#He just stands back and puts his hands behind his back and head down

[lymtw]

Toji in a fresh relationship with you, where he notices how uncomfortable and anxious you are when you're alone with him. You can't hold his gaze without giggling nervously and blushing like crazy, and you can't stand when you can feel him watching you. It doesn't bother him. He usually meets your little giggle fits with a "what're you giggling about now? Huh?" a smirk on his face as he watches you try to compose yourself.

You noticed through your peripheral vision that Toji is looking at you. Your heart starts beating faster and faster, but you try to focus on the movie, anyway. Toji knows you caught on to him watching you, though. He saw your quick little side eye towards him before going back to the movie.

"Loosen up," his deep voice interrupts your "focused" bearing. "Why're you so nervous?" His hand settles on your knee, his thumb slowly stroking the area. It was meant to soothe your nerves, but really it just made your stomach errupt with butterflies.

"I'm okay," you say, your mouth incredibly dry. You turn your head as he scoots closer to you on the couch. "'M I okay to sit here?" He asks, watching the way you pull your hand away from between you and him, into your lap. His hand returns on you, this time on your thigh.

"You're shaking," he points out with a knowing smile on his face.

You have to think for a second before responding. Your ears were buzzing, your heart would not settle, you were truly in a daze whenever Toji was around.

"Just a little cold," you lie. "I'm fine, though." You return the soft smile, turning your focus back to the movie.

"Then come here. What are you sitting so far from me for?" He puts an arm over your shoulders, pulling you tight against him.

Your body goes rigid in his hold. He's like a furnace, and the heat emmanating from his body was enough to make you feel like you were overheating. His scent was wet dream fuel—intoxicating and addicting. It was strong enough for you to start manifesting his appearance in your dreams, with the most lewd and unholy intentions.

His fingers stroked your arm, eliciting goosebumps on your forearms and your thighs. He can tell your attention isn't on the movie anymore. Your leg is bouncing, your knee occasionally knocking against his.

"What are you so nervous about, sweetheart? C'mon, talk to me." You can hear the amusement in Toji's tone. He pauses the movie, demanding your attention, but you don't even know where to start. There are so many things and yet you can't get a single one of them out.

"You don't like hanging out alone with me?"

"I do," you answer, instantly, trying to avoid hurting his feelings. You clasp your hands together in an attempt to relax.

"Then what's the problem, pretty?" He watches as you sit quietly, looking down at your lap. "Look at me." Your eyes slowly meet his, the eye contact giving you the illusion of being swallowed whole. "What is it?"

Your hands unclasp and your fingers start fidgeting with one another. "You're very attractive..." you mumble, basically inaudible to Toji.

"One more time for me, doll," he says, asking you to repeat yourself. He leans in to listen closely.

"You're... very attractive," you hesitantly repeat, this time with enough volume for Toji to hear you.

He's trying so hard not to laugh at how embarrassed you look at your admission, but it's not possible when you look so ashamed for saying it out loud.

"You're attracted to me, so you shrink?" He asks, the wide smile left behind from his laughter not diminishing.

You nod, your hands coming up to your face to cool down your burning cheeks. Toji finds the glossiness in your eyes adorable.

"So, I'm the one scaring you?"

"No...? I don't know..." You look away from Toji.

"You don't know." He chuckles. He knows it's him, but he won't let up because he's having a damn good time making you coil in on yourself. "Let me tell you something, doll face." He turns his whole body towards you, his leg bent on the couch. The movement causes you to lean back, adding space between you and him. His eyes flit between your eyes and your lips. "You are stunning. There's way too much to appreciate on that little mug of yours." He grins at the blush on your cheeks. "There's no need to be so shy around me. I'm not gonna eat you." He leans in again, taking up the whole space you made between you and him. "At least not yet."

Your heart dropped to your guts. You weren't sure you'd make it through the night without having a heart attack.

"You wanna kiss me, don't you?" His eyes center on yours, and you giggle, a valid response to his question. He smirks knowing the meaning behind your reaction. "I have eyes, babe. There's really no use denying it."

The closer he moves towards you, the more you feel like screaming. You know a good scream would relieve a whole lot of tension for you, but what would that look like to Toji?

"I-I do..."

"Then come here. Why are you leaning away?" He lets out a deep chuckle. "I'll lead if you want."

"Fine," you surrender.

Toji sighs, contentedly. "Just don't move. I'm serious, pretty girl. You move, and i'll bring the cuffs out."

You crack a grin, one that evolves into a laugh after a few seconds.

"Kidding, ma. Just wanted to make you laugh." He grins.

You don't even notice how close he's sitting until you stop laughing. You stare at each other in silence, his eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips again.

"Just relax and-"

You lean in this time, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. It's like a zap of electricity to your entire body when you feel his lips against yours. They're warm, and surprisingly soft. He doesn't shove his tongue into your mouth, which you're grateful for. That's for later on. You just couldn't wait any longer. Waiting was making you even more anxious, so you dived into the moment.

"Oh, sweetheart," he almost groans. "You'll drive me insane if you keep up the shy girl act," he mutters against your lips. "I know you want me like I want you, so quit making me beg." He moved closer towards you, knowing you'd back away, eventually meeting a dead end with your back against the couch. Your eyes told him everything he needed to know. You were lusting over him and you wanted him to get you.

You looked up at him with starry eyes, your cunt throbbing at the way he watched you closely. You watched as he quickly invaded your personal space, his body wedged between your legs, making them spread wider to accomodate his size difference.

"What are you so scared of? Don't you want me?" His hands fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His knuckles grazed your lower abdomen a couple times, making your heart race.

"I-I do, Toji." Your focus went to his crotch rubbing up against you as he leaned in.

"Yeah, you do?" He purred beneath your ear, allowing his lips to meet the sensitive skin of your neck after.

"Fuck," you whimper. "I do."

"You wet for me?" He asks, moving his lower body enough to make you believe he's just balancing himself, but still giving you the friction that's making you lose your composure.

"Mhm," you hum, breathing erratically as he kisses up the column of your neck, towards your chin.

"Can I check?" He murmurs, nipping at your jawline. You shut your eyes, your teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as another blissed out "mhm" leaves you.

His hand slides down your waist, moving towards the center of your stomach where he continues sliding down until his fingers go under your pants' waistband. He feels the elastic band of your underwear, his fingers maneuvering beneath it as well. You gasp when you feel his fingers dip lower until he's tracing your slippery folds. His dick twitches at the amount of arousal drooling out of you.

"You're bad, mama." He sighs, listening to your little breaths as he teases you. How long had you been turned on to be this wet? "Were you gonna keep this from me had I not been so persistent?" His middle and index fingers glide up and down your slit.

You let out a moan when he started rubbing your clit, his rough pads giving you more friction than anything you've ever felt.

"Answer me." His dark, green eyes bore into your closed ones. "Were you gonna get yourself off once I left?"

"Y-Yes! Yes, Toji," you cried out, writhing beneath him. "Didn't wanna tell you. It's embarrassing," you whine.

He chuckles. "That why you were on edge earlier? 'Cause you were on the edge of cumming, untouched?"

You nod, rolling your eyes open to meet his gaze. Your lust-filled gaze made chills run up his spine, the sight borderline sinful. He cups your jaw with his free hand, his grip tight as he stares into your constellation eyes. "Look at me like that again and i'll fuck you 'til you can't see straight. You hear me?" He was fighting the urge to bust his load into his jeans. It was already hard enough having to watch you as you fell apart on his fingers, but now you were giving him "fuck me" eyes, and it got ten times harder.

His threat only brought your orgasm closer. He had never spoken to you that way before. It had your stomach filling to the brim with butterflies, but you responded with a moaned "uh-huh", anyway.

"T-Toji, I'm gonna cum. More, please," you whimpered.

"Aren't you a sensitive little thing? Didn't even have to finger you to make you cum."

"Oh, fuck-" you cry out, cut off by Toji's hand.

"Shh... I know, I know, sweet girl," he coos, his fingers teasing you down at your entrance. "Gonna cum? Make a pretty mess on my fingers, hm?" He mumbles, his lips returning to your neck.

You hum, sultrily. Your arms are stretched above your head, your nails digging into the armrest of the couch. You arch your back off the cushions, loud gasps released into the air when Toji releases his hold on your mouth. You slowly roll your hips into Toji's hand, chasing the friction against your cunt.

"Fuck, baby. You feeling yourself?" His cock is throbbing at the sight of you looking so careless. Your face is aimed up, your lips parted as you release all the sounds of pleasure that you're capable of. His fingers go back up to your clit, the pad of his middle finger rubbing rapidly at the nub. It was driving you insane, how close you were to cumming on his fingers. Your stomach caved with every breath you inhaled and your whole body trembled as you treaded over the edge of your devastingly powerful orgasm.

Toji watched as you writhed beneath him, his lidded eyes taking in your contorted features as you cried out in overwhelming pleasure. He leaned in to kiss up your neck again, really just wanting to be closer to the source of the sounds filling the room. "So fuckin' pretty," he trilled into your jaw. Your soft little grunts reached his ears, turning to whines as you tried to wriggle away from the stimulation. He didn't miss the way your thighs clamped around his torso, signaling that his touch was getting to be too much. "Alright, alright. Had enough?"

You nod, a huff leaving you as he slowly takes his hand out of your underwear.

You sigh after catching your breath, feeling enlightened and satisfied. You giggle when you see Toji's staring at you. "What?"

"It's gonna be my mouth next time." His hands are on your hips, massaging deep circles into the material of your pants. "M gonna taste you on my tongue, and I want all that wetness on my lips and your cum all over my face, instead of my fingers."

"You're so vulgar, Toji," you say, with a smile on your face. You're unaware of how big the hearts in your eyes are when you look at this man.

He sighs as he lays down on you, his body weighing you down. He looks up at you, his chin resting on your chest. "How can you expect any different when you look like hell's favorite sinner when you cum?" He exhales through his nose, thinking of the look on your face that is now engraved into his mind. His dick could become a huge problem if he thinks about it for too long. "For real, doll, I wanna see that again but with my face between your legs."

You giggle to yourself, wishing the comment didn't have you blushing like you were. Your whole body was heating up.

"You're not gonna run when I get close to you next time, right? Gonna be a good girl for me?" He smirks at the twitch of your thighs around him.

"No, i'll be good. I promise."

"That's right, baby. I'll be looking forward to it," he says before burying his face into your breasts.

#toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #dilf toji #jjk toji #jjk toji x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #jjk scenarios #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro x you #toji fluff

[moonstruckme]

He would never take those bracelets off 😭 now I kinda want a fic of counselor James and counselor reader how cute

Hi, I've lowkey been hoarding this for months because I wanted to wait until I felt summery enough, thank you for requesting!!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 693 words

“Land ho, boys!” A familiar voice reaches you over the water. Your eyes are closed towards the sun, but you feel your lips twitch upward. “Thomas, if you don’t help Callum paddle you’ll fall behind, and the last one to shore has to buy me a popsicle after dinner. Hey, look, we’ve got a mermaid on our beach!” 

You turn your head to the side, squinting your eyes to see James and his cabin of boys paddling toward you in kayaks over the lake. You lift your hand in a lazy wave. 

“Oh, false alarm, it’s just y/n. Hi, y/n!” He raises an arm to wave back at you, wrist stacked with string bracelets made with care by small hands. You swear he’s got more from your own cabin than you have, but you don’t mind; James is a hero to most of the kids at camp, the goofy gentle giant who lets them ride on his shoulders when your manager isn’t looking and deals temporary tattoos out of his cabin during mealtimes. “Careful, Archie, mate, if she catches you rocking your kayak like that she’s going to hang you from the lifeguard stand by your toes.” The boys laugh, and James protests, “No, really! I’ve seen her do it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You roll your eyes and close them again, turning your face back towards the sky. It’s not until you hear the shushing of kayaks against the coarse sand and a shadow falls over you that you say, without opening your eyes, “Spreading rumors about me again?” 

“They know better than to take me seriously.” James’ shadow moves as he sits beside you on the sand, and you turn your head again to see him. He’s looking over his shoulder at the boys, the lean muscles of his abdomen stretching and dusky skin shining with sweat in the afternoon sun. “Hey, whoever puts my kayak and paddle up, I’ll buy them a popsicle after dinner.” Shouts and bickering ensue, and James turns back around with a smile. “Where are your kids?” he asks you. 

“In arts and crafts,” you say. “Figured I’d catch a nap while they were busy.” 

He hums, setting his hands on the warm sand behind him and leaning back. “So, you didn’t just come here to see how fit I looked dragging a paddle through the water?” 

You know James is only playing, but embarrassment tingles down to your toes anyway. “Not this time, sorry.” 

“Mm, don’t believe you.” He shoots you a grin, and you look away under the guide of rolling your eyes. That thing is more glaring than the sun. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?” 

“Don’t we have to?” you ask. It’s the last night of this session, and camp always closes out with a bonfire and s’mores for the kids. 

“I mean the other bonfire.” At your blank look, James continues, looking rather too pleased to know something you don’t, “After the kid’s bonfire, when they’re all watching a movie in the cafeteria, some of the counselors are planning to go out into the woods and have a grown-up’s bonfire.” 

You giggle. “Grown-ups? What are we, twelve?”

James bobs his head. “And we’re gonna have s’mores, and tell ghost stories, and maybe play truth or dare,” he says in an exaggeratedly animated tone. “It’s gonna be super cool.” 

“It sounds super cool,” you agree, laughing. “I’ll be there.” 

“Excellent.” James casts a look over his shoulder and starts standing up. “I should get back to my kids before they injure each other.” 

You check the time and sigh. “Yeah, me too.” 

“Want a hand?” 

You reach up and James takes your hands in his, hauling you upright. Your head lightens once you’re vertical, a combination of your sun-warmed skin and James’ touch making you woozy. 

“See you later?” he asks, releasing your hands and starting to back away as the shouting behind him grows more boisterous. “I’ll come find you in the cafeteria, we can walk together.” 

“That’d be great, thanks.” You start walking away, too, ignoring the pleasant buzzing in your chest. “I wouldn’t miss it.” 

#camp counselor!james potter #james potter au #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[targaryen-dynasty]

HEAVY IS THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN.

Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), kinda non/dub con, p in v, semi public sex, doggy style, degrading, slapping, possessiveness, jealousy

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: This is something I had written and posted on another blog when I (rightfully so) didn't feel accepted and wanted in fandom. So, if any of you remembers this, it was written by me. This is Lingo Jam High Valyrian (it is what it is).

