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ashessonfire · 1 year

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Hello, i have a potential kaz x reader request for you!! I, for some reason, love the idea of a very soft/domestic kaz moment with reader who isn’t involved in the crime life. So what about y/n being married to kaz and for some reason she makes her way down to the crow club (maybe someone broke into the house or something) and kaz is extreamly confused and concerned and the rest if the crows are like "andddd who are you?"

if you don't feel it, feel free to ignore!

'Intruder' - Kaz Brekker x reader

Prompt - Kaz is a highly secretive man, even to his closest friends, but what happens when a panicked citizen rushes into the Crow Club demanding his presence? It could even suggest that he had the ability to love. - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Civilian!Reader (Gender neautral)(married for at least a few years but not specified) - Warnings: Thief enters readers house, brief mention of fighting and injury, a knife?? Kaz just being super soft for you! <333 PART TWO NOW POSTED! (click here) - A/N: Thank you for ALL the love on the last post, and my first fic ever! I hope this does just as well and its enjoyed too. I know its not as fluffy as maybe expected but i really like how it turned out. PLEASE KEEP REQUESTING!!(some moonknight coming soon) <3333

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The chilling wind of Ketterdam rushed past your face, adding to your already watering eyes that couldn’t stop frantically searching around for further threats.

You had been enjoying a quiet morning, browsing the market, drinking tea with friends, and even finding a new hat for Kaz. All was serene, until you turned the lock in the front door, only to be confronted by a menacing figure, knife gripped in one hand, Kaz’s favourite (and most expensive) tea set in the other.

A small gasp escaped you, before your mind took control, rushing forward to land a harsh blow directly on the figure’s nose, just at the right angle like Kaz had demonstrated.

He let out a murderous scream whilst dropping the tea set onto the ground, the shattering of the pieces echoing in your heart and mind. However, this granted you enough time to grab the edge of his jacket and pull him through the doorframe, using every ounce of your strength.

He stumbled down the steps of the small apartment, loosing his footing and falling rapidly, landing brutally on the cobblestone street below and roaring in pain as a jolting crack resounded from where he landed.

Without thinking, you scrambled inside, bolted the door, and ran as fast as you possibly could out of the side entrance, internally crying as your boots struggled through the remains of your husband's most beloved item.

As you struggled through the tight alleyway, you prayed that the Stadwatch had noticed the commotion and apprehended the man. As you bolted down the poorly lit streets of the barrel, thoughts of terror began plaguing your mind.

What if Kaz hadn’t taught you to defend yourself? What if you had reacted too slowly? Would Kaz be angry with you for not finishing the job? How would ‘Dirtyhands’ react to your utter horror at one intruder?

You were abruptly ripped from your thoughts by the unmistakable image of a crow, hanging magnificently above the crowded street. Pushing your way through the crowd, you suppressed the nerves rising in your chest, threatening to choke you, as you entered the crow club for the first time.

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The unmistakable smell of alcohol and smoke clouded your senses immediately, as crowds of ‘pigeons,’ as Kaz may call them, wandered around the floor without a care for others around them.

As frightening as the previous events had been, you didn’t allow yourself to be overwhelmed by this too, shoving your violently shaking hands into your pockets to stop the visible nerves from showing.

Jesper and Wylan sat in close proximity at the bar edge, as far from the yelling and cheering of the customers as they possibly could. Your gazed locked onto the face of the tall Zemeni man, thinking back to the hundreds of times Kaz’s mask had slipped, and he had spoken fondly of his best friend.

Despite Kaz’s firm objection to verbal communication, he often fell victim to your warmth and comfort, his affections for his crew spilling into casual conversation, almost subconsciously. Of course, the Bastard of the Barrel couldn’t hold onto something as weak as friendship. However, this meant that you were very familiar with each of his ‘crows,’ despite never officially meeting any of them.

Mustering all the courage you could, you sucked in a sharp breath, preparing yourself for the challenging journey to your last hope at finding him.

You weaved your way cautiously between the rowdy groups, dodging drunken gestures and swinging arms, until you reached the pair sat at the bar, panic spreading through your body like wildfire. You made note to keep your hands firmly tucked within the safety of your jacket, in a feeble attempt to keep up a façade of confidence.

As their gazes turned towards you, you gently cleared your throat in the hopes of removing any indication of fright, and in turn, weakness from your voice.

“I’m looking for Kaz? Kaz Brekker?” you stuttered out, eyes darting around to avoid the quizzical gazes of the two men in front of you. Under different circumstances you wished to have met them when your usual air of joy blanketed not only you, but all of those who encountered you too. Yet it seemed like the Saints weren't on your side for that wish today.

You were snapped back from your thoughts, as they glanced at each other, sharing an unspoken but clear sense of bewilderment between them at your odd request. Often drunken pigeons, or rough street urchins would request to see the boss, but it wasn’t a common sight to see a regularly dressed citizen in such a state demanding an audience with Mr Brekker himself.

“I’m afraid it’s pretty difficult to get a meeting with the boss, always busy you know?” spoke the man you assumed to be Jesper, in a kind but skeptical tone, swirling the drink in his hand as he failed to decipher the reason for your visit.

Panic began to claw its way deeper into your chest, as you quickly blurted out “Please, its important, I need to see Kaz. Please bring me to see him.” The sudden outburst once again surprised the men, however Wylan’s gaze softened at the clear desperation on your features, and Jesper’s confusion morphed into something that resembled pity.

Wylan subtly leaned into Jesper, whispering “I think you should take her, she seems pretty desperate?” causing Jesper to let out a sigh before meeting your gaze yet again.

Reluctantly, Jesper stood up, stretching his limbs well, before letting out a dramatic sigh, followed by a feigned annoyance at the request, analyzing you for a moment before stating, “Let’s go see the boss then.”

He quickly turned back to you, flashing a lopsided, yet winning grin, which put to rest some of the bubbling anxiety that was becoming inescapable. As you ascended the stairs to his office, a skeptical looking woman glanced curiously up at the three of you, hopping out of her chair to trail behind you, whilst stuffing the remains of what looked like a waffle into her mouth.

Before you could inquire about the third individual following your small group, you were suddenly met with the dark oak door of Kaz Brekker’s office. Jesper shot another reassuring grin back at you, as he rapidly knocked on the office door and let himself in before an answer called out.

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The instant you saw your husband, the tears glossed over your eyes, shining with a dangerous threat of escaping. However, to your surprise, you were able to win the valiant battle for a little longer.

You knew how vital it was for your husband to keep his personal life separated from his work life; one wrong move, and you could end up in the hands of another gang, tortured in exchange for information on the Dregs. This knowledge was what kept you from barreling towards his desk without a second thought, with even the smallest slip from Jesper potentially ruining every bit of yours and Kaz’s struggle to break down his walls.

Kaz sat at his desk at the centre of the bleak room, a faint patch of light hitting his face from a glowing street lantern, casting deep shadows across his sharp features. His shoulders tensed as he remained solely focused on the blueprint in front of him, his harsh glare at the sheet almost seemed as if he was planning to murder it. Perhaps if you weren’t so shaken you may have let out a soft laugh at his pure concentration.

“What is it? I have no time for irrelevant interruption, this marksheet needs to be completed before twelve bells tonight,” A sharp voice suddenly cut through the thick silence. Jesper cleared his throat before confronting his boss, shifting his weight between each foot at the temper that Kaz was evidently displaying.

“Well, you see, I was sitting downstairs with Wylan at the bar, when all of a sudden…” Jesper started, but was cut off by a deadly look from Kaz to get to the point. As his gaze shot upwards towards the sharpshooter, he finally noticed the second figure in the room and his heart plummeted.

Why were you here?

Kaz’s mind began spinning, grasping for any logical reason as to why you were in the one of the most dangerous staves of the Barrel, requiring his assistance.

An identical panic to yours seized his chest as he inspected your state, your hair was windswept, eyes glossed over and glinting with a touch of fear, a visible shake to your arms and legs, which he had been fortunate enough to never experience until now.

You looked utterly terrified.

A single murderous look was enough for Jesper to throw his hands up in defense, and saunter quietly out of the room, glancing curiously back at the two of you as he shut the door. Jesper thought to himself that his life in the long run would be far more valuable than the price of his curiosity now.

Although Kaz is a man of few words, he seemed truly speechless, barely managing to register his own steps as he moved slowly towards you, each limp bringing his comfort closer and closer to you. Once he had reached your figure, he noticed you had curled in on yourself, hands clasped firmly together in front of you, and eyes darting rapidly around his face, searching for something, as it appeared to him.

He slowly reached towards you, and with a gloved hand, tenderly unwound your fingers from their iron grip, instead intertwining them with his own to bring you comfort and slow your light but swift breathing. Kaz remained tight-lipped, words rushing through his head, yet not formulating into any combination which he thought would be appropriate to calm you down.

He gazed intensely into your eyes, softening with each moment as he took in your shaken state, something that was rare due to his exceptional ability to keep you away from his violent life.

Until now.

Yet you had taught him not to run anymore when he encounters challenges, leading him to battle his mind later, and care for you in the present. Plus, you had the courage to make your way through the barrel in this condition, the least he could do was give you his everything.

You released a long, shaky sigh, staring only at Kaz’s chest now in order to match your breaths, imagining that your hearts were beating together too. You knew Kaz was struggling to find a grip within his thoughts, fingers twitching against your own as his body worked overtime, in a way it only did for you.

Several minutes passed in a strange silence, as the pair of you basked in each other's presence, the close distance allowing both of you to be assured the other is safe and within reach, yet the tension and anxiety still buzzed through the air.

“Someone broke in, I’m not sure who or from where. Tried to steal your favorite tea set, you know the one you brought back from Ravka once? I hit him square like you said. But it, but it boke. Shattered actually. It gave me enough time to run, but I don’t know. He may have followed or…” you suddenly burst out, the emotions flowing out of you through your words, and soon to follow were the tears.

You were cut off in your rambling however, as a feather-light kiss graced your temple, drawing you into a pool of warmth, suddenly able to feel the heat of the fire and the glow of the candles that surrounded Kaz’s office, likely gifts of yours.

Although Kaz’s voice was hardened, you knew he was holding back significantly to soothe you, building up wrath to unleash on the unfortunate man who entered your house earlier. The claws of the anxiety released their hold on you, allowing you to breathe deeply for the first time in hours.

“I’m here, darling, and you don’t need to think about that anymore,” he eventually breathed out, “I'll take care of it. I promise. I promise you,” he whispered against your forehead, again leaving the faintest outline of a kiss on the soft skin.

Whilst he was nowhere near healed, over the years you had opened up his deepest wounds and started to stitch them up, with each moment the pain easing ever so slightly. Direct touches were now common, with light pecks, or hand holding being Kaz's most favored actions.

Sometimes if you were lucky, you could get a short kiss on the lips, or a long hug through the safety of many layers; each being evident signs of his love for you, and how you were truly the only one to crack the code to the Bastard of the Barrel's heart.

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Kaz didn’t leave your side for the remainder of the night, bringing you anything you asked for, sitting the armchair closer to his desk to keep him company, hands held tightly until he deemed it safe enough to escort you home.

Wrapping you warmly with his largest coat, he gently placed his best hat atop your head, offering a small smile and breathy laugh as it tilted at an angle. Looking up to meet his gaze, you returned the grin, smile spreading to your eyes and cheeks. Kaz carefully adjusted the edges of the coat to obscure your face, being thorough in the process to avoid any identification of who was accompanying him.

As the door clicked open, and the pair stepped into the hallway, pinkies interlinked, a group of three snooping crows barreled backwards, hitting into each other and the walls. Kaz sent a deathly glare at each of them, as they stood in shock at the sight before them, Jesper gasping, Wylan gaping with fright, and Nina's smirk widening by the second.

After a series of extreme threats hurled at the group outside his office, Kaz pushed past them and dragged you with him, turning his coat collar upwards to hide the growing embarrassment colouring his face.

He crushed the feeling down, instead turning to his internal plotting to enact revenge on your behalf, inwardly smirking at the image of the man begging him for mercy as he pays for his offence in blood.

Meanwhile, Nina stood grinning to herself, proud of her newfound knowledge which she was certain she could use against Kaz at some point soon. Because from that office, she not only heard the hammering heart of the poor citizen girl, but also the one of a love-struck gang leader too.

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#kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader fluff #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n

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sytoran · 11 months

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𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟏

you, a regular law-abiding citizen, saved the gods by accident. now, the goddess of lust, natasha, is going to grant you a wish. you could've had just about anything, but looking at the ethereal being before you, there's only one thing on your mind.

pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)

note: hello, folks! this is the long-awaited goddess!nat fic for the milestone event! i am quite proud of this fic, ngl... got a bit too carried away with some parts ;)

word count: 2.5k

the milestone event | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

When you jumped in front of a speeding car to save a cat on the road, you had absolutely no clue that the cat was not, in fact, a cat.

This not-cat was a species of flerken, and it’s name was Goose. Flerkens were extremely dangerous alien creatures. At least, that’s what the Goddess of Galaxies, Carol Danvers, told you.

Trust me, meeting an intergalactic space goddess with a pet killing-machine (that looked awfully like a cat) was about as chaotic and unbelievable as you would imagine it to be.

—

“H-holy fuck!” you yelled, jumping in your seat, as a glowing woman materialised before your very eyes, in your shithole of an office.

“I do not believe I am holy, even though I am a Goddess.” The woman stated, watching with curious eyes as you tittered over your split coffee. Lifting your laptop and muttering curses, then sifting through the messed up paperwork.

“You’re a what?” You asked distractedly, still panicking over the mess that is your desk. “My boss is actually going to murder me. Or maybe I’ll murder myself first. I am literally- Yeah, okay, how the fuck did you appear like that? And aren’t gods supposed to be like, really huge? You look kinda…… human.”

“I am a goddess.” Carol reiterated with slight annoyance. A literal extraterrestrial being was in front of your eyes, and the only thing you cared about was your damn coffee?

“We are beings you could only ever fathom from the depths of your imagination, powerful beyond measure. Which is also why we can shapeshift to look like regular human beings, so we won’t scare the shit outta you. Which seems to have still happened.”

You let out a dry bark of laughter. Carol wasn’t sure if you thought she was funny or you were about to burst into tears.

“So, why did you decide to visit me, ever-powerful, omnipresent, all-mighty being?” You asked, half-sarcastically, half simply given up on life itself. The report you had been working on for nearly an hour had been ruined by the fiasco earlier.

You dropped into your chair, kicking your feet up onto your desk. Loosening your black tie with a weary sigh, you looked at the Goddess’ eyes and continued. “I’m a nobody. I’m an overworked and underpaid attorney. I run on caffeine. I don’t know why or how you’re here, but I really–”

“You saved us. The Gods and Goddesses.” Carol interrupts, firm and unyielding. “We owe you, alright? You get one wish.”

“One wish, to get whatever it is you desire. Anything. Anything at all.”

—

Your story was absolutely one of zero to hero. From an ‘underpaid and overworked attorney’, to having the fucking gods of the multiverse indebted to you, it seemed like a rather unorthodox situation.

“So… what do you want?” Carol had asked you.

“Uhm, I don’t need anything,” you mumbled, fiddling with your loosened tie. “Like, it’s totally chill between us even if I saved your cat.”

Great. Real cool, Y/N. The middle school boys could never compare to your level of failed attempts at being cool.

“Goose is not a cat, alright?” Carol commented, offended. You mutter an apology.

“So, what do you want?” she continued impatiently. “Humans thrive off greed. You mortals always want something. What is it, money? A fancy car? A boyfr– okay, not to be stereotypical, but you’re definitely not straight. So, women on your mind?”

You splutter at her outright but nevertheless true allegation. Carol gives you this blank stare that makes you feel stupid.

“Well, I guess, as a woman, there’s something I do want,” you speak up after a while. Carol raises her eyebrows in interest. “Something I have wanted to try, you know.”

Leaning closer to whisper your deepest desire in the goddess’ ear, Carol’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. Her impressed, intrigued, embarrassed, and taken aback emotions all morphed into one expression, almost steals a laugh from your lips.

—

“You want me to grant you a cock.”

The Goddess of Lust sits in her throne, a picturesque image of perfection, the statement falling from her lips with such ease. There’s a lilt to her voice you can’t decipher. You just nod, looking unfalteringly at the goddess, as if it was the most normal request in the world.

The Goddess was slightly perturbed by your lack of, well, awe. There you were, standing in her grand palace, unfazed by the multi-million dollar chandeliers and gold-framed pictures, unfazed by her.

Natasha was just about the most exquisite sight people would kill to lay their eyes upon. Soft curls framed her delicately sculpted face like curtains to a stage, magnificent deep eyes and a more than well-endowed body to complement her pretty face. Her rose-gold dress of satins and sequins dripped with money. There was the thrall she exuded, of seduction so strong that had men and women falling to their knees.

Natasha was the Goddess of Lust for sakes, and the only thing you cared about was redeeming your wish?

She would’ve been annoyed, if not for how unfairly charming you were, standing with your hands in your pockets, a charming gentlemanly smile on your face.

“What kind of cock do you want?” Natasha resorts to ask, a playful smirk on her features. “I’ve seen some interesting ones over the years, intergalactic sex is far crazier than you would imagine. Ooh, do you want tentacles to-”

“Uh, no thanks.” You say hurriedly, a hand going out of your pocket to rub at your nose. It’s the first sign of discomfort or embarrassment Natasha’s seen from you. She grins.

