#brightens me up and makes my day oh so much better

[impeccablebackside]

how about competition plays? not overcrowded, but like three or four queens meeting up just to have this kind of fun. all of them have one vibrator/buttplug at one point for example, and who cums last (or first) is the winner.

This is an interesting question anon, and not something I have ever thought about. The concept of competition play is admittedly foreign to me, but it is not something that could be seen as that uncouth to be fair. Obviously, the structure of competing with someone else would be done in a very playful manner. Amongst the queens, none of them would really want to proverbially tarnish the fun they are having with a pressure to win / lose. Not that they would in all fairness.

Given you mention toys with this anon, I do implore that you read over some previous posts about toys / fucking machines when solo, toys with a partner, pussy pumps, and / or bigger toys. Those are not all of them either, as there was one about Vic and Rumple having some fun with toys (that will probably end up being a fic at one point), or one about the queens pegging their partners. Perhaps surprisingly, all of those were / are considered new ideas on the blog at the time, much like this ask (so thanks as always for dropping new ideas to explore anons).

The whole competition angle would be between friends, so I do appreciate the idea of only three or four queens being involved with this anon. More than that makes it too much and not really fun anymore, at least for me. I would like to think it would be between Vic, Rumple, and Tanto. I cannot really think of who could be a fourth when considering the other queens mentioned regularly on this blog, as none of them would mesh well with the three already mentioned.

For the purpose of this ask, and for relative simplicity, they will all have the same dildo / vibrator between all three of them for this 'competition'. If they would want to use their paws and fingers as well, I say it is fair game. The only real rule would be that the vibe has to be used the whole time, either in them or against some part of their pussy.

Anyway, all three of them would be quite turned on and excited about the whole thing when they do meet up. They all mutually lust after one or both of the two queens that are joining them, so the opportunity to see and hear them in such a tantalizing way is even more of an incentive to participate. I am trying to think if they would all line themselves up side-by-side on a bed or if they would arrange themselves in a triangle of sorts, legs all facing the other. Either would work, but I do like the triangle idea anon, because they get the wonderful visuals of seeing the other queen's pussies and asses as they are being pleasured.

Vic is unsurprisingly the first to win / lose. She simply is too sensitive, and does not have the stamina to go for long. Especially with a vibrator, she would be cumming with satisfied squeaks shortly after they begin. The constant stream of overwhelming pleasure focused on her pussy and clit is something she is not used to either, as she tends to prefer pauses and slower pacing so she does not get (over)stimulated easily. Being the loser is not that bad though, as she gets to watch the other two, particularly excited by being closer to Tanto in such a situation.

Adding to the fun, Rumple would grab Vic's vibe and put it in her mouth, delighting in the taste of the white queen as she continues to squirm under the pleasure from the vibrator. The smaller queen would start rubbing at herself, clearly encouraged by what she just did. Little moans, muffled by the mouthful, escape her pretty mouth as she continues. It is impressive in a way how much she can take and still remain relatively calm under the barrage of pleasure, choosing to tease the other two by letting Vic know how good she tastes as she pulls the vibe out of her mouth and just how hot Tanto's strong body is.

Rumple is not the second queen to lose though, as Tanto, who has lasted quite a bit longer than Vic, is unable to hold it off much longer. Zoned out up to this point as she focused on the building pleasure, the torbie breaks her concentration as she pulls her legs up with her arms to change her position. As her asshole and pussy clench hard with the constant buzz from the vibe, Tanto starts cumming in strong waves. He pussy pulsing uncontrollably, it gets forceful enough that she inadvertently pushes the vibrator right out of her. With a strong heave and a high pitched yell that pulls even more attention toward her, Tanto squirts over the other two astonished queens in multiple small sprays as she groans through the end of climax.

Needless to say, Rumple wins the contest, but for all of a few seconds. Little is a hot to the calico as what Tanto just did, and she savagely rubs herself off in excitement. With her little body shaking at all the pleasure, Rumple cums with desperate squeals due to her new efforts, but leaves the vibe in. She turns onto her stomach, fucking the vibe with slams of her hips. Very quickly, her body is heaving again as she is pushed into overstimulation by the buzzing vibe.

It is too much for Vic to sit idle at the turn of events, and with some meaningful fingering, she cums again with a squeal. Seeing Tanto squirt (for the first time or not) leaves sultry thoughts swimming through her head, and watching Rumple fuck herself like that is just too good to ignore.

Between all three queens, there are no losers, and maybe this little competition is justification for more. None of them would complain if they got their own attempts at seeing how quickly (or not) they could get the other two to fall apart. Maybe it is immediately following this or in the future. There is only more winning to be had.