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

It’s way past the Hour of the Owl as you stand in the Throne Room all by yourself, all the tables for the guests of your coronation feast having already been cleared and stored away by the keep’s staff, leaving the room to be eerily quiet and empty. 

You stand in front of the intimidating Iron Throne, looming in the dim light of the candles around you, your fingertips barely brushing the sharp swords that were used to forge it by your ancestors, reminiscing about all the times you’ve seen your father sitting on it. 

Unlike your grandsire and father before you, you chose to wear the Conqueror's Crown and wield his sword, the big, square-cut rubies complimenting the red and gold gown you wear. 

The heavy doors leading to the intimidating chambers open behind you, but you don’t turn around, knowing all too well who intrudes the silence and serenity. His footsteps are heavy, bouncing off the thick columns and walls on his way. 

“Skoros iksis ziry ao jeldan naejot ȳdragon naejot nyke nūmāzma?” you ask, but before you’re able to turn around, the weight of your husband’s chest against your back pushes you forward, the ostentatious crown on your head toppling to the ground at the impact. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?

Both your hands immediately seize the armrests of the Iron Throne for support, more so when Daemon’s hand falls to the place between your shoulders to keep you exactly like you are, bowed forward with no chance to move. 

“Hm,” he hums, applying just a bit of pressure to your back. “How about the wanton farce you put up for that cunt of a Lannister?” he growls, and it’s clear it is not a question but an accusation. 

There is not one breath wasted when he rucks up the skirts of your gown and bunches it around your waist, fisting it with one of his large paws. The matter clearly is serious, and has occupied him for quite some time now, considering he prefers to answer you in the Common Tongue rather than High Valyrian. 

But it’s not like you have much time to really process the meaning behind it, considering he has the skirt of your dress in his hand in one moment, and your small clothes pulled down to your knees in the next. Your cunt is exposed to the chilly air of the Red Keep, and to anyone that chooses to intrude on such an intimate and disgraceful scene, and much to your husband’s surprise, you’re soaked with anticipation, which earns you a condescending scoff from him. 

He has quickly figured that there isn't going to come any reply from you, too caught up in the heat of the moment and the little predicament you’ve found yourself in, and forces a gasp from your lips as his hand not-so-gently collides with your bare rear. 

Your body slightly lulls forwards to escape the stinging pain that blooms on your skin, but to now avail. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you press with despair audible in your voice. 

But he just scoffs again. “Oh, I’m certain you don’t,” his voice is sharp, and the words underlined by another slap to your arse. “Need I remind Your Grace who they belong to?” The title is spoken in a way to make a mock display of his courtesy, displaying how little care he holds over your status at this moment.

You’re not quite sure what he is up to when you feel and hear him shifting and fumbling behind you, although you have a mild guess, until you feel the tip of his hard cock pressing against your soaked cunt. He pushes in even before you can answer, any words or pathetic protests dying on your tongue and replaced by a moan. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says more to himself, his tone suddenly taking on an air of smugness. His words are followed by a groan that flows into a heedless sigh as he bottoms out completely, his heavy stones pressing against your pearl. 

It’s a side to Daemon you haven’t seen or experienced before, despite growing up around him, his several liaisons and wives. There has never been something akin to jealousy coursing through his veins before. Yes, Daemon has always been a little too rough, too impatient and resolving matters by force rather than diplomacy, but you’ve never seen his blood run this hot. 

His upper body slightly bends forward and towers over yours as he rests one hand on the backrest of the Throne, the other still on your hip with your skirts tightly secured.

“What–” the words catch in your throat, replaced by a whimper. “What if anyone sees us?” 

“Jaelan zirȳ naejot ūndegon,” he growls. “Jaelan zirȳ naejot gīmigon bona iksā ñuhon.” I want them to see. I want them to know that you’re mine. 

The whine you release at that is nothing short of desperate. While the thought of anyone catching you two frightens you to the core, you enjoy the possessive side of him, reveling in his desire just for you since you’ve shared it most of your life with your younger sister. 

Pulling out of you almost completely, the tip of his cock is the only thing that remains buried inside of you. While the feeling of the sudden loss makes you whine and push your hips back to force him inside again, it also earns you another harsh slap that’s served to your arse. 

“Ao sagon ñuhon se mazemā skoros nyke tepagon ao, iksis bona shifang?” You're mine and you take what I give you, is that understood?

Daemon then slams his hips into yours as a warning, filling you up in a swift thrust that has you gasping, and knocks the air straight from your lungs. “Gaomagon daor mazverdagon nyke ivestragon ziry arlī,” he snarls. “Gaomagon. Ao. Shifang?” Each word is punctuated with a harsh snap of his hips.  Don’t make me say it again. Do. You. Understand?

“K… kessa,” you hiccup. Yes. 

The pace of his thrusts is nothing short of ruthless, and he uses the grip on your hip to pull you back onto his cock for your bodies to meet halfway, the most obscene sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing off the walls of the Throne Room.

His stones are heavy and the fleshy pouch they sit in slightly sagged, hitting your pearl perfectly each time he fills you to the brim, and sending shivers to the soles of your feet. 

Daemon forces your hips higher until you’re standing on your tiptoes for him, your body barely supported by his fingers digging into your hip. The angle changes with that, allowing him to shove his cock into you even deeper than before – a change that has him groaning and grunting over and over again. 

Your eyes lull into the back of your head, and the heat in your belly doesn’t diminish, causing a renewed wave of arousal to leak out of your core. 

Not caring if the skirts of your gown are riding down again, he grips the back of your neck firmly enough so you can’t turn your head, fucking you as if his life depends on it and knocking every breath clean out of your lungs. 

Daemon forces his hips into yours with such determination, he is close to shoving you up against the Iron Throne with the force of his need, your arms almost buckling under the weight he puts onto you. You can tell he’s racing for completion, effectively pulling you with him in the process. 

With the pace of his hips not faltering once, your peak washes over you in an ambush. The pleasure in your body gets intense enough for your legs to tremble, his hand that rests on the Iron Throne coming down to seize your hip to support you. Your walls clench around his cock tight enough for him to draw in a sharp breath, but the assault on your cunt doesn’t cease. 

“Qilōni gaomagon ao sytilībagon naejot?” Daemon groans, pulling you back onto his cock and fucking you through your peak. Who do you belong to? It’s almost as if he’s asking for your reassurance, wanting to be sure of your feelings for him. 

“A… ao,” you hiccup. “Ik… iksan aōhon.” You. I’m yours.

His peak crashes over him with your reassurance, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your cunt. His hands trail up and down your sides in nothing else than pure bliss, and when it’s all over, he releases a sigh of relief, almost as if the pressure has fallen off his shoulders. 

He cups your arse with both hands, and squeezes your flesh. When he doesn’t make any move to pull out of you, however, it’s clear that he is relishing the way your drenched cunt embraces his flaccid cock.

“No one will make you feel as good as I do, dōna ābrazȳrys, and certainly no Lannister,” he rasps. “He would not know how to handle the Blood of the Dragon. You were made for me, and you belong to me. Always have, always will.” Sweet wife. 

Daemon Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #hotd daemon #prince daemon targaryen #daemon fic #daemon smut #daemon imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fic #hotd daemon targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon daemon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut #daemon stannies #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen x female reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 10

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

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

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

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

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a wondeful thursday.

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Queen Jazlene slumps against her chair. She’s barely awake as her eyes glaze over. Despite your deflections at serving her, she’d drunk herself to excess, swiping away goblets that weren't hers. Her constant imbibition has not been missed by her husband. Slanted looks and gristly whispers did little to deter her, your own gentle girding only fuelling her irritation. 

The king stands, stepping forward to overshadow his slouching queen. He raises a hand to the remaining crowd; the clumsy and drunken dancers, the chittering ladies, and the boasting lords. They turn their attention to him and hush. 

“So I must retire for the night, I bid you all a hearty rest,” he pronounces, “and may tomorrow see a brighter sun shine upon us all.” 

A hurrah is sent up in return and the king waits until the large hall falls back into its previous din. He turns slowly, his head down, and flares his nostrils at his queen. His golden eyes skim up and down the table. 

“Come,” he takes her hand, “let us get you abed.” 

Jazlene yawns and hiccups. She does not resist as he tugs her to her feet, though she teeters once upright. He swiftly hooks his arm around her, keeping her away from the view of the hall. He huffs heavily and ushers her around the bench. 

“Maid,” he demands over his shoulder. 

You follow as he carries on, finding a door behind the high table. The dimness of the corridor fogs around his figure as Jazlene’s slippers begin to drag. She babbles and gurgles. 

“I warned you not to drink so much,” he mutters, “why can you not obey? Why can you not just do what is best for you?” 

You tread behind them silently. The king falters and grunts, scooping up his wife before she can slip further down his arm. As he lifts her, her head lolls back over his thick bicep. He growls and presses onward. 

As he reaches her chamber door, you come around to open it for him. He doesn’t say a word as he enters and you wait near the entrance as he lays Jazlene down on the bed. She is very silent and still, only the subtle rise and fall of her chest suggesting a glimmer of life. 

You peer around as the king looms over her, his hand on the post of the bed as he simmers at her. His other arm bends as he rubs the bridge of his nose. You go to the vanity and take the now cool basin of water. You reach into your apron pocket as you hug the large bowl and cross to the bed. 

You pull out a cloth as you sit on the edge of the mattress and balance the bowl against your bent leg. You wet the fabric and lean over the queen to wipe her face. The kohl around her eyes has begun to smear and a sheen of sweat layers over her rich skin. You sense the king watching your deliberate tending. 

“You are good to her,” he remarks. 

“She will not feel well in the morning,” you say, “I will make sure she has water to drink and a warm compress when she wakes, your highness.” 

He’s quiet as he considers your words, “you will stay with her?” 

You wring out the cloth and fold it over the edge of the basin before moving it back to the vanity. You face the king and clasp your hands over your apron, “she cannot be alone when she has drunk so much. Once...” you shake your head and let the statement taper out, “your highness, she will need me.” 

“Hmm,” he pulls his hand off the post, pacing around the end of the bed and turn towards you, “once what?” 

“Nothing, your highness. It was only a memory I had. It doesn’t matter now.” 

“I would like to hear it,” he insists. 

You swallow down the dryness in your throat, “your highness, well, her mother, the duchess, she is the same about wine. Once she drank overly much that she did not wake when her stomach revolted. If we’d not been there to watch over her, she might have choked on it.” 

“Ah, yes,” he stops, just a step away, “that would be unfortunate. I will thank you then for keeping a close eye on my lady wife.” 

“As is my duty, your highness.” 

His eyes blaze down at you and he shifts on his feet, “but will you sleep?” 

“Me? I rest in the cart--” 

“We will not leave on the morrow, I have business yet in the capital,” he explains, “when the lady is awake, you will make certain she is conscious, then you will go and seek rest of your own.” 

“Your highness, how generous, but she would need to break her fast, and dress anew, perhaps bathe--” 

“There are other maids in this castle. I am commanding you to retire for the day. You will need strength for our pending departure,” he bids, “to serve your queen upon the road.” 

You bow your head, apologetic, “your highness, I did not mean to argue. Certainly, I will do as you say. Thank you for minding me.” 

He inches forward and your shoulders slant as you shrink for his closeness. You see his thick fingers twiddle at his side and his hot breath blasts over you like a brazier. He cautiously bends his arm and touches the front of your apron. You quiver as you watch his calloused hand climb up the stained fabric. He pauses and shudders, pinching the loose thread poking out from the belt. He pulls it loose and rolls it between his fingertips. 

“You will have new clothes,” he backs away, feeling the thread, twisting it, “you are a queen’s maid now. Not some castle sweep.” 

You squeeze your hands tighter as you stare at his tunic, “yes, your highness. Thank you anon.” 

He turns on his sole reluctantly and looks upon the bed. You follow his gaze to his subdued wife. He hangs his head and puts his back to you before he pivots toward the door. He stalks toward it and pulls it open with enough strength to make the hinges whine. 

“Good night, little maid,” he drawls just before the door snaps shut in his stead. 

You raise your eyes completely and stare at the heavy wooden slats of the door. Your chest is knotted so tight you can hardly breathe. The king’s displeasure lingers even his absence. Is he unhappy with his inebriate wife or is it you? You quickly dismiss the latter. You don’t matter so much. No, his marriage is not an easy one thus far. 

⚔️

You only know Queen Jazlene is awake as she spits bile onto the floor. Her head hangs over the side of the bed as she wretches and spews, coughing and gagging until she goes limp and groans. The acidic smell permeates the chamber and you come forward to clean it away with a cloth. 

Once you’ve sopped up the mess, you leave her to dispose of the smelly rags and return with a cool, fresh basin and a new cloth. You help her onto her back, propping her against the pillows and clean her face anew. She moans as she keeps her eyes closed, a ripple in her forehead. 

“Too bright,” she mutters. 

“I will draw the curtains, your highness,” you assure her as you rescind the cloth and rise to do so. 

She winces as you pull the heavy drapes together and groans, “my husband... did he not see back to my chamber?” 

“He carried you here, your highness,” you explain, “you were not feeling well.” 

“Mm, I still do not,” she decries. 

“Shall I call for a bath?” You suggest. 

“Do what you will but be quiet,” she hisses as she shades her eyes beneath her long fingers. 

She gurgles as she sinks down and rolls upon her side. She curls up and you stare at her back. You go to the door and ease it open. You emerge and pass between the guards without. You are no more than a draught to them. As you approach the stairs, your name is called from ahead. You peer down the next corridor. 

“Eh, there you are,” Bryce approaches. You can tell by the shine in his hair that he has bathed, “and what mission has you so intent?” 

“I am to fetch lemon water for the queen. She has a sour stomach,” you say and turn back to the steps.  

The soldier descends apace with you and chortles, “as she would. She can drain an ewer like no other I’ve seen.” 

“Mm,” you hum grimly. 

“Ah, pardon, I do not mean to be cruel,” he says, “it is only... often we reap what we sow, yes?” 

“I suppose,” you allow. 

“Speaking of, mouse, it is your turn to reap,” he spins and stretches his arm across your path, “king’s orders.” 

You shake your head in confusion. 

“The queen--” 

“I will send another for her lemon water. But our dear liege and lord has bid that you rest your head. And I do concur. You are only mortal, little mouse.” 

“But I must--” 

“Obey your king,” he insists and rescinds his arm, crossing it with his other across his chest. “I’ve been given leave to treat you as prisoner if ye resist but I do not wish to go so far.” 