“Just a regular human one?” She clarifies, pouting at you slightly.

“That’d be great, yeah.” You respond, back to smiling brightly. Natasha frowns. She knows that there’s something under that stupid gentlemanly facade you’re putting on. She’s craving to get a taste of it.

“What size?” The Goddess asks bluntly, like a Starbucks barista asking for your order on a Monday morning.

“A regular size would be fine, I suppose.” You respond in kind, nodding to yourself assuredly. Natasha winks at you. “Ah, a regular size, I see.”

Before you can decipher that cryptic response, the Goddess stands up, a pillar of superiority and authority. She snaps her fingers, and you’re being pushed back into a fancy chair. Where did the chair come from, anyway?

You forgo the answer to that question as the Goddess begins what you would assume to be the procedure. “Sit tight.”

A surge of pain presses against your crotch area, and you almost keel forward in shock, but the pain goes as quickly as it comes.

“Wait….. that’s it?” You ask, almost disbelievingly. Natasha nods proudly.

You look down, hands resting on your belt buckle.

You look up at the Goddess, and she only smirks.

You pull down your pants in swift fashion, letting out a quiet ‘whoa’ at the bulge in your boxers. It definitely feels bigger than would be regular, but then again you don’t have much knowledge of a man’s cock per se.

“Thank you,” You say, pleased with the results. Trying something new in the bedroom would definitely bring more life to your desolate days.

All too quick for the Goddess’ liking, you’re putting your clothes back on and getting ready to leave. “Thanks for your help,” You say calmly, turning to walk down the long passageway.

God, you just wanted to watch her fall apart.

As you walk, you feel Natasha’ eyes burning holes through your back. Oh, the tension was palpable, building with each step you took. It was getting harder to walk, with Natasha’s thrall like a heavyweight on your shoulders, willing you not to leave.

As you stand before the tall doors, you come to a standstill. Natasha waits in her throne with bated breath, so many words fighting to fall from the tip of her stubborn lips.

Your hand pushes down on the door handle, and that’s the last thing you can do before Natasha snaps her fingers again, and the tension is broken like a snapped coil. Suddenly, you’re pressed against her, looking into her dilated pupils.

“You’re so annoying, you know? I’ve been so fucking horny, looking at you this whole time, and you were about to get up leave?” Natasha asks, her tongue coming out to dart at her pink lips. Her hands have grasped your forearms, but your hands are cinched around her waist, disabling movement.

“No,” you breathe, head moving down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of her poised neck. “I was waiting for you.” The Goddess throws her head back under your fleeting touch.

“Fuckin’ tease,” she mumbles, and you smirk against her skin. You’re rough with her, too, knowing that she isn’t made of glass, sucking purple marks into the pale skin of her neck, shoving your knee between her legs to spread them wider.

“Too much clothes,” Natasha breathes, and then with a burst of magic you’re stripped bare of any article of clothing. Her hands fly to your cock instantaneously, wrapping her delicate fingers around your semi-hard member.

You grunt against her skin, struggling to find a better position to properly have her. Since she’s sitting in the throne and you’re bent over above her, you can barely have her the way you want. Due to your lack of magical power, you resort to doing things the hard way.

Your hands slide under Goddess’ dress, going under her thighs, and then manhandling her up. Natasha’s whines of disapproval turn on deaf ears as you sit yourself in the grand chair, plopping her onto your lap. You don’t miss the way her thighs are already slightly damp.

“Need you inside now, fuck,” Natasha growls into your skin, climbing onto your cock as your hands squeeze at her thighs. You proceed to rip the fabric off her skin, deciding that there’s too much clothing restricting you from getting your hands on her.

And boy, was that a sight you’d never forget.

“Oh!” The Goddess cries, when you lean forward to wrap your lips around her hardened bud. Your hands don’t rest for a moment, squeezing everywhere – hips, thighs, breasts, ass — whatever you can get your hands on. She’s fucking exquisite.

The stimulation seems to work wonders for Natasha’s pleasure, as she engulfs your cock in her warmth with fervour.

You gasp lowly, a throaty sound escaping your lips. Her hips and ass go up and down, working her cunt around the girth of your cock, wet and warm and slick. You can barely keep up with how desperate she is, and the fact that you have this wonder of a woman falling apart at your hands makes your heart soar.

Matching the rhythm of short upward thrusts with Natasha’s riding makes her moan out loud, a pretty melodious sound that imprints itself into your brain all at once. You wanna hear it a hundreds of times more.

Natasha gets more messy with her riding, as you suck hickeys, light ones and fierce ones, into her collarbone and her neck and breasts. You can’t resist the urge to slap her on the ass as she rides you like it’s the last day she’d be on this universe.

“Ah!” The Goddess moans, and you grip her thighs and push her down hilt deep, and her eyes roll into the back of her head. You feel her cum around your cock, so needy and desperate and mindless, and that triggers your own climax.

Natasha hadn’t even begun to open her eyes again before she ends up on the floor and you hovering above her, your hands fervently spreading her cunt open. You duck your head down, licking a long stripe up her puffy clit.

The Goddess writhes, unintelligible moans falling from her lips as you proceed to give her the best fucking cunnilingus of her life.

You’re more than determined to make this an unforgettable experience for the Goddess who probably had sex every other day.

Natasha doesn’t know what the fuck you’re doing with your tongue, but you’re ravenous and your carnal desire makes her even wetter than before.

She’s slept with plenty of people, human or not, but none of them had ever been this uncouth about her pussy. Oh, it nearly drove her mad, but she was already seeing stars.

Before the Goddess registers what’s happening, your hardened cock slides into her cunt with a flippant ease once again. Natasha lets out a filthy moan as she feels it throb inside her, clenching around you hard.

You slap her thigh in retaliation, but feeling the sudden strike of pain only turns her on further. “Gonna fill you up so good,” you pant. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Natasha takes it as a promise, when you spread her thighs and line your cock up with her pussy. The Goddess of Lust doesn’t think she’s ever wanted anyone this bad.

You enter her roughly, your previously calm exterior completely faded away. You fuck her deeper with each thrust, opening the Goddess up. Pounding into the woman’s cunt like a woman starved, you hear her beg and cry with each thrust.

“Oh, please! More! More!” The Goddes cries, nearly screaming your name every time your blunt head pushes against her cervix. You only get spurred on further, going at a pace so painfully fast you don’t know if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

You swallow at the sight of this Goddess, completely breathtaking in her state of unravelling.

“My divine Goddess,” You say, leaning down to press a kiss against the bulge of your cock at her lower stomach.

Those words in itself have Natasha uncoiling before you, your name falling from her lips like a sacred mantra. Her walls are wrapped around your cock so tight, her nails digging into your back so hard it nearly draws blood.

“My divine Goddess,” you repeat, eyes glazed over, reaching your own climax inside her. Natasha lets out a filthy moan, feeling each throb of your cock in her as walls of cum pulse inside her, again and again.

God, it feels so good, everything everywhere all at once, your world becoming Natasha, Natasha, Natasha.

You think you could stay like this forever.

—

A long bath and a trip to the Goddess’ bedroom later, you’re laying on her expensive silk sheets, hair smelling like rosemilk or whatever that shampoo had been called.

You honestly don’t know how this gorgeous woman’s been charmed by your awkward humour and the coffee stain on your work shirt, but you’re definitely not complaining as she nuzzles into your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You sure that’s the first time you’ve ever had a cock?”

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the milestone event | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #x reader #marvel #marvel smut #marvel women #top reader #dom reader #gxg smut #wlw smut #goddess natasha #sytoran's 2k celebration

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jinuaei · 17 days

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Cleaning up

Yandere! Husband! Alastor x Fallen Angel! Accidental Spouse! Reader

Part 1 --- Additional art

Maybe it was a bad idea to be married to this man. You thought as you saw other demons run away and cower from him, you would have also ran with them if only the person that everyone is so terrified of wasn't holding your arm hostage.

It would have been embarrassing getting dragged around by this tall deer if it wasn't the fact that you're also pissing yourself sacred. But the good thing is he actually believes that you are his ‘spouse’, so you don't think you'll be hurt…much. Besides, he’s such a gentleman that he gave you his coat to cover up your wings so that it wouldn't be exposed to any more harm.

After a while of trying not to trip, actually stumbling, and Alastor dragging you up again and again, you manage to notice the change of scenery, from tall depressing buildings to smaller, more quaint establishments. The demons that also frequent the streets changed from shark demons, to red imps, and finally to black eyed demons with sharp teeth.

Well, at least they look friendly.

“This place here is the cannibal town! We’ll be visiting a good friend of mine, I’m sure she’ll be able to clean you up in no time!” your ‘husband’ exclaimed.

I reclaim that statement.

The town is charming, and rather calming in contrast to that chaotic, overstimulating city you crashed landed in. Despite being in hell, there were flowers growing here, clearly being taken care of wonderfully by the citizens of this town. Vintage cars roam around the road and you see children playing in the parks you've passed through. It’s almost identical to what you see in heaven, but more demonic and nobody uses cars because well, everybody has wings. When you are reminded about the wings, yours twitches in response, rubbing against the deer’s coat. Because of that, feathers, still stained with blood, fall off. Alastor’s shadow tendril grabs it midair and pockets it into his trousers.

Finally, the radio demon abruptly stops, giving you enough time to stabilize yourself properly. With a wave of his hand he shows off to you a building named ‘Franklin and Rosie Emporium’, and you notice on the side there is a huge line of people waiting to enter. Whatever they sell here must be quite popular. Now that you think about it, it might be related to the ‘cannibalism’ part of the town.

Alastor must be important here because people moved away from him as he waltzed through the entrance and into the door. As soon as you both step in, an exclamation of his name catches both of you and your ‘husbands’ attention.

“Oh Alastor! It's always a delight when you come to visit the Emporium, how have you been? And oh! Who is this adorable birdie? Though they look absolutely filthy,” the demon steps into the view, a sweet looking lady with a polite smile who gingerly holds your hands.

“Rosie, meet mon cher, sent by the heavens to become my beloved spouse,” the radio demon lifts up your chin with his fingers, moving your head side to side as if to show you off to Rosie, “Also, would you be a dear and help them clean up? I expect my spouse to be absolutely pristine considering they're married to the greatest radio host of all time!”

“Well, I’ll be delighted to play dress-up with the sweet thing, maybe you can run to the tailors real quick and find them new clothes too.”

Agreeing to that, Alastor waves you goodbye and leaves, Rosie then ushers you to follow her while shouting at Franklin to man the store while she's out. You both emerge to a room above the shop, Rosie leading you to a spare bedroom with an en suite bathroom. It's quite homey, with mostly red as its main colour, other than that, nothing stands out to you.

“You can stay here for the time being as you wait for your husband, bathrooms over there, and there should be bandages and such under the sink. I will be down below to help Franklin with the customers, just find me if you need help!” Rosie closes the door to the room and leaves you to your lonesome. It's time to clean up, you think.

Stepping into the normal looking bathroom, a bathtub greeted you, thankfully it's big enough to fit you and your broken wings. You absentmindedly fill up the tub as you think back to before you fell, trying to determine what happened to cause you to fall from heaven's graces. Nothing comes to mind and eventually the tub fills up.

Shrugging off your ripped clothes and Alastor's coat, you sink into the water, seeping into the open wounds on your body. As much as you want to climb out the tub, it's important to rid yourself first from the golden blood and debris that cover you. You look over your whole body under the tainted water, you are covered in cuts and bruises but other than that, there's no concerning wounds to be found. Well, other than the numbing pain of your wings. Now that you think about it, your halo has been missing the whole trip. You can sense that it's there, but you cannot feel it above you, nor do you see it illuminate the room.

Maybe it's just hidden?

As you think that, the halo starts to manifest just above you, the glow weaker and flickering just slightly as if it's a broken bulb. You frown at the sheer difference from when you were in heaven, when it was incredibly bright, the other angels would tease you for being a walking lighthouse sometimes. When you lift up your hand to touch the halo, you notice a mark on your ring finger. Looking closer, it seems like a tattoo, of two snakes twisting into something akin to chains. How odd.

A knock pulls you out from your thoughts and a voice from the other room calls out to you.

“I’ll be leaving out your clothes on the bed my dear, Rosie will come by in a moment to help you with your hair!”

You quickly finish the bath and stumble in front of the mirror. Eyes darting to your mirrored self, you gaze upon the broken wings and dim halo, you are ashamed to see what you are now. Though you have done nothing to cause the fall, you still feel the undeserved guilt of being wrong. Ingrained to you during your time alive and dead, but you yourself know you've been good, so why berate yourself over other people's definition of good and evil?

Still, you try to will away the angelic limbs attached to you, and are successful in hiding it, leaving only red patches of burned skin on your back. Thankfully, you were able to soothe the irritated skin and patch up the area fairly well.

You close the door behind you and check out the clothes Alastor got for you, it's similar to his in design but also suited to you. How he was able to get your size right you're not sure. Regardless, it fits you perfectly, and there's even an opening at the back for your wings, though you've already willed it away, still you appreciate the sentiment.

“Are you done honey?” a knock reverberates in the room and you answer with a ‘come in!’. Rosie does and is pleasantly surprised at the lack of wings on your back. You remember the coat left in the bathroom and grab it, shrugging it on to cover the exposed skin and bandages.

The cannibal guides you to the vanity, starting to brush your hair.

“So you're Al’s little angel hm? How’d he manage to catch such a cutie pie?” The woman's Boston accent grabs your attention from the various tools in front of you.

“Well… As he said earlier I’ve been assigned to him as his spouse haha…” you laugh awkwardly,”but enough about me! How about Alastor…What is he like?”

“Oh! He’s such a sweetheart! Well he is an Overlord, he eats other demons, and kills for fun, but don't you worry about that! You're his darling, he wouldn't do anything to harm you. You're in good claws sweetie.”

“Sorry, what???”

“Hm?”

Rosie just smiles at you before finishing up your look. And might you say, looking at the mirror you look absolutely breathtaking. Coming out of the room, you find Alastor in the kitchen cooking. The smell wafting around the house is magnificent, you are reminded how hungry you are after falling from heaven.

“There you are my dear, I made some Jambalaya for you! My momma always said once I got my own cherie I should always provide for them for the rest of our days. So, expect more of this dear,” the man hums an upbeat tune as he gives you a plate of the food.

Adorably, he wears a yellow apron that says ‘Deer-est cook’ at the front, you also notice that he had his hair up with a ribbon in a low ponytail.

You were excited to consume the meal right in front of you but then you remember where in hell you are now.

“...Did you put demon meat in the Jambalaya…?”,eyes glancing up at him, the question lingers in the air as he catches your eyes and stares back, still smiling. A few unnerving seconds pass before he answers with a ‘of course not!’

You breathe out in relief and trust your so-called ‘husband’.

Or maybe I shouldn't trust what he says, but he's still staring, what if he gets angry that I won't eat it?? Oh heavens, please forgive me.

With closed eyes, you finally bite down on the food. Praying to all things holy, hoping that you did not do anything blasphemous by accidentally eating demon meat, you find yourself pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was. You almost forget proper etiquette when you start ravenously gulping down the rest of the food.

The demon before you chuckles in delight at the sight of you enjoying your food. As much as he would like to feed you his exotic diet, he would rather not force you to do anything you don't want to. And oh…the pleased shiver that ran down his spine at the trust you've shown him by not questioning him any further regarding the meal was truly delicious.

Dear angel… MY dear angel. How perfect you are… I'll never let you go. After all, you were made for me weren't you?

“I forgot to tell you how absolutely darling you are in that outfit! I must say I have quite the taste! Haha!” he laughs at his joke,“might I ask where your wings are? I could’ve sworn it was there when I left! Unless you cut it off? You should’ve asked me though, I’m sure your wings would be a delicacy…”

“I was able to hide it, I don’t want to be a walking target you know? An angel down in hell seems like a bad thing to be.”

“Oh don’t worry about being a target! I’ll kill whoever tries to even look at you wrongly,” crooning at you, he brushes away invisible dust on his coat, “also you may keep my coat dear, it’ll be a good way to show people that you belong to me now, that is until I can find a ring worthy enough to be worn by you!”

“I-uh thank you…”

Crap. If I don't escape soon I'll be officially married to him. Then again…if he keeps cooking me good food I guess it won't be too bad…

With that in mind, you hope your future will be brighter than your descent to hell.

A/N GODDD THAT TOOK SO LONG. Honestly, the more people kept asking for part 2 the less inclined I was to actually make one but here I am.

That being said, I will be making more fics at my own pace. Finals is coming up so please do not expect new parts for this fic. Truth is ITS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS! It was merely an idea I had while I was in an art block. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed it :DD

(I unfortunately do not do taglists)

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Divider by @/cafekitsune

#yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader

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avocad1s · 8 months

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Trial By Combat - 2

Requested By: No One. Original Work.

CW: Impostor SAGAU, Mentions of Punishment, Angst,

Summary: Fontaine fears for your fate.

Note: You all really loved the first part and a lot of people wanted a continuation so I shall provide

If you haven’t finished the Fontaine Archon quest, please exit stage left.

Part One Part Three Part Four

Ever since the day of the duel, it has been raining nonstop in Fontaine.

It was as if the entire nation came to a standstill; many shops refused to open their doors, no trials were being held, and the Hydro Archon hadn't been seen since she falsely accused the Creator of Teyvat.