#oh no anon this is really starting to sound like a hell of a concept for another fic #it is a pretty fucking good one so we will see #this got away from me very quickly once I started writing it out so yeah #no idea when the next fic will be out regardless so i appreciate all of your patience and of course all of the wonderful asks like this #i do not have much time off in the foreseeable future to focus on writing a fic but you never know when the initiative will hit #i keep (reportedly) upping myself with them so the pressure is on to make each new one better #in any capacity please send more thoughts and asks because they always brighten my day / week / month / life #thank you anon(s)

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, description of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

#inmaki #someone buy geto a new couch #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk crack #jjk smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto x reader #suguru fluff #satoru x reader #satoru smut #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujustsu kaisen x reader

[earthtooz]

fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou

during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.

the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.

“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.

your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.

“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.

“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.

“were ya waitin’ for me?”

you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”

“almost nine.”

“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”

his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”

“it’s okay, i get it.”

“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.

“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“

“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”

bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-

“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.

when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.

but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.

and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.

bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.

he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.

if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.

you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.

the second time, you wake up confused.

the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.

you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.

then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.

"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.

next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.

you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.

"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"

"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.

"promise me you'll never do this again."

cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"

"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."

you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."

he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."

"that's not realistic."

"watch me."

"okay then, deal."

there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.

(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.

you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.

you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.

you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.

you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)

the third time, you cry too.

it's your wedding day.

when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.

it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.

up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.

more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.

thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.

a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.

"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."

you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.

"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.

"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.

"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."

"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"

"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."

"i didn't know you could be a poet."

"only for you."

"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."

"i'll always be yours."

you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."

"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."

"your tears are dangerous."

"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."

"like i said, i can't wait."

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#don't talk to me abt this. this was so bad #lmk if there are warnings i missed #i'm pretty sure this is gn!reader i mean i'm gender neutral so hey if the shoe fits #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MAD — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. alcohols consumption (drunk! al-haitham), post argument, fluff, ft. kaveh a real one for dragging home a heavy ass muscle man

al-haitham is good at holding his alcohol—at least, he is unless you’re in the middle of an argument. if you’re both arguing, then he seems much less likely to stay sober.

tonight for example—you open your bedroom door when kaveh (not so quietly) awakens you with his incessant knocking, grumbling under your breath as you reach for the door knob and twist. before you can even fully open the door, a very drunk and very heavy al-haitham is handed to you to hold steady.

“here, he’s your headache now,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “i was supposed to be the heavy drinker of tonight,” he glares at al-haitham (who doesn’t help himself any further when he glares right back), “my day was far more stressful.”

“what draft are you on with this client?” you ask sympathetically.

kaveh flares his nostrils as he grumbles, “six!”

“maybe seven will be the charm,” you hum, chuckling, “i’ll get this headache of mine to bed.”

“please do,” he nods, “and i wish a terrible hangover on him in the morning too.”

with that, the door is shut, and you hear kaveh walk off and slam his as he grumbles some more about the drunk mess in your arms. at least you and kaveh have that much in common tonight—a shared irritation for the akademiya’s ever so charming scribe.

(truthfully, it’s hardly an accurate description at the moment—al-haitham’s charms are currently little to none after earlier.)

“you’re not doing yourself favors,” you turn your attention to you boyfriend, who stumbles a little as he buries his head into your neck. it’s a tad bit adorable—but then you remember the know-it-all attitude from earlier and decide you’re mad again. “disrupting my sleep for your lightweight habits isn’t a good way to apologize.”

“not a lightweight,” he slurs—and then he pulls away and pouts, “still mad?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“very.”

“‘s not nice,” he huffs, burying his face back into your neck.

you can feel the way his lips are curled into a pout as they kiss your neck, and even though you’d like to say you have better self control, you can’t help but wrap your arms around him. it’s just to keep him from falling, you reason—just because you’re mad at him doesn’t mean you want him to potentially fall and break something, and that would only mean taking care of him more, which you do not need right now.

“you know what else wasn’t nice? telling me i’m wrong when i’m right,” you huff, “and then arguing that i’m wrong even though you know i’m right.”

“said i was sorry,” he almost whines—drunk al-haitham has at least a few perks. one of them is how much more affectionate he is, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your cheek. “you’re soft,” he hums, “love you.”

“you smell like beer. go to bed,” you grunt, trying (and failing) to pull away and guide him to the bed. you don’t make it two steps before he’s latched back to your body.

“say it back,” he gasps, “say it.”

“al-haitham,” you groan, “you can’t be serious—”

“haitham,” he corrects, “supposed to call me haitham.”

“would you like to sleep on the couch, haitham?” you ask with a dry smile on your face, eyes narrowed as he shakes his head. he tucks it into the crook of your neck, sighing happily as he inhales your scent.

“no, ‘s not good f’my back.”