You frown. You recall the night before. The king’s orders are not forgotten but you thought perhaps they mightn’t be standing. You bow your head and press your palm to your stomach, another memory flitting through your mind. The king’s hand brushing along the belt of your apron. 

“I’ve acquired you a fine chamber,” Bryce says. “Gods, how could one ever be so glum about a bed of their own?” 

“Sir, I am not unhappy,” you counter. “I am...” you lift your head, “tired.” 

“Oh, how the fates align,” he quips, “come then. There is a bath and new dress too. I was too kind to mention it but you were starting to smell a bit too close to Daisy.” 

You can’t but laugh and snort, “hey!” 

“May as well take benefit in staying still,” he says, “now, let us hurry before the water is cold.” 

You acquiesce and follow him away from the kitchen. You hope Jazlene is not discontent with your straying. You walk along several corridors and up to the second floor again. You do not expect to stop at one of thick doors meant for nobility. 

“In here,” Bryce takes out an iron key and unlocks the door. He pushes it open and steps back. “I will come in an hour to look in on you but I trust by then you will be abed.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you affirm. 

“Be certain to have some of the food,” he orders you, “much better than the goat meat I’ve been chewing on.” 

You thank him one last time and enter on your own. He closes the door behind you and you hear the lock twist. The loud grind of cogs does not unsettle you. It’s rare you ever have a moment of solace, though often you feel alone. 

You look around the chamber. It is much too grand for you. There is a wide bed at one end with a long canopy. The window lets in a warm breeze as the steam coiling from the large tub dampens the air. The furniture here is just as fine as that in the queen’s rooms. 

You meander around and stop before the covered tray on the round table. You lift the lid and reveal an assortment of fruit and cooked oats drizzled with honey. Your stomach roars and clenches painfully. Without a thought, you sit on the stool to gulp the porridge from the brim. You empty near half the bowl before you stop to catch your breath. 

You pluck at the citrus and devour the fruit with delighted purrs. When you have glutted your hunger to the point of discomfort, you lick your lips and rise. You near the tub as untie your apron. Your body aches for the heat of the water. 

You leave the layers of your filthy garments on the floor and step into the depths. You sigh as you lower yourself in. Relief seeps through your flesh and enshrines you. You lay back for a time and bask in the calm. Before the water can cool, you sit up to scrub yourself clean. 

When you finish, you climb out and pull on the shift folded on the top of the stack; a dress, and apron, stockings, and even shoes. There is no cap. You fish around your disposed clothing and retrieve your own. You soak it in the bathwater, wringing it out until it’s not so browned. 

A knock comes at the door. You sit on the edge of the mattress and call to the visitor, “hello?” 

“Eh, it’s me,” Bryce’s salty timbre comes through the wood, “you sleep now, mouse.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He taps the door and you hear his footsteps fade away. You recline across the bed and stare up at the canopy. You close your eyes but your stomach is uneasy. You don’t know why. The bed is too soft, the linens too fluffy. 

You puff and sit up. You get to your feet and circle around the bed to the short bench across the foot of it. You tuck yourself onto the barely cushioned wood and bend your legs to fit. You fold and arm under your head. Much better. 

It isn’t very long before you succumb to your fatigue. You don’t realise how tired you truly are until you’re buried in sleep. Heavy and dark, almost suffocating. 

Behind your eyelids, you see streaks of colour, curling and rolling into visions. Shadowy forests and endless roads, the clop of horse hooves, the rattle of axles, and the crunch of boots in the dirt. The preening whine of the Queen as she splashes wine across your face. You gasp through the acrid sprinkle and fall backwards into air.  

You land on a heap of hay. You’re back in Debray, in the barn where you would flit away with Merinda to eat or even steal a nap. She would watch at the window and you would doze or nibble. You look over but do not see her. Instead, another stands at the opening.  

The king’s silver white hair hangs in waves down his muscled back. He wears only breeches as he stares off into the distance. The window greys with a storm beyond, pulsing from shades of dove feather to harrowing black. He faces you and his golden eyes glow like a wolf’s. 

You sit up and whimper. He prowls closer and closer, thunder crashing as a great gust blows through the barn. Then all at once, the tempest subsides and the wooden walls turn to stone. You’re trapped beneath something unbreakable, like iron, wrists bound. You look at your arms, pinned by large hands. You look above you and find yourself straddled beneath the king. 

He leans in, closer and closer, his fiery breath razing over you. 

“Little maid...” 

His growl snakes around your neck and you wake with a start. The bench teeters as you sit up, your hand gripping your forehead. You blink and look around, clearing the haze from your sleepy eyes. 

Just as in your dream, you are not alone. 

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

[natailiatulls07]

Lando Norris x Female!reader

Summary - She's a workaholic, he just wants to help but she won't listen

Warning - Reader working herself raw, angst but fluff ending

A/n - I'm trying to answer all your requests, I promise, but I've been struggling alot with my mental health and college recently so please be patient 🫶🏻

-

She was at it again. Every once in a while Y/n would work herself to the bone with her work, her fitness, etc. Every time there was a routine to it - An unhealthy and tiring routine. It was just something she’d do and no one knew how to pull her out of that routine. Well one person did and over time he learnt how to pull her out of it - Her own best friend.

Each time he’d collected her up into his arms, away from her desk and through the hall to her plush and abandoned couch. Lando would wrap himself around her, shielding her from the world and he would help her relax. That man was her safe space. Every single time.

-

“I hate when you do this to yourself” He mumbles. His green eyes flicker down to her, seeing her shoulder so tense pains him really. 

A small and sarcastic chuckle escapes her lips. They had this conversation before and it’s becoming repetitive now - maybe she should listen to him sometime soon. “Mmh I know” Y/n mumbles into his firm chest, she can feel his calloused hand stroking her hair. The formula one driver lets out a heavy sigh, much like the female on his chest he also knows the common conversation between the two. 

A frown tugs on the ends of her lips as Y/n pulls her head away from his chest. “I need to get back to work…” She mumbles, actively avoiding eye contact and moving to stand up from her couch. 

Immediately Lando can see how tense and rigid she is again - It was hard not to notice it. “No no, you need rest” He urges, his British accent is soft and worried. “You’re wearing yourself out, Y/n. Please just listen to me, I don’t want to see you hurt” Although it felt like he was controlling her, the man just really didn’t like seeing like this. 

Shaking her head rapidly, Y/n struggled to tug her hands away from his. Having taken her hands in his, Lando did this to slow her and to calm her. “Lando please, I need to work…” It was getting heated now. 

There was a look of concern behind his eyes. “Y/n, you need to rest.” He wasn’t about to let her walk right back into her death. “You are not going to work. All you’ve done is work yourself to the ground. Y/n do you even hear me right now?”

“No! It’s okay Lando…” She’s pleading with him now - not understanding the damage she was doing to herself.

Lando continues to grip onto her wrists, he was determined to get his best friend to take a deserved break. “Y/n, it’s far from okay!” His voice held conviction. “A break is what you need, this cycle you’ve put your body through will eventually lead you to breaking down and we both know that it’s unhealthy!” Unknowingly tears began to form in the white of his eyes the more she resisted. 

“Get out.” Silence followed the two words. Never did they fight nor did Y/n ever raise her voice. “You need to get out of my apartment. Now.” There’s no room for discussion.

His jaw falls and he’s in total shock. “What?” The driver breathes out. The grip on Y/n’s wrists loosens and falls. Having been nothing but supportive and kind, he felt betrayed. And then he shook his head - completely refusing to leave even when practically ordered to.

“You need to get out of my apartment. Get out now!” There’s venom behind her voice as she shouts.

“No!” The two are in a shouting match by now. Lando could feel his frustration boiling and his temper becoming untethered. “I’m not leaving you like this. You need to see that rest is needed. You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t” His fists clenched. All the formula one driver wanted to do was to help - not hurt her. 

Y/n sighs, realising that he won’t listen to her. “Fine. You can stay but don’t think you can stop me from working…” She narrows her eyes, pointing a finger towards the British man opposite her. “Unlike you, Lando Norris, some of us have to work our ass’ off every single day to just live!” 

Maybe she was right, maybe he was being selfish. But Y/n was killing herself with every coming day, anyone could see it. All Lando could do was sigh and nod his head. At least she was allowing him to stay, this way he could help. 

“Thank you…”

-

It had been two hours since Lando had seen Y/n. She had left him to settle herself in her office, back to the non stop typing. He was getting anxious and worried now.

Pausing the film he was watching, the driver moved from the couch and down the bright hall to her office. Listening from outside, he hadn’t heard anything. And when he slowly opened the door, there she was asleep. 

She looked so peaceful and relaxed. The corners of Landos lips curved into a smile. He really did love her and to see her finally at ease made him happy.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed…” He whispered, wrapping his arms around her before picking her up and carrying her to bed. Lando made his way out of the office and down the hall again to her bedroom.

As he was trying to open the door, Y/n started to stir. “Lando…?” Her voice filled with confusion and tiredness. Opening her eyes, the woman looked up at him to see his growing goatee and loveable smile. 

“Shh…go back to sleep sweetheart…” His voice was soft and gentle. Y/n felt like a princess right now as she slowly closed her eyes and fell back into a delicate slumber. “I love you so much…” Lando whispered as he lowered her down onto the plush bed - she didn’t hear him, he could only wish she did.

-

#formula one #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #formula one x y/n #f1 x y/n

[erwinsvow]

you write rafe so good and like you get me like sometimes i’m reading and i’m like “how’d they know😦” so HEAR ME OUT lifeguard!reader (bc i’m a lifeguard at a few country clubs) and i think rafe would be drooling and kelce and top would make fun of him and they’d like break all the rules like back flipping off the diving board just to get readers attention

oh my god first of all i completely adore you!! im so glad yess we must be little brain twins <3 i would love to know which parts made you think that! but here is the best i could come up with for a lifeguard au which is soooo cute but imagine.. its a pogue reader...

rafe knows every pretty girl who frequents the country club, he's made a point of making sure he does. so a fresh face in the crowd stands out pretty easily, especially one like yours.

you're pretty without trying, hair tugged behind you in a ponytail and a simple red one piece, the bottoms covered with denim shorts. it's not the usual kind of outfit for the club, but maybe you're headed out by the pool or something.

he can only see you from the back, though when you turn around, he sees the white cross on the front of your swimsuit. then he sees the boy in matching red trunks next to you, the whistle around your necks and a little first-aid box in your hands. a hot life guard, it doesn't get much more stereotypical than that.

you look around the club, following the boy who can only be giving you a tour of the facilty, with curious eyes like you've never been here before. it's only then a comment from top snaps him into a frankly startling realization.

"can't believe they hire pogues for this shit. wouldn't be surprised if shit started going missing by the pool deck."

rafe thinks normally he'd throw another line in, laugh at what top's saying, but he can't find it in him today. so he keeps watching, the sweet way you smile at a little girl who stopped you to ask for a bandaid, the way you nod while taking in something else in your training.

"alright. you've been staring at that pogue girl for twenty minutes. what gives?" kelce asks finally, after rafe ignores what they've been saying to him for the third time.

"huh?" he snaps back, tearing eyes away from you to look at his idiot friends.

"don't tell me you got hots for the lifeguard. what're you, thirteen?" they laugh, but rafe doesn't.

"shut up." he stands, downing the rest of his drink. "m'goin' to the pool. you loser can come and shut up or stay here and yap."

when he finally gets out there, you've shed the shorts, looking over the kiddie section of the pool with a watchful eye, taking the responsibility of watching brats seriously. he doesn't hesitate, jumping into the deep end with a huge splash, one that gets your attention.

you walk over, making sure whoever that was didn't just fall in, when two boys yell over.

"hey! lifeguard! our friend needs help!" you turn to look back at the boy who's been training you, wondering if you should dive in or wait since you're still in training, when you hear them again.

"not him! you! in the red. hurry!" you don't hesitate, though you're confused, jumping straight in and swimming over to the boy. he doesn't look like he needs help, in fact, he looks like he's floating.

"um, excuse me-" that's all you get out when you get close to him, because he scoops you up like he's rescuing you, carrying you out of the pool like a bride. you kick your feet, yelling out. "hey! put me down! you're not even drowning!"

he sets you down, and you wipe your face, staring up at pretty blue eyes and an arrogant face, once you recognize, one that your best friends hate.

"oh. you. i should have known."

"me? yeah, heard about me, have you? only good things, i hope."

"yeah, no. what the fuck was all that? i thought you were drowning."

"yeah, i was. thanks for the help." confused, soaking wet, and not appreciating his two little sidekicks snickering behind you, you try to get away, when rafe follows.

"so, uh, how long you been working here?"

"it's my first day."

"yeah, i thought so. i never forget a pretty face, so-"

"are you serious?"

"dead serious. and yours is definitely pretty."

"rafe," you say, leaning in closer so he can hear you clearly. "stop hitting on me. i have to work. some of us actually have to work."

"know my name already, huh? what else have you heard-" you roll your eyes, he laughs.

"i heard you're a good swimmer," you say, taking another step closer.

"yeah. from who?"

"i don't know. i'm about to find out." with one hand, you push his chest, and he falls backwards into the pool, the water splashing around your feet. you laugh, watching him bob in the pool, his friends laughing too. "good talk. hope we never speak again."

rafe gets out of the pool, pushing his wet hair back. he calls out after you.

"yeah we'll see about that."

#oooo she a snippy girly #its bc she spends all her time with jayjjjjjj #if you wanted something more cutie i can make her the lifeguard in the kids section & rafe brings toddler wheeize #lmk bae #this is actually garbage lmfao itwas a fun exercise tho

[incendiobrock]

Caring For You {Matt Sturniolo}

Summary: fem!reader takes care of bf!Matt when his ankle is still hurting after going to the doctor 🥺

Warnings: FLUFFFFF

A/N: this was supposed to be a quick blurb before work but it turned out longer than i expected hehe

The garage door in the triplets house finally opened, signaling that the boys had made it back home from their trip to urgent care. Matt had been having some ankle pain that you had been begging him to get checked out. Even Nick and Chris were getting worried when the pains still persisted after a couple of months.

The boys laughter filled the once silent house and you were quick to get off the couch and make your way to the staircase. Nick was the first one up, greeting you and heading to the kitchen. Chris followed him closely behind and Matt stayed at the bottom of the stairs for a few extra moments.