As doctors quickly carried you away with Clorinde following quickly behind, citizens waited impatiently for any news of your recovery, this sight of you bleeding profusely still plaguing their minds.

The Champion Duelist refused to leave your side even after doctors did everything they could, she sat in the chair waiting for the moment you open your eyes. She wonders what you will do once you do wake up, could you find it in your heart to forgive her? To forgive Fontaine entirely? Regardless what you decide, she is ready to accept it graciously.

Clorinde looks down at her gloved hands, the white cloth that was stained with your golden blood only a week ago. This was the second time she had struck down an innocent, was this the justice she was fighting for? Even if it meant painting the floor with her Creator’s blood? She lets out a sigh as she looks back at your sleeping form, the pattering of rain on the window doing nothing to ease the swirl of emotions within her chest.

Although everyone was praying for you to have a speedy recovery, there were some people who demanded answers from their Archon.

“She is supposed to be the God of Justice.”

“How could she not recognize the Creator themselves?”

Focalors refused to show her face in public, she had no answers for her actions, this wasn’t something she could lie about until everyone believed her. This was something that could have true consequences, she couldn’t even be angry if her fellow Archons came to stike her down due to her transgressions.

Only during the dark of night is when she went outside, even though Clorinde had been watching over you this entire time, she had to see how you were doing with her own eyes. Furina kneels by your bed and grasps your hand, she weeps out heartfelt apologies until she couldn’t any longer.

Suddenly she picks her head up, she wipes the wetness from her cheeks as she looks at your face.

“Your Grace?” She says softly, the exaggerated tone no where to be found.

Your hand moves slightly in hers and now she knows she wasn’t hallucinating, “are you awake?” Your eyes open slowly causing the Archon to cry even more as she stands to look at you better.

The door to the room opens as Clorinde and Neuvillette enter, their eyes just as wide as their Archons. The two rush to your side as you try to sit up in bed a rush of pain coursing through your body.

“You should be careful Your Grace,” Clorinde mutters, “we don’t want you to tear open your stitches.”

“Why am I here?” You manage to rasp out gazing at all of their faces. Neuvillette grabs the glass of water next to your bed handing it to you, the water was room temperature, but it was still refreshing to drink.

Furina, who was the most expressive out of the three furrows her eyebrows, “huh? What do you mean?”

“I should’ve died out there..” you mumble. Clorinde looks down in shame.

“I’m apologize Your Grace,” Furina says still holding your hand, “I am a fool, I should’ve recognized you the second you entered Fontaine but instead I…” she trails off.

You stare at her, the look on her face showing just how remorseful she felt, but you couldn’t forgive her. You couldn’t forgive any of them. Not yet at least.

“You gave me no chance to explain myself, I was guilty in your eyes the second I entered your nation.” You pull your hand out of hers causing her to frown slightly.

“I thought that something was amiss but-“

“Then why didn’t you come to my defense? You knew there was no way I could win but you still did nothing. You made no attempt to stop the fight.” You interrupt Neuvillette.

He stops mid-sentence, his nonchalant expression never changing as he fails to meet your gaze. “I’m sorry.”

You throw the blanket off your body, the cold air causing goosebumps to appear on your exposed legs.

“Your Grace it’s not a good idea to stand! Your wounds are still healing.”

You ignore Clorinde’s warnings as you stumble to your feet, your hand rests on your torso to ease the throbbing sensation in it.

“All of you leave, I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.” You say coldly.

“Please allow us to help you back in bed.” Furina reaches out to place her hand on your shoulder.

“I can take care of myself, just get out.” You snap.

The Archon flinches slightly but she nods and sighs. Without any other objections, Clorinde and Neuvillette leave the room. Furina trails slowly behind them, as she reaches the threshold she looks back at you one last time before whispering, "I will return to see you in the morning, I hope that's okay."

Once the door clicks you turn your gaze to the window noticing that it was still raining, maybe even harder than before. You exhale as you sit on the windowsill resting your body against the glass as you watch the droplets race down onto the ledge outside.

‘Hmm, doesn't look like the rain is gonna stop anytime soon…’ you think to yourself.

Tagging: @bittersweetorpheus @esthelily

#genshin cult au #sagau #genshin impact sagau #imposter sagau #genshin sagau #sagau impostor au #sagau x reader #genshin cult

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unluckiestmember · 5 months

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Mizu (Blue Eye Samurai) X GN! Reader

Characters: Mizu from "Blue Eye Samurai"

Tags: Acquittances to Lovers, doubtful thoughts, overprotectiveness, training/practicing, fluff and breaking down walls/layers.

Warning: SFW

A/N: I can't recommend this enough; PLEASE go check out Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix. It definitely is a great series when it comes to character development and story telling. If you're as big of a fan of Arcane as me, give it a watch.

When it comes to Mizu, you have to crack her outer shell to see her true nature.

She’s like a wild animal; Impossible to tame, but when done the results are breathtaking and beautiful.

At first, Mizu thought nothing of you.

You were just another citizen strolling about Japan. An obstacle.

So it comes as no surprise that she ignored you in favor of continuing her journey of revenge.

But you were as persistent as she was.

And the more battles you two encountered, the more injuries were carried.

The more injuries carried, the more you had to care for one another.

And the more care that was poured into each wound, the more both of you filled up with affection for one another.

When you knocked down Mizu’s walls, you pushed past the oni and found a beautiful and strong woman.

Mizu’s demeanor softens considerably around you, favoring playful banter over sarcastic insults.

She offers to teach you how to fight like a samurai. Or at least like herself.

Sometimes she’ll go overboard training.

But she’ll always tend to any wounds she gives you.

Expect a bandaging up with the briefest of kisses onto your lips afterwards.

Inside and outside of combat, Mizu is overprotective of your wellbeing.

She’s lost everyone on her journey and she’d be damned if she lost you too.

Sometimes she will have the thoughts of her “oni ways” trying to persuade her that you’re like everyone else.

When this happens, reassure her you’re not going anywhere.

She will reassure you of the same.

Love has given Mizu a second chance. Life’s given Mizu a second chance.

Though she doesn’t feel she deserves it, she will not throw it away.

She will not throw you away.

She used to fight for revenge over honor, but now she fights for you.

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader #fluff headcanons #fluff imagine #x reader #requests are welcome #requests are still open btw #requests are open #blue eye samurai netflix

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haunted-xander · 3 months

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I think one of the (several) reason for why Shadowbringers is so good is because the narrative is more about the individual characters than it is the Greater Conflict.

Like, the Greater Conflict is definitely there, obviously, it's what keeps the story going, but the focus is always on the people, much more so than the other expacs. HW and STB also have some level of character focus ofc, but it's very selective and even then the focus is based on them in the specific context of the current conflict.

But in SHB, the story bends around the characters' narratives, rather than the other way around. The story forms to put them in situations that challenges their flaws and limitations, by forcing them to confront it and actually deal with it. Even just at the very beginning, you see the twins being dealt a terrible hand that very neatly clashes against their faults.

Alisaie is confronted with a situation that she can and could never do anything about. She has no means to help the patients (at the time at least). The only way for her to help them is by eradicating the source of the affliction itself: the Light. But the Light isn't just some Big Bad she can kill and be done with. Even when all the lightwardens are down the Light is still there, it's just more manageable. Alisaie learns to not only see the bigger picture, but to care for it for her own reasons. For all that she has participated in Big Operations, it has always been because that's what others were doing, what others cared for to be done. She feels for the people of Doma and Ala Mhigo, but she didn't set out to liberate their homelands because she has any personal investment in it. But other people do, and she cares about what other people- be they strangers or friends- care about.

Caring about other peoples feelings and opinions isn't a flaw by itself of course, but doing things without any sense of personal purpose, is. This is what SHB helps her fix and confront, because it is personal now, she does it because she cares.

Alphinaud is forced into a situation where diplomacy and negotiations does and would never work. He can't talk himself into Eulemore, and he sure as hell can't convince Vauthry or the free citizens to let go of their life of ignorant luxury. The problem here also isn't as straightforward as a corrupt ruler, because even after Vauthry is revealed for the bastard he is, it takes considerable effort and convincing to get them to get off their asses and get to work. It's one thing to change the minds of people who wanted the same outcome just in a different way (like Ishgard- they rejected unity with the dragons, but they still wanted an end to the war), but it's another thing entirely to convince people that another way of life is even worth it.

And this is what SHB teaches Alphinaud, that words and deeds can achieve much, but that there is much more to diplomacy than appealing to their wants and/or sensibilities to convince them of an alternative outcome. His development may not be as immediately noticable as some of the others (largely bc he had a lot of it already from HW), but it is still very much there.

Urianger's development had already been build up and sort-of started already, but we don't really get to see it until it near explodes in his face after we kill Vauthry. Even after he swore off secrecy, he's forced to confront his morals when the Exarch bids his assistance. Urianger has always been looking at the greater picture, to the point he'd almost lose himself in it if it wasn't for the overwhelming guilt he feels. He works with the Exarch, because he knows he's the only one capable of it, and he hates the very fact that he is. When the climax of the plan is about to be executed, he is pained to the point that even he can't mask it anymore. He has betrayed their trust once more and once more it will result in the death of a friend.

But it doesn't, and that's what's needed for him to confront himself. As terrible and unexpected as the circumstances around it was, it did show him that there are other ways. There is no one way to solve a problem, the first choice doesn't need to be the only one. And he would find those other ones of he had just talked to the others.

The pay-off doesn't quite come until EW, where we see him actively make the choice to go against his first instinct of acquiesing to the Loporrits' plans, and instead chooses to consult us, but that scene wouldn't have made sense or even happened had it not been for his development in SHB.

Now, Y'shtola is a bit of an odd one because while she does get her due focus, she doesn't quite get the same amount of development as the others. Rather, it shows how she thrives when not held back by others interests and (often somewhat needless) bounderies. Her intelligence and charisma have the chance to shine, her independence and confidence now rewarded rather than punished. In ARR, she is constantly annoyed by the Maelstroms way of dealing with things, and how no one bothers to actually listen to her. Her advice and reprimands are almost entirely ignored until the problem blows up in their faces and they have no choice but to concede that she was right.

Being independent and confident aren't flaws by themselves, but her sometimes aggressive approaches to telling others off does her few favors. In SHB, she has the Night's Blessed who actually heed her word and respect her, they listen to her and actually take what she says- be it advise or reprimand- to heart.

She does also, however, have to deal with Thancred who, much like the Maelstrom, ignores her reprimands and doesn't listen to her. The difference here is that her bluntness actually serves a purpose. In ARR, her bluntness lacks tact and meaning, simply a result of frustration. The Maelstrom won't listen to someone who doesn't come up with fleshed-out arguments and solutions, but Y'shtola doesn't bother giving them any until she knows they'll listen. But with Thancred, she does give him the solution. It's just that the solution is him. His words, to be precise, and his acceptance. And he needs to be reminded of that, and she does. It doesn't automatically solve anything, but that's simply how it is with complicated situations like that.

Speaking of Thancred, his narrative is probably the most important of all for SHB. He's always been shown as a capable, but ultimately self-destructive man who genuinely does not know how to deal with himself in a healthy manner. Theoretically speaking he knows, he recognizes that he is self-destructive, but he still has no idea how to actually fix it. It's been shown as early as ARR when it results in him getting possessed, but it's not really made a point of until it almost ruins his relationship with Ryne. Up until now he could just ignore his problems, but with Ryne he can't because now The Problem(s) aren't just his anymore. Anything that would hurt him now would also hurt her, meaning that if he wants to continue doing the one thing he actually cares about (protecting his loved ones) then he needs to get his shit together.

But Thancred doesn't know how to. And for all that his friends try and try to help him, he doesn't know how to. He's paralyzed. Thancred is so deep into his self-destructive habits that it takes the threat of both his and the person(s) he loves the most in the worlds deaths to get him into action. He doesn't know if it's Minfilia or Ryne who will return, and I'm not sure he expected to survive Ran'jit. He only has this chance, and if he wants to die without (as many) regrets he has to do something now.

And he does. He does and what it is he does is tell Ryne that whatever happens, it has to be her own choice. That he will accept any outcome, that he will still care about her no matter what, that as long as she lives or dies as she wants to, that he still loves her. He still loves her. And it works, because that's what he's needed to do all this time, to be able to just tell her that she matters. That he cares.

He tells her to live her own life, and he learns to live his own too.

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mondothebombo · 5 months

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✨Small Canon Things in Ninjago That Aren’t Necessarily Important to the Plot, but Important to Me Pt 2✨

(in honor of the first post reaching 2.5k notes)

1. the reason the ninja can’t summon their elemental dragons anymore is bc they’re too traumatized

2. Kai takes laxatives

3. Lloyd felt responsible for Nya’s sacrifice

4. Morro took a shot while he was in Lloyd’s body

5. Cole’s favorite color is orange

6. Chamille, the master of form, is a “bad girl” post s4

7. the ninja were literal children when they waltzed into Chen’s tournament and proceeded to beat all the adult EMs in the competition

8. prior to seabound, Nya resented her parents for not being there in her childhood, her mother more so than her father (✨mommy issues✨)

9. Nya is hyper-independent as a result of her childhood; while Kai is more openly accepting to his parents because he has a better memory of them

10. Wu was close enough with Lilly that he could remember whether or not she wore a necklace

11. Cliff Gordon was a “womanizer”

12. Lloyd didn’t naturally hit puberty until s8

13. Cole and Jay are best friends

14. whether or not you see Pixane as a bf/gf situation in canon, they are canonically soulmates

15. Jay has not yet received his inheritance letter

16. at least up until the Merge, Zane’s statue is still in downtown Ninjago City

17. ninjago citizens are fully aware their only protection are six super-powered teens/young adults

18. the ninja are still famous, public figures

19. Jay is the only ninja who hasn’t died (yet)

20. despite being a terrible actor, Lloyd is always sent on the undercover missions

21. the ninja are on first name basis with each others parents

22. Cole’s favorite genre of music is soft rock

23. Zane has selective memory

24. after Nya’s sacrifice, each ninja depicted a different stage of grief (Zane-Denial, Kai-Anger, Lloyd-Depression, Jay-Bargaining, and Cole-Acceptance)

25. Cole never actually had feelings for Nya, he was just flattered by the attention and petty about Jay being mad at him

26. elements react based on the master’s emotions

27. Jay is so emotionally dependent on being around other people that he loses his mind when he’s alone for too long

28. Lloyd had a chat with god and wasn’t impressed

29. Cole’s snoring can be heard throughout the monastery

30. Nya is not a morning person

31. Kai and Skylor have been in a situationship since s4

32. Lloyd being the grandson of god is not common knowledge

33. the group of civilians that were on the bounty when Cole fell are probably the only ones who truly realize the danger the ninja put themselves in on the regular to protect the city, and how close they are with each other

34. Wu didn’t want to tell the ninja about the green ninja prophecy because he was afraid of having a repeat of Morro

35. since s8 at the very least, the ninja all shared a room on the bounty until the monastery was rebuilt

36. Jay’s confidence in his own abilities fully depends on what others believe he’s capable of

37. several villains have called the ninja out on being “just a bunch of kids,” and then proceeded to get their shit rocked by said kids

38. the overlord can gloat to Lloyd all he wants to in crystallized, but fact of the matter is Lloyd defeated him when he was like twelve

39. Kai and Nya raised and took care of each other, it wasn’t just Kai doing all of the work

40. Kai is two years older than Nya

41. Zane’s biggest fear is losing his humanity

42. Lloyd’s biggest fear is becoming his father

43. Nya’s biggest fear is losing her individuality

44. Cole’s biggest fear is letting his family down

45. we the audience are the only ones who see the characters as legos; they’re real people in-universe

46. Kai likes spicy food

47. while elemental masters are immune to their elements to some extent, their elements can also be shown to hurt them in some circumstances

and as always, feel free to add on!!

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #mondo’s metas #my hcs #mondo’s hcs #ninjago jay #ninjago nya #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd #ninjago zane #ninjago wu #ninjago dragons rising spoilers #kinda

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icyminghao · 10 months

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happy (first) fathers’ day

pairing: dad!mingyu x fem!reader genre: fluff, idol!mingyu warning(s): food mentions word count: 955

summary: it’s fathers’ day, but you seem to be more fixated on an event for your newborn daughter, much to mingyu’s dismay.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mingyu asks with a hopeful tone, following you around like a lost puppy as you pace around the house looking for your things.

“I am?” you turn to face him and tilt your head in confusion, and if Mingyu wasn’t so focused on getting you to remember that today is Fathers’ Day, he would have been cooing at how cute you were being. “Oh! The car keys, thanks baby.”

Mingyu sighs. This is his first Fathers’ Day, how could you forget?

“No, the day, love, what day is it?” Mingyu presses on, following you as you go into your shared bedroom to grab the car keys.

“It’s Sunday, and I’m going to be late for my lunch get-together,” you reply matter-of-factly. “take care of Minhee while I’m gone, okay? Remember to take her to the baby event later, it’s extremely important.”

Wow, so you remember a mere baby event but not his first Fathers’ Day? Mingyu sulks, but nods anyway. You beam up at him, planting a chaste kiss on his lips before hastily getting out of the house, leaving Mingyu to sulk on his own.

He doesn’t get to sulk much, though, because Minhee starts crying from her nursery shortly after you leave.

Mingyu sighs. At least Minhee knows it’s Fathers’ Day and wants to spend time with her adoring father.