“your back is the least of your concerns right now,” you mumble bitterly. “okay, let’s get you undressed.”

“you’re not mad?” he brightens up immediately at your words, taking them entirely out of context. his lips lean in to press against yours as his hands snake under your shirt, making you huff and slap his hands away as you turn your head and force his lips to meet your cheek.

“oh, i’m still very mad. don’t even think you’re getting anything tonight,” you scold.

for the nth time tonight, he pouts. and truthfully, you’re only human at the end of the day. if the akademiya’s usually stoic and composed scribe—who happens to be your equally as stoic and composed boyfriend—seems to pout this many times in one night….well, it would make anyone’s resolve crumble. even someone who’s angry after an argument—someone much like you.

“you’re a lot cuter when you’re drunk, you know that?” you giggle, poking his cheek lightly. he hums, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your skin as he leans more weight into you.

“aren’t i always cute?”

“not when you’re stubborn.”

“‘m cute,” he argues, “y’think ‘m cute, right?”

“no,” you grin, just to tease him. it’s a bit fun—pulling those wide eyes and curled lips from him, pulling that slightly crestfallen look that only a drunk al-haitham would let you witness.

it’s not too mean to let yourself indulge in this just once, is it?

“don’t be rude,” he slurs, “love you. say it back?”

“say please,” you tease, chuckling as your fingers thread through his hair.

he seems to brighten when you offer him a bit of affection, leaning into your touch as he sighs happily. “please,” he says politely, pressing a kiss to your skin before adding, “‘m sorry,” for good measure.

“how sorry?”

you plan on dragging this out for as long as you can—is it morally correct to take advantage of your drunk boyfriend? perhaps not….but no one is perfect, and you’re no exception.

“really sorry,” he mumbles, squeezing your hips.

“sorry enough to do the dishes for the week?”

“mhm,” he nods.

“kaveh’s too,” you add, with a satisfied grin on your face.

he nods, mumbling a quiet, “okay. kaveh’s too,” without question.

“how much do you love me?”

“a lot,” he says slowly, and by now, he’s leaning enough weight in you that you can tell he’ll fall asleep any moment. so you chuckle, pulling him along slowly before letting his body hit the mattress.

“this is my side of the bed,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes, but he doesn’t seem to hear you as he closes his eyes and sighs when your hand cups his cheek and rubs the warm, flushed skin. “do you love me more than you love being right?”

“mhm,” he hums, half awake as his eyes droop, “say it back now.”

“i love you too,” you finally crack, leaning in and kissing his lips briefly, “even if you’re rude and impossible.”

“‘m still cute,” he rebuttals, “right?”

“oh yes,” you giggle, “the cutest.”

“good,” he nods. and then his eyes close, and he’s snoring lightly, cheek still pressed against your hand.

you’re supposed to be mad, maybe even give him the silent treatment for a bit—but then you watch him sleep peacefully, the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips when your fingers thread through the sweaty locks of hair. regretfully, you can’t stay mad, not when it’s al-haitham—and especially not when it’s drunk al-haitham.

“you’re such a headache,” you mumble, kissing his forehead before joining him on the bed and tucking into his side.

and when he wakes up in the morning, with what is hopefully the awful hangover kaveh wished upon him, you’ll make sure to remind him of his agreement to do the dishes. kaveh’s too.

if u try to tell me al-haitham isn’t a clingy and affectionate drunk, ur wrong. he’s so babie after he drinks

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader

[lizkreates]

Reflection ~A Trigun fan comic~ (Comic Script in the Keep Reading)

Context note: This takes place just after the events of TriMax Vol 10 on Brad’s ship going to December. I’m giving them more time on the trip because Livio grew a full-ass beard between pickup and drop-off (prob because of his healing factor, who knows.) Enjoy!

Vash's coffee is a reference to my first comic Black Coffee & Donuts!

Comic Script for Reflection: A Trigun Fan Comic

PAGE 1

Panel 1: Vash, with his hair down and dressed in his black undersuit, wakes up startled in a cold sweat. He clearly slept poorly bags under his eyes. It’s only been a day or two since he laid Wolfwood to rest.

Panel 2: A full body shot of him stepping out of the bed, his Colt weight down his hip, face obscured.

Panel 3: He leans over the counter in front of a mirror, shoulders hunched, head hanging.

Panel 4: He looks up, hand covering the remaining blonde of his hair so it appears full black. Large pale portraits of Rem and Wolfwood flank Vash on each side in the background.

Vash: Rem, Wolfwood, you both sacrificed everything. Funny isn’t it that I’m beginning to look more like you?

PAGE 2

Panel 1: Vash flashes back to a moment when he and Wolfwood walked side by side in the arid desert of No Man’s Land.