"Well? What did they say was wrong with it?" You asked nervously, hoping it wasn't too serious since you didn't see any sort of cast. Matt slowly ascended the stairs towards you, limping lightly because of the pain. When he reached the top he pulled you into a comforting hug, rubbing his hand up and down your back. He knew that you had been really worried about him and just wanted to make sure he was okay.

"She said it was probably tendinitis and that I should just take some advil." Matt said softly, placing a kiss on your forehead and pulling back from the hug. You looked up at him with big doe eyes, concern still written on your face, "What? That's all? They didn't do an x-ray or anything?" Matt shrugged his shoulders, shifting his weight off his hurt ankle and repositioning his hands inside his jean pockets.

"They didn't think it was necessary."

"How about you go sit on the couch so you're not putting weight on it, give it a break while you're home." You suggested, placing a caring hand on Matt's tattooed bicep. He quickly obliged, making his way over to the plush, white sofa, sinking into the pillows. You grabbed a pillow from the opposite end of the couch and brought it over to Matt.

"Baby, what are you doing sweetheart?" He asks as you carefully lift his leg to rest on the L of the couch, placing the pillow beneath his hurt ankle.

"You should probably elevate it at least." You responded before quickly heading towards the kitchen, giving Matt no time to stop you. Matt watched you from over the back of the couch, his tongue wetting his bottom lip unsure of your actions. You rummaged through all the kitchen drawers, desperately trying to find what you needed. Eventually, you scavenged a ziploc bag, a hand towel, and a bottle of advil.

You filled the ziploc bag with ice from the freezer, wrapping it in the hand towel to keep the direct cold from touching your bare skin. Holding all the ingredients, you made your way back over to the couch.

"Here babe, let me take care of you." You pled, carefully placing the ice onto his elevated ankle and handing him the bottle of advil, urging him to take a couple.

He smiled sweetly at you, grateful that he could count on you to take care of him even when he didn't think his health issues were that big of a deal.

"Do you need anything else?" You asked, standing at the edge of the couch, ready to do anything else for the man you loved.

Matt patted the spot next to him, urging you to take a seat. As you got closer to Matt, he held out his hand taking hold of your own and pulling you onto the sofa. When you fully sat down next to him his arm came over your shoulders, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest. He looked down at you as you snuggled into his side, using his free hand to gently push your chin up to look at him.

Matt leaned down, connecting his lips with yours in a meaningful kiss, "I love you, thanks for taking care of me."

#matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic

[2hightocare]

from the vault pt2 🤍 kuwtb au’

1.

"Haul time!" You squeak as you skip to the living room with the big box that you just got delivered a few minutes ago.

"What did you get, baby?" Your husband cranes his neck backward from the couch to catch you doing a happy dance with the big box covering your face. A small chuckle escapes his lips as he watches you make your way to him.

"Let me help you, that looks heavy as shit. Don't want you having back problems," Jungkook begins to stand up, only to be stopped when you drop the gigantic box in front of him on the carpet with a loud breath. "I got it, I'm independent," you click your tongue, dramatically flipping your ponytail to the side.

"Okay, not too much now," Jungkook shakes his head before reaching for your waist and pulling you on top of him in a swift motion. "Hey! I was going to show you my outfits," you giggle, pushing on his face with your left hand as he tries to pepper kisses on your face.

"You can show me later, but for now just let me love you," he mumbles into your collarbone before situating his head in between your boobs. His teeth graze the top of your tube top before trying to pull it down, making you squirm with a laugh-pushing him off.

"You took a long-ass nap, had me staring at the wall— bored, baby," Jungkook pouts, before cracking into a full-on smile. He runs a hand through his hair before putting it behind his head-his eyes trained on your flushed face while your fingers play with the seam of his T-shirt.

"Could've napped with me," you shrug, your fingertips slowly making their way under his shirt, slowly tracing his v-line.

"Yeah?" He smirks, his dimple popping out.

"Yeah. It was a good nap," you giggle before retrieving your hands from under his shirt and getting off his lap, making your way to the box full of clothes you had ordered online a couple of weeks back.

"Baby!" Jungkook whines as he watches you drop to your knees on the gray carpet in front of the box, ignoring him once again.

"Baby," you mock him; he playfully rolls his eyes at you.

Jungkook throws his head back in defeat before joining you on the floor with a happy sigh.

"Okay, gimme your haul, princess," Jungkook leans back onto the couch as he watches you open the box with your acrylics, like you always did. He takes notice of your mismatched socks, smiling to himself-your ass up in the air, as you look into the box, your light purple gym shorts hugging your curves perfectly.

"I got so many clothes it's actually insane," you say to your husband, who's watching you with hooded eyes.

"You still got space, nah?" Jungkook asks, talking about your walk-in closet, tilting his head to catch your eyes.

"Yup, I still have so much space," you pipe happily, opening the first bag. A small short sundress you forgot you had ordered stares back at you.

"That's cute, baby," Jungkook says, bobbing his head approvingly at the white lace sundress you're holding up.

"Cute, right? Should I model?" You wiggle your eyebrows, folding the dress into you. "Oh, for sure. I'll give ratings like that game we played with Jiho on Roblox," Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to remember the name of the game, snapping his fingers as if that's going to help him remember faster.

"Fashion Square?" He raises an eyebrow, the sly smirk on his face making you giggle at his attempt. "Fashion Famous," you correct him, biting your lip.

"Yeah, that," he smirks, with a final snap of his fingers.

"Can't believe the ugliest ones always win— when they’re not even on theme," Jungkook rolls his eyes, making you burst out laughing.

"Sassy Men Apocalypse got to you, Jeon," you tease, clenching your teeth and making a 'tsk' noise. "You are my biggest hater, I'm afraid," Jungkook shrugs before pulling you into him in a quick motion, catching you off guard.

"Baby, what? I'm literally in the 'I Heart Jeon Jungkook' club! And I have a shirt to prove it," you say, straddling him. The pout on your face makes him want to kiss it off.

You lean forward, dropping your head on his chest, looking up at him while he looks down at you.

He gives your left ass cheek a soft squeeze. "Oh, tell me more about this club. How many members are in it?" He taunts playfully.

"Around twenty," you reply nonchalantly, making his eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?" He questions, playing with your belly piercing.

"If all my personalities count, then yeah," you shrug.

2.

“Leave some for me, fatty,” the raven-haired boy says, slapping Namjoon’s wrist when he tries to reach for a piece of chocolate cake that’s sitting in the middle of the counter—you just baked it.

Taehyung snickers. “You look like you’ve had enough cake for a year.”

“The fuck? For your information, I’ll let you know that it takes hours in the gym to look as good as I do,” Namjoon retorts, a dramatic roll of his eyes eliciting a laugh from the petite, curly-haired girl beside him— Ari.

“Hours with your head inside a fridge, that’s for sure,” Eunbi pipes in, inserting a bite of cake into her mouth before reaching for the cold glass of milk that your husband just served and taking a sip with a knowing smirk.

“Crazy,” Namjoon points his fork at everyone who just came at him.

Taehyung’s eyes are filled with amusement as he shrugs and lets out a chuckle. “Can’t take constructive criticism,” Jimin joins in, as you try to hide your laugh behind the fork in front of your mouth while your husband leans on you, his chin on your head, hearing everything.

“He’s not fat, guys, he’s just big-boned,” Jungkook inserts himself into the conversation, which has Namjoon’s head snapping to him. “You did not just call me big-boned,” he gasps, as Eunbi and Taehyung burst out laughing, giving each other high fives like they’re six in second grade.

“I’m trying to defend you!” Your husband raises his hands in defense as Lora shakes her head, digging into the cake, ignoring everyone.

“Yeah, but big-boned is crazy!” Joon gapes at Jungkook, who actually seems confused. “Personally, I wouldn’t let that slide,” Eunbi points her fork between Namjoon and Jungkook, trying to instigate.

“Why you out here being messy for?” Lora jokes, nudging the blonde to the side, making her giggle.

“What I actually meant to say is that you’re buff as fuck and they’re obviously jealous of you,” Jungkook explains before turning his attention to your best friend.

“Damn, blondie. Being my biggest opp even after I bought you the stupid ferret you wanted so much for your birthday,” Jungkook points his index finger at Eunbi, who gasps while chocolate cake is shoved into her mouth.

a/n: here’s some more unfinished works that I want to get rid of, so here’s a lil gift🤍

#ask! kuwtb💌 #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jjk #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jeongguk x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut

[latenightdaydreams]

König x Stepmother!Reader Part 2 (fem)

Here is the requested part two!

Read part one here💘

Master List

MDNI🔞

>cw: fem/afab, cheating, argument, p in v, oral

1.3k word count

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König has you bent over the kitchen island, one leg up, his cock ramming hard into your tight cunt. Your knuckles turning white from gripping the edges of the counter. You bite your lips trying to muffle your own moans. König grunts with each thrust, his hands grasping your ass, fingers digging into your flesh and pulling you back slightly to match his motion.

You simply came downstairs for a midnight snack, but König heard you walking and followed you down stairs. Seeing the erection in his pajama bottoms, you couldn’t just ignore it. Just like he couldn’t ignore the way your hard nipples poked out of your white, almost see through, top.

“Your ass is so fucking nice,” König groans while he slaps you ass hard. His hand leaves a mark and makes the fat on your ass ripple. He loves the sight.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you whimper pathetically.

“Say my name, Kleine Blume.”

“König, this is König’s pussy.” You moan out as he begins to pick up his pace making you pant trying to catch your breath.

You can feel droplets of his sweat falling on you and it’s fucking hot. His hand reaches over and grabs a fistful of your hair and turns your head so he can see you.

“Fucking beautiful,” he whispers before he rolls his eyes back.

His cock is sensitive and your velvety walls hugging him make him want too just cum deep in you now. He pulls out and drops to his knees. He spreads your ass cheeks apart and looks at how his cock has gaped your pussy. He smiles impressed with his own work.

Leaning forward he sticks his fat tongue in your pussy before going down and licking your clit. He buries his face in you, breathing you in and sucking on your clit. One hand on your leg that is bent on the counter to keep it up. His cock leaks precum, balls tightening as he hears your muffled moans.

“Please fuck me, König.” You beg.

“I’ll cum Liebling.” He goes back to burying his face in your pussy. He moves up to your asshole, tight and untouched. He flicks his tongue over it as he grasps your ass cheeks now.

“I don’t care, please just fuck me.”

König can’t deny you so he stands back up and slaps his cock on your ass cheeks, “Turn on your back.”

You turn and lay with your legs open. König grabs your hips and pulls you down towards him. He lines his cock up with your entrance before slowly pushing back in at first. A soft moan escaping your lips as you feel him stretch you out. You’ve become addicted to his cock the last few days. He puts your legs together and hold them with one arm.

“Oh, fuck yes.” You moan as he begins to thrust quickly into you.

His eyes glues to your breasts bouncing with his movement, he reaches out with one hand and squeezes one of your breasts. A low moan escapes his lips. He can’t hold on and longer. He picks up and pace until he finally cums deep inside of your pussy. He closes his eyes and squeezes your breast tightly.

He thrust a few more times before carefully pulling out. He picks his boxers and pajama bottoms back up. He lifts you off the counter and on to the floor. You grab your panties and pajama shorts.

“We should get back to bed…” You say looking up at König with lovey eyes.

He smiles down at you and brushes hair behind your ear. He leans down and kisses your lips; you taste yourself on his lips.

“Yeah, we should. I’ll let you go up first.” König whispers, breaking the kiss.

You turn and walk upstairs. You adjust yourself as you walk, getting to your bedroom door. Opening it up, you see Felix sitting up, stroking his erect cock. You close the door and look shocked. The shock hiding the worry that he heard König fucking you.

“You’re up?” You look at his cock, not nearly as big as König’s.

“I am, I was waiting for you to come back from the bathroom.” Felix pats the bed.

You smile, feeling sort of disgusted, but you walk to the bed. Felix turns on the bedside lamp as you crawl on to the bed.

“Take your clothes off.” He says as he moves to fully pull off his bottoms.

“I haven’t showered today,” you lie trying to get out of this. You just fucked König after all.

“I don’t mind a little stink.” Felix chucked.

You smile awkwardly and begin to take off your shirt followed by your pajama bottoms. You look at Felix’s nude body, covered in white body hair. You lay down and he moves over, latching on to your breast as if he were a starved infant. His hand moving down to your already wet pussy.

“Looks like you’re already ready for me, were you thinking about fucking me?”

“Yes,” you lie again.

“Good girl,” he moves to position himself in between your legs.

You spread your legs open for him and he strokes his cock before slapping it against your pussy, sore from the pounding König gave you. Felix stops and just looks at your pussy. You look up at the ceiling thinking he is about to push himself in, but he doesn’t. Silence.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and look at Felix. His blue eyes, like König’s, are just glued to your pussy still. His erection is slowly going away and his face looks confused.

“Felix?”

He slowly meets your gaze, “What is this?”

He points to your vagina and you just look at him. You doesn’t say anything. You don’t even know what to say if you did. You’ve been caught. Your heart sinks into your stomach as you feel a hot wave of anxiety flush over your body.

“What is what?” You swallow hard.

“Cum. You have cum in your vagina.” His eyes finally meet yours as you sit up and close your legs. “ARE YOU FUCKING MY SON?!” Felix explodes in a furry, his voice booming through the house.

A yell that triggers König, who is currently sitting in his room. He quickly stands and makes his way towards your bedroom to make sure you’re okay.

“Du bist eine Hure!” Felix shouts at you.

He gets off the bed and pulls his bottoms back on. Before you can move the door opens and König is standing there, shirtless, with a pissed off look on his face.

“Watch how you talk to her.” König’s voice deep and demanding.

Felix quickly turned to König. A look of disgust and rage on his face, a look König has been used to seeing since he was a young child. Except now he towers over his dad and doesn’t fear him.

“You’ve been fucking my wife?!” Felix shouts, his voice a mix of rage and heart break.

 “Yes, since the first night I got here.” König snaps back.

Felix turns to look at you with his jaw dropped. He turns back to König and looks as if he wanted to kill him, but knew he couldn’t do anything but stand there. König feels no remorse for what has happened. You’re his now.

“You- you’re just like your mother, fucking useless and pathetic!” Felix barks in anger. “I never even wanted you.”

König doesn’t react, just looking down at his dad. He turns his gaze to you, naked on the bed. He walks past Felix and to you, he puts his hand out.

“Come with me.” König speaks in a soft calm tone.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Felix snaps, frozen in place knowing his son could end him.

You look past König at Felix, then back to König. His blue eyes soft and he nods his head.

“It’s okay. I can take care of you.” König reassures you. With him you aren’t losing anything. He can buy you everything you’re leaving behind. He could love you better than Felix. He already fucks you better.

“Y/n, don’t.” Felix realizes you’re truly about to leave him.

You gently place your hand in König’s big hand. A small smile spreads across his lips.

.

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Tags: @nachofriess, @mariapallett

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig smut #konig smut #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #könig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader smut #könig x reader smut #könig x you #könig x y/n

[alastor-simp]

Enchanting Lullaby - Insomniac Alastor x Sea Siren Reader

❥Summary: Everyone in the hotel knows that Alastor does not sleep, but what happens when he seeks you out and makes a request only you can provide for him.

❥Tags: Alastor x reader, sea siren, siren reader, insomniac, insomniac alastor, alastor does not sleep, fem reader

❥Notes: I am OBSESSED with siren songs. I find them so hypnotic and beautiful, so I wanted to write a story with a siren reader with Alastor. Wanted to give a shoutout to my friend ValerieWinks777 for helping me with this story. I recommend checking her out on Wattpad, she does amazing Alastor x reader stories.

Spending years in hell, forming unbreakable deals and ripping apart demons in his broadcasts have harden Alastor to put aside certain feelings and tasks, including sleep. Well, he used to sleep during the time when he was alive, honestly he is surprised he even could after all the horrible murders he committed. He didn't just decide one day that he wasn't going to slumber anymore, this change started slowly. Indulging gleefully in the wrath he enjoyed created new enemies, enemies he knew posed no threat, but the longer that list got, the less often he slept, as he rather stay awake and attack them head on if any of them even considered wanting to mess with the radio demon.

A couple days after the extermination war and rebuilding the hotel, it had gotten surprisingly more busy with new demons arriving to gander at the hotel, and possibly consider joining. Charlie had been working like a mad women, tending to make sure everything was perfect for the guests and also trying to lessen some of the workload on the others. She greatly appreciate everything that happened before, so she didn't want them lifting a finger with anything. Alastor, however, was not one to just stand there and not offer his assistance. He may still consider the hotel a bunch of wack-a-doo nonsense, but he has grown fond of Charlie and her beliefs, also considering how much of a gentleman he was, he wasn't going to let poor Charlie do everything herself. Charlie waved her hands in the air, saying profusely that it was okay and Alastor didn't need to help, but Alastor was persistent. "Ah ah ah. Charlie, my dear. As the facility manager of the hotel, it is substantial for me to offer my assistance. Now then! What humble tasks need to be dealt with?" Alastor said with a smile, as he bent down, putting his face closer to Charlie's. Charlie gave a sigh and small smile back to Alastor and told him of the assignments that needed to be done for today.

Alastor went about and began completing each task, stockpiling the drinks for the bar, making sure the rooms were all spick and span, obtain groceries for the kitchen and also prepare dinner for later tonight. Alastor had finally reach the end of the tasks and softly heaved a sigh. Performing small things like this was nothing to him, as he preferred to finish the job quickly and properly and not dwindle on it, but he had used a great amount of his powers to fulfill each one of them, causing him to feel more drained then usual. Alastor, for the first time, felt the need to take a good due rest, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy since it has been a millennium since he last slept. Pondering through his thoughts, he came up with an idea that could help him, as he made his way upstairs.

Knocking on your door, Alastor patiently waited, as the door to your room opened, with you standing on the other side of it, wearing your cozy pajamas. You looked up at Alastor with a smile, head tilted to the side. "Oh good evening, Al. Is there something you needed?" Alastor smiled down at you, showcasing more of his teeth. "Yes, my dear! I have encountered a bit of a dilemma and I need your assistance with the matter. Would it be alright if you could come to my chambers?" He observed your eyes glaze with confusion before you nodded your head, and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. Alastor had hooked his arm with yours, as the both of you walked towards his hotel room.

Upon entering his room, you glanced around his room, admiring the pocket dimension he had created. It gave a calm tranquil vibe in the room, along with the static music playing from the radio in his room. Al had said nothing when the both of you had entered his chambers, and you wondered if he was displeased with something. "Um.... Am I in trouble?" You question him, twiddling your fingers together. Alastor quickly turned back around to face you, eyes widen before going back to normal, while a soft smile was placed on his face. "Heavens no! You are no form of trouble my dear, I can assure you. There is just something I need from you however." He walk closer into his room, removing his coat jacket and setting it on the chair next to his desk, revealing his red striped shirt that was hidden. He ventured closer to his bed, removing his black shoes before taking a seat on it while crossing his legs. His eyes went back up to look at you, extending his hand out, inviting you to join him.

Your face flushed for a bit, as you made your way over to where Alastor resided, taking a seat on his bed, facing him. The both of you sat in silence, before Alastor broke it. "If my memory serves me correctly, your demon form is similar to that of a sea siren. Am I correct, my dear?" He turned to face you, peering down at you while you looked at him. Your answer to his question was a small nod. "Splendid! That will be quite useful for me!" Alastor seemed almost giddy with joy, making you feel a bit confused. "Can I ask a question?" You asked Alastor. Alastor continued to stare at you, telling you to go ahead. "Why is my nature going to be beneficial for you?" Alastor eyes gazed into yours, as they were filled with confusion. Heaving a sigh, Alastor slowly grabbed your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "As much as it pains me to say this, but I need your help, darling. I am aware of the soothing hypnotic voices of sirens, how there gorgeous songs allure sailors. I am asking you if you could sing for me, my dear." Alastor smile almost dropped a bit, his face holding a slight melancholic look as he continued to stare at you. You continued to look at him, before you asked him why you needed to sing to him.

Alastor heaved another sigh, rubbing his hair with his other hand. "It has been a drastically long time, since I have enjoyed the comforts of my own bed. However, falling asleep has not been an easy task for me, and along with the chores that I have completed for sweet Charlie. I crave a good rest now more then ever." Upon observing his face, you noticed the dark circles that appeared underneath his eyes. His smile as well seemed a bit forced, almost as if he was having a hard time keeping it up. Your heart ached for him, as you placed you squeezed his hand that was still holding yours. "I will help you Alastor, but there is something you have to do for me." Alastor raised an eyebrow at you, asking what it was that you needed. "Well, could you use your powers to soundproof the room? My siren voice may reach the others, and cause them to fall asleep as well." SNAP! Within an instant, Alastor had snapped his fingers, preventing any sound from reaching out the room.

With a nod of your head, you moved further back on the bed, waiting to make room for your transformation. A dark light enveloped your form, as your body became covered in black and white scales, and your legs had morphed together into a long mermaid tail, causing your pajama pants to slide off. Alastor continued to gaze at you in amazement, finding your form truly haunting while incredibly beautiful. Once you had completed your transformation, you leaned back against the pillow, raising both your hands up towards Alastor. Alastor stood stiff, confused at your actions. "Come here." you said, keeping your arms stretched out. Alastor realized what you meant, his cheeks become a tad flushed. "M-my dear, there is no need-" His words were cut off, as you pulled him down. His head had landed on your chest, as his whole body was placed on top of you, with his legs rested on your lower tail. Your arms wrapped around him, placing one against his hair, giving it a rub. "Shh its alright Alastor. I just want you to be comfortable okay?" Alastor hadn't moved when he was on top of you, apparently not use to actions like this. His body soon began to relax, as he nuzzled closer into your chest, moving his arms to wrap them around your back. His actions caused a soft smile to appear on your face, as you continued to play with his hair. "I'm going to start singing now, are you ready?" You looked down, waiting for his answer. Alastor peaked one of his eyes out from your chest, giving you a small nod. Giggling at his cuteness, you moved the hand from his hand to rub at his cheek, before placing it back on his red locks.

Taking a few deep breaths, you leaned your head back against the pillow. Soon, you opened your mouth, and began to sing.

(THIS SONG IS SO SOOTHING, I LOVE IT!!)

𝄞 Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eye as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwell, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair

And I have left my parents and three thousands pounds a year

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea

While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold 𝄞

Your beautiful song had ended, leaving the room in a calming silence. Looking down, you motioned your head to look at Alastor. His head was still nuzzled on your chest, the one eye that had peaked to look at you had closed. His breathing was slowed and he was letting out small static-like snores and a few purrs. Smiling warmly, you leaned closer to his head, giving it a soft kiss. Your hand left his head, and began to reach for the blanket nearby on the bed, motioning it to have it lay over both you and Alastor. You placed your hand back on his hair, giving it a comforting rub, as you leaned back against the pillow, whispering, "Good night Alastor."

Tag List:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #sea siren #siren #sleeping with sirens #siren song #ASMR #my jolly sailor bold #insominac #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor x siren reader #x reader #Youtube #youtube music #pirates of the caribbean #mermaid song #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon x reader #alastor the radio demon #sea siren reader #sea creatures #hazbin hotel fanfiction #new fanfic #fanfiction #insomniac alastor #soft alastor #alastor hazbin #alastor

[hidtired]

Hangman [Part 3]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But how is he coping when you open the door to his cell as his savior.

2.3k words

Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Daryl POV

The rattle of a door knob brought him out of thought. When the door didn’t open he thought he imagined it. Maybe he was losing more of a grip on reality. The sleep deprivation wasn’t helping, or the grief. He still heard noises that he imagined. Like the yelp you made when you dropped to the ground and the noose tugged at you. He sat back resting facing the door. The pulsating pain in is eye from being punched. He went to rub at it when a small knock tapped against the door.

He released a sigh, ‘I am losing it.’ Then the rattling of the lock made him tense. He didn’t think he was in there for more than a hour after Negan left to take Carl back to Alexandria? The clicking of pins suggesting it wasn’t from a key. The soft click of the lock releasing made a shiver run up his spine. He cautiously stare at the door creeping open. The light hit his eyes disrupting his view to who it was. The person didn’t speak when they fell to their knees in shock. He got the glimpse of a knife being put to the floor. When they slowly crawled over and gently cupped his face he couldn’t help but stare up and see your face.

He at that moment declared himself crazy. The guilt building in him again, “It’s all my fault… god I love you.” He rose his hand to your face, not wanting this to go away, he didn’t make contact with you just to see you disappear. Then you leaned into his hand. His mouth opened and his heart dropped. He got closer leaning toward you for confirmation he wasn’t crazy. You hadn’t said a word. He looked down to your neck hand slowly tracing down to it. The moment you flinched was like proof of your existence. He released a breath that had caught in his lungs at the original sight of you.

“Y/N?”

His eyes roaming across your face again. You lean down and pecked his lips. He felt like a burst of life just ran back into him. That quick kiss sending him back to life. You started to tug at his arms trying to get him to stand. He took the hint standing. You had made a quick look out the door but he had wrapped his arms around you. The feeling of you relaxing and thumping your head into his chest damn near broke his fragile mental state. The moment was quick with you pulling away and getting something from your pocket and showing it to him. It was the key to his bike. That's when another realization hit him.

‘You came to get him out of here?’

He grabbed the key from your hand staring at it. You were getting him out of here. A switch flipped in him after the shock of seeing you. It was a later thing to talk, they needed out of here first. He grabbed your hand and nodding to you. You smile at him while he walks past to check the hall. Looking back and forth seeing it clear he looked back at you and off you both went to freedom. The door he remembered where his bike was cracked open. Must have been where you got in. He smiled at the thought, ‘Smart girl.’

Pushing the door open crouched he scan the area. Seemed empty? He pulled you along with him to the bike. Letting go of your hand and trying to open the gate as quickly as he could.

“What the hell!”

The surprised voice made him turn. Fat Joey is what they called him. He had his eyes on you looking mortified, then landed on him. A burning feeling set under his skin as he stomped in raged at him. “Woah! L-look man I didn’t see anything!” His eyes scanned from him to you. The first punch Daryl landed sent his sandwich flying to the ground. Through his rage while he beat the man he remembered you were behind him. He stopped fist mid air and turned back to see you staring. Straight faced eyes looking down at the man then back to him. Fat Joey groaned, but Daryl’s eyes were still locked with you. You dragged a finger slowly across your purple and black neck, ‘kill him.’ He did just that. His jumpsuit now splattered with some of Joeys blood as he took the key and approached the bike.

The rumble of it under him then your presence behind him felt like a dream. You had looped your arms under his and he took off getting them out of there. His hands shook with nerves and adrenaline. He was becoming overwhelmed. The taps to his middle from you made him look in his side mirror. They had been driving for almost 40 minutes a ways away from the saviors. You gestured to pull over so he did. He felt on the verge of a panic attack.

The sound of his skin releasing from his tight hold to the handle bars seemed loud to him. His ears rang when your hand went to his shoulder and you leaned over face filling his vision. He doesn’t even feel you get up. Was this real? You rubbed up and down his arm. ‘Ya, this is real.’ His knees shake as he stood getting off the bike. He looks up at you after having his gaze glued to the floor. The guilt was seeping back through. Tears were in your eyes when he met them. A wobble to your lips, something he knew was you trying to not cry.

“I’m so sorry-“

You jumped wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His arms moving to catch you. His hand digging into your hair, a slight sway as in their embrace. He broke down, tears running down and a small hiccup coming out of him. Despite everything he thought he deserved you were still loving him. The unconditional love you gave broke his heart, “I almost killed you- I thought I killed you.” His cry’s grew deeper. You pulled away looking at him at his words. You shook your head. You jabbed a finger in his chest and tapped there. You shook your expressing a hard no. You pointed back down the road with a serious face.

He gulped at your conviction on the matter. He looked at you like you were the world and you caught the broken expression from him. Giving a smile and kiss for emphasis. He inhaled and exhaled, the fighter flight feeling he has had the whole time gone within your touch. His eyes moving back to your neck, “Are ya alright?” You hesitated before nodding. He met your eyes, “You can’t talk?” Bitting your lip you looked away from him shaking your head.

Daryl released you from his hold. Your feet landing on the ground but you continued to look at him. Up and down, probably taking notice of the clothes he wore. He felt ashamed at the thought of the stupid ‘A’ shirt he had on. You pulled off the large hoodie you had stolen from Jesus. You grabbed the end of his shirt and lightly tugged at it. His teeth clenched he reluctantly took it off. He watched your face turn into a frown. He still had a bandage on his shoulder where he was shot, also a few more bruises and scraps. He slowly took the hoodie from you and slipped it on. You both stood looking at each other. Your eyes saying you had a million of things to say. He broke the silence.

“M’ body is burning with the shame of not belonging…”

Your POV

You closed your eyes and inhaled. This isn’t the first time he has been this far stuck in his mind with guilt. He had it with anything that has ever gone wrong. Like he could somehow tell the future and it was his job to prevent every bad thing. Any death, any injury. Blaming himself for Beth, the prison falling, and now this. You open your eyes and look to his face. Slowly shaking your head as you walk away, going to sit back down on the bike. He still stood staring at you so you tap the spot in front of you. He moved shoving the corner of his thumb into his mouth. A nervous habit that you think he got as a kid.

You saw the small tremor left in his hands. Leaning into him and resting your head between his shoulders, arms pulling around him. Your fingers softly scratching at his mid section as you continued your ride to Hilltop. Hoping to provide him with as much comfort without words.

The sun was setting when reaching the gates of Hilltop. The door pulled open revealing Glenn, Maggie, and Enid. Daryl parked as soon as he got through the gate. Glenn was the one to jog over first, “You actually got him!” Glenn pulling Daryl in a quick hug. Maggie made her way not a second later, she look a little mad, “You idiot how could you just run off like that! Without even saying something before going!” It was apparent in your recover at Hilltop that not only you were traumatized. Someone would often check on you confirming to themself you were ok.

Maggie especially did it at night. Everyone had grown an attachment to you after that day, constant dread you would just drop dead. It was Glenn who spoke on your behalf, “She did leave a note.” You nodded and pointed at Glenn with agreement. Then pointing the attention at Daryl with a ‘look see I did what I said’ look. Maggie while finished yelling at you turning to hug Daryl, “Thank god you both are ok.” Daryl was still to wired into the things he had experienced to be any other way then awkward. You festered for everyone to go for a minute waving them off and dragging Daryl to the medical trailer. It was Glenn who remarked while you walked away, “She can’t even talk but still bossing us around.”

Dr. Carter seemed surprised to see you but you just pointed at Daryl. When he was done treating Daryl he move back over to you. You had originally tried to wave him off but Daryl spoke with a calm voice, “Please? So I know you are ok.” How could you say no to that? There was this terrible cream that smelt like a hospital he would put on a bandage and around your neck. He knew you hated it not liking things around your neck. “I’m also wanting you to crush and dissolve some vitamins into your food. A soup should do but remember it can’t be hot." Your lips were pursed in displeasure. A hand slide rubbing your back. Looking up you met Daryl’s eyes.

You both walk out the door not before finally getting a pen and paper back. “Do you want to shower and get a change of clothes?” Daryl looked like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. The clothes not looking to comfortable and the grime on his skin. He nodded looking at the paper, “Ya I’ll do that.” He looked at you and the house but he couldn’t seem to walk away from you. You wrote again, “I can sit outside the door?” He shook his head, “Nah I got it, go try and eat beautiful.” You smile at the familiar nickname. He said it first teasingly after watching Glenn and Maggie being cheesy, however now he couldn’t seem to stop. You pointed to a trailer slowly walking backwards to it.

You and Daryl now lay facing each other in bed. You grabbed his hand tracing ‘I <3 U’. His hand closing around yours. “I love you too, there is no me in your absence.” He pushed a hair behind your ear, “least not one I liked.” You moved his hand to your chest, proof you heart still beat. The cling of metal of your rings hitting each other. You smile and wrote down, “Guess I can’t go anywhere then.”

You upheld this promise throughout the entirety of the war. Not even a half a day later came when Rick came to Hilltop looking for aid. He was happy to see you. Carl and Michonne gushing over you. Then when Daryl rounded the corner you could see everyone relieved again. You wrote,

“All happy to see a Dixon.”

You didn’t have much of a roll in the war. The only major thing was when the trash people betrayed them. It was the first time Negan saw you again. His eyes were on Daryl before turning to you. “Well shit you’re supposed to be dead. Guess your witch trail proved your one.” He looked back to Daryl before saying, “What should we do next? Drown her in the river?”

He was locked away now though. Rotting in a jail cell. You had disagreed heavily with Rick’s decision keeping him alive. He gave you nightmares. But after a while Rick suggested you seeing how what he was going through was worse than death. You had gained back the ability to eat. You still were working on talking. Now there you are standing in front of Negan. Pen and paper in hand. He expected you to kill him, even pleaded with you to do so. Rick had been right. You wrote something on the paper and stared back to Negan.

Negan tried taunting as always, “What? Cat got your tongue?” He was smug but you pulled his attention to the sheet of paper. You crumpled it in your hands. You threw the balled up paper through the bars of his cell. Staring at it before walking out the door. Negan scoffed going to unravel your message.

“Welcome to Hell.”

The End.

Feedback welcomed and requests always opened!

#daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd daryl #angst #fluff

[bad268]

maybe a story where kimis gf (reader) has curly hair and she does her curly hair routine on kimi. love your writing!! 💓

Curl TLC (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Curly Hair! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Thank you <3 and as someone with curly hair, I had too much fun with this)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1332

Summary: Kimi needed some help with his curls.

Join my 1K Celly

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It was something you always noticed. Kimi’s hair was always unruly after a race, but after being with him for almost a year, you noticed the little things. His curls used to be so well-formed and clean, but now, it’s like he was losing his curl pattern. And given that you also had curly hair, you decided to teach him your tricks during an off weekend. 

“I don’t see why this is important,” He complained as soon as you started rinsing his hair. “This seems like a lot.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” You laughed as you made sure none of the water got in his eyes. “This is just water.”

“But the number of things you have is concerning,” He replied as he glanced over at the three bottles and diffuser on the counter.

“That’s nothing,” You dismissed as you grabbed the shampoo specifically for curly hair. “Now, this is my shampoo. The first time I do it-”

“You’re gonna do it more than once?” Kimi cut you off as he tried to sit down, but you put your hand on his shoulder to sit him back down in front of the sink. 

“Yes, the first time, I’ll give you a head massage. It helps get all the dead skin off your scalp and It’s just really relaxing,” You explained as you applied the shampoo to his roots. As you began working it through his hair. You knew better than to explain your process when you were scratching his scalp because you knew he would not be listening. As soon as you started, his eyes shut and that was game over. After a few minutes, you turned the water back on to rinse it. Maybe, you let a little splash onto Kimi’s face, causing his eyes to snap open and look up at you. “The first shampoo is to get everything off your scalp. The second one is to get all the dead skin out of your hair.”

“That sounds gross,” Kimi cringed as he settled back into his seat. “It’s just two, right?”

“Two shampoos, yes,” You answered as you started with the second shampoo treatment. “Then, we’ll condition once and put curl cream in your hair. I’ll show you how to form your curls, and then I’ll help you dry your hair with a diffuser.”

“What even is that?” He asked confused as you turned the water off to let the conditioner sit.

“I don’t know how to describe it,” You laughed as you sat on his lap to pass the time. Kimi immediately tried to bring his hands to his hair, but you grabbed them and held them to his side. “No, don’t touch it! Leave it alone!”

“That’s not fair!” He complained but leaned into you to kiss you. 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” You dragged out as you pulled away and leaned your forehead against his. You felt his arms trying to pull themselves from your hold, so you adjusted your grip, “And it’s not going to work.”

“How long do I need to leave this in? It itches,” Kimi complained with no real heat behind his words. It did not really itch, but it was a different formula than he was used to. The texture was just weird to him, and he wanted it off.

“A few more minutes,” You said as you looked at his hair. The curls were starting to form back on their own, so that was going to make your job easier later on. “If it’s really bugging you, I can rinse it now and we can move on to the cream and diffusing.”

“Please?” He asked he gave you puppy eyes. He knew you could never say no to him then.

“Fine,” You sighed in mock offense as you stood up and walked around to stand at his side to wash the conditioner out. “I just don’t think you’re used to it, bu don’t worry. You’ll learn to love it.”

“That sounds threatening,” Kimi laughed as he closed his eyes when you turned the water back on.

“Take it how you wish,” You joked as you finished rinsing his hair. You grabbed a towel after turning the water off and gently dried his hair a bit. “Here, stand in front of the mirror and I’ll show you how to define your curls.”

“I never knew it was this complicated,” Kimi groaned as he stood up and stood beside you. You removed the towel and inspected the natural curls he had already formed. You were just planning on working with what he had. They were fairly spaced out right and they were already semi-formed. They just needed a little cleaning up, and that’s exactly what the curl cream would do. “What is that?”

“Curl cream,” You said simply as you put a little on your fingers and started to run it through a section of his hair. “It’s going to help your curls hold their shape and be less frizzy.”

“Is it going to make them hard?” Kimi complained as he watched you through the mirror.

“First off, that’s what she said,” You giggle as you move on to the next section. Kimi laughed a little, but he gently slapped your arm in response. “Secondly, no. It’s not. All it does is help them hold. They’ll still be soft. You’ve never noticed my hair being crunchy.”

“Oh, good,” Kimi said to himself. He watched you for a minute before asking, “What are you doing now?”

“I’m using my fingers to wrap your curls, so they will be more defined,” You explained, slowing down to show him. “Look. I take this piece of hair, wrap it around my finger, and then gently, keynote on gently, twirl it off. You try.” He tried it. Did it look perfect? No. Would it work for now? Yes. He’s learning, but it's a good start. “That looks good! You’ll get better, I promise.”

“As long as you’re here to help,” He sighed. “It’s a lot of work.”

“You don’t always have to do all of this,” You explained. “Some days, just washing with shampoo and conditioner works just fine. Your curls just needed some TLC today, so we did the whole nine yards, but normally, I would not do the curl cream or diffusing. Only when I’m feeling extra.”

“Oh, good to know,” Kimi trailed off as you finished off forming his curls and moved to grab the diffuser. “This is next, right?”

“Yes! If you want, I can show you how to do it, then let you. Or I can just do it,” You offered, but he immediately handed you the dryer. You chuckled at his eagerness to get rid of the object but started to blow dry his hair. “Flip your head down.”

“I feel like this is unnecessary,” He grumbled but did so without question. You did not listen to him as you just laughed to yourself and moved on with blow-drying his hair. “Why is it so cold?”

“It’s cold to start with, but I’ll warm it up as we finish up,” You replied. “Heat ruins your hair, so even though we’re blow-drying your hair, it’s going to be cool air.”

“I don’t like it,” He groaned as he tried to lean away from the cool air.

“Well, lucky for you, you don’t have a lot of hair, so you're basically done,” You said as you ran your hand through a couple of strands without separating them, and you noticed they were completely done. You decided to explain the rules as you started putting everything away. “Don’t brush it, don't run your hands through it, and do not put a helmet on for a while. In a way, it’s a good thing you don’t have a race for a couple of weeks.” 

“About that,” Kimi trailed off, causing your face to drop immediately, “I was gonna go karting tomorrow.”

“You better not! I worked hard to make those curls!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

#andrea kimi antonelli x reader #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli #kimi x reader #prema team #mercedes amg petronas #formula 1 x reader #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 #formula 1 #formula 2 imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 #f2 #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #f2 x you #f2 imagine #f2 fanfic #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

[hecateslore]

☆💋

pt.1, pt.2 and pt.3 are all here! (asks are open.)

Melting played softly in the background while you put your lashes on, blinking and looking at yourself in the mirror once you finished. You phone rang, you grabbed your remote lowering the tv's volume, answering it, "Yes," You said sweetly, "I"m down the street."

You stood up, checking your window to catch a glimpse of him on his bike. "Where's the bike?" You asked biting your nail, "In the shop, It had some problems." He said, "Forgot what it's like to drive. " He let out a breathy laugh. "I bet... So do you think you can stay this weekend?" You change the subject, not really in the mood to listen about all his bike drama.

"Yeah, I have to leave for a couple on Saturday, But then I should be good." He said. You were still looking out of the window, you could see him pulling into the complex, You hummed in acknowledgement, "I'll leave the door open for you, I need to finish my makeup and then get dressed." You hang up the phone, cutting him off like you normally do.

"Here." Simon shouted from your front door, he looked around your apartment noticing how spotless it was. Simon walked down the hall to your room, catching a glance of you lining your lips in your robe. "Creep." You mumbled watching Simon from the mirror. He chuckled and walked towards you, standing behind watching your do your last touches, You lifted your head back to look at him. Simon bent his head down, catching your lips in a kiss.

"You're still not done?" His hands rubbed your shoulders while you look up at him, "I need to change." You stared at him, "You have gloss on your lips." You sat back up.

He shrugged cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. You got dressed fixing your gloss and lip liner one more time before hitting the road with Simon. "So where are we going today?" You said from the passenger seat, "I got to make a couple of stops, then we can decide." He looked at you, You nodded.

You both pulled up in a building lot, majority of the buildings were empty, Price and Johnny outside, holding a black duffel bags and plastic bags wrapped shut with a rubber band. Johnny waved at you and you waved back, "I'll be right back," Simon pecked your cheek before getting out and talking to the men.

A couple of words exchanged before he came back in the car, "DO you want to get some food?" He asked casually, "That's fine." You mumbled, "What's wrong?" He sighed, noting your mood change, "Nothing, I'm fine." You faked a grin. Simon narrowed his eyes, before leaning in for a kiss, "Stop pouting." He popped your lip with his finger. "My lips," You swatted his hand, immediately going to check the mirror.

-

"Don't drop that one." You warned Simon who was holding what look like hundreds of bags filled with clothes, shoes, jewelry and random things for your house. You walked up the stairs carefully trying not to drop anything. "Let me unlock the door." You said aloud, mostly to your self. "Okay," You said quietly while opening the door. You went back to get the rest of your things.

Simon chuckled at the sight of all the boxes and bags that sat on the living room floor. "I'm gonna put all this away," You happily grabbed some bags taking them to your room.

Simon watched you walk off debating whether or not to hide one of the bags around your house for the moment. He bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "What are you doing?" You asked looking at Simon who was still standing in the middle of the room, "Was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?" You bent down to grab the last bags of clothes. "Stuff." He mumbled, "Yeah sure." You rolled your eyes, going back to your room. "Do you have to work tonight?" Simon yelled from where he was standing. "No, I took the weekend off." You yelled back.

Simon sighed, trying to figure out where he was going to store the bags, Somewhere you wouldn't notice, and how was he going to sneak them in without you knowing.

"You're still standing there?" You giggled, snapping him out of thought. "Is something wrong?" You cock a brow, "No, no." He shook his head. "I'm gonna get out of these clothes, when I come back don't be stone." You joked, Simon forced out a chuckle, that you obviously knew was a fake.

-

You laid on the couch Simon between your legs while you hum along to Barbara Streisand sing My Man.

oh my man, I love him so he'll never know

"How many times have you watched this?" He mumbled, voice muffled by your boobs. "Way too many." Your eyes never pulled away from the screen.

Oh, my life is just despair but I don't care

"Why's she crying?" He asked, "Simon shush." You placed you hand over his mouth. "I love this part." You mumble, "Why?" Simon whined. "Because I love this song," Simon rolled his eyes. "You just don't understand the lyricism." You pulled his hair, earning a quiet ow from him, "The lyrics are cheesy." He complained.

"It's because you've never been in love that way," You explain, "You're just shallow." You finished, Simon got up, "I'm not shallow." He said offended, "I wasn't trying to be mean," You chuckled, "but guys don't get it like women do."

"Sure. " He rolled his eyes, sitting back on the couch. "Here we go." You snorted, pausing the movie. "So now what?" You sit with your arms crossed, "Finish your movie." He says grabbing his phone. "You don't want to," You move closer to him, putting your legs over his thighs. "So when are you going tomorrow, so I can tell my other boyfriend to come over." You laughed.

"You wish you had another boyfriend." Simon teased, "I do, that way what you don't do, he will." You jested in return. "Ha, ha." Simon laughed sarcastically.

-

When you fell asleep Simon waited until you were deep in it, waiting for the perfect moment for him to go down stairs to grab the bags. He grabbed both of them, taking one out on your patio and hiding it in your gardening box, under all of your extra cleaning supplies. Hiding the other behind your washer and dryer.

He slipped back in bed laying next to you, "Why're you up?" You asked groggily, "I went to the bathroom." He assured you, "You smell like outside." You said mid-sleep. "I was on the patio taking a call." He lied. "Oh." You yawned. Simon kissed you forehead as you wondered back to sleep. Crossing his fingers hoping you don't find any of the bags these coming weeks.

#biker!simon #baddie!reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x you #simon riley headcanons #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 11

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

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

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

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

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: friday, my day, am i right?

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You turn your legs over the bench, feet dangling over the floor as you look at the king, dumbfounded and dozy. He sits in the chair by the table, toying with a grab between his fingers as he watches you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your breath licks like flames in your lungs. You daren’t ask it aloud but what is he doing there? 

“I only meant to look in upon you,” King Geralt says as if he can hear your thoughts. “I fathomed the night was long tending to my wife and I would make sure you are well-rested.” 

“Your highness,” you stand and smooth the front of your shift, realising you wear nothing more. No dress, no apron. You feel vulnerable to his golden eyes as they follow your hands. The fabric pulls taut on your chest before you can right yourself. “I... Apologies, I am unkempt.” 

You search around and go to take your cap from where you hung it. You cover your shorn locks and tie it tight above your nape. The king’s eyes narrow at you. 

“What is the purpose of keeping your hair short?” He wonders as he drops the grape back to the plate. 

You look at him, shuddering, “I do not... it is only as I’ve been bid, your highness. In Debray, all the maids do so.” 

“You are not in Debray now,” he muses. 

You’re quiet. You’re not sure how to answer that. You gulp and grab the clean dress from the pile and throw it over your head. It hangs loose, not like Jazlene’s carefully cut and laced gowns. You reach for your apron and the king clears his throat. You stop and look at him. 

“Your highness?” You blink, still dazed by his unexpected appearance. 

“I did go to see the lady of Debray,” he intones, “she was in a poor state. She would not permit me in her chambers for her condition.” 

“Oh my, your highness, I am sorry to hear. Shall I go look in--” 

“She has maids a plenty,” he insists, “I hoped...” he leans forward and reaches to his belt. You notice the top of his slate grey tunic is untied and shows the trim of his chest hair, “to share a pastime with her. I hoped perhaps we might see past our differences at last and start our progress towards the kingdom. Alas, despite my warnings, she overindulged and has left herself incapacitated.” 

You stare at him, clutching the apron. He flicks his fingers dismissively as his other hand brings forth a pouch, “leave that. Come, sit.” 

You can only obey. You put the apron down and cross the chamber. As you near the table, he pushes the tray of dishes out of the way. You lower yourself onto a stool as he opens the mouth of the pouch. He pours out the rattling contents. Carved diced in varying shapes, symbols painted on each side, and man longer pieces that look like bone. 

“It is a game,” he explains as the contents roll out, “I’d like to teach you.” 

You look down as he sorts out the many pieces into sets. He is lithe in his arrangement. When he is down, he presses his hands flat to frame the assortment. 

“You don’t mind?” He wonders, “if you are tired still...” 

“Your highness, I am awake,” you rub your eyes and drop your hands to your lap. “A game? How do you play it?” 

You lean forward and he seems pleased by your intent. He curls his fingers and takes a breath. 

“It is like bartering at a market, or the like,” he begins, “you see how the pieces differ,” he points to the longer ones, “there are tick marks here,” he shows you how one has an ex, another a line this way and the next that way, and a circle in another. “We each have our dice,” he divides those up and pushes a set towards you, “it is a matter of trade and cost.” 

“Hmm,” you push your lip out, concentrating. 

He continues to explain the balancing and leveraging of each roll. How once you have collected all the pieces with a particular mark, you may wield a greater demand. You tilt your head thoughtfully, your own fingers drawing lines in the air as you make sense of his instruction. You think you understand but remain uncertain. 

“We may begin simple,” he intones. 

So suddenly are you swept up in the intricacy of the game, that your shock at his appearance dissipates. You can only think of the pieces as he rolls a die. Then the next. You follow his lead and when at last the first trade comes, you hear his offer but have no response. 

“You have a question?” He prompts. 

“I am thinking, your highness,” you squint as your forehead lines. 

“I can tell,” he says brightly. 

You peer up at him and smooth your expression. His cheek twitches as he leans back. You counter his offer and he clucks. 

“Mm, I see,” he rests his chin on his knuckles. 

He hands over his pieces and you bite the inside of your lip. You gather them to your side of the table and frown. You toy with the dice and wait. 

“Your turn,” he urges, “unless you are not having fun.” 

“It is an interesting game but I don’t want to be let to win,” you mutter. 

“I am not letting you win. It is the first turn and it is a long game,” he chides. 

“Mm, yes,” you pick through the dice, “your highness.” 

He exhales and leans on the armrest, “take your time. I am no hurry to be away.” 

You peer up at him and find his gaze set on you. You return your attention to the dice and toss them. He’s a king, should he have better things to do? 

⚔️

“It appears you have bested me,” King Geralt sighs and puts his dice down, pressing his hand flat over them, “you have the mind of a councilour.” 

“Your highness,” you bring your hands back to wring in your lap.  

“Truly, you’ve taken well to it,” he remarks, “it has been some time since I had harrying competition.” 

You offer a slight curve of your lips and look away. The window is dulled as the sunlight descends. You blanch and slip forward on the chair. 

“Your highness,” you stand, “it is late. I should--” 

“You may remain,” he assures you as he shows his palm kindly, “no hurry, little maid.” 

“But... shouldn’t you--” you keep yourself from asking after his duty. That is not for you to mind, “the queen will need dinner.” 

“As I said before, this place is ripe with servants,” he says coolly, “you should sit and bask in the time you have off your feet.” 

You face him and slowly sit. He drags his fingers along the wooden armrest as his expression tightens. He watches you as his square jaw clenches, “unless you would rather be away from me?” 

You twist around to look at the door, then to him. 

“I will go wherever you command, your highness.” 

“Yes, yes,” his hand balls to a fist, “that is not what I...” he sighs with exasperation, “I want to know what you desire. What do you want? What do you need?” 

There’s a stirring in your chest as he leans slightly forward, his eyes alight. You peer into the golden pools and your lips part. He is a king and yet speaks as if he would serve you. 

“I...” you wisp and clamp your lips tight, measuring your words, “I want to serve you and the queen, your highness. I want to serve the realm.” 

He huffs again and grimaces, “for yourself. Not the queen, not me, not the people.” 

“Hmmm,” you look down and shrug. You shake your head. You can’t think of anything. “I have a new dress and a hot bath and good food. I can think of nothing. What of you, your highness? What do you want?” You lift your chin slowly, “just for you?” 

Your question seems to startle him. He winces and for a moment, seems breathless. He stands suddenly and takes a step forward. He’s close and you think he might lunge at you. You shy away, expecting the same wrath you inspire in the queen. He falters and backs away. 

“I want...” he grits and turns his back to you. 

He walks to the window and looks out onto the lawns. He hangs his head and grips the window’s edge. He lets out a gravelly sigh. 

“I want you...” he utters, “...to come walk with me in the gardens. I would like to do so before we must depart.” 

You rise again, “yes, your highness, I will put my shoes on then.” 

He puffs out into the deepening dusk. You can feel his frustration roiling from his figure. You grab the stockings and the shoes and return to the chair. You roll the stocking onto your foot and pull it up your leg, rumpling up one side of the skirt as you do. As you hike up the next, the king faces you, surprising you before you can drop the fabric back down to your toes. You sheepishly bend to put your shoes on, embarrassed. 

“Thank you, little maid,” he approaches and offers his hand, “for keeping a miserable king company.” 

You look at his hand. It’s big and calloused and lined like a map. The invitation seems overly friendly. You accept it, not so bold as to turn him away. 

“Your highness,” You murmur as he squeezes your hand then lets his arm fall straight, tugging you away from the table. 

Silently, he lets his grip brush from your hand and instead hooks his arm through yours. It is an overly familiar gesture but you allow it. What more can a maid do? As you near the door, he stops and untangles from you completely, stepping away as if struck by the oddity of his actions. He reaches for the door handle and inhales. 

He opens the door and steps into the corridor, you follow him, just a pace back. He looks over his shoulder at you then turns ahead. You scurry to keep up with his long strides. He stops at the end of the hallway and you nearly collide with his elbow. 

“I am not miserable because of you,” he angles his head towards you as he keeps his voice low, “if you worried...” he shakes his head at himself, “come, little maid.” 

You do as he says and trail him through the corridors. It is late and while soldiers remain on watch, most of the lords and ladies have tucked away for their evening meals. The king continues his unstoppable advance with you at his heels. Down a flight of stairs and across the great hall. 

Outside, several soldiers bow their heads at his passing and another nears. He dismisses them without a word. You carry on, sensing how his mood darkens with the sky. You’re uncertain of his demeanour, so suddenly shifting from affable to affronted. You didn’t say what he wanted and now he is unhappy. He can be rather like his wife. 

He stalks onward to the archway that marks the green gardens of the capital castle. He passes between the leafy pillars and stops to look this way then that, then opts to walk along the middle row. You flit between the hedges behind him as the sky ripples with the looming night and a cool breeze stirs around your skirts. 

He is silent as he walks, almost as if he’s forgotten you. You wonder if you fall out of step, if you are lost behind him, would he even notice? Finally, he slows before a pond dug into the center of the gardens, amid lilies and daisies and blue bells. The moon shines down and reflects off the tepid pool. 

He treads around the edge of the pond as you stand by the bushes. He circles around to a wooden bench and sits. His shoulders slouch and he leans his head back. The silver light limns his strong features. When he opens his eyes, they glow as they did in your dream. 

“I have come this far, I have conquered as I vowed to, I have vanquished the old king,” he speaks to the sky, “I have done all I sought to and yet I am wanting.” 

You dip your head, sad for him. You might assume a king would be happy for all his gold and power. That a crown would bring delight as much as glory. All you see is a man in mourning. For all he’s won, he’s lost just as much. Loyal men and many months. 

“I have a wife who is petulant, I have an ally who is cowardice, and I have nothing left here to claim,” he continues, “should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.” 

He hangs his head and leans forward, gripping the edge of the bench. He sits in silence as he watches the water. A frog hops onto a large stone protruding from the shallows and steals your attention. You watch it leap again and again until it meets the other side. 

“Little maid...” the sultry purr crawls over you and you glance over to find the king observing you, “sit with me.” 

You shiver and cautiously make your way around the pond. You near him and sit at the end of the bench opposite him. You fixate on the moonlit water. He leans to grab your wrist and hauls you closer. You sidle down until you are almost against him. He slips his hand around yours, covering it in his grasp. He pulls it onto his thigh and rests it there. 

He clings to you just like that. You feel a pluck in your chest for him. He has a wife who should share in his troubles but she is too buried in the anguish she made for herself. Yet, she is not there, and you are; a paltry substitute for what he truly needs. 

Silence pervades the night but for the chirping of insects and the sweet singing of birds. The king’s grasp on you tightens, then lessens, and tightens again. He eases his hold entirely and pets your hand. 

“Will you play another game with me?” His timbre is silty as he looks over at you. 

“A game, your highness?” You babble. 

He hums and nods, “a child’s game,” he explains, “it is simple.” He sits straight and pushes back his hair, “you will run and I will catch you.” 

Your heart lurches. Your lashes flutter. You played the game before, when you were young, with the queen even. But that was years ago and you were smaller and faster. You look at the king. 

“Your highness,” you utter. 

“It’s my command,” he says, “run.” 

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

[honeybeefae]

Strawberry Wine (Tamlin x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY ELEVEN: APHRODISIACS

Summary// Calanmai was something you knew about but never took part in, preferring to stay on the sidelines or at home. It would be your luck that tonight, right at the Great Rite began, you would get picked right as you tried to sneak away. Before you can refuse, a sweet-tasting wine is given to you that makes your mind fuzzy, thighs clench, and Tamlin look better than ever. 

(I said I was picking back up on Kinktober and in celebration of Earth Day, why not celebrate with the High Lord of Spring? This is my first time writing for Tamlin, and I’m lowkey excited! I hope you all like it <3)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+. Aphrodisiac Usage (so Dubcon), Biting, Slight Breeding Kink, 

You have attended almost every Calanmai since reaching your maidenhood but always stayed in the dark. Watching your friends and others drink and be merry, giving back to the land and magic was fun, but you were the notorious wallflower. 

Of course, you fantasized just as much as the other maidens about getting picked to help Tamlin in the Great Rite. It was always an honor to be picked, but after everything that happened over the last few years, this Rite was important. It would be the ultimate test of whether Tamlin could remain High Lord. If he could produce enough magic to heal the land…and hopefully himself. 

Working as one of the servants in his house, you saw firsthand how Feyre and Hybern had made him a shell of his former self. Whispers of his weakening power were heard in every corner of the house. You hadn’t been under him when everything had happened, only the aftermath, but it hurt you to see someone so low. 

Even if it were his own choices that led him to that place.

As the drums sound out, signaling the beginning of the Rite, you awake from your thoughts and begin to weave through the crowd. You did dream about being picked, but given the circumstances now, you pity the girl who was chosen. She was as much as responsible as Tamlin in the ritual.

Fire dances along the cave walls as you murmur apologies, trying to squeeze past the crowd that only seems to get louder and louder. A cool breeze whisps past you, almost as if it were trying to whisper something, but before you can focus on it, you feel a rough, calloused hand grasp your wrist. 

“You.” 

Time freezes along with your body as you recognize the rough, low voice. All eyes are on you, taking in every detail of your body as they try to decipher what made you stand out before they all come to their senses and cheer.

Tamlin doesn’t wait for your excuses that were already building on your tongue, turning back to stalk further into the cave that you had only seen in the darkest corners of your mind. You swallow, wondering if you could turn to dash, but before you can, several hands start to push you forward. 

Your stomach lurches, and your vision blurs as you stand before several friends, family, and fellow court members. One of them, an elder, smiles warmly at you and holds up a single gold goblet. She whispers something akin to a prayer, though it is so loud you can barely hear her, before she brings the cup to your lips. 

“Wait, please,” You raise your hand to push it away, staring at her pleadingly. “I’m not the right one. I was leaving. I’m the wrong girl.”

“Fate is never wrong, young maiden.” She hums, her fingers brushing away your stray hairs. “Drink. You will feel better.”

And despite every alarm bell going off in your head, you obediently open your mouth. It was as if she put a spell on you. The drink, a sweet wine that tastes faintly of strawberries, goes down your throat easily. Your tastebuds seem to explode at the richness of the alcohol, craving more as you grab the goblet yourself and tip it all the way back. 

There were chuckles behind you as you frown into the empty cup, looking back up to the woman only to realize she looks slightly fuzzy. In fact, now that you think about it, everything seems blurry. 

A warmth blossoms in your belly that makes you sigh, your eyelashes fluttering as the heat goes further down. You’re distantly aware that you are in public and should definitely not be rubbing your thighs together like you’re doing, but the shame is nowhere to be found. In fact, the only thing you can feel is desire. 

“What’s…what’s happening to me?” You mumble, mouth going dry as the woman takes your hand and guides you to where Tamlin had gone.

“It’s an aphrodisiac, my dear. Something to lower your inhibitions and anxiety. It will allow more magic to flow through you and into the Earth.” She explains. You know it makes sense. A lot of people are held back by their own fears and cannot access their full potential. 

The light dims the further you go until you feel her let go of your hand. You want to protest, to turn and run, but something otherworldly seems to push you forward until you see a small campfire flickering. The people you heard cheering and singing earlier had fallen silent, the air itself stilling as you peek around the corner to see the man waiting for you. 

However, in the state he was in, you would describe him as more savage than man. His clothes were all but shredded, symbols painted onto his skin that seemed to glow as his hair fell out of its braids. You couldn’t see his face but knew his pupils were dilated, his canines probably sharper and longer. 

“I can smell you,” Tamlin growls, turning his body so that his intense gaze meets your eyes. “I picked you out immediately.”

“I can smell you too…” You whisper, the wine heightening most of your senses as the scent of cedar, rain, and faint honeysuckles fills your nose. It makes your mouth water. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do this. She gave me-”

Suddenly Tamlin was in front of you, your eyes immediately falling to his hard cock before he grasps your chin and pulls it up so that he could look into your eyes. There is a wide range of emotions, but the most dominant one is anger. 

Anger?

“What did they give you?” His jaw clenches as he turns your face from side to side, taking in your glassy eyes and disheveled appearance. “They gave you the wine, didn’t they?”

“Why are you angry?” You skip over his question, raising your fingers to smooth over the frown lines on his forehead. 

“Forgive me for not being thrilled that you are currently under drugs in order to sleep with me.” He snaps, pulling away from your touch. “I would never take advantage of you like this. And for them to think that you needed this…that no one would…”

You might be out of it, but you could feel the pain in his words. He didn’t know about the wine. His mind was spiraling, not only for your safety but also for the fact that his court members thought no one would want him anymore. That this was something they would have to force someone to do. 

It confirmed all the worst things he thought of himself and his court. 

But you weren’t forced here, not truly. Of course, you were hesitant at the beginning because you had never done something like this before, but now that you were here…you were sure that even without the aphrodisiacs, you would still feel this yearning. 

This was sudden and not how you expected the night to go, but you weren’t upset. In fact, it was something you had been dreaming about. You hated seeing Tamlin holed away, to see how broken he was. You just wanted to heal him. 

“Tamlin…” You say softly, taking the same approach one would do for an injured predator.  “Tamlin, look at me.” 

He does, and it damn near breaks you. All the pain, sorrow, anger, disappointment, grief, it was drowning him. 

“This may not make sense because my mouth feels numb,” You smile, cracking a joke. “But first of all, please understand no one is forcing me here. I know I could leave any time, I know I could have refused the wine, I know what this means, and I chose it.”

“But-” He starts to protest, but you hold up your hand and smush your finger against his lips. 

“Shhh, listen to me,” You soothe. “I cannot imagine what is inside your brain right now. The pressure, the memories, it sounds like hell. Just…let’s just forget about it tonight. Let this be the distraction you need, the healing this land needs, and tomorrow, we can worry about the rest.”

Tamlin gazes down at you, green eyes holding you still as he cups your face with shaky hands. The wind picks up around you, tickling your thighs and arms, before it pushes you forward and up to meet his plush lips.

Somewhere, distantly, you swear you hear fireworks going off as you immediately return the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, pressing your body impossibly closer as his fingers thread through your hair. His warmth only adds to yours, making you feel like an inferno as you swipe your tongue along his bottom lip teasingly.

You meant what you said about tonight being a distraction. You are going to take full advantage of sleeping with the High Lord. 

His chest rumbles with a growl that resonates to your core, pulling away for a brief moment to look you over before he claims your mouth once more. This time, it is much more passionate. Teeth clash, his once gentle fingers in your hair become a harsh grasp as he pulls your head to one side to expose your neck and shoulders. 

“Cauldron save me,” He whispers into your skin, peppering open-mouth kisses to the column of your throat. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve craved this.”

“Likewise-ah!” You yelp as he bites down on your shoulder, just hard enough to make you wince. This doesn’t deter him. Instead, it spurs him on as he lifts you up effortlessly and pushes you against the cold cave wall. 

“Look at you, petal,” Tamlin smirks as he cups your face again, running his thumb across your flush cheeks. “And we’ve barely even begun.”

“Please,” Your voice is high and needy as you feel his cock rut up against you, your panties already soaked through. “Please, I need more.”

He clicks his tongue and slips one of his hands between your bodies, his eyes screwing shut as he feels just how wet you are. You moan loudly when he shoves your underwear to the side and teases your cunt, brushing over your clit before shallowly dipping two fingers inside.

“Tamlin!” You groan, resting your head against the wall as he chuckles. 

“Trust me, I want to bury myself as deep as I can inside this delicious pussy,” He moans, pushing his fingers in deeper to stretch you out. “But I have to make sure I won’t hurt you. I want you to take all of me, love. Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Hearing him use such crass language only makes your whines increase as he curls his fingers, playing with your body like he knows every cord. You pant as his pace increases, feeling his precum leak onto your thigh as you beg and plead for him to just fuck you. 

It’s only after what feels like an eternity that he pulls out his fingers and nudges the head of his cock against your entrance. You want to close your eyes, to make sure you feel every sensation, but Tamlin maintains eye contact as he presses his forehead against yours. 

“I want to watch your face as you swallow my dick, petal. I want to watch those beautiful eyes tear up from the stretch and pleasure, to feel those little shakes as you take more and more.” He says lowly, kissing you one more time before he starts to thrust into you. 

You couldn’t hold the moan in even if an arrow was notched against your head. Your cries bounce off the walls as he sinks deeper and deeper into you, his breaths coming out in pants as he finally bottomed out. His hands fall to your hips, digging into them with his emerging claws as he looks up at you. 

The pupils were so round that you could barely see the green in his eyes, his teeth clenching as he pulls out slowly and thrust back up. The sensation pulls out a string of curses, and that is all the encouragement he needs to start fucking you. 

He isn’t gentle, not caring that your back was scraping painfully against the cave wall or that his claws were almost piercing your flesh. Tamlin seems to be more beast than man, and you were no better, the wine enhancing everything as you swear you can feel him pulse inside you. 

“Yes, yes, fuck right there!” You cry out, arching your back to try and get closer to him. 

“That’s it, love, scream for me.” He growls as everything around him sharpens. You could feel something tingle in the back of your mind, like a gentle kiss, but he hits your spot, making your mind go blank. 

And you do. You are certain they could hear you all the way in the night court as you feel your cunt tighten around him. Your orgasm had snuck up on you, but now that you were on the edge, you knew it was going to drown you. 

Urgency begins to grow between you as he thrusts faster and harder. It was stealing the breath from your lungs as you chant his name, wrapping your arm around his neck and pulling him into your sweaty chest. Tamlin waste no time in kissing and sucking on your breasts, tugging on your nipples as his own balls start to throb. 

“Cum in me, please, Tam,” You whimper, grinding down so that your clit is rubbing against his abs. “Fill me up with your seed, please!” 

Before you can even blink, you feel him snap his hips up so sharp that it sends you hurdling over the edge. The tides of pleasure fill your lungs and drag you into darkness as your eyes screw shut, your orgasm so powerful you swear you can feel the ground shake. 

And when Tamlin follows right behind you, his teeth connecting to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you actually do feel it shake. It sends the two of you falling down, but he is quick to catch you, cradling your head while continuing to fuck you full of his cum. 

He pulls away long enough to roar before he kisses you fiercely, your own blood mingling with his saliva as you slowly start to come down. Tamlin rolls to the side and brings you with him, laying you across his chest while remaining inside you. 

The sound of music is the first thing to stir you to look around, realizing the wine is starting to wear off as your gaze falls back to the High Lord. He looks positively sinful, his chest red and sweaty from exertion while his lips hold a playful smile. 

“It’s nice to see that again.” You smile, suddenly bashful now that the liquid courage is gone. 

“I have a feeling you’ll see a lot more of it in the future.” He responds, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Are you okay?”

You look yourself over, noting the bruises and scrapes, but you know they will heal soon. Mentally, you felt…well, those feelings were better saved for another day. Instead, you nod and rest your head on his chest, not wanting to spoil the moment. 

He kisses your head, and when you nuzzle down further, your sensitive sex gives a small clench, and his chest rumbles with a warning. 

“What? Are you already ready for round two?” You tease, lifting your chin to look at him. 

Tamlin smirks again and pokes his tongue against his cheek, giving a weak thrust inside you so that you can feel him harden. 

“You’re in for a long night, petal.” 

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar smut #acotar reader smut #tamlin x reader #tamlin x reader smut #tamlin acotar #tamlin #tamlin acotar smut #tamlin x reader acotar #tamlin x reader acotar smut #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #tamlin smut #spring court #acotar reader imagine #tamlin imagine #acotar reader imagine smut #acotar reader fic

[algea]

just a few headcannons I have for Lars

(btw these are mine, they may not be yours)

Lars is the type of guy who gets super mega irritated if you ask too many questions about anyone besides him. Oh, you're asking him about his work? It's fine until you bug him with questions about other people and their work

Despite what you may believe, Lars is also a very jealous guy. One word about another guy and he's already interrogating you like you just murdered someone

Dude has absolutely no chill when it comes to his work. Someone starts talking shit about what he does and it's so over for them.

Even though he may not show it, Lars really enjoys when you touch him. If you're sitting beside him at the lab and place a hand on his shoulder, he's definitely leaning into you and relishing your touch (could also definitely be taken into other context as well).

Lars can absolutely, in no way shape or form, cook to save his life. He heavily relies on whatever he's got in his pantry or you to make him something. He also doesn't really have time for breakfast, so you best believe he's a snacker.

Lars talks to his mom on the phone everyday after he gets home from work. He is, without a doubt, a momma raised boy and you love it.

Lars hates coffee. Plain and simple. He will literally drink anything other than coffee. In fact, his favored drink isn't tea, it's water. He has to maintain his perfect hair somehow.

He may be a cocky son of a bitch, but he will definitely stand up for you if someone belittles you. Lars likes to tease you by saying rude things, but you know that he's just playing and that's how he flirts. When other people do it, he's very quick to jump on their ass about it. Absolutely no tolerance for someone making fun of you.

Even though Lars may not be social, he loves to converse about science and whatnot. He could literally get stuck in a conversation for hours about science. You find it so cute that whenever someone brings up something he likes to talk about, his pupils widen and a grin breaks out on his face.

Lars really loves to listen to music. He listens to it in the lab, at home, anywhere he can really. He's more into indie and older music, like Bees Gees, Sports Team, or Turning Jane.

Lars likes stupid romcom movies. It's a bit cliche, but he really loves a good romcom movie. He'd sit there for hours and watch them if you let him. He hates to admit it, but he loves Clueless and Legally Blonde.

He loves it when you kiss him. Whenever you kiss him, he always has a stupid little love drunk smile after. He's so head over heels for you and it's so cute.

Surprisingly, he's not super neat. Of course, he's not super messy either. Normally, he has a little clutter on his desk and he hates when someone touches something. If someone starts to clean up his desk a little, he's super quick to tell them off about it.

Lars loves when he's able to relax with you. On the days that neither of you are at the lab all night, he loves to curl up with you on the bed and talk about something. Sometimes you both read instead of talking. Just kinda a way to decompress after a long few days of work.

Even though he hunts ghosts, Lars is scared super easily. You could literally be standing behind a door and when he opens it he jumps and lets out a string of curses. This, of course, comes with some of the best pranks you've ever pulled on him. However, don't think that he won't do something back. He despises horror movies and makes you hold his hand whenever you watch one.

Lars puts a lot of time into his hair and skin. We all know about the Pukey incident (which you did not let him live down), so you definitely know that he's extra careful with his skincare and haircare from now on (his hair turned green for a few days).

Despite not knowing how to cook, Lars is such a foodie. If he has the chance to try something new, you best believe he's going to try it. Lars also loves fruity drinks, non-alcoholic and alcoholic (just like James).

I hope you guys liked some of these headcannons as much as I do because they're so fun to write.

#lars pinfield #ghostbusters frozen empire #lars pinfield x reader #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters #james acaster #lars pinfield x you