“Why are you so upset?” Minseo, Mingyu’s little sister, laughs in disbelief as she continues to play with Minhee, absolutely smitten by her cute antics. “She probably forgot, being so busy and all.”

“It’s my first Fathers’ Day! It’s a huge milestone for the both of us, but she’s literally acting like this baby event is more important. You’re literally here for the baby event, too!”

Minseo simply giggles as he whines about the situation. “Well, the baby event is important.”

Mingyu lets out a grumble in response, gently grabbing Minhee from Minseo’s arms to put her in the baby carrier.

“Wow, Gyu, you’re looking like a real dad,” Minseo muses, and Mingyu feels his heart swell with pride. “anyway, we’ve got to leave now or we’ll be late!”

Damn the stupid baby event for taking the spotlight away from him like that.

As Mingyu settles into the passenger seat of Minseo’s car (since you very hurriedly left the house with your shared car, much to Mingyu’s dismay) with Minhee safely settled into the baby carrier, he realises he has no idea where the baby event is being held at. Minseo, however, types in the address into her GPS with ease, and Mingyu can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.

“Hey, how do you know where the event’s held at?” Mingyu asks, suspicion laced in his words.

Minseo smiles sheepishly. “Um, y/n gave it to me this morning? Didn’t she tell you?”

Furrowing his brows, Mingyu leans over to look at the address on Minseo’s GPS and frowns. “Why is the baby event being held at Seungcheol’s cafe? Are you kidnapping me?”

“No, Gyu, why are you asking so many questions? You’ll see when we get there,” Minseo replies evasively. Mingyu narrows his eyes at her, but makes no move to continue pushing for details.

“I didn’t know Seungcheol was working with the community center,” Mingyu grumbles.

“Yeah, well, he’s certainly a model citizen,” Minseo laughs, attempting to lighten the mood.

They arrive at Seungcheol’s cafe after about ten minutes, and Mingyu notices the relative emptiness of the cafe immediately. The inside of the cafe that Mingyu is able to see through the glass windows is decorated, yes, but there isn’t a single soul inside.

“Are you sure the event is here? There’s nobody inside,” Mingyu calls for his sister after getting out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

“Yeah, it is,” Minseo replies, “you go in first, I gotta check something.”

Mingyu narrows his eyes at his sister in suspicion, about to question her avoiding tone, but Minhee chooses this moment to start babbling in the baby carrier.

“Okay, Minnie, let’s go in, hm?” Mingyu coos, hugging Minhee close to him as he opens the door to the cafe and steps in.

“Surprise!” Mingyu jolts at the sudden cacophony of screams, eyes widening as he watches all his friends bolt out of the kitchen.

“What’s this?” Mingyu asks, extremely confused.

“Happy Fathers’ Day, baby,” he turns around at the familiar voice to be met with your figure holding up a cake in front of him, Minseo standing beside you with a huge smile on her face.

Mingyu breaks into a dopey smile. “You didn’t forget.”

“Of course I didn’t forget, baby, it’s your first Fathers’ Day!” you exclaim, setting the cake down on the nearest table before extending your arms out to him. Mingyu gingerly removes the baby carrier and passes Minhee to an eager Minseo before taking you in his arms.

“Thank you,” he lifts you up and spins you around a few times, heart full with love for you. You beam at him as he spins you around, returning his love-filled gaze on you.

“I think you’re forgetting that we helped plan this too, Mingu,” Seungcheol clears his throat. Mingyu puts you down slowly and takes a look at all his bandmates smiling back at him.

“Thanks, guys, I seriously don’t know what I did to deserve you all.” Mingyu gratefully sighs. His bandmates break out into a series of “Aw, Mingyu” and “We love you”s, and Mingyu tries his hardest to commit every single detail of the day to his memory.

“Alright, enough with the sappiness, let’s eat!” Seungkwan’s voice booms through the cafe, and everyone bursts into laughter.

Taking in the sight before him, Mingyu sighs blissfully.

He’s so loved.

a/n: mingyu as a girl dad just makes me giggle like a schoolgirl in love i’m sorry

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises

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kaeyachi · 6 days

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some kaeya facts that i want to remind everyone with because I miss him so much! (no angst this time i swear!!...but if you all want angst, I could also deliver hehehe)

1. Kaeya tells the children of Mondstadt some stories! Specifically, one that some forgot or didn't know of is that he has told the orphans under the church's care some horror story about the light in the lamp posts :D He had been shown to do a story telling to Klee while at the Veluriyam Mirage and he has also been reading to Klee her bedtime stories as well

2. Kaeya made Klee's survival rules! Kaeya has definitely done his part on preventing Klee from destroying Mondstadt before Celestia ever could (well, at least lessened the amount of times Mond gets bombed anyway). Anyone else think Kaeya purposely let Klee explode the Good Hunter's stove to avoid going to the Chasm? No? Ok-

3. He takes the attention when he dances! Depending on which language you hear it from, it is either a good or a bad thing. However, I am on team good thing simply because some mercenaries invited him to go dancing with them while he was in Sumeru ( very interesting information, Kaeya! Glad to know they found you so attractive that they did something they don't usually do!)

4. If you call him kind, he will attempt to look mean (and he fails at it lmao), and if he is not being mean, he will try to deny it. The traveler once listed down the kind things he had done for Captain Wu, a Liyue npc, and Kaeya proceeds to tell us that he records people who owe him (which is a lie. He forgot the person he helped TWICE. What he does have a record of is a well-detailed list of Treasure Hoarders and their rankings + patrol areas in Mondstadt). Another instance was during Jean's story quest where Kaeya planned the appreciation party for Jean where he gave the traveler all the credit

5. He is a great gift giver! (unless that person is Diluc because otherwise he will find the ugliest thing ever and gift that... arguably, that kinda sounds like amazing gift giving if we are talking about being an annoying sibling). He remembers passing commentary from friends and coworkers and gifts them accordingly.

6. He has his own intel network (and I'm theorizing that it is just a group of people he has helped before that insisted on paying him back in this way). Kaeya, after some heavy insistence from Captain Wu, asks him if he wants to be a friend or be part of his intel network and follow his commands no matter what. Vile, one of his known informants, also gave us a glimpse as to what it takes to be part of Kaeya's network, and that is the ability to decipher codes and read messages in between.

7. He is incredibly reliable as a knight! Not only do the people of Mondstadt agree that he is the more approachable cavalry captain between him and Diluc, but it is also a known fact that Kaeya has never failed to complete a mission to date (except the one during Diluc's 18th). Nearly every citizen of Mondstadt adores him and knows how reliable he is. Arguably, this success rate could be attributed to his "end justifies the means" mindset that not all find enjoyable, but he is definitely the person to ask if you want something done. Vile has once mentioned that she could just ask Kaeya to do the charming and convincing for her, dubbing him as a prince charming for it.

8. He is one of the people who spends so much time with Klee (potentially attributed by the fact that he also has more free time compared to others). He spends so much time with her that Klee mentions a few interesting things about Kaeya, such as the fact that Albedo draws Kaeya frequently (enough times that Albedo says Kaeya could be drawn by him easily. yes, it's that "three strokes" line lmao) and the fact that Kaeya has saved Klee from solitary confinement a lot. He is shown to be a very effective person when it comes to corralling Klee without making her feel bad as even when he was trying to berate her, he still ended up giving her a possible reward if she listens.

9. He is very meticulous. He willingly spends the time to get himself ready in the clothes that he is wearing, and he likes embellishments. He really is quite the perfectionist in his actions as well. (very Alberich of him!✌️) We can also see this in his handwriting that has been described as "beautiful" and again with his near perfect track record as a knight.

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeyachi back at it again with the kaeya talk because they cant be stopped

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cheeseanonioncrisps · 1 year

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So like, it's okay to be good and nobody is born evil and anyone can change the path they're on, yadda yadda yadda, but I actually think one of the biggest lessons Megamind learns over the course of the film is the shocking revelation that actions have consequences.

I'm not even kidding. When you put aside the whole 'evil' thing, one of Megamind's biggest flaws is his entirely screwed up notion of cause and effect.

Like, the whole reason the plot happens is because it apparently never occurred to Megamind that 'carrying out elaborate plots to kill Metroman' could ever result in 'dead Metroman'. Nor that creating a new hero with the specific motivation of defeating him, Megamind, could lead to negative consequences for him, Megamind. Or that riling said hero up into a murderous rage could have the unforeseen consequence of that hero raging around murderously.

Dude spent at least a few years kidnapping Roxanne, threatening her with alligators and lasers and various other villainous knick-knacks, only to disguise himself as somebody else and lie to her until she fell in love with this fake identity he'd created and is genuinely shocked when she is upset upon finding this out.

Not just that she did find out, but that post-her finding out he is unable to talk her into continuing the relationship.

“We don't judge a book by its cover or a person by their appearance… we judge them based on their actions.”

“Seems kinda petty, don't you think?”

Megamind may be a genius when it comes to inventions and evil plans, but he's a fucking idiot when it comes to predicting and anticipating the obvious results of his actions.

And thing is, it makes total sense why he would be like that.

He spent his childhood being consistently punished by the adults in his life, often for no reason that he could understand or even for no reason at all. As a result, he stops viewing punishment as a consequence of his behaviour and starts seeing it as a consequence of him being 'evil', which of course leads to him leaning into his evil persona and eventually becoming a supervillain.

And, as a supervillain, ironically enough, he's completely sheltered from consequence by his greatest enemy, Metroman.

Megamind doesn't need to worry about his evil plans hurting any citizens, because Metroman will use his powers to save them. Megamind doesn't have to worry about the damage he does to the city, because Metroman can fix it.

Megamind does in theory have to worry about social consequences for his behaviour, but the social consequences are being locked in prison and having everybody hate him which is like, the default status quo of his existence since he was a baby.

He literally calls the prison as 'home', a word he does not use to refer to his Evil Lair or indeed anywhere else in the film barring his home planet. Going there is an inconvenience, maybe, but it's not really a punishment. It's where he lives.

Metroman's 'death' changes all that.

Not only does one of Megamind's evil plans finally destroy something that (seemingly) can't be fixed, but he's then turned loose on the city with no superhero to run around after him cleaning up his mess.

Now, if he steals all the artwork in the gallery, then Metro City will no longer have artwork in it's gallery, and people (Roxanne) will miss it and be upset. If he doesn't take care to clean the streets then the streets… will be dirty, and people (Roxanne) will be negatively affected.

If he gives a random, unstable, person superpowers and then goes out of his way to piss that person off, then that person can't be guaranteed upon to “play the game” just because that's what Metroman did, and people (Megamind… then everybody else) will be negatively affected.

And the flipside of this is that, by the end of the film, he wins the battle because he realises "hey, I can change this". If his negative actions have negative consequences then he can choose to do the positive thing instead and save the city.

#megamind #megamind meta #megamind analysis

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sadesluvr · 18 days

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Sins of the Flesh

The one where a religious housewife fights temptation with her gardener.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: Second JJ fic! (I haven't forgotten about The Hills!!) This was based off of Charlotte & Trey’s marriage in Sex and the City, specifically the episode where she kisses her gardener! Also, based off Gaby & John in Desperate Housewives, but less weird. Reader is literally the both of them combined, with religious guilt turned up to 100. Check the tags before reading, and minors DNI.

This is a long one, so the ending is a little rushed…Enjoy!

Also credit to @starfxkr and @dulc3vida for their lamb! readers which was a big inspo 🫶🏼✨

Word Count: 5K

Tags: SMUT / Slow burn / Themes of religion / Blasphemy / Infidelity / Cuckolding / Religious guilt / Lots of discussion about pregnancy / Misogyny, kinda / Kook! Reader / Moments of soft! JJ / Unprotected sex / Oral sex, F receiving / Creampies / Corruption & Religion kink / Dirty talk (JJ is a yapper)

Gif by @cyberpunkes !

Your dreams always started off the same.

The sun peeked through the sheer linen curtains, warm rays tickling your nose as it whispered to you that dawn had arrived. Gently, you brushed the sleep away from your eyes as you writhed amongst your silk white sheets, morning breeze making your sensitive nipples harden ever so slightly. As you awoke from your slumber, you stroked the opposite side of your bed, frowning as you found it to be empty.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, glancing around the room in search of something familiar. The hand carved dresser in the opposite corner? Check. Your Bible on the nightstand? Check. The soft, distant cries of a baby from another room? Unfamiliar.

It was always then that you’d wake up, coming to realise that your dream wasn’t so far from reality after all.

You lived on Figure Eight, a place where only the wealthiest and most desirable citizens resided in white palaces with acres of greenery surrounding them. Of course you were no exception; having married an heir to an automotive company just under a year ago.

It wasn’t as if you were unfamiliar to a life of luxury - you’d been born a preacher's daughter right up until you’d become a wife - and had always been told that God had intended for you to be more fortunate than those around you. Yes, you worshipped the crucifix, but yours had always been diamond encrusted. It was just what God wanted.

Much more than anything else, it was your duty to continue his wish by remaining a virgin until you were married, and subsequently continuing the lineage with children of your own.

Apparently, that part did not come as easy.

Hank, your husband, had insisted that it was nothing more than a case of trying, yet at every turn seemed to fail. You’d begun to have a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t a problem on your end, but his, despite his growing insistence otherwise.

Each passing day meant that your biological clock ticked away, and it was weighing on you that you were failing at the one thing you’d given most of your life towards. On days like these, the only thing that brought you peace was your garden, its lush greens and vibrant purples reminding you of the hours spent at the community garden of the chapel of your fathers church.

Things, whilst relatively breezy, just weren’t so simple anymore.

Gasping, you tightened your baby pink robe around your body as you dragged yourself out of bed, hoping to at least greet Hank with a beverage before he went to work.

You practically glided through the house as you made your way along the mahogany floors, down the grand staircase and out of the double doors, careful not to fall down the porch steps as the slight humidity hit you.

Your husband was by the steps, but he didn’t seem alone.

“Honey, I’m sorry, I —-“

You paused once you realised he was speaking to someone. A young man, with blonde hair, a loose fitting tee and shorts, was sitting on the stairs - as if he were being told off - his face seemingly lethargic and uninterested. You caught his eye as he angled to face you, and he quickly adjusted his cap, shifting the brim around so that he could see you clearer.

You flashed him a brief, somewhat uncomfortable smile before you were pulled into a side hug, with Hank placing a kiss to your lips.

“You were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you,” Hank said softly. “We did get rather rowdy last night, didn’t we?” he murmured, and you patted his chest, not wanting an outsider to hear of such unsavoury things.

“This is the time, I feel it,” he announced before nodding at the blonde. “That’s why I’ve hired a gardener. Now I know you love your plants, and you can still go about the little things, but all that labour just isn’t going to work.” he told you. “We need you in top condition, especially once the baby arrives. The smallest things can affect our chances, you know.” he finished, and you nodded.

There was certainly no denying that Hank was a good husband. What man would want their young wife out in the North Carolina sun for upwards of two hours a day? Not to mention all of the wild plants that could’ve lurked. Even if you weren’t yet pregnant, it just made sense, right?

“I’ve given him a basic rate,” he said, adjusting his tie before lowering his voice. “Money’s on the table and our valuables are in the safe. He’s one of those Pogues…just watch him, you know how they are.” Hank warned quietly, but loud enough to assert dominance.

With a final kiss he was off, and you were left with the strange Pogue boy on the front porch. As odd as it sounded, perhaps the boy’s presence would be a blessing, for as much as you loved solitude, it was rather lonely at times. You supposed it would give you something to do.

“Blink twice if you need help,” a cool voice said, causing you to whip your head towards it. You hadn’t noticed that the blonde had been staring at you, nor that you’d been momentarily zoned out.

“Kidding, I know how you Kooks operate…” he said, vaguely judgmental as he stood to his feet. Even though he was on the step below you, you couldn’t help but notice that he was bigger than you, in height and muscle, making you step back in shock and bunching your robe up in your hands.

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Lady. I’m just here for the money. ‘Names JJ by the way,” he said, and you were surprised to see him stick out his hand.

Regaining your senses, you shook it back, giving him your name and a soft smile. He didn’t respond, instead allowing for a smirk to appear across his face before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“So, uh, where d’ya want me to start?”

༼ ♰ ༽

The first time you’d had an unsavoury encounter with JJ Maybank had actually been later that day. The boy hadn’t been shy - in the slightest - about staring at you, peeking over the bushes as he watched you prune your bonsai on the deck, face as close as possible to its leaves as you made sure it was immaculate. Unfortunately, this had meant that you were hunched over, giving the blonde a view of the top of your cleavage; not enough to be considered adulterous, but enough to tempt him into some lewd thoughts.

You’d made eye contact with him, and he’d made no effort to break it with yours, instead smirking and flashing you a disingenuous nod. Pursing your lips, you remembered the look in his eye; as if he were trying to figure you out and yet simultaneously seeing right through you. Being a preacher's daughter, it was a look you’d been given a thousand times before, and yet you’d never been so unsure of its intentions until now. Perhaps it was because he was a Pogue boy, and you were a Kook housewife, alone in a house together whilst your husband was at least an hour away. You’d heard all the stories about their savagery; how life in The Cut was so brutal that everyone was on edge, just waiting for an opportunity to go off.

What was JJ capable of? Would you be a good enough wife and Catholic to withstand it?

More importantly, why did it worry you so?

“...The bush is lovely, by the way.”

His voice drew you from your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” you blinked.

“Your bush,” JJ said with a grin, pointing to the plant in front of you. “It’s all nice and shit. It’s trimmed perfectly,” he mused. “Either you’ve got a lot of time or you just have magic hands…That’s because of all your Jesus stuff, right?”

You sucked in a breath.

“I adore plants,” you said rather bluntly. “They keep me busy.”

“Funny. I usually prefer to smoke mine…I guess you don’t have much going on anyway,” he continued, dropping the hedge scissors to his side as he stopped his motions, giving you his full attention. “Other than what? Look pretty and have babies? You Kooks are swimming in so much you don’t even know where to begin —“

“Are you rather done?” You interjected, ignoring the fact that he’d complimented you. “We’re not paying you to talk.”

JJ chuckled and scratched the back of his head, seemingly enjoying your outburst.

“Hey,” he shrugged. “What your old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

༼ ♰ ༽

The other time came after a particularly strenuous lunch with Hank’s parents at the country club. As expected, you were met with the question of grandchildren, to which all you could do was nod and drink your sweet tea, insisting that you were “praying to God”. Of course, that wasn’t an entire lie within itself, but the nature of your prayer was much more defamatory to their very son - something that would make your father’s head spin with utter disgust if he’d ever heard. All of the trying, near misses and downright failures were beginning to take a toll on you, and the deepest, most hidden parts of yourself were questioning whether you wanted a baby at all.

Sighing, you remembered how you barely had had a break, as the moment you’d taken your heels off JJ had arrived - surprisingly on time - ready to get to work. It had seemed like he’d just come from the beach; his signature cap jumbled around his blonde locks and his button up rather undone, exposing his toned chest. Whether it had been from the droplets of the ocean, or beads of sweat from the long journey up, you found yourself strangely enticed by the condensation on his chest, only visible when illuminated by the sun, as if it were his own spotlight.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” JJ nodded, flashing you one of his signature cheeky smiles. You mustered a soft, vaguely curt smile, instead taking interest in his necklace.

“Shark tooth,” he said, watching you with wide eyes. “I think it’s pretty cool, but I don’t think it would match with your getup…Those things eat girls like you alive,” he finished, running his tongue over his lips as he let out a smooth hum.

Surprisingly, you laughed.

“I’m not a girl, JJ,” you insisted. “I’m a woman,”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, shifting his weight as he glanced at you, a distant, but glossy look in his eye. “You may be married, but you’re still just a little girl playing make-believe…You and I both know something’s missing.” he finished assuredly, cocking a brow knowingly.

Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek and shook your head.

“Nothing’s missing,” you said through gritted teeth. “And even if it were, it’s between me and my husband.”

“And God?”

You tutted.

“And God.”

You could hear him chuckle at this, and imagined his cheeky smile as you turned to make your way into the house, with JJ following after you, parting off into the garden as you disappeared into another room.

You didn’t know how long later; perhaps thirty minutes or five, but you found yourself by the window to the back door, watching JJ through the sheer curtains as you took in his physique, specifically his lithe fingers and firm grip as they pushed the lawnmower. For some reason, he’d stripped his shirt off, and there was no denying that the sight was making you forget about your terrible afternoon, much more causing a tingling in your loins. You knew all too well that it was the feeling of sin.

Distracted, you hadn’t realised that JJ had caught you looking. He grinned, nodding his head in your erection before he hunched over the handle, flexing his chest muscles in the process.

“I hope you don’t mind, it's pretty hot out here,” he shrugged, a brazen glimmer in his eye before he glanced down at his body, and back up at you. “Plus, I know you liked the look of my necklace, so…”

༼ ♰ ༽

“This is the third smoke sesh you’ve almost missed,” John B said, brow raised as Sarah nodded. “What’s up with that?”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down on a chair next to Pope and leisurely cracked open a beer. Around him were faces of intrigue; though more concerned if anything (given his nature), and he tapped an index finger on his lips.

“Getting some of that sweet Kook cash, my friend,” he drawled. “You all should try it sometime,”

“Since when do you work overtime?” Kie snorted, cocking her head.

“Since the day I found out that the business dude's wife is a total MILF,” JJ shrugged, rolling a blunt. “And she’s not even pregnant yet!”

Kie and Sarah scoffed and rolled their eyes, with the tanned girl flicking her hair back before she spoke.

“You know she’s only like, 26, 27? Hank’s like 45 or something, it’s kinda weird…” Sarah said leisurely. “She seems sweet though, even if all the other wives are weird about her,”

JJ excitedly slapped the table before raising his hands in victory.

“So I’m in!” He declared before turning to Pope, who was, if not a little uncomfortable, certainly wide eyed. “I’m telling you, man, say the word and I can get you in on this. It’s like those movies, y’know? Except it’s way hotter because she’s like super religious and is practically a virgin…You should see the dresses she wears - oh, man - they’re like all girly and proper…She’s like the First Lady, bro — I’m telling you, I’m like, in love with her —“

Pope shook his head.

“...That’s not love, dude.”

“It’s gotta be, cause we haven’t even hooked up yet,”

“Yet? She’s married!” Kie exclaimed.

“Marriage doesn’t mean shit, trust me,” JJ shrugged, leaning back as his legs bounced uncontrollably. “I’m this close!” he said, making a motion with his fingers.

“Hank will literally kill you!” Pope spluttered. “And by de facto that probably means us too!”

JJ shrugged, thinking of the way the sweetheart neckline of your sundresses clung to your chest and rode ever so slightly up your thigh as you’d sit down.

“Hey, of all the ways I could die, that would definitely not be the worst,”

༼ ♰ ༽

“Did you take it properly?”

“Yes, Hank,” you sighed, masking your frustration as much as possible. “It’s negative. Perhaps we should wait a while, maybe a family isn’t part of our journey yet —“

“Nonsense,” he interrupted, wiping his hand across his mouth. “We’re inviting the pastor over this Sunday and we’re talking this out. It may be embarrassing but…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to him much longer. What more was there to say? You’d tried every diet, been to every specialist and had tried some rather strenuous positions in bed all to knock you up, and yet somehow it was still a problem on your end. Hank was a stubborn man, and no amount of prayer would change that.

Instead, you noticed JJ, leisurely cutting at your rose bush as he listened into your conversation, his head cocked and jaw clenched. He was dressed in one of his vests; the sides split dangerously low as they exposed his muscular arms and toned stomach, and you hated how much you wanted Hank to leave right there and then so he could peel it off and work shirtless. From your usual view by the window you never noticed how impressive his legs were either; how his calves curved perfectly as they rose up and disappeared into the material of his shorts, nor how they rode up slightly when he’d bend down, exposing his large thighs. He reminded you of all those boys - the ‘charlatans’ who, according to your father, only wanted you for one thing.

It was painfully ironic that this was the one thing you were craving.

Hank was still talking - though the subject had inexplicably changed - when you noticed that JJ was staring at his index finger, squeezing it as red liquid oozed from his fingertip. Your eyes widened, and you seized the opportunity to finally send Hank away.

“Bandages are in the bathroom under the stairs,” you said, turning to the blonde, and breaking the older man from his thoughts. JJ nodded and walked off, all under the watchful eye of your husband.

“You shouldn’t let him in there alone,” he murmured, and you sighed, distracting yourself by fixing his collar.

“He’s been with us for three months now…I trust him,” you said softly with a shrug.

Hank grunted.

“Maybe if you stop talking, I could go in there and supervise him.” you said with a soft, inconspicuous chuckle. He seemed to get the point, and you quickly said your goodbyes, sending him off with a custom kiss to his lips. On all the other days you’d done this, it had felt special, but today it was noticeably empty. Perhaps you needed the pastor more than you’d thought.

As expected, JJ hadn’t returned outside, instead leaning over the marble countertops of your island, a bloodied tissue balled up in front of him. He looked a little different than he did in the direct sun; possibly due to the golden haze affecting your vision (and judgement), as the cool tones of the interior made the cerulean of his irises pop just a little more, showing off his pupils, widened under the wanting glaze in his eyes. You never felt scared around JJ - rather the opposite - but his fixed gaze and silence in the moment was particularly ominous.

“...How’s your hand?” you said, clearing your throat.

“Fine,” he mumbled, glancing down at them before looking up. “I’ve had worse,”

“Let me see,” you announced, walking around the island to sit next to him, closing the gap between you. You took his lithe fingers in your own, analysing how red and raw his knuckles were. For a young man, his hands were somewhat aged; likely because of his life as a rogue, which both somewhat scared you and made you sympathise with him more.

Fixating on his finger, you tried to ignore the way he leaned into you, shifting his weight so that he appeared taller, the warm skin of his arms pressing against your own. He smelt fresh, if not admittedly a little musty, and the smell mingled with your own daisy perfume, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’ve got a splinter,” you continued. “This has to be removed or it could get infected —“

“It’s not —“ JJ said defensively, and you cut him off with pleading eyes.

“Please, I insist,”

He softened, nodding his head before you moved around the room to find your first aid kit. You’d done it with such ease; as if you were some kind of Mary Poppins - or better yet the Virgin Mary - and he suddenly couldn’t seem to figure out whether he wanted to take advantage of your kindness, or be on the receiving end of it. As much as his cock throbbed at the idea of fucking the repressed, religious housewife and cucking her POS husband, he couldn’t help but think of all the times he’d fallen - literally and metaphorically - and all the times his ‘dad’ had hit on him, ultimately coming back to how much he’d needed someone to nurse his wounds. In an alternate world, you could’ve been that somebody, but he was lucky enough to have his friends.

Once you'd made your way back to him, you sat down on one of the stools, careful as you handled his slightly swollen finger, going through the motions of wiping it with antiseptic before you began to poke at the skin with tweezers.

Moments passed, and you’d spent it in silence.

“Any luck?” JJ perked up.

You nodded and wiped the tweezers on a section of gauze.

“It’s all out now, just make sure it’s cov—“

“With the baby,” he said, cutting you off. Your blood ran cold, and you dropped his hand, staring him in the eye. Part of you was mortified, no matter how obvious it had been that JJ was listening in earlier.

“That is far too inappropriate to talk about with you,” you stammered.“And it’s really none of your business,”

JJ pursed his lips and flexed his limbs as he watched you scramble. It was as if this were amusing to him.

“My bad,” he snorted. “I just think he’s an asshole, y’know, and you’re so good to me…” he said, pausing to run his tongue over his lips as he stared at you. “Other than the money, why are you with him? Isn’t the whole point of the Bible to be nice to people and stuff?”

Pitifully, you chuckled at his childishness as you shook your head.

“It’s also about being a provider. He loves me, JJ, he really does —“

“Yeah, ‘cause you being a virgin had nothing to do with it…” he spat, causing you to anxiously tug at your crucifix, “He can’t even give you a baby,”

“…I mean, that’s the thing you want most, right? What does it say that he can’t even give that to you?”

The statement rang true in your head as you ran your palms down the sides of your sundress, strangely desperate to hit something. Was that the right emotion? You couldn’t tell; you just knew that your body was hot, your heart racing as the pulse of blood flooded your ears, and there was an inexplicable urge to surrender, even though you wanted to run. You couldn’t even face the boy as you spoke, instead beginning to make your way out of the room.

“JJ…I-I think you should go…” you stammered, burying your face in your hands as you left, the sound of JJ’s boots hitting your marble floors telling you that you weren’t going to be alone anytime soon. He shook his head and bit his lip in frustration as he followed after you into the sunroom.

“Hey, wait — fuck — I didn’t mean —“

“JJ please!” You begged, facing him as your chest heaved and your eyes were as wide as saucers. You shouldn’t have strolled into here; the heat that poured in from the glass was unbearable, and you longed to open the doors and indulge in the feeling of cool air. If you could just do that, perhaps you’d feel better? If not, you’d certainly be seeing the Reverend about a dip in the water of penance.

Either way, everything was too much, and you had no clue about just how much worse things were about to get.

“You’re not crying, are you?”

“No,” you sighed. “I-I just feel awful. I’m a horrible person, I’m going to hell, I –”

You wanted to fight against the fact that JJ had pulled you into a hug, but as you buried your face into his neck you felt otherwise. There was something strangely arousing about his musky smell, and judging by the feeling of his cock against your thigh, he felt the same.

As if you didn’t know that.

“Shh, it’s okay…You’re fine…” he whispered, pulling away to glance down at you, gauging your reaction. “Let me take care of you…”

“JJ, I can’t —“

Your words were swallowed by his kiss; his lips hungry as they attacked your own, whilst his hands invaded your body, planting themselves on your hips before moving down to grope your ass. You let out a soft moan as he gave it a gentle squeeze before he made his way back up to your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. He pulled away, eyes burning into your own longingly, yet still a little dumbfounded; and stayed there, his grip unwavering.

“I’m dying for you, Mama,” he said earnestly, gaze flickering down to your heaving bosom, your crucifix twinkling in the sunlight. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you, ‘kay?”

You nodded as you peeled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, heart pounding as you revealed yourself to a man who was not your husband - and yet it felt like your wedding night all over again.

JJ sucked in a breath as he watched you undress, unable to hide his smirk as he shifted off his shorts with ease and palmed his cock through his boxers. He could see the outline of your nipples peeking through the lacy, baby pink material, and knew that he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself once he had his hands on you. Fuck, he could barely even do it now.

“C’mere,” he commanded, silver rings glistening as he beckoned you over. A heat began to pool in your stomach as you walked over to him; sensually, reverently, skin breaking into goosebumps as his fingers danced along the skin of your back, swiftly unhooking the material of your bra. You were straddling him now, running your fingers through his tousled hair as you kissed him, gently grinding along his clothed cock and making JJ let out a soft groan. He revelled in the feeling of your warm skin against his own, and slid his hands down your body to grasp your hips, pushing them down with gentle force against his pelvis.

“JJ…” you gasped. Your heart fluttered, not ready to accept the fact that you were about to take another man’s cock - one that was longer, and probably far more satisfactory. “It’s –”

He shushed you again.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you…Just let go…”

You couldn’t deny how good the act of dry humping felt, the folds of your aching clit tangible through the sheer material of your panties as his cock traced and embedded on your core; a blob of precum spreading across your inner thighs. JJ’s pink lips were latched onto your nipple, sucking and biting at your skin, determined to leave a mark.

He wanted your husband to see that his property had been defiled - by a Pogue boy no less - all under the watchful eye of God.

After a few moments, he flipped you, your head falling to the other side of the couch as you now found him on top of you, his necklace dangling in your face as he gazed down at you.

“ ‘He ever eaten you out before?” he said snarkily.

“…Huh?”

“Didn’t think so,”

Before you knew it, he’d disappeared between your legs, sliding your panties down in a swift manner and burying his tongue inside of you. He hadn’t given you any warning, but the hot, wet sensation was surprisingly pleasurable.

JJ was touching you like no man had ever before; using his mouth and hands to explore your crevice, flicking and lapping at the obscene amount of juices that coated your folds. You whimpered and gripped a pillow, frantic to find some sense of security - only for JJ to pull it from you, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“Nuh-uh,” he began, his voice muffled. “Fuck the pillow. You hold onto me, baby…” he drawled, a hand sliding under your ass and onto the curve of your lower back to angle you higher; silver rings digging into your skin as he held you there. Biting your lip, you fought the urge to blaspheme and laced your fingers through his hair, digging at his roots as he fucked you with his tongue, searching for that oh-so sweet spot.

“You taste so good, Mama…” JJ cooed, lost in your walls, borderline breathless from the way you were squeezing his head between your thighs and drawing him deeper. “…I bet that pussy feels like heaven,”

Perhaps it was the mention of paradise, but his dirty talk sent you over the edge. It was as if you’d been shocked; as if an electrifying pulse of light had run through you, making your back arch and toes curl, swallowing JJ’s face whole.

It was incredibly obscene.

You’d barely caught your breath when JJ had climbed back up, indulging you in a passionate kiss and smearing your juices all over your face. Tracing your fingers down his spine, you didn’t break eye contact with him as you pushed down his boxers with one hand and palming his aching cock. It was somewhat heavy with a considerable length, and he chuckled as you shut your eyes and said a silent prayer - not only for what you were about to do, but just how much you were going to enjoy it.

“Hold still,” JJ commanded, breaths shaky as he began to push into you. “‘Imma give you what you want baby…Fuck –”

JJ was loud, but you didn’t care.

It was all too overstimulating; from the dull pain that came from your legs spread so pornographically as they dangled off of his shoulders, to the sound of his pelvis slapping against your own as he rutted into you. You left graceful scars along his back as your manicured nails dug into his sun-kissed skin, crawling at him as you begged for him to go deeper.

“You like this, huh? I know Jesus probably wouldn’t be too happy about this, but pretty girls like you deserve to get what they want…Shit…” he groaned, sliding in and out of you with ease. “Besides, if I give you a baby it’s just me being a good neighbour, right?”

A baby.

That had been the whole reason for your foul mood as of late.

Would Hank ever know? Could you explain it away? How could you function with JJ still around? Your family, your friends…God? How could you ever atone for such a sin?

Realistically, none of that mattered now. Especially not when JJ was fucking you like a rabbit; his hair buried in the crook of your neck and his legs bent as he pressed you into the sofa, yearning to consume you.

“JJ…” you whined, “I think I’m gonna –”

“Shit, me too baby,” he groaned. “This pussy is so fucking good…Just swallowing me up ‘n shit — I should’ve started working earlier…”

His balls were slapping against your skin now, and you began to see white as he fucked into you, his tip hitting your sweet spot and making you clench around him, legs trembling as you came. It wasn’t too long until he followed after you, your clear juices mixing with his hot cum as he continued to fuck you, rolling his hips in a slow but sensual manner as he made sure you felt - and were filled - with every inch of him.

Which was why it wasn’t surprising that you found yourself pregnant two weeks later.

#florence writes!!#jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #obx smut #obx x reader #jj maybank x reader smut #catholic! reader #religion kink #obx imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days

Text

Winter's King 9

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: I can't explain why but damn I'm so tiredddd.

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. 💖

As you approach the capital, you can’t help but poke your head up to admire the domes of the great castle and the high towers. The gates stand open as the party advances, in wait of their new liege and lord. You shield your eyes against the sun as you gaze at the silhouette of the mighty architecture.

“May as well get a good gander,” Bryce says, “doubt the kitchens are any more glorious than the ones you know.”

“Mm,” you retract your gaze and sigh, “suppose. But they will still be new to me.”

“Not all that is new is wondrous,” he girds. “For as much as I’ve seen in this world, it is the familiar that keeps me sane.”

You nod and let the cart rock you. Ahead of you, the horses tread over rocks and dirt, wagons bounce and creak, and some servants walk afoot to ease the cramps in their legs. You lean lazily on a chest and fold your hands in your lap. It will at least be nice to stay beneath a proper roof again.

The streets of the city are crowded with faces. They do not holler for you but you can hear the raucous uproar ahead as the king and queen ride between the citizens. There are even more black and grey soldiers stationed along the roads, awaiting your arrival.

As you wind up to the royal castle, the noise grows tantamount. At the walls of the grand structure, clusters of people threaten to crush the party between their writhing bodies. It takes some time after the king’s entrance for the luggage to make way into the courtyard.

The carts depart around the back of the castle as the horses make way for the stables. You climb out as Bryce lurks around, dismounting Daisy with a grunt as he rubs his lower back. You glance over at him as the other servants quickly fall into work.

“Maid,” he calls to you before you can follow suit, “no doubt the queen will need to wash away the road before she faces the hordes.”

He beckons you forth with his gauntlet and you diligently near him. He hands off Daisy to a castle servant and carries on inside. You scurry beside him as he stops and gauges his surroundings. He is not versed with the corridors but he presses on unimpeded.

You turn back a few times before you reach the great hall. It is crowded and chaotic. The soldier strides through without pause. You nearly grab onto him just to keep from being lost in the stirring of soldiers and servants, and the tittering lords and ladies in their colourful garb.

Up the stairs and a few questions grunted to his comrades, Bryce takes you down to a set of chambers with yet another soldier before it. You’re let inside without question. You find Queen Jazlene before a steaming basin as another servant cleans her face.

The queen scrunches up her nose and swats the lady servant, the maid still in the former king’s colours; burnt autumn orange and goldenrod yellow.

“Watch my eyes, you moron,” Jazlene chides and jabs her nail into the maid’s ribs.

“My lady, I didn’t mean--”

“I am a queen, not a lady,” Jazlene hisses, “be gone before I have your teeth knocked out of that stupid mouth of yours.”

The other maid wrings the cloth and steps back on her heel, chewing on an apology before she spins to flee. As she nears the door, she notices you and gives a panicked look. You reach to take the cloth from her before you go to the queen.

“Your highness,” you greet her and dip the cloth back in the steaming water. “Would you like me to put ribbons in your hair?”

“Mm, I suppose,” she tilts her face up and closes her eyes, “once the dirt is gone. By gods, I hate traveling.”

You gently wipe along her hairline and trace the outline of her face. You delicately but intently clean away the errant dust and streaks. You drape the cloth over the brim of the basin and turn to the table.

“And would you like your lips painted?” You intone. “Your highness, I do think your natural tones are beautiful.”

As you peek back at her, her eyes open and she stares at you. Her nostrils compress as she inhales. She puts her head straight and looks at her reflection.

“Do you think so?” She touches her cheeks.

“Yes, I do, if you line your eyes, they might appear bigger but they are so lovely and dark already,” you compliment.

She hums and tilts her head, turning her attention back on you, “it’s you.”

You lower your head, “your highness?”

“You’re always flitting around like some bird,” she sniffs, “suppose you are not so... agitating as the other. Yes, ribbons and some kohl. Then I will have one of the former queen’s gowns. They have delivered her wardrobe to me.”

“Yes, your highness,” you say and go to work.

You settle into your usual lull. The queen sips from her goblet as you twine ribbons with her curls, a halo around the crown of her head as coiling strands hang down to her back. She looks even more immaculate than you’ve seen her before.

She calls for a dress and you bring her several options from those strewn across the large bed. She chooses the lavender and you help her into the light silk. You relace it to account for her lither figure, the former queen having some extra years in her hips.

When she is dressed, she twirls before the mirror. She stops and sets her chin straight and glares at herself. She arches a brow coyly.

“I cannot wait to see Lady Florence,” she scoffs, “she will choke when she realises I am her queen.”

You linger by the wall, blending into the tapestry as she sighs and eyes the glass affectionately. She primps herself and spins again.

“Well then, I must be overdue,” she goes to the door, “I must go to the king and show him I can be his queen.”

You open the door for her and follow her out. The soldiers outside glance at her but do not move or speak. Bryce comes up beside you as you trail after Jazlene. She struts to the end of the corridor and is stopped by another guard at another door.

“Do not think to stop me,” she spits, “I am the queen,” she flicks her fingers in his direction, “don’t be absurd.”

The man lets her through as she tugs on the latch and his dull eyes stare past her. She hardly has the effect she thinks. People do not admire her so much as they tolerate her.

She sweeps into the chamber as you wait outside. Bryce lets out a gritty breath and taps his fingers on his sword pommel. He chews more of the sweet leaves he loves so much. Jazlene emerges with a doe-like look.

“Where is the king?” She exclaims.

“He has gone to address the people,” the guard picks at his teeth. “He tired of waiting--”

“Do not tell me about the king,” Jazlene snaps on the soldier, “ugh, let us find my husband. How can he think to face my people without me at his side?”

She storms onward and you can only follow. She will no doubt need wine sooner than later, though you wish she might take more water or milk instead. Bryce keeps your pace slowed as he makes little haste.

As she descends the steps, you can hear the king’s voice. The crowd is hushed, almost hypnotised as he speaks from atop a chair. Somehow, he is both overwhelming and unassuming. Jazlene shows as she sees him. The crowd does not move out of her way as they are rapt in his words.

“...do not come as conquerer, but as liberator,” he declares, “I am not here to suppress but to unite. Our kingdoms, forged together as one, can attain glory. Peace. Joy. Our people needn’t suffer the droughts or frost rot without relief. By coming together, we will join summer and winter in harmony,” the king holds his sword, the tip on the armrest of the wooden chair, “to you lords who stayed loyal to Waleran, I do not seek retribution. You only did your duty and served the king you put an oath to. You had no part in his violations upon myself. I am aware you could not rein in your greedy master. You will keep what is yours, as by rights, but you will swear fealty to the new crown.”

King Geralt looks around the hall, “I have spoken to the farmers and the peasants, I have seen the beauty of your lands. I wish not to ravage it but to build it. You will not have only from me writs and declarations, you will have fields sown, you will have harvests reaped, you will have coin in flow, and you will have full bellies.”

He raises his great sword over his head. The large weapon could be held only by two-hands in anothers grasp but he lifts it effortlessly.

“I saw how your king tucked tail when he saw me on the field. After you good lords followed him to battle and sacrificed your men and your blood. He could not stand and fight, but many of you did, many of you not here today. I will not let their souls be spent in vain,” he pauses and his golden eyes rove around the room. He points his sword suddenly towards you but not quite, at Jazlene, “I have taken a summer wife.” He curls his fingers to gesture her to him. People swivel to see her and clear the path to the king, “a winter’s king must have a summer’s queen, if our kingdoms our to rise anew.”

Jazlene sways before she gets her footing. She moves forward, chin high as she lets a grin break out over her face. She looks this way and that, gloating as she goes to her husband. He steps down as she approaches and he takes her hand. He helps her up on the chair herself and she seems almost confused by the act.

“Queen Jazlene of Debray,” King Geralt proclaims, “she will return with me to the Hinterlands to see that order is kept across our realm and perhaps, the next time I look upon you all, I will have an heir to present to you. A young prince to lead us into the sun ahead.”

He raises Jazlene’s hand as she fawns. The crowd breaks out in racket, voices swelling to the rooves as you��re jostled against Bryce. The lords and ladies, servants and soldiers, throw up fists and hoot and holler.

The king brings his sword up again, silence falling at the gleam of its silver blade, “but first, a feast!”

The fervour is even louder as the hall explodes in glee. You hear it ripple out the doors into the crowd without and like an ocean, the tides carry through the courtyard and front gates, streaming into the city. Peace has come and old grudges cannot take the shine from the gift of a king’s mercy.

⚔️

“Your highness, we heard of what happened on Stag’s River,” an earl, you think he said his name was Kelvan, “it was a brave stand. Admirable, even standing upon the other ridge.”

“You were there?” King Geralt muses, “mm, how fortunate our paths did not cross.”

“Indeed, your highness,” the earl agrees, “I must admit, I dreaded it.”

“But here we are, alive, together, as allies. It is all I ever wanted.”

“And we knew it. We knew it, my liege, for when you let our men march back at all, we saw your grace,” Kelvan smiles.

“Yes, but I have only ever admired your lands, never had I wanted to ruin them,” the king assures as he looks over at his wife.

“He is a brave and good king,” Queen Jazlene praises as she puts her hand over the king’s.

Lord Kelvan’s lips ripple, “mm, yes, I have not seen your father yet. If I shan’t happen upon the Duke, you will send my regards.”

There’s an edge that makes you uneasy. You see how Jazlene bobs her head, “so I shall.”

She doesn’t seem to notice the tick of resent in the earl’s cheek. How odd it is that they are so fond of the invader and yet their own kith and kin, they cannot help but revile. You’ve heard the whispers swirling already. It was not King Geralt who betrayed these people but this snakish woman and her blood.

“Wine, girl, now,” Jazlene snaps as the early departs back to his seat.

You stand against the wall, just behind the bench she shares with the king. You come forward with the jug reserved only for her, nearing between the shoulders of the royal couple. Before you can put the spout to brim, King Geralt’s hand catches the swollen belly of the ewer.

“Perhaps you might have some more lamb before you indulge further, wife,” he girds.

“It is a feast,” she slurs, “I am only celebrating. With you,” she touches his sleeve, “my king.”

“I see that,” his voice is low but firm, “yet you are a queen and your subjects are watching.”

“I can stomach my wine,” she sneers.

He huffs and wraps his hand around the bottom of the handle, just below your grip. He wiggles it away from you and sets it on the other side of his plate. Jazlene lets out a childish gasp.

“It is just wine,” she snivels.

King Geralt runs his fingers along his collar, “we are having a good night,” he says as he peers out on the crowd, “please, let us not make a scene.”

“I am not making a scene. I am the queen and I want more wine,” she insists.

He faces forward completely. You stay as you are, trapped in their indecision. He blocks the jug with his elbow and she claps her hands on her lap and kicks her feet.

“Perhaps you should have some of that wine,” she mutters, “it might make you kinder.”

The king doesn’t reply and instead greets another lord; one who introduces himself as the Count of Bress. As they speak, Jazlene leans back on the bench and tugs your skirt. You look down at her.

“Find more wine,” she growls, “and don’t be obvious about it.”

“Your highness, but the king--”

“I am your master, not him,” she snarls and nudges you harshly, “be away before I lose my patience.”

You dip your head and notice how the king’s head turns towards his wife. You don’t look back as you critter off quickly into the shadows. You might be better to take your time and tell her you could not abscond any more wine. If you wait long enough, it might even slip her mind, as so often her desires fade into the next.

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

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spatialwave · 24 days

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃”

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader word count: 8.9k summary: school is out and you’re looking to make the best out of your time while stuck in a small town. with summer in the air, you find yourself wrapped in a whirlwind of a day full of rookie hazing, warm beer and a budding romance with a certain football quarterback. warnings: underage drug use, bullying, name-calling, cheating. notes: not beta'd, so bare with me on any grammatical errors. also apologies for the wall of text LOL.

(a03 vers)

chapter two. ->

Moving to a small Texan town during Christmas of 1975 was far from ideal, especially as a high school junior. You’d left so much behind in California, your best friends, your boyfriend (who broke up with you because of the distance) and your part-time job as a beach lifeguard on the weekends. Maybe it was shallow, but you had the perfect life! A life that every girl your age dreamed of because you got away with whatever you wanted.

You weren’t queen bee, but you were well-liked and adored by many at your previous school, and being a popular girl at a large Californian high school was basically like being the Queen of England.

Your royal kingdom came crumbling down the day your parents, the banes of your existence, decided to move out to the Texan town where your mother was born and raised–before she escaped to the beautiful West Coast. You’d only been there twice in your life to visit your grandparents, but after your grandfather passed and left your grandmother to live the rest of her days alone… well, your parents couldn’t let her go off to a retirement home all by her lonesome.

They were too compassionate to let that happen.

Your father, a pediatrician, was happily welcomed into the small town where the number of citizens far outweighed the amount of healthcare workers. Your mother, a stay-at-home wife, took care of your grandmother during the days, kept the house clean from top-to-bottom and fed every mouth that came in the door.

There was very little you could complain about because you had all the essentials that every human needs—a roof over your head, food and clothes—and although you missed indulging in what the gorgeous city of Santa Barbara had to offer, you were far from a pouty and ungrateful person. You were a teenage girl, full of emotions and dramatics, so that’s why you spent a lot of your time complaining about it. It was valid to miss the lifestyle you had gotten used to and the worst part was that it took you at least two weeks to get over your lousy boyfriend who told you that it would take too much effort calling you and sending letters.

Goodbye, loser!

On your first day at Lee High School, you had so many unknown eyes on you that you were beginning to think that your days of being atop the social ladder were gone, leaving you at the bottom begging for scraps just to get up a peg. You were met with the opposite—a pretty girl from California like you turned heads for all the right reasons, and you found yourself being swarmed by peers wanting to get to know you. Particularly by two girls in your year, Kaye and Shavonne, who you’d clicked with like Dorothy’s heels on The Wizard of Oz.

So long to your Californian friends, and hello to your new Texan best friends, who were nothing short of young partiers who favoured cigarettes, beers and driving around late at night because there was fuck-all to do. They were the two realest girls you ever met.

It was an abrupt change of lifestyle, and while it was nerve-wracking at first, you’d welcomed it because you could focus less on how others perceived you and more on enjoying the good times. You learned to enjoy the taste of cheap beer, how to hustle people while playing pool, and the best places to park your car for a well-hidden make out session. By May, you’d smoked enough reefer that you could indulge in a couple of joints without spending the entirety of your evening with a bucket and your friends holding back your hair while they try to stifle laughs.

The only downside to the move? Two girls who you could never tell if they hated you, liked you or were jealous of you—Elise Crane and Darla Marks. Elise was a kind girl, at least on the surface, but Darla was a monster who wanted nothing more than to be envied by others. Shavonne was close with them, the type of girl to jump between the friend groups and report on each other. You came into the picture late, so you couldn’t complain about her two-sided nature to her face, but you did with Kaye.

You did your best to keep your lips tight on speaking badly around them when Shavonne was around, but calling Darla a bitch slipped the tongue once, and you could see the way your blonde friend’s eyes sparkled. It was only time until Darla called you out about saying she was a bitch behind her back.

That was the supposed life of growing up in a small town, you couldn’t say a goddamned thing to even your closest friends without everyone knowing eventually. Gossiping was healthier than ever, and you found that out, especially when you told Shavonne you thought a boy was cute.

Angus Tully.

He was the dreamiest boy you’d ever seen, well, the dreamiest boy in Texas. He was tall and lanky, a bit lean under the clothes from what you’d seen, with wild brown curls that grew around his ears and brown eyes that you could spend hours getting lost in. It was so cliché, but he gave you butterflies, and you felt like the luckiest girl alive being in the same social circle as him.

Over a few weeks of admiring him from afar, you saw that he was one of the few genuinely nice boys at school, nicer than Jason Smith and hundreds of times nicer than Teddy Kountze. He was like an angel compared to them, a boy who was friends with anyone and everyone and the type to check on the younger freshman who’d get tossed around by the seniors on the regular. Though, that didn’t stop him from being a conniving little shit with his friends when provoked–you’d seen firsthand their bad habit of driving around knocking mailboxes over when they got bored.

It was the culmination of everything of Angus Tully that drew you in. His charm, his uncaring attitude, and the fact that he enjoyed flirting with you when the chance arose.

Only issue? Elise Crane.

You knew nothing of their history as a ‘couple’, so you did your best to not let yourself get involved, or worse, between them. Shavonne, the gossip machine, told you everything you needed to know about their relationship—they were kind of together. You had no idea what that meant, but the fact that Angus had started spending more of his free time with you, you imagined that meant things were going south.

Elise Crane seemed so believably nice to you, but you couldn’t trust people who hung around Darla Marks. You sometimes kept Shavonne at arm’s length for that very reason. It didn’t take much to convince yourself to keep your nose out of other people’s business, especially when it revolved around teenage love—hell hath no fury like a jealous girlfriend.

Why did he have to be so cute, though?

You had been thinking this to yourself as you sat in class, mindlessly twirling a pencil in your fingers as you stared outside into the empty hallway. This was your second-last class, devastatingly close to freedom and the promised party at Pickford’s where you could get drunk, stoned and maybe find a boy to make out with. Maybe Benny—he was your usual go-to.

Normally, you were more active in conversation, but today you found yourself half-listening to everything happening around you. You’d heard Mike mention something about a pledge that the football players were asked to sign, though, you hadn’t really been paying much attention to what came with it. Pledge this, pledge that, you were hardly concerned with their issues.

As your eyes glazed over while you stared into the empty hall from your spot at the table, you saw two other football players, Jason and Benny, come to the doorway, beckoning Angus. Curious eyes watched as he got up from his seat and jogged out of class to go meet with them, and you perked up in your seat.

A small smirk played on your lips as you sat in anticipation, juggling the idea in your head until you slipped out of your seat and disappeared out of the classroom, looking to your right and seeing the boys walking down the hall together. Benny swung the paddle around as if hitting invisible freshmen, the trio chuckling to each other about god knows what.

“Hey, boys, wait up!” You called, arms crossing over the striped-cropped shirt you wore. You gazed amongst the three boys, Benny, Angus and Jason—they always looked like they were up to no good. They usually weren’t.

Benny’s eyes fixated on you, a boy you’d gotten to know decently well, but not through conversation. Instead of fixing on him, your eyes settled nicely onto the brunette who stood between them.

Lips thinned into a small smile for a moment before speaking again, “Too good for class?” you asked, looking between the boys with slightly narrowed eyes.

“No,” Jason said, cocking an eyebrow at you before smiling and confessing, “Yes.”

“Where are you going?” You asked curiously, nodding your head at Angus for him to answer.

“What is this? Are you going to lecture us about skipping class? Didn't realize you were a self-appointed hall monitor.” He retorted with a teasing look in his eyes, hands shoved into the pockets of his blue jeans as he took a step backward with a coy shrug, “Benny wants to head to the middle school, you know, see how the soon-to-be-freshman are holding up and give them a little announcement.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I came for,” you said, turning to Benny, meeting his eyes and feeling so small under it. He was a little intimidating.

“Anything you need,” He grinned, looking down at you like a piece of meat as he continued to swing the paddle.

You sighed, tapping your hand against the wood a couple of times to get his attention, “Do me a favour and don’t go too hard on my brother this summer, alright?” You plead, “he’s still getting used to the place and this is all new to him. He’s probably scared out of his mind.”

Benny’s eyes grew big at your statement, and he laughed loudly at the mere mention of going easy on the kid, “Don’t worry, I’ll give him a beating he’ll never forget!” He laughed with a loud slap of his hand against the paddle, causing the boys to laugh at his childish antics and you to roll your eyes in disgust.

“Fine, just don’t give him any more than you would the other kids, okay? Promise me,” you look between the boys, who all nodded in agreement.

“Sure,” Angus mused, tilting his head, “Your little brother will be okay, you got our word,” he reassured you, those brown eyes scanning over your body shamelessly and confidently. He always acted tougher around those boys.

You hadn’t believed a single word coming from any of them, but you still smiled up at Angus, because at least he was kind about it. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gave the boys a little nod before turning on your heel to head back to class—not before you felt a hard smack on your ass from the paddle.

“Ow—Benny!” You yelped loudly, jumping as you turned back to the three boys with an embarrassed smile on your lips, your hands rubbing over the stinging cheek that felt like fire under the fabric of your bell-bottoms.

“You liked it,” Benny said to you, offering a wink that made your stomach flip. You really needed to stop letting male attention get to you.

“Tell them to screw off!” Shavonne’s voice came from the classroom as her head peeked out of the door, her eyes landing on Jason before pulling away sharply. Your friend pulled you toward the girl’s bathroom before you could even say your goodbyes, meeting in the room to smoke a cigarette with Kaye and gossip before the next class. Though it wasn’t much gossiping, as Kaye decided to use the time to psychoanalyze Gilligan’s Island, and its link to the male gaze—she had some fair points, but Shavonne wasn’t convinced.

The final period of the day dragged on in History class, and you seated yourself at one of the desks near the back. Your head leaning back against the cool wall as you tried your best to relax, maybe even indulge in a nap to make time go by quicker. Although nearly successful, your attempts were cut short when you felt someone landing into the desk in front of you with a loud huff. Opening your eyes, they landed on the individual you’d been daydreaming about all day—a toothy grin on his lips.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you stretched your arms up and sighed, nestling back into the seat afterwards.

“Oh, you know, figured I’d make an appearance,” Angus said to you, leaning forward so he could cross his arms and lean over your desk, “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted a laugh, lifting a hand to tuck back some stray hairs that fell into your face as you sat forward. You mimicked his position, leaning forward on your desk and resting your chin on your arms. It left your faces only a few inches apart, “How’d it go with Benny and Jason? Did you boys manage to scare the freshman into fleeing the country?”

“Totally,” he snickered, lip twitching as he dropped his gaze briefly, eyes looking over your lips then back up, “What’s up with you and Benny? He’s been complaining about you not wanting to see him lately, it’s all he talks about. It’s annoying.”

“Wow, that is totally none of your business,” you laughed through your breath and a flicker of amusement in your eyes, “Does this mean I allowed to ask what’s up with you and Elise?”

“Mm, touché,” Angus murmured, moving to sit up straight again, though his gaze not once wavering as he leaned against the metal bar behind him that connected the seat to the desk, “Do you actually care?”

“I’m allowed to be curious. It hasn’t killed me yet,” you remained in your position, eyes fluttering up to look the boy over, noticing the way his hair looked a little more unruly than most days. It was cute.

Angus chuckled, looking down at his hands for a moment, fidgeting with them as you saw him thinking over his next sentence carefully, avoiding word vomit. It was a tough topic, you figured that as much because if everything were fine then it would be an easy response. The truth can always be found in the reactions of others, a joyous day for a perceptive girl.

Those doe brown eyes met your gaze, “Things are… they’re okay.”

Your eyes soften in concern, “Just okay?”

“Let it go, alright? I’m trying to have a good last class of junior year,” he smiled at you, avoiding the topic as he bravely let one of his hands rest over your desk, so his fingers could play with the thin bracelet around your wrist, “Spending it with you makes it a pretty good last class.” He mused quietly, his voice a bit awkward.

Why did he always have to say shit like that? Shit that made you want to giggle and twirl your hair around your finger so you could appease him into saying more.

You hadn’t known Angus Tully for very long, but you often wondered where on earth his charisma had come from. He reminded you of a boy who would have a hard time talking to women, much like his friends Mike and Tony, yet here he was making your cheeks hurt with how much he made you smile. You chalked it up to him being a football player, even back in California you knew that any boy on the team was seen as the ‘Gods’ of school and their ego always got to their head—much like with you.

Cheeks shone crimson, and you attempted to remain chill, which wasn’t very chill at all. “Come on, Tully,” you chuckled nervously, “save that energy for graduation next year. No need to get sappy on me this early.”

That smile of his grew wider, his fingers not once pulling away from you as they continued to fiddle with the dainty chain, “What? You don’t like it?” He teased, knowing very well the reaction he was getting out of you.

“You’re so annoying, I hope you know that.” You beamed, the look on your face showcasing anything but annoyance.

The two of you were lucky that everyone else in the class was so preoccupied with themselves. If you kept this up, Elise would be waiting for you outside the classroom door with her fists balled up and ready to pick a fight. It was laughable imagery, neither you nor Elise would ever make for a good visual fight. One slap, and you’d both be crying back to your friends for soothing comfort.

“Did Benny get you this bracelet?” Angus’ lips curled at the corners, and you yanked your hand away with an irritated scoff, earning a proud laugh from the quarterback.

“What’s your obsession with Benny? If you’re jealous, that’s all you have to say,” You prodded in return, feeling your stomach do flips as you ventured into questionably flirtatious territory. The question caused Angus to crinkle his nose, not answering you. “What if he did get it for me?” You furthered, knowing very well the truth behind the jewellery—a gift from your Auntie on your sixteenth birthday.

Angus took another look at the bracelet, getting a good eye over it and causing you to shift uncomfortably in your seat. He took a few seconds to really admire it, looking over the multicoloured gems that tied into the golden chain, his thumb running along it and subsequently against your skin.

As you sat there, eyes fixated on the curly-haired boy, you delved deep into your mind and wondered what life would be like if you were able to call Angus your boyfriend. You knew of his sincere kindness toward his peers and inclination to stick it to the man, but was he a good partner? Would he be the type of boy to remember the date of when you started dating, or would he compliment you on your beauty when you’ve just woken up, hair wild and eyes small and tired? There was so much of him that you didn’t know, and you were desperate to figure it all out.

It made you wonder how on earth Elise didn’t appreciate him with all of her heart and soul. You would give anything to get a chance for it. A hopeless romantic, through and through.

“Benny couldn’t pull off this type of romance,” his voice pulled you back down from the clouds you had been dreaming in, calling you out on your bluff, “But let’s say he did… I want you to know that I could buy you a better one than this,” he replied with a self-satisfied look on his face, and like it was timed perfectly, the bell rang loudly in your ears as you stared at Angus with wide eyes and parted lips, breath caught in your throat, “Catch you later.”

You were the last student to leave the classroom, frozen in place out of pure shock over Angus’ words that flooded you with mixed signals. Flushed cheeks and a rapid heartbeat were a common occurrence when he was around, but things were different these past few weeks. The two of you had been finding yourself hanging out together more than usual, whether it was driving around or grabbing a bit to eat at Top Notch, you’d been freeing up a lot more evenings for him. There was an unspoken agreement to keep these meet-ups tight-lipped, considering you both wanted to keep your heads.

It was easy to get lost in the mixed signals that he threw at you, but you could almost swear that Angus had started behaving differently around you lately, less like just a friend. He acted similarly in which you act around boys that you crushed on, a bit flustered and awkward. You wanted so badly to call him out on it, but your guilt over hurting Elise won each time.

The last thing you needed before summer break was to read into it the wrong way and be pulled into that shit-show, so you shoved those thoughts deep from the gutters of your mind and hurried off—there were freshmen to haze, after all.

With Kaye driving the truck, you sat in the middle with Shavonne to your right. You’d just finished pulling off your top to replace it with the white jersey that displayed ‘SENIOR’ in big letters over the chest and ‘77 on the back. You thought it was corny, but you knew you’d be tucking it away in your drawer after the day’s end and keeping it as a memory to look back on fondly. Not too fondly, though, these were not going to be the best years you’ve ever lived.

“What’s up with you and Benny these days?” Shavonne questioned, smoking a cigarette with her window rolled down, flicking the ash as she turned to you.

“God, why does everyone keep asking me that?” You grumbled as you put your striped shirt down on the seat between you and Kaye, sitting forward so you could adjust the jersey over your body and tuck it into the high-waisted jean shorts you’d changed into.

“Everyone?” Kaye laughed, “You’re telling me there’s something else other than us who cares about you and Benny’s biweekly hook-ups? I have a hard time believing that.” She always thought your ‘relationship’ with Benny was laughable, naming him one of the biggest jerks of school. You wholeheartedly agreed that he was an asshole through and through, but he was at least kind to you—and you were both young and hormonal. It was basic math.

“Who is it?” Shavonne’s eyes lit up, once against seeing the gears turning in her head—your beloved friend, the rumour mill.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone,” you warned, “Angus was pestering me about it,” you shrugged as you stole the cigarette from where it rested snugly between two of her fingers. Taking a long drag, you exhaled, “Not sure why.”

“Don’t play dumb, you know exactly why,” Shavonne quipped in return, stealing back the half-smoked cigarette and holding it in her hand away from you.

“How does it feel to be so loved by the male gaze?” Kaye teased you, her eyes focusing ahead as the middle school came into view, “every boy wants you, and you keep egging them all on.”

“Firstly, I am not egging anyone on. Secondly, if you are trying to insinuate that something is going on between Angus and me, then you’re dead wrong,” you mumbled, lips twitching as you reached your hand forward and lowered the volume of the radio that had been blaring the Rolling Stones.

“All I’m saying is that I’ve known him for a lot longer than you have, alright?” Shavonne said as she flickered the cigarette out of the window, watching as it landed on the pavement, “Trust me when I say that boy likes you, I’ve never seen him so attached to anyone and that’s including Elise. I’m your friend,” she put a hand on your shoulder, “Why would I lie to you?”

Your eyes landed on Shavonne, quirking a humoured eyebrow, “Because you like getting reactions out of people.”

“You know me well,” she laughed, shoving you playfully as you pulled into the middle school parking lot, where you could see the other senior girls parked with their trucks and already wrangling girls in.

Most of the freshman girls stood by the fence, anxiously waiting to be picked one-by-one for the hazing rituals. Meanwhile, the freshman boys were running away from the school like it had been infested by the plague, nothing but fear in their eyes as they prayed for their asses to remain safe from the wrath of a senior with a paddle. You swore you could hear Teddy Kountze’s laugh from here, the poor bastard who flunked senior year and was back to paddle for another year. Embarrassing.

You then thought back to the promise Angus made with you and hoped that your brother had made it home safely.

Kaye parked the truck along the fence, and you followed the girls out, finding solace under the warm summer sun that was able to distract you from the craziness that was your mind. Focusing on the present, you reminded yourself to breathe slowly and evenly as you felt yourself falling out of place very quickly.

These rituals were new to you, you’ve experienced bullying first hand, both against you and toward others, but this was unknown territory, and you worried that someone would take things too far. Could this be considering bullying, and why did teachers condone it? For crying out loud, you were right in the parking lot of the middle school, watching the teachers leave as kids scattered like it was their last day on earth.

You’d gone up to Darla, offering a fake-sincere greeting as she gave you a handful of soothers, a way to infantilize the girls and embarrass them.

But as much as you wanted to hate this entire thing, you found yourself getting a bit too invested as you walked up to the young teens, beckoning them to you and pushing the soothers between their lips. It was interesting, you could see how a few of the girls were almost waiting in excitement to be included, while others were hoping you’d skip over them and let them go home. You figured the ones who were excited were the girls that would be climbing the social ladders much faster than the rest, being a pushover for the seniors was a sure-fire way to succeed.

After successfully gathering three girls into the truck, Kaye and Shavonne having grabbed two each, you saw an empty spot in the back of the truck waiting to be filled.

A soother, which was attached to a ribbon, was swung around by you playfully as you eyed up three girls that were leaning against the fence. You kept your feet planted on the cement, leaning against the open door on the truck bed, and looked over the girl in front, long brown curly hair and big, wide brown eyes.

She reminded you of Angus, more innocent—and a freshman girl, of course.

“Hey you… come here,” you said to her with a smile and a motioning hand, your energy toward her far from malicious, “Who are you?”

“I, uh,” the girl stuttered, clutching the textbooks against her chest tighter as she flickered her eyes from the girls in the truck to you, curiously stepping forward, “I’m nobody. I mean, I’m not in the truck.”

The girl was so endearing, you almost didn’t want to invite her for the sake of keeping her innocence, but you could tell she was interested. You sucked up your own worries and smiled.

“Well, are you a freshman?” You tilted your head, a sweet smile playing on your lips.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, are you in, or you out?”

There was a look of hesitation on the girl, her eyes flickering between the truck full of her peers and you, “I’m in.”

Once more, you were settled in between Shavonne and Kaye as you drove back to the high school with the brand-new freshman in tow. Life was feeling great again now that summer was here, the sun felt hotter than it did before school was out, everyone was smiling more—well, not the freshmen. The seniors, though, this was their last summer before they would be heading off into the real world.

This was the last summer you’d be blessed with pure teenage freedom, you weren’t going to let anyone get in the way of that. Not Benny, not Elise and as much as you wanted to say not Angus, you hoped that he’d weasel himself into your life over the course of the next three months. He’s the one person you’d let flip your world upside down if he was so willing.

As you watched the girls file out of the trucks and stand in a large group, with Darla in the centre, you began to feel nervous again. Stuffing soothers in their mouths was far from the worst thing that would be happening to them, so as you watched as she started screaming at them, you had to look away from second-hand embarrassment.

“All right, you little freshman bitches! Air raid!” Darla screamed as one of the other seniors blew into a whistle, commanding the girls to lay flat down on the hot pavement on their stomachs. You watched as the sea of freshmen dropped to the ground like their life depended on it, only for Darla to scream the opposite, “That was pitiful. On your feet,” they all scrambled up, “AIR RAID!”

It was like a skipping record, you felt sorry for the girls and sorrier for the one you’d dragged in at the very end. A miserable start to their high school experience.

You stood between Shavonne and Elise as you three watched over Darla, who was taking this far more seriously than anyone else. She reminded you a lot of Teddy Kountze in that aspect, ready to live and breathe for torturing the new meat.

“This is horrible,” you groaned as you looked amongst the girls with red faces. They were all tired and getting slower by the minute.

“I feel for them,” Elise spoke up, a smile on her face as her brown eyes looked over the girls who were starting to look worse for wear, “but we all had to go through this and one day they’ll be in our shoes doing the same thing. So, they have to pay for it.”

“That’s worse,” you shuddered quietly, hands shoved into your back pockets as you leaned your weight on one leg as your eyes scanned your surroundings.

There were other seniors parked around the ‘festivity’, either watching with grins on their faces, or looks of disgust. It was 50/50. You’d immediately noticed Angus sitting nearby on the back of Jason’s truck, nestled in between him and Slater, shades resting over the bridge of his nose and a big smile on his face as he watched Darla screaming at the girls.

He tilted his head forward, looking over his shades and in your direction. You glanced away, assuming that the look was meant for Elise, who lifted a dainty hand and waved in his direction. It was rare that you felt anger, but there was something about this moment that made you want to turn to her and throw her to the ground like a primal animal fighting for a mate. You desperately needed the party to start, so you could drink the night away and hopefully have your attention on someone else.

Just as you focused back on the girls, Darla’s voice marked a cue.

“Well, we tried to give you a chance,” she started, pursing her lips as she walked around the girls who were lying on their stomachs, “But because you little prick teases can’t follow instructions, we’re going to have to try something else,” she turned to you, Shavonne, Kaye and Elise, using her finger to beckon you all, “Come on, girls.” She said, licking over her teeth as she commanded the freshman to roll onto their backs.

“This is so bad,” you whined to Kaye as you walked to Darla’s truck and grabbed one of the bags of flour, holding it against your hip.

“Oh, come on, have a little fun. You’re throwing flour on ‘em, it’s not like you're bruising their asses until they can’t sit for weeks,” Shavonne jumped into the conversation as she grabbed a bottle of ketchup and mustard in her hands, “You’ve earned the right to be a bitchy senior, remember that.”

With a heavy exhale, you let your lips spread into a faux smile. As much as you were hesitant, you were still having fun, in some weird, twisted way.

You allowed yourself to enjoy this—as much as you could—giggling with your friends as you watched them squirt condiments on the girls who covered their faces with their hands. Likewise, you took handfuls of flour, sprinkling it over the freshman and adding in gentle words once in a while, “Welcome to high school,” you’d say with a smile, while carefully avoiding their faces as you packed the flour over them in heaps.

Once the girls were rightfully covered with food, oil and sauces, you all spread out and began showing off the girls to the surrounding boys that watched. Kaye had taken the new freshman over to Tony and Mike, smoking a cigarette and chatting with them as she egged the freshman on to ‘propose’. You’d watched how Tony spoke to her kindly, most of the boys finding the situation awkward.

So, you decided to suck up your hesitation once and for all and took one of the girls over to Jason, Angus and Slater. Maybe you were doing it solely so you could chat with the curly haired brunette again, but you were only human! Elise was too busy, anyway. It wasn’t illegal to talk.

“Okay, freshie,” you said as you walked up to them, your hands resting over the girl’s shoulders, “I want you to propose to Angus.”

Even behind the sunglasses, you could see him squint his eyes in embarrassment, having greatly preferred watching from the sidelines rather than being involved. You already knew he wouldn’t let this go so easily, but they were the ones who came to park and watch. They could’ve gone anywhere else but here.

“On your knees,” you said to the girl, voice far from stern.

“Christ,” Angus groaned, lifting a hand to push his shades back up over his hair, pushing the curls out of his face as he looked down at the young girl, then back up at you.

“Will you marry me?”

Angus sighed as he looked down, fighting off a smirk as Jason shoved him playfully with his shoulder, “C’mon, Tully, the poor thing wants to marry you, don’t leave the girl hanging. Imagine everything you could do to her—I mean with her.”

You kept a hand on the girl’s shoulder, hoping that Jason would shut his mouth.

“Fine,” Angus spoke, putting his hands on his thighs and sighing at the circumstance that he knew he couldn’t get out of, “What will you do for me?”

“Anything,” she answered, her voice as confident as she could muster, and you started to regret your actions when you saw Jason smile wide. He was usually a nice guy, but he wasn’t very smart and didn’t think before speaking—the sole reason Shavonne was always made at him. You also noted the empty beer bottle behind him, rolling your eyes.

“Open your mouth like this,” Jason said, opening his in an o-shape, which the girl followed. Angus groaned and turned his head away, stifling laughter, “Uh-huh, yeah. That’s a good one for the memory bank.”

“That is so degrading, man,” Slater said through a laugh that exposed how high he was, his red eyes hardly open as he looked over at Jason in a mixture of disgust and admiration.

The young girl immediately pulled herself up to her feet, cheeks red and looking up at you after Jason’s words. You wrapped an arm around her in comfort as you narrowed your eyes at the blonde boy, “You can be a real asshole, Jason,” you muttered at him, not even looking at Angus as you walked away. That was a mistake you’d be regretting for the rest of the evening.

“Don’t get mad at me, you brought her here!” Jason called after, the two beers in his system not doing wonders for his filter.

“Look at what you did you pervert,” Angus shoved at him playfully, putting his shades back over his eyes as he watched you walk away. Unbeknownst to you, he’d been thinking about you a lot too, more than you could comprehend.

“Those guys are jerks,” you had been telling the girl, “Watch out for boys like those, okay? You deserve someone who will treat you like the lady you are.”

The words were soothing, you could see it in her eyes, and you promised yourself that you’d stay far, far away from the senior’s celebrations next year.

Just as you had started herding the girls back into the truck, preparing to go through a car wash to clean the girls up in the most humiliating way ever, someone came running up behind you.

“What do you want?” You asked when the figure came into your peripheral vision, having assumed it was Jason coming back with an apology—that was wishful thinking. Lifting the truck bed up with a click, your eyes flickered to Angus, watching you through his shades and a smile on his lips.

“Ouch, didn’t realize you were mad at me,” he smirked, your eyes looking up and down at him with a quirked eyebrow. You noticed the puka shell necklace poking out from underneath his t-shirt—you’d given that to him as a gift just over a month ago. It made your cheeks warm.

“Sorry, thought you were Jason,” you admitted as you wiped your hands clear of flour on the denim that covered your hips. You glanced around, noticing that your truck was the last to leave, the other seniors pulling out of the lot as you two spoke, “I gotta’ get going. Duty calls.” You said, taking a few steps back.

“You should skip out, Kaye and Shavonne don’t need you to drive through a car wash,” he said, glancing up at the freshman that were sitting in the back and listening in because they had nothing better to do except wait for the next phase of hazing.

“I don’t know, Angus,” you sighed, placing your hands over your hips as you looked over to the side view mirror where you met Shavonne’s gaze. She motioned for you to go, your heart leaping in your chest, “Where are we going?”

“Slater wants to head over to Pickford’s place, you know, get some stuff and hang out for a bit.”

“You really want me there?”

“Well, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you around,” he smiled, a hand reaching forward so he could hook his finger into one of your belt loops. That alone made you want to throw your arms around him then and there, forcing your lips together in a heavy kiss so he could taste your cherry chapstick.

“Yeah, whatever. Sounds cool,” you returned with a bashful smile, looking over at the freshmen as you smacked the side of the truck a few times to alert Kaye that they were ready. Both you and Angus waved the girls away, but you couldn’t keep your focus on anything except where his finger kept you tugged close to him.

“Man, I called shotgun before you,” Slater complained from the back seat in Angus’ car.

“It’s the shortest drive to Pickford’s,” you told the long-haired stoner, sitting sideways in your seat so you could look back at him.

“Yeah, but it all has to do with the morals of it,” he continued.

A laugh bubbled up, and you sat back in the passenger seat, looking out the open window and listening to the rock music playing from Angus’ radio, Aerosmith. You nodded your head along to the sound, one hand resting over where the window rolled down, the other on your thigh with fingers tapping along your skin. It was in moments like these you felt at peace, your hair blowing in the wind and a big smile on your face as the sun warmed you, hot enough that you could close your eyes and pretend you were on a coastal beach.

“You’re going to the party, right?” Angus asked, slowly your attention settling on him.

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” you smiled, the excitement buzzing inside of you.

“You going there with the girls?”

“No, I’m going with Benny,” you answered, lips spreading into a big grin when you saw the expression that fell over his face, “I’m kidding. God, you’re gullible.”

“You suck,” he rolled his eyes, reaching a hand to gently push at you. The same hand falling down so it could rest over your thigh—your bare thigh.

There was no willpower in you to push his hand away, to bring up Elise and say that if he wanted to act this way with you, he had to put an end to whatever was going on with them. The guilt would gnaw away at you later, for now you would allow yourself to enjoy the intimacy.

“What about you?” You asked, “who are you going with?”

“Just some of the football guys,” he replied, his thumb drawing circles over your thigh as he focused ahead on the road, “Why? Are you trying to go together?”

“You wish,” you laughed at his suggestion, “I’ll see you there. Maybe.”

Once at Pickford’s you lagged behind Slater and Angus, letting them talk with their parents as they packed away for what looked like a trip. That answered your question about how Pickford managed to pull off a big senior party at his house.

With your hands clasped in front of you, you smiled at the two older adults and kept your mouth tight–you’d never met them before, and you weren’t going to say anything to give them the wrong impression. They already seemed weary around Slater.

“Michelle is inside,” Pickford’s mother said to you with a sweet voice as she shoved some suitcases into the trunk of their vehicle, under the assumption you were there to meet with the only other girl there.

“Okay, yeah. Thanks.” you piped up, forcing a smile, unmoving until Angus wrapped an arm around your shoulder and tugged you toward the house.

“It was nice seeing you, have fun on your trip!” He called out to them once more, his charismatic nature taking the forefront, “Why are you being awkward with them?” he asked through a breathy chuckle, looking down at you as Slater led the way inside.

“I’m not awkward, I just like to make a good first impression,” you said, pulling away from his touch so you could shut the front door, “And what about you? You’re like… a chameleon.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Angus turned around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, paired with a curious smile.

You shrugged, walking past him as you followed Slater up the stairs, “You have this uncanny ability to blend into whatever social situation you want. It’s chameleon-like,” you explain, “Have you never noticed it before?”

“She’s totally right man,” Slater spoke from ahead of you, reaching the top of the stairs and turning around, “You know how to make friends with everybody and fit right in, you could totally be a CIA spy, man,” he spoke with his hands, eyes focusing on Angus as the two of you made up the stairs, “You’re not a spy are you?”

“Aw, shit, Slater,” Angus groaned, “You caught me. Guess I gotta’ assassinate you like they asked me to.” He abruptly fake punched Slater’s gut, making the stoner jump back.

“Not funny, man,” he said, causing you to laugh as you walked past him, “That’s, like, my worst fear.”

“Being assassinated?” You looked over your shoulder at Slater, giving him a look that screamed, ‘what the fuck?’.

“Yeah, exactly! Just like JFK, man. I’m driving around one day and BOOM, bullet right into my skull and killing me instantly.” He emphasized the word, pretending to shoot you with a fake sniper.

“Sorry to break it to you, Slate-man, but most stoner teens from small town America aren’t on any hit lists.” Angus said as he knocked on Pickford’s bedroom door, the boy needing to come up and unlock it for them all, “You don’t drive, either.”

“JFK wasn’t driving either, man, that’s some scary stuff.” Slater said, pointing a finger at him as he did.

“Be careful, Slater, if you think too hard about it, you might manifest it into reality,” you snickered as you followed Angus into Pickford’s bedroom.

“So, not funny.”

You’d all settled into the large bedroom room, with you sitting next to Angus on the bed and Slater on the floor just to your left. For the first few minutes, while Pickford had dug around in his stash, you talked with Michelle and looked at her in awe—to you, she was way cooler than Darla could ever be.

“Sample of the goods,” Pickford smiled as he sat in front of Michelle, the girl wrapping her legs and arms around him as he lit up the joint, passing it over to Slater, who was here for business.

The long-haired teen took a drag from the expertly-rolled joint, and you watched as he held the smoke in for a few seconds and narrowed his eyes. If there was anything that impressed you about Slater, it was the fact that the kid could be high 24/7 without getting sick from it. You were also sure that he could do a blind test and know what kind of strains he was smoking from memory.

“Fifteen bucks,” Pickford spoke up, handing the bag of loose flower to Slater, who then handed the joint to you.

With ease, you brought the end up to your lips and inhaled, the smoke moving deep into your lungs as you pulled away and exhaled. It wasn’t an instant high, but you could feel your shoulders relaxing as you passed it to Angus, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Hey man,” Slater leaned forward, looking between both of you, “Can you spot me a ten?”

Michelle and Pickford chuckled as both of you snapped your eyes at him, Angus humming in question as he hit the joint. “I’ll pay you, like, Tuesday and shit.” He said, smoking still coming out of his mouth, as he looked down at the five dollar bill he pulled out of his pocket.

“You owe me ten and a shake from Top Notch,” you told him as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your pocket, a permanent smile on your face as you slipped the bill to Pickford.

“Thank you,” Slater grinned, “I’ll definitely get you a shake, man, one of this big chocolate ones, but we gotta’ share it, alright? Those are my favourite.”

“Deal,” you giggled, having not realized how you’d settled nicely against Angus’ side, his left arm wrapping around you with his hand placed over your hip.

As the five of you started chatting about the party plans and passed around the joint once more, leaving your eyes half-lidded and glossy, there was a knock on Pickford’s bedroom door. You smacked your lips a couple of times, feeling the dryness accumulate in your mouth and desperately wishing you had a big glass of water with you.

“Hide this,” Angus passed the joint to you, which made you realize the knock was coming from his parents. A bit panicked, you looked down at the joint in your hands, then passed onto Michelle as Pickford rushed up and began hiding his paraphernalia into the depths of his dresser drawers.

“Who is it?” Pickford called out, his mother answering and explaining that he’d best come out there.

The entire situation left you feeling paranoid, rubbing a hand over your eyes as if that would hide the redness—you’d left your purse with Visine in Kaye’s truck. Angus got up and helped Pickford, spraying some air freshener around the room as you all adjusted yourselves into different areas. Michelle moved to the window ledge, Slater leaned back into the rounded chair and once Angus was back to sitting on the bed, you found yourself laying back on him with his arms wrapped around your waist and hands clasped on your stomach.

“Kevin, open the door.” His father’s voice boomed, making you shudder.

“It’s okay,” Angus’ deep voice murmured into your ear, leaving you shivering and feeling nervous for an entirely different reason now.

You sighed shakily, doing your best to relax as Pickford opened the door, his father looking miserable and furious. Quickly, you flickered your gaze away and tried not to listen in on the conversation, turning your head enough so you could look up at Angus. Slowly, you lifted a hand up, so your fingers could play with a couple of the curls that hung over his ears. The two of you stayed like that, smiling at each other like you were in love and acting like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Pickford dealt with the situation, which had to do with the delivery driver bringing kegs of beer to his house much earlier than the teen had anticipated. He was playing it off as coolly as he could, but when you glanced over, his father looked like he was about to explode any second. You so wished you were sober right now.

You smacked your dry again as the teen left the room, looking up at his father, who hadn’t moved. He looked over everyone, hands on his hips, “You guys know anything about a party here tonight?” He asked, flaring his nostrils as he waited for someone to confess.

There was a collective ‘no’ amongst all of you, shrugging it off as if that was a preposterous idea. You all sighed in relief when he left, Slater especially as he pulled out the baggy of weed he’d hidden in his shirt and tossed it onto the round table in front of him.

“Pickford is so dead,” you said aloud, looking at everyone.

“Fucking delivery driver. Never in my life have I seen those bastards arrive early,” Angus replied, shifting behind you as you all tried to listen in to the sound of Pickford’s father trudging down the stairs.

“You think the party is a bust?” Slater asked, his gaze flickering to Michelle.

The girl let out a sigh as she looked out the window and saw her boyfriend coming back inside as the delivery driver start putting the kegs back in his truck. The front door slammed, echoing within the house as if confirming everyone’s worst fears, “yeah.”

As the car pulled away from Pickford's house, you settled into the backseat, eyes closed, feeling the wind from the open windows cool your skin. Angus and Slater talked over their plans for the evening, but all you could think about was the warmth of Angus's arms wrapped around you earlier. It made you feel comforted, safe, and strangely excited. You wanted to go back to that moment, to tilt your head back and look into his eyes again and note the small details on his face that you’d never paid attention to before. To touch his curls again, letting your fingers get caught as you pull him into a kiss—

"Am I taking you home?" Angus's voice broke through your thoughts, and you met his gaze in the rearview mirror.

"Yes, please," you replied softly, sitting forward and feeling like everything around you was moving slower than reality, "so what's up for tonight?"

"Don’t know yet," Angus said, turning onto your block, "we're going to meet up with Pickford and Michelle, figure things out now that his parents are staying back from the trip. You sure you don’t want to come along?"

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. It was a tempting offer to spend more time with them, but you had other plans. "No, I'm good," you sighed, looking out onto the street as your house came into view, "Kaye is picking me up around eight, so I should go get ready. I’ll see you around, though?"

"Yeah, I'll be around," Angus replied with a smile that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Cool," you smiled back, reaching over to tousle his curls before sliding to the edge of the car. Slater jumped out to push the seat forward for you, and as you stepped out, you leaned forward against the door, looking through the open window.

"Bye, Angus," you said, a hint of playfulness in your voice, "See you later, Slater."

As you walked towards your house, you couldn't shake the excitement bubbling inside you. The night was full of possibilities, and you wondered what it would bring. But through the anticipation, a nagging thought lingered—the growing attraction between you and Angus.

Two sets of eyes watched as you walked to your house, disappearing through the front door.

“She’s so into you, man, I’ve never seen her act like that around Benny,” Slater spoke, nodding to himself as he glanced at Angus, “What are you gonna’ do?”

The teen sat there for a moment, thinking over the words as he shifted the car back into drive and sped down the street, hand gripping at the steering wheel as his mind filled with complications over the situation, “I don’t know.”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #the holdovers #the holdovers au #dazed and confused #angus tully fic #the holdovers fic #dominic sessa #wordsbyspatial

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