Vash: Wolfwood, you were there every day by my side, now I'm alone again. 

Panel 2: Another flashback to a moment Vash and Wolfwood sat on the edge of a rooftop and looked out over the cityscape to the stars pricking the sky.

Vash: There was so much unsaid between us.

Panel 3: A fresh flashback to the couch, where Vash held Wolfwood's hand in his final moments.

Vash: I wish I had known how to tell you that I loved you before it was too late.

Panel 4: A dramatic crop of half of Vash’s lower face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cries out.

PAGE 3

Panel 1: Livio, a tall, tan, broad-shoulder, white-haired man with a tribal tattoo over his left eye, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, bursts through the bedroom door concerned.

Livio: Mr. Vash, I heard crying, are you okay?!

Panel 2: Vash looks over, a little comically rattled and surprised

Vash: Livio?

Panel 3: Close-up of Vash’s lower face smiling, a tear rolling down his face.

Vash: I’m alright.

Panel 4: A blank Panel, filled with still air

Vash: Actually.

Panel 5: Big Panel, Vash crying into the crook of his arm.

Vash: I'm not... I miss him. I can’t stop missing him.

PAGE 4

Panel 1: Vash rubs the tears from his eyes, Livio grabs his arm shamefully, his body language clearly showing regret and discomfort.

Livio: I’ll uh, leave you to it, and see myself out.

Vash: It’s okay, I just didn’t want anyone to see me like this.

Panel 2: Close-up of Livio looking down.

Livio: It’s better to let yer feelin’s out than to hide ‘em and let ‘em fester, I should know.

Panel 3: Livio turns to the side and a sad snot stream runs down his nose he was trying to keep in. Livio is very much struggling allowing himself to miss Wolfwood. He doesn’t feel like, he should even though he desperately does.

Sounds effects: sniff

Vash: Now who’s keeping in their feelings? Let it out! He was your friend too, wasn’t he? You deserve to cry too.

Panel 4: Livio smiles sheepishly. He wants to make Wolfwood proud of him first.

Livio: Yeah, I suppose he was, all this time. But I don’t think I’ve earned that right yet.

Panel 5: Livio’s stomach growls LOUDLY. Draw in a chibi style, breaking the tension.

Sound effects: grumble

Panel 6: Drawn in chibi style, Vash waves around his noddle arms and Livio’s mood brightens, grinning with excitement.

Vash: Oh, are you hungry?

Livio: Hell yeah, I am!

Vash: What would you like?

Livio: Uh, pancakes!

Vash: Alright, pancakes it is!

PAGE 5

Panel 1: They sit down and eat at a retro 50s-style diner booth in a small nook of the ship. Livio swirls the last of his pancake in syrup on the plate. Vash cradles a black coffee with both hands looking at Livio.

Vash: Hey, Livio, what do you want to do when this is all over?

Livio: Dunno, maybe wander around for a while or return to the orphanage to help make up for what I and the other guy did.

Panel 2: Livio hangs his head, eyebrows worried.

Livio: If I can be honest with ya, I'm scared to face them.

Panel 3: Zoomed out drawn in chibi style to break the tension. Livio shivers.

Vash: Is that scarier than Elendira?

Sound effects: shivers

Panel 4: They laugh.

Livio: Well, when ya put it like, hell no!

Vash: Haha!

Panel 5: Extreme close-up of Livio’s eyes softening as he remembers back to his time at the orphanage.

Livio: I think he’d like that. They were my first real family.

Panel 6: Vash is hit with a sudden realization, Livio has no one right now. In a misty background, he remembers when Razlo cried out after Wolfwood did in Master Chapel.

Vash (internal): Wolfwood, you left Livio in my care... so we wouldn’t be alone.

Razlo (background): ...I’m all alone again!

PAGE 6

Panel 1: Close-up of Vash with the sincerest smile.

Vash: I hope you know you’re not alone. You have me now.

Panel 2: Livio’s face contorts sorrowfully.

Livio/Razlo (internal): I don’t deserve this.

Livio: Mr. Vash I --

Vash: Wait, before you say anything...

Panel 3: Zoom out so we can see both of them and the table. Vash extends his leg as he digs deep into his pants pocket. Livio leans on the table watching him.

Vash: I know that we don’t know each other well yet, but he trusted you with me and I trusted him, wholly and completely, so…

Panel 4: Extreme close-up, Vash pulls out 2 black leather wristbands with silver latches.

PAGE 7

Panel 1: Vash offers Livio a wristband while holding one for himself in the same hand.

Vash: Here. One for you, one for me. I used a strap from his cross to make it, so part of him will always be with us.

Panel 2: Livio puts the wristband on his left hand.

Livio: Thank you.

Panel 3: Extreme close-up of Livio’s non-tattooed eye, tears pricking his lashes.

Livio: I hope one day I can repay yer kindness.

Panel 4: They fist bump wristbands in view.

Vash: Welcome to the family, Livio.

PAGE 8

Panel 1: A large portrait of Wolfwood with his sunglasses and back turned, fills the background, smiling as he holds his cigarette in his hand.

Livio: Hey, Mr. Vash?

Vash: Mm?

Livio: Would you mind tellin’ me a lil more about him… Wolfwood? Ya see, we were close at the orphanage as kids, but I don’t know who he became. I’ll understand if you don’t want to, you owe me absolutely nothin’.

Panel 2: A close-up of Vash’s coffee, Wolfwood’s staple morning drink, Vash’s reflection smiles back, tears in his eyes.

Vash: I’d love to.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: Bonus! Sometime later.  Drawn in chibi style.

Livio: Can I hug ya?

Vash: Sure, buddy!

Panel 2: They hug, Vash smiles, and Livio whimpers as he lets out the waterworks. He’s thankful for Vash’s kindness.

Panel 3: This sets Vash off, who also sobs. They cry in each other’s arms.

#Trigun #Trigun Maximum #TriMax #spoilers #Trigun Spoilers #Vashwood #Vash #Vash the Stampede #Livio #Livio the Double Fang #Nicholas D Wolfwood #Wolfwood #my art #tw character death mention #food #TrigunStampede #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE GUNG-HO-GUNS #sorry for any choppy dialogue #shoved a lot in here but wanted to touch on Trigun's running themes like loneliness and family #and Vash being heart wrenchingly kind #vash privately mourning wolfwood was a good move on nightow's part but my guy I needed to see some tears to fill the hole in my heart #take that trust line as you will to fit your narrative :3 #i love these 3 idiots (affectionate) a lot and I can't fit all I want to say in the tags #this spawned from an art mistake I noticed in the manga #livio's wristbands changed from 2 to 3 at some point #it looked suspiciously like a strap from Wolfwood's cross and the rest is history #and i needed more bonding time between vash and livio #and for them to know they aren't alone in this fight #i 100% think livio would struggle mourning ww and becoming worthy to do so #I needed this so maybe someone needs it too

[sixosix]

wc 900, guys i’m still a 4.0 lore player so forgive me if lyney’s getting ooc now 🙁 but anw ENJOY THIS MESS OF A GUY!! requested by anon

or, lyney can't stop staring at your lips

Lyney is beginning to think he might be obsessed with you. Or that you’re bad for him.

He’s stumbling over his lines when he sees you in the audience, his fingers catch on each other when he catches you smiling knowingly, and he gets nervous—the most absurd tell. It’s unlike him to feel his heart pounding in his ears when he’s already started the show. None of this feels natural.

It gets to the point where Lynette has to drag him off after a scene, worry evident on her usually-passive features.  “What’s happening to you?”

“I think I might be going insane,” Lyney admits, running his hand across his face. “I can feel it, Lynette. I’ve gone mad.”

All because you kissed him and he damn near exploded on the spot.

It wasn’t a special kiss. There wasn’t even tongue involved. He didn’t even see it coming. Hell, it was half a second and only on the side of his lips. Can it even be counted as a kiss?

If kisses could drive Lyney to a point where he can’t stop thinking about your lips, it might.

Lyney makes a pitiful noise, like a wounded animal. Lynette sighs heavily, as in relief that it’s not anything serious. But it is something serious. How is he supposed to move on in his life when you’re the only thing running through his head?

“Lynette,” Lyney cries, “this isn’t normal. I’ve caught something. Check my temperature.”

“You’re lovesick,” she replies simply, batting the hand that’s trying to get her to place her palm on his forehead. “and you have a show to finish. Get it together, brother.”

Get it together. Yeah, he can do that—if the object of his desires isn’t seated in the front row. But for now, Lynette is glaring daggers, stern like a mother, and Lyney sucks it up and makes a point of avoiding your eyes later on.

Avoiding your eyes usually means staring at other parts of your face.

Lyney feels the last bit of his sanity chip away when you decided it would be a splendid idea to wear something glossy over your lips, as if he wasn’t already distracted enough as is. You have got to be doing this on purpose.

Your tongue swipes over your bottom lip. He feels lightheaded.

“You look desperate,” Lynette tells him, which is frankly enough to make him want the ground to swallow him whole.

This also gets to a point where Freminet pulls him aside and asks him if he’s feeling sick. He feels like it. Lovesick and desperate, as Lynette so elegantly put it.

How embarrassing. Is this what you’ve reduced him to? Freminet looked at him with all wide, worried eyes, and Lyney can’t outright say the reason for his predicament. He excuses that he feels tired, and he doesn’t mention that his lips are feeling incredibly lonely.

Freminet, precious and understanding and thankfully unaware, nods and says, “I hope you feel better soon.” Lyney finds that unlikely, but he thanks him anyway. “Oh, and you should look behind you.”

Lyney turns and finds you waving at him, gesturing for him.Your fingers curl and it almost looks like you’re calling for a pet. And Lyney, weak and obsessed Lyney, follows without a second thought. Try as he might, he can never stay too long away from you, because as much as you’re driving him crazy, seeing you, hearing you, is enough to brighten his entire day and momentarily forget you’re the reason why he almost messed up with his lines.

He stands before you with a bit of distance. You want him gone so you pull him by the collar until his head is dipped down.

“You look feverish,” you say. Feverish, desperate, the list could go on and on.

I feel like it, Lyney wants to say; instead, his words are caught on the tip of his tongue as your eyes trace over his entire face. He feels as if he’s laying himself bare for you, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it at all, not when he’s soaking up your attention like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

“Hey,” you whisper, a testament to your proximity, a smirk on your face, “my eyes are up here, Lyney.”

Lyney frowns, feeling petulant now that he’s aware of your schemes. “I’m not being indecent; please don’t phrase it like that.” Or is it worse that he’s ogling your mouth?

You laugh brightly, and he melts just a little. “You’re too obvious, Lyney.” He loves it when you say his name. He’s addicted to how your mouth carves his name. A poke on his cheek startles him enough to look up to your eyes, shame crawling in his cheeks. “See? You’re doing it again.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Lyney.” You have got to stop doing that. Then again, he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose seeing how it affects him terribly. “If you want something, take it. Don’t stand around and do nothing about it.”

Lyney’s breath hitches, his blush climbing higher from his neck to his entire face. “Don’t just say that.” He can’t handle your crooked grin. He pulls you to his chest and buries his face on your neck—if it’s to keep your face away or to hide his expression, no one would be able to tell. “You can’t just say that.”

“I know what I’m saying. Don’t take me for a fool.”

Your lips brush his. His mind blanks. You’re bad for him—you have to be, but everything that comes after feels natural, at least.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin x you #x reader

[morgana-ren]

I DONT KNOW IF YOU WRITE FULL FICS BUT IF YOU DO PLEASE WIRTE ONE ABOUT TGAT LAST ASK.

Just about Astarion sitting in his throne of sorts, in the palace, with tav sitting in his lap. He’s bored, tav sits there- dissociating and wishing they were anywhere else. He asks them if they’d like to do something fun and they say something like “Only if you do my lord” and he saddens some, expecting them to come up with something fun like they used to but they can’t think of anything that he would approve of them doing after so many years of breaking them down and he realizes it’s gotten so dull because tav was the person that brightened his life

"Awfully dull today, hmm? How would you like to do something fun, my love?"

It's an oh-so rare quiet day in the Crimson Palace, and his favorite source of amusement sits placidly on his lap, silent as the grave and still atop him. Content as he is in the peaceful quiet with solely her company, he'd spend the day with her doing– well, something, surely. It’s been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves to truly enjoy each other’s company alone. In fact, he cannot recall the last time with any distinct accuracy.

It seems so terribly long since they've had any time to themselves. Being a Lord keeps you awfully busy.

In a tender moment, he reaches forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear with a long, pale finger. She doesn’t react save a slight instinctual flicker of her lashes. Not a hint of expression on her face. He expects her to lean into his touch as she used to and is almost shocked when she does not.

Odd, he thinks. She hardly even seems to notice anything at all.

It’s almost like she isn’t entirely present.

Still, before he can chastise her, she responds to his bid for her attention.

"If that is your wish, my lord,” She responds to his question, lifeless and monotone. Perfectly obedient, just as befits her, and yet—

He frowns, just a little. It irks him, but now that he thinks about it, he cannot recall the last time he saw enthusiasm on her face– or much of anything at all aside from the blank, hollow mask she has now. Completely impassive and unresponsive in a cruel sort of practiced indifference. 

He studies her for a moment and comes to the conclusion that it reminds him of the robots they found in that strange tower in the Underdark so long ago. Programmed to respond to the right things and make the right moves, but utterly incapable of acting on her own whims. Eternally awaiting instruction. 

Empty. Robotic. Precise and yet disingenuous somehow. Eerily so.

Has she been like this before? Has he simply not noticed?

Perhaps she just needs to awaken a little more. It was such a long night, and he had kept her remarkably busy. She must be exhausted, but surely, she will perk up. She always does. 

Doesn’t she?

“Come, darling. What would you like to do?” He jostles his knees, dandling her on his legs like one might a small, particularly grumpy child. She bumps up and down, only reaching to steady herself on the sides of his throne. 

“Whatever would please you would please me, my lord.”

He groans, rolling his red eyes, a very sudden burst of irritation bubbling in his gut. Always with the My lord, My lord, scraping and bowing like some sort of indentured serf. Proper respect is important, of course, but for the first time in a while— longer than he can honestly think back on, to be honest— they are entirely alone. He is her Lord, yes, but she knew him by another name once– did know him by another name. She knows better than to tease him in front of his vassals but surely—

He can’t remember the last time she said his name. 

His real name. 

How long since he has truly sat by her side and talked with her? Spent time with her? He's been so busy, laying plans and waste, conquering and shedding blood of those who oppose him. The Lord Tyrant, come to rule over his dominion of Eternal Night. She is always by his side, never straying and yet— 

(“I love you, Little Star,” She’d laugh, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, which would promptly crinkle in annoyance. 

“I’m not ‘Little Star,’ and I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that.” 

“That’s what your name means, doesn’t it? Little Star? Or perhaps Little Starlight– I don’t really remember.”

“Then why make that my pet name?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the use of his own childish moniker that follows him like a shadow to anyone who speaks even a lick of his native language. "Of all the things your brilliant little mind can concoct, you give me a child’s handle? I’m strong, dashing, capable, handsome, fearsome– but instead you choose that absurdity” 

“Because you’re my little star!” And she would smile so brightly that it seemed impossible in the darkness, and he could not help but smile himself. “My light in the darkness. My Astarion, for as long as you want to be. And I love you.” 

His expression would soften once again and he would simply sigh, pulling her close to kiss her temple. The night was cold, but she was so impossibly warm against him, somehow fitting perfectly in his lap and into his heart, where she’d wormed her way in against his own will. The dim firelight reflects in her eyes as she tells him again that she loves him forever if he’ll have her, and he can think of nothing he’d desire more than to ride out the endless night of eternity with her here on his lap, cradled close.)

Something gnaws at him. Something raw and edged with a vicious sort of misery he’d done so well to avoid in ages. He cannot place it but as he looks at her, his stomach is as a dark, abyssal pit, circling and swelling like a maelstrom. 

Something is wrong.

He cannot place the negative emotion, and so he does as he always does now, making the strange yearning her responsibility to soothe. 

He lashes out at her. 

“I’m growing bored,” He says with a cold, cruel edge to his voice. “You know how much I dislike boredom, don't you, darling?"

What he seeks is a reaction. A sudden spark of life from within her. For her to grab his hand and take him to do— to do something. Surely—

And yet, with a motion so fluid that it implies an aged and practiced skill, she slides from his lap down to her knees before him, reaching towards the laces of his breeches. There is nothing behind her eyes as she extends her hand forward to unlace him, hardly even seeing him. Nothing at all. 

“What are you doing?” He slaps her hands away, scowling down at her, taken back by her brashness. 

“You said you were bored, my Lord.”

“And why would you think–” 

Because that is what he’d taught her. 

That her body was built for his amusement; his temple to defile at will. Because of the cold nights in the castle after so many years where he would reach for her, and she would quiver and shake her head with eyes rimmed red and puffy and beg to be left untouched and yet he would speak the words without thinking and she would bend for him any way he wished. 

Because even as she would obey, she would cry and turn away, and he would give it little thought until one night the crying and protesting simply stopped. He thought she had learned. Made peace with her duties and loyalty to him and what it entailed. Mayhaps she had come to realize that her theatrics had little impact on him and surely, he wasn’t so wretched to her now that these waterworks were necessary. His touch could not repulse her so that her weeping was remotely acceptable. She loves him, surely she—

Because he would command her until she would kneel, and so now, she kneels without command.

He sighs, breathing the fire from his lungs, reaching down to pull her back up into his lap. She does not respond, only obeys in kind to his guiding instruction as he settles her back down on his legs. He finds a semblance of patience from within himself which is a strange and unusual feeling, mustering it up to once again ask:

“My dear, what is it that you would like to do?” 

Her head cocks. She does not understand. 

"What would you enjoy? If you had the freedom to do anything, what might it be?"

It takes a moment, but for the first time, a reaction: Confusion. It is slow to take hold but becomes blaringly apparent as it does. It is not as if she doesn’t know the answer, but almost as if she doesn’t understand the question. 

“Whatever you would like to do, my Lo–”

“No, no, darling. What is it you would like to do?” He impresses, harsher this time, and she flinches, recoiling from… something. 

From him.  

If her heart was still capable of beating, he'd be able to hear the way it pumps into overdrive. As it stands, he cannot, but he is aware no less. Her scent changes entirely around him to something that has his brows furrowing. Shortness of breath, dilating pupils, hands beginning to quake— Adrenaline. Steel-edged anxiety. As if this is not a question at all, but rather a test and she does not know the answer, and failure means his displeasure and his displeasure means–

"I— What would you—" She hard-swallows, harrowed by the open-endedness of the question. "—I want what—"

("Come to the meadow with me, Asto," She would grab his hand with a mischievous smile when their compatriots were fast asleep, tugging him up from the comfort of his bedroll. "I want you to come with me."

"It's late, darling. Wouldn't you rather come here and lie with me?" He would try to tug her back down playfully, but would fall against her aggressive temerity, being pulled to his feet through her sheer will. She would stifle her giggling with a hand as she guided him past their slumbering companions, through the tree line and deep into the forest. 

"Come on, lazy boy, come! Come with me!"

"Well, I'm trying to—"

She would hush him and yank him by the wrist, out into the field where he'd first had her, down once more into a bed of wildflowers and long grass. Her melodic laugh like a strange song as she yanks him to the ground despite his weak protests until she would lie her head on his chest and trace gentle patterns on his white shirt against his flexed chest. 

"We don't have to come all the way out here to make love, darling—" He would move to try to kiss her, but she would adamantly press her head against his torso, insisting he stay down in the dirt with her. 

"I'm not trying to seduce you," She would giggle, pointing at the star-spangled sky. "I want to lie under the stars with you." 

"But… why?"

"Because I know we'll have eternity to do it, but it's my favorite moon tonight and it reminded me of you."

He squints, struggling to find anything different about it at all. "I don't notice anything, darling. It looks very much like the moon we see every night." 

"It's so full and bright! Look at the rays!" She holds her hand out as if to cradle a silvery moonbeam in her palm. "It reminds me of the color of your hair." 

She reaches over him to delicately pluck something from the grass, tucking it gingerly behind his ear after she does so. "These poppies are the same beautiful deep red of your eyes in the moonlight. I feel safe here; home, with you. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. Just the two of us."

He would wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing so tightly that she would gasp and worm about, trying to return the favor, and yet he would not relent. 

"I want you to feel safe with me," he would whisper into her hair, desperately trying to memorize the scent of it, as if expecting Bhaal himself to come and steal her from his frantic embrace. "Now and forever, I want to feel home in your arms, with you.")

He thinks, for a moment, to return to that meadow, and that perhaps his love— the one he remembers— will return to him. As if her ghost still lingers there, trapped and waiting to be rescued. 

He can’t. 

It is not a meadow any longer, but a battlefield, not unlike the vile destruction left in Ketheric's wake at Raithewait; another one in a million places sacrificed in his conquest for glory, littered with bodies and bones. A graveyard tribute to his power, scorched soil and dead grass. No flowers bloom there anymore— there is nowhere for them to bloom between the suffocating aura of death. 

All that is left is a beautiful memory buried beneath a river of dried blood, and you cannot water flowers with dried blood or wean them on bone dust. That meadow is one moment suspended in time as trapped in amber, impossible to claw free from its temporal prison. He cannot remember the last time he saw that jovial smile she had saved just for him in that damned meadow. 

He cannot recall the last time she said the words "I love you" and cried his name as a preternaturally beautiful siren song without being commanded. 

He frowns, feeling something strange and haunting in his chest. Something viciously clawing up his throat as he looks at her: at her empty red eyes that were once the most beautiful color, full of love and life when she looked upon him; at her contorted expression that used to be as radiant as the sun and he could have sworn that her light could have sustained him through the dark, miserable nights of his eternal curse if only she was by his side; at the frailty of her body that almost seems to creak and break beneath his weight. 

"My love, look at me."

And she does, if not by command, then by instinct. 

"Smile for me, will you? Can you do that for me?" 

And she does, her lips turning upward and raising to reveal two sharp teeth— and nothing more. It's uncanny and revolting and wrong. There is nothing behind her eyes, nothing at all. No light, no life, and certainly no love. 

He used to be able to see himself in her eyes. How her heart sang for him, cheeks blossoming with blood at the sight of him. He could hear her heart rabbit behind her ribs, her hands quaking with excitement to touch him even in the most innocent of ways. Through her eyes, he found his own value— his own worth— and finally began to understand that he deserved love; he deserved happiness. She had healed him, giving almost all of herself to do it, selflessly and without asking for anything in return even as he despised himself and refused his own agency—

And she stares at him now with soulless eyes, he is left to wonder if he has taken too much from her in his quest to take everything. Wonders if she will ever be that lovestruck, moon-eyed girl again, wanting nothing more than to lie under the moonlit meadow with him. If she will ever kiss his eyelids as a delicate butterfly and whisper eternity in his ear. If she will ever feel safe and home and loved around him again in his embrace–

Save she is no longer quaking with anticipation at his touch, but trembling from fