You ran your soft hands up and down the back of his neck, slowly removing his goggles.

He gagged into the bowl and you sighed running your right hand along his upper arm, the other rested on the back of his neck.

You expected it to be over soon.

Soon you'd summon the stair way and lead him down to hell.

"It's your time," you muttered sadly, making to shift his quaking body away.

But you gasped when he grabbed you left wrist.

His voice barely loud enough to hear, he croaked out, "not today."

You just sat there in shock as he continued to shake and vomit.

As you had previously suspected he soon fell limp and you cast the bowl aside resting his head in your lap his face turned to the side.

hurriedly you checked the pulse line on his wrist that only you could see.

and it beat, in steady slowed beats.

Never in your millenniums of life had you seen anything like this, he should have flat lined a whole minute ago.

You had previously scoffed at other angels who had claimed for this to happen to them.

you knew what this meant.

Scared you removed his head from your lap and stood pacing back and forth in the cave.

A small creature whimpered in a cage made of bones.

Walking over to it you crouched down infront of it.

"what should I do little one?" You asked it, not really expecting an answer, but to your suprise it tilted its head and looked over your shoulder at the unconscious man. "You think I should do it?"

The little dingo creature yelped in agreement.

"but he's a serial killer? He'll go to hell if I do this it'll tie my fate to his, I have a place in heaven, I have a duty to do, other souls to watch over and inevitably lead to the afterlife," the little creature pushed it's muzzle trough the bones and sniffled.

Carefully you reached your hand through the gap and stroked it.

Smiling you sat there for a while, but then a sound from behind you made you stop.

the man on the floor, grumbled slightly stirring.

And you were forced to make a split second decision.

as he slowly came to you walked over to him and replaced his goggles and left.

Back into the crystal white beyond, until he would need you again.

For the next few days riddick continued to grow his immunity to the venom, but not once did he see you.

You saw him though.

Everytime.

You would appear to find him shaking on the floor and you would pull him against you and run soft hands down his neck, his arms, his back.

You'd sit until he was safe then you would attempt to leave but every time he'd shift or his hold on your arm would slacken and your stay.

But always there was the knowing in the back of your mind about what this meant, and always you knew what this man was and where he was going.

Everytime was the same until it wasn't.

You materialised onto the planet looking for his shaking form but instead you saw him sitting on a rock his head on his fist, thinking.

"your my angel aren't you," it wasn't a question.

"I am," you answered still.

"when an I going to die then," he said looking to you. "And I know about the lying thing before you try."

"the lying thing? You mean that if I lie to you I'll be indebted to you?"

He nodded.

"good for you, but I don't know when you'll die," you smiled meekly.

He frowned.

"I thought I did but, your time has been and gone, yet your still here."

Silence fell upon the room.

"and if you know what that means I'll be quite shocked," you said.

Cautiously he shook his head and you nodded yours once before turning to leave.

"good luck."

And you were gone

#richard b riddick #riddick #riddick chronicles #riddick x reader #pitch black

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apritellointeractive · 8 days

Text

Sworn to Devotion: Chapter 1 - Part 5

>> April decides to bite the arm of the kidnapper.

(Art by @lovelyladylavie)

While her kidnapper’s gaze is steadfast in keeping eye contact with April’s guard, his hand wielding the knife lacks the same unwavering commitment. The white-knuckled fist clenching the dagger shakes mid-air, and the jitters are enough for the blade’s tip to leave her neck.

It’s a split-second decision. So fast in fact that April’s tasting blood in her mouth before she realizes she’s sunk her teeth into the flesh of her captor.

However, this isn't the first person she's bitten, and he won't be the last.

The man screeches as he tries to pull his hand out of her mouth. The muscles in his hand twitch and seize as April’s teeth sink deeper. The blade clatters to the floor, forgotten as the man tries to free himself.

“What are you? An animal?!” The kidnapper finally rips his hand from her mouth and shoves her away from him.

April throws her arms out in front of her, wincing as her arms collide with the rough surface of the cavern’s floor. Twinges of pain shoot up her arms, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the sharp gravel cut through the thin fabric of her sleeves.

“You’re gonna pay for tha-ack!”

April whips her head around to see the yokai guard thrusting the previously abandoned dagger into the man’s chest. The guard twists it, a sickening squelching noise originating from the open wound being shredded. The man wetly gasps, desperately trying to get air into his lungs—though it will certainly not save him.

The yokai guard pushes the kidnapper to the floor, leaving him to take his last gasps of life. He then looks at the dagger and scowls.

“Condescending hum, the weapon of thieves and criminals.” He holds the blade’s hilt between his thumb and index finger—like it’s covered in filth—before tossing the bloody blade aside, far away from April and her kidnappers.

April watches her guard as he looks over the bodies once more—presumably to make sure they’re dead—before his eyes fall on her. He jolts, his eyebrows—comically drawn onto his purple mask— shooting upward as if he’s surprised that she’s looking at him.

He rushes to her side, offering his weird three-fingered hands to her. “Ahem! Princess, ah… April. Are you alright?”

April narrows her eyes. Did he momentarily forget her name? And his question lacked any warmth and concern. April isn’t going to get anything but the bare minimum from him, is she?

But she doesn’t have time to wallow in self-pity.

She takes his hands, letting him pull her to her feet before wiping the blood from her mouth with her sleeve. “Y-yeah. I’m… I’m fine. The blade didn’t hurt me or anything like that.” Her gaze drops to her arms and she frowns at the blood blotching the shredded fabric. “Scraped my arms up a bit though.”

“Ah! Let me assist you, I have a small aid kit in my possession.”

He guides her over to one of the large rocks in the cave and sits her down. The torn sleeves of her dress are pushed past her shoulder, revealing the collection of small abrasions scattered across her forearms. April hisses as the open air touches the wounds, though she tries to swallow down her discomfort.

The yokai guard does not comment, only pulling a small sack out from underneath his armor and rummaging through the contents. He pulls out an amber bottle and gauze, popping the cork off and pouring the clear fluid onto the fabric strip.

He then places the bottle on the floor and takes one of April’s arms in his hands. “This will sting.”

That’s about all the warning April gets before the fluid-soaked gauze is wiped across her arms. She bites her tongue, trying not to cry in pain as the guard makes quick work of disinfecting her arms.

He’s certainly not being very gentle, but considering how he was glaring at her earlier this week, April’s just happy he’s taking the time to clean her wounds. He’s at least doing the bare minimum.

Once the guard is satisfied, he tosses the used gauze on the floor and delves back into his bag. April watches as he takes a large roll of gauze and wraps up her arms, covering all of her scraps and cuts completely.

He finishes securing the bindings before nodding his head. “There. Are you injured anywhere else?”

April runs her hands along the gauze, pleased with his work. “No. I think that’s good. Though... where are we?”

>> April looks around the cave.

OPTION 1: The walls of the cave are made of grey-and-white speckled granite, smoothed over time. However, a thick layer of gravel coats the floor, and the cave continues to tunnel deeper into the earth, the path downward shrouded in darkness. Distant sounds of dropping water echo through the cave.

OPTION 2: The walls of the cave are plain gray with white quartz crystals. Some are small and barely the size of a thumbnail, while others reach right up to her hip. It’s almost magical the way the crystals catch the light filtering in from the outside. Nestled behind one of the crystal clusters is a chest, the green paint peeling away from the weathered wood.

OPTION 3: The walls of the cave are dark grey, with unlit torches lining the stone surfaces. There are a few wooden boxes littered along the sides, all bearing a red footmark. The cave continues to tunnel deeper into the earth, the path downward shrouded in darkness. The air coming up from the deep tastes almost stale.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #interactive apritello story #apritello interactive story #rottmnt apritello #rise apritello #apritello #rottmnt april #rottmnt april o'neil #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #Sworn to Devotion #my poll #poll #interactive story poll #a bit different this time!#my dear readers #what does the cave look like?

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niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian · 1 year

Note

Psst hey, Wsatw Headcanon time >:) One that Tails and Sonic were separated for several years for reasons they couldn't help. They finally find each other and have a very heartfelt reunion.

*sharp inhale*

I'm not even gonna be all loud about it this time, but I will give you kudos for putting that image in my brain there Non.

The two of them end up being away from each other longer than anticipated, they both decided to go on separate adventures to where they ended up on different continents and had a limited amount of time to call one another without something getting in the way and distracting them.

Once they do reunite, they're still the same yet so different at the same time.

.....

Ok, screw it. You gave me an idea and I went with it fully.

Sonic, of course, was the first one to see his little brother once they make plans to meet up and arrived at the planned rendezvous, the kid who had always literally looked up to him, was almost at the same height as him now, he could tell immediately even from the small amount of distance that separated the two currently.

A part of him wanted to run over and tackle him into a year's long worth of hugging and never let him go, the other part of him however took over and just watched to see how much the kid had changed from when he last saw him.

His fur had become a bit darker in color and was a bit more ruffled up around his tails and head, which proved that he still didn’t keep up with brushing his fur each day like he was supposed to. The back of his ears seemed to be gaining dark, brown patches and black tips right at the top of his ears.

He had all kinds of new attire on than what he usually carried on him, a toolbelt with many pouches carrying who knows what, a blue, oil-spotted scarf around his neck, and a pair of goggles sitting upon his head.

He even had a giant burlap sack slung over his shoulder that he impressively carried with one hand, Sonic could only guess that whatever was in there was going to be quite the dinner conversation to have later on.

One thing that didn't seem to change was whenever the fox was in a deep enough thought, he tended to sit completely still and stare off into space with a disinterested look on his face. Sonic audibly dubbed this as his "Mr. Rock face", much to Tails' disapproval and his amusement. That face was currently intact and internally betted that it's been more than 10 minutes since he even blinked.

"Tails!"

He saw Tails blink (ha, called it) out of his internal state and frown in confusion, his head turning in the other direction away from where Sonic was.

He shook his head and cupped a hand over his mouth. "Tails!"

The fox’s ears flick toward his direction and a sharp head turn follows afterward, a look of confusion quickly transforms into recognition and excitement. His tails started wagging back and forth and a wide smile masked his muzzle. Immediately, he dropped the huge bag off his shoulder and lifted himself into the air, flying straight towards him.

Sonic smiled just as heartily as a laugh spilled out from his chest, raising both his arms. "Hey!-"

His call was cut off as Tails flew directly into him, causing Sonic to lose his balance and bringing both of them down onto the grass. Sonic let out a pained grunt as his back hit the ground harder than he anticipated, the kid had definitely gotten stronger that's for sure.

"Ow. I was not ready for that one." He groaned, pulling his body up and rubbing a hand along Tails' back while the other gave a small scratch behind his ear.

"Are you trying to get back at me for missing your calls so much?" He joked lightly, feeling Tails curl up against him more. Sonic froze slightly, adjusted himself to a crisscross, and lifted him onto his lap, which in turn was an awkward position since he could barely fit on his lap anymore due to this growth spurt but he tried regardless.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked gently, all he got was Tails' voice being muffled as he had his face still hidden against his chest.

"Hmm? What was that?"

Tails moved his head away from his chest, glancing up at him with fresh tears forming in his eyes.

"-missed you", He finally said with a tearful smile. "I really missed you."

Sonic felt his heart fill up with a familiar feeling, a feeling he hadn't been able to hold onto as much as he wanted to over the years. Was it pride? Was it fondness? Was it joy? He couldn't tell, all that he knew was that it only happened a few times in his life ever since he took Tails in.

When he first shared a hug with Tails after the kit finally started to be more comfortable around him,

When he heard Tails say, "that's my bro'ter!" to random strangers walking past them,

When he witnessed him take down his first badnik all by himself without his help,

When the kid managed to stop Eggman from blowing up Station Square, among many other things that happened over the years.

But this? He wanted to hold onto this for as long as he could.

He gave Tails a tender smile, wrapping both his arms around him with his cheek resting on the side of his head and feeling his brother's arms tighten in response. "Missed you too little man. So much."

Psst, @starrjoy. It's still Wednesday where I am so I hope this counts :)

#i wrote this in a damn hour and i am tired XD #gotta love these headcanons man #make you create all kinds of stuff like this in a instant #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wsatw headcanons #wsatw #unbreakable bond #asks answered #anonymous

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helium-queen · 11 months

Text

A little Shane fluff about comforting him while at the pool 🩷

Pool Day

Pairings: SDV Shane x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Shane sat there, leaning back against the lounge chair as he watched the people around him. He saw people of all shapes and sizes but he couldn't help himself from feeling self-conscious when he saw men with chiseled abs walking by. He looked down at himself and frowned at his beer belly.

"What's wrong, babe?" You ask when you notice his expression as you come back from changing into your swimsuit

"Oh- uh.. nothing" He lies, trying to shake off the feeling and put on a smile but you easily see through it.

"You know I know you better than that, right?" You remind him as you slip your arms around his neck, your fingertips toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Yeah I know" He says with a deep sigh "I just.. I don't look very good with my shirt off" He says averting his eyes from yours now that they've turned soft.

"Babe.." You say with a frown as you cup his face between your hands and pull his head up so his eyes meet yours "You are incredibly sexy"

Shane looks into your eyes and gives you a sad smile "You really think those meat heads are sexier than you?" You snort as you laugh "No way! Cuddling with that would be like cuddling a sack of rocks while with you it's like a sack of marshmallows" Your comparison earning a chuckle out of Shane.

"There's that charming smile I love" You beam "What I'm trying to say is, I don't care about how other men look because I only have eyes for you" You remind him with a loving smile.

"Damn, and I thought I was cheesy" Shane teases you with another chuckle.

"Shut up, you love it" You wag your finger playfully at him.

"Yes I do and I love you" He declares as he wraps you in his arms and gives you one of those snuggly bear hugs he knows you love.

"I love you too, now let's go swimming" You wiggle out of his grasp and grab his hand, tugging him along.

"Last one in the water is a rotten egg!" Shane shouts after pulling his shirt off, tossing it on the chair and rushing over to the pool.

"Hey! Wait for me!" You shout back before giggling and taking off after him.

#sdv shane #sdv fanfic #stardew valley shane #stardew valley #stardew fanfic #stardew shane

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caashmoneynae · 7 months

Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE: cut off the beginning of this chapter as well. enjoy! 🫶🏾

❦

STUDIO.

LL COOL J x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which LeShaun isn't able to make it to the studio session, so Khadijah has to fill in for her. ✨

❦

"you ready?" James asked, pressing a red button on the soundboard to speak to his lady, as he looked at Khadijah through the glass of the booth while she adjusted the headphones on her head.

"J, i'm nervous. what if i don't do it right?" Khadijah asked, nervously fiddling with the end of her hair while she looked at her man through the glass.

"trust me, you'll do fine, a'ight? don't focus too much on the song, say it how you'd say it to me, y'know what i'm sayin'? ignore the microphone, ignore the headphones... just act like we're having a... conversation." James suggested, letting out a chuckle after "conversation", as Khadijah chuckled with him and cracked a smile.

Khadijah's smile didn't last long, however, and her lips formed a pout, earning a chuckle from James while he gently shook his head at her.

"you want me to come in there with you, mama?"

"please?"

James smiled at her and he let out a soft chuckle before he pressed down on a yellow button, making the song play inside Khadijah's headphones while he got up from the chair and made his way into the booth. closing the door behind him, he walked over to Khadijah and stood behind her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"just relax, a'ight? get comfortable." James whispered in her ear, kissing her earlobe, as Khadijah's body tingled underneath his touch and she swallowed the lump in her throat before nodding her head, letting out a soft breath through her nose to get herself comfortable.

Khadijah listened to the audio and she waited on her cue to say LeShaun's verse as she gently bit down on her lip to ease her nerves while James's thumbs rubbed up and down her hips.

❝ IT'S OUR FIRST TIME TOGETHER AND I'M FEELING KINDA HORNY, CONVENTIONAL METHOD OF MAKIN' LOVE KINDA BORE ME. I WANNA KNOCK YOUR BLOCK OFF, GET MY ROCKS OFF, BLOW YOUR SOCKS OFF, MAKE SURE YOUR G-SPOT'S SOFT. ❞

"I'MA CALL YOU BIG DADDY AND SCREAM YOUR NAME, MATTER FACT, I CAN'T WAIT FOR YOUR CANDY RAIN." Khadijah rapped temptingly, making sure she got the lyrics correctly, as a small smile crept onto her and James's faces at her getting out of her shell.

"there you go, baby." James praised softly in her ear, kissing her earlobe for a second time, as he kissed down from her ear to her neck and dipped his head down into the crook of it.

❝ SO WHAT'CHU SAYIN'? I GET MY SWERVE ON, BRING IT LIVE, MAKE IT LAST FOREVER, DAMN, THE KITTY CAT'S TIGHT. ❞

"MMM, DADDY, SLOW DOWN YOUR FLOW. PUT IT ON ME LIKE A G, BABY, NICE AND SLOW," Khadijah continued before her breathing gently hitched, feeling James's lips lock on a patch of her skin, as he french-kissed her neck and Khadijah pulled herself together before finishing the lyric, "I NEED A ROUGHNECK NIGGA, MANDINGO IN THE SACK, WHO AIN'T AFRAID TO PULL MY HAIR AND SPANK ME FROM THE BACK."

as the song played inside her headphones, Khadijah began to lose concentration due to James's lips on her neck, a soft moan falling from her lips into the microphone as James's thumbs hooked onto the waistline of her biker shorts, his right hand slipping into them while his left stayed on her hip.

"focus, mama." James muttered against her neck, knocking her out of her sinful thoughts, "it's okay to moan. let 'em out."

❝ NO DOUBT. I'M THE PLAYA' THAT YOU'RE TALKIN' ABOUT. ❞

"MMM, BUT DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT YOU CAN WORK IT OUT?" Khadijah continued, a moan slipping from her lips at the beginning of the lyric, as James's middle finger applied pressure to her clitoris, causing another moan to come from her lips while the man pulled her panties to the side and trailed his finger up and down her cunt.

"the track stops after the chorus. that's all you gotta do for now, mama," James whispered in her ear, wrapping his lips around her earlobe, as Khadijah's hips lightly bucked against his, "that's when i'll give you your reward."

❝ I GUARANTEE YOU, SHORTY, IT'S REAL. BABY, STICK IT OUT. HERE COMES THE MAN OF STEEL. ❞

"DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT WELL. DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT WELL. DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT WELL." Khadijah rapped alluringly, her brows gently furrowing once James's finger slid inside her entrance, as her eyes fluttered a bit and she whimpered softly, his body pressed up against hers while she grinded her hips against his finger.

"just like that, baby. chase that nut." James whispered in her ear, feeding her praise kink, as Khadijah whimpered and her eyes shut, biting down on her lip while she gently gripped James's arm.

❝ I REPRESENT QUEENS, SHE WAS RAISED OUT IN BROOKLYN. ❞

"DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT WELL. DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT WELL. DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT AND DOIN' IT WELL." Khadijah moaned out, failing to keep her composure, as James smirked against her ear and let out a soft chuckle, thrusting his finger faster while her walls clenched around the slender digit.

her peak was coming closer and closer and she felt herself cumming faster than usual, but this was no surprise. with how skilled James was in bed, Khadijah could cum seven times in one night. it was no shocker that someone like James was very... open-minded with his sex life.

❝ I REPRESENT QUEENS, SHE WAS RAISED OUT IN BROOKLYN. ❞

"oh, my god, i'm 'bout to cum!" Khadijah moaned once the audio shut off, making James let out a low chuckle, as he added another finger inside of her dripping cavern and took the headphones off her head with his other hand, sitting them on the microphone while her body writhed against his.

"J-James!" Khadijah squealed loudly, tossing her head back onto his broad shoulder, as her hips bucked against his fingers for a final time before she released a whimper, her nectar leaking down James's digits while he laid kisses on her earlobe.

waiting until her body relaxed in his arms, James carefully removed his fingers from her erogenous vagina and slipped his wet fingers into his mouth, lapping up her honey from them while he looked down at her dazed expression and chuckled.

"Go lay on the sofa. We ain't finished just yet, shorty."

#Spotify #90s #90s icons #90s men #x black fem reader #x black reader #black girl beauty #smut #ll cool j #studio session #black stories #black culture #black community #black love #black people #oc #one shot

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phoenixyfriend · 2 years

Text

Let's Talk About Lekku

Do you ever think about twi'lek neck strain?

Do you think twis with higher-set lekku are considered prettier, but also find it a pain in the ass, like having a large chest in humans?

Do you ever think about voluntary partial lekku amputations?

(Check out this post, I like it muchly and it is why I subscribe to the lekku placement thing.)

Anyway, I saw this gif of Hera and got to thinking, with how tense she is, what the weight of her lekku might be doing to her.

Anyway, here's a bunch of thoughts:

Per @atagotiak (Tia) when I brought this up on discord:

They’ve probably evolved stronger neck muscles than humans. But then that doesn’t mean that neck strain isn’t a problem. Our own bodies are def inadequate sometimes Like the boob thing you mentioned Imagine being a Jedi or even worse, a non-sensitive athlete or something Twilek head-wrap debates. The ones with better necks and/or smalller/better positioned lekku think the restrictive ones are a pain and sometimes describe them the way we describe bras or corsets. The ones with more issues are like “no I need them” but also like taking them off at the end of the day. Also, if they are more restrictive, improperly fitted ones probably are torture Leaning into the bra analogy a lot here

Per @ioudaleks (Jade):

Headaches, probably too, esp if you’re moving a lot Or a more decorative head thingy rather than a more functional one Could be close to an overly tight hairstyle too Or a heavy or elaborate one. Speaking as a person with long hair and a fondness for updos

There's a very good reason Bib Fortuna wraps his lekku around his shoulders like a scarf.

Really 'conservative' Twi'leks wear like... a sack that hangs from the shoulders that their lekku can sit in, like a Renaissance era snood, but it hangs from the shoulders instead of the head, to support the weight.

Tia:

Hey, if higher tails are feminine do you think people push theirs higher/lower, even to an extent that maybe hurts a bit?

As mentioned, I stole the placement headcanon from a tumblr post, but yes, that sounds plausible.

Some very unpleasant communities (namely slave owners) insist on young girls wearing harnesses that yank them higher so they grow unnaturally high. IRL parallel would be waist training from prepubescence, or foot binding.

People with longer lekku definitely wear them over the shoulder sometimes, just going off of my experiences wearing a longer ponytail fall that starts from a similarly high part of the skull.

Dudes with four lekku are considered very macho and attractive but they have to deal with the worst strain and end up with just. Massive neck muscles.

Also I keep thinking about the thing I once heard about how the Megara character actors at Disney World all have chiropractors on Disney's dime because of how heavy the wig is

Jade:

Crisscross to opposite shoulders to keep them out of the way Horrible hypothetical Discourse idea: high pigtails are twi’lek cultural appropriation Especially if you wear it with a headband

Tia:

I imagine most twi’lek wouldn’t actually care, hair isn’t like lekku at all, but there’d be furious debate all the same. Braids are worse.

This is where I start thinking about lekku amputations like breast reductions. So much weight hecking up the spine that it's easier to just. Cut off the surplus, excess tissue. It does impact their ability to communicate, since so much of Ryl involves lekku language, so it's not a decision anyone makes lightly.

The doctors are all incredibly trained because if you cut too high you endanger brain tissue.

There are generally several feet of sensory lekku tissue before reaching the brainy bits, but the risk of infection is a nightmare.

I think those who get lekku reduction have like. Specialty accessories? Lightweight caps with tassels so the visual effect is still somewhat there, but the weight is gone.

Tia:

Having fun with gender presentation in general. Femmes embracing low lekku, butches rocking high lekku. Defiance re: what your role should be.

Not twi’leks but oh boy some togruta ladies have absurdly long lekku

Thankfully, theirs start from significantly lower on the head, and rest heavily on the shoulders and back.

#twileks #twi'leks #twilek #twi'lek #lekku #togruta #star wars #the clone wars #alien biology #xenobiology #world building #lekku harnesses #crown undies

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Note

soooo about trailer park!ari loving anal.. would you ever .. hmmm.. elaborate bestie?👁👁

✋👁👁🤚 of course bestie

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Trailer Park!Ari Levinson x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - minors DNI, size difference, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex (anal), dirty talk, choking, dumbification, degradation, Ari is filthy, rough sex, spitting, fingering (f), mhm Ari's balls, reader is a little inexperienced, overstimulation, a smidge of dacryphilia, perhaps cock/ball worship, squirting, dom/sub undertones. mentioned/implied: oral (f & m), creampie

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Dirty trailer daddy fucks you stupid.

𝗪/𝗖 | 834

𝗔/𝗡 | consider this a snippet/smutty spoiler for my trailer park ari fic: flamingo king

Ari is a sucker for worship, he'd usually spend hours kissing and mapping out your body, thoroughly fucking all your holes, but he's definitely got an equal obsession for your cunt and ass.

“Getting too hot, sugar?”

Your nails dig into the sheets, hips stuttering when he rams forward, his hard chest flush against your back. “N-No, 'm okay—daddy." You add the last bit as he hooks his bicep around your throat, his warm breath brushing your cheek.

"Don't worry, I'll cool you off later." Ari kisses and nibbles on your neck, while his beard rubs your skin. He's balls-deep, his heavy sack against your weepy pussy, “Keep going. Daddy didn’t tell you to stop.”

You slowly start moving again, clutching his forearm as tears of pleasure well in your eyes, "s-so deep, daddy, I can't."

"You can, c'mon." One of his hands land on your waist, “Grind that little pussy on the pillow.”

The plush cotton is soft against you and combined with his thick dick pounding into your ass, you've never felt closer to heaven. Filthy, sinful heaven.

With each rocking motion, your swollen clit gets even needier which is exactly what Ari wants. He watches your face twist before your jaw falls slack, loud, porn-worthy moans flowing from your bitten lips.

He turns your face towards him, smiling as your hungry eyes beg for something. "Open up, baby." He spits into your mouth before capturing your lips in a messy kiss. When he pulls away, there's a string of saliva between you. "That's it, daddy knew you could do it. What a good girl." He praises through heavy pants, hair falling in his face before combs it back.

Ari releases you, his rough fingertips push your shoulders as you fall forward onto the bed. He chuckles as you face plant, hiccuping quiet whines as his length reaches deeper, if possible.

He spreads your cheeks, grunting at the sight of your ass stretched around his cock. His thrusts slows the slightest so he can watch your rim struggle to take his veiny girth, “Fuck, daddy’s splitting you in half. Little ass can't take much more or else you'll start crying,” He pauses as you whimper, "oh, never mind, my baby's been crying on my cock all day, huh?"

You nod, thighs quivering as euphoria streams through your body. It's like you're numb to everything but him, the blistering heat and the chatter outside fades away. The only thing that matters right now is Ari.

His touch trails between your legs and meet your dripping cunt, your slick, and his seed leaking from your used hole. “Aw, my little slut's cunt wants some attention too? I haven't been neglecting you, right?”

"No, daddy."

He made sure your centre was pumped full before he bent you over the bed. But, he did slip a few fingers into your puckered hole while you rode his face, he just couldn't help it.

"Look at that," He spits down where you meet, smearing his salvia around your puffy rim. He briefly considers tasting your sweetness again, but he doubts you'd last that long judging by your trembling.

Instead, he speeds up again, going harder, rougher. Each pound pushes you further up the bed, his big frame looming over you like a vast shadow. He could crush you if he wanted.

"Dumb baby is getting me all wet, making a stupid mess on my bed. I wonder what everyone out there thinks, listening to you take this fat cock in your ass. Be louder for daddy, I want them all to know what a good kitten you are."

He turns your face towards the opened window and the warm breeze ghosts over your heated skin. "You gonna clean me later, princess? Suck my balls in your pretty mouth, clean up all our cream."

"Uh-huh." You desperately nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he slides two fingers into your cunt, keeping you full while fucking your ass. "W-Want them, please, in my mouth, daddy."

"But how are you gonna fit them in there, baby?" Ari asks mockingly, abs flexing as you tighten around him, sucking him deeper. He leans forward, hot and hefty above you. His built thighs keep yours together as he straddles your ass, pinning you to the mattress as it creaks, the whole trailer rocks with his motions. "You know just how big I am, you gonna choke yourself trying to suck my sack like a fucking whore?"

You gnaw on another pillow, your sensitive folds roughly rub against the pillow. Your high hits suddenly, making you jerk under him, clawing at the sheets with a choked whine, you clench around him, making him curse loudly and grip your cheeks. You soak the fabric with your juices, your smell forever embedded into the pillow.

Your sounds quiet into pathetic moans, and your breath hitches as he drives forward, fucking you deeper. Ari's groans harmonize with the lewd wet slapping that fills his trailer, "Stupid girl, daddy's gonna make you clean that pillow too. You want that?"

You barely manage to nod, he's so big—he's too much and you love it, there isn't any room left inside you for any thoughts.

"What's wrong? Daddy fucked you dumb already?" When you don't answer, Ari entwines your fingers and holds your hands above your head, supporting his weight. He grinds into your ass, your poor little hole is already sore from his fat girth, and you know you won't be able to walk later.

His voice rings in your ears, "It's okay, sugar, daddy's got you. Gonna cum in your ass then I'll clean you up, and give you a taste too. Then, you're gonna let me fuck your pretty face, gotta use all your holes before I take you home."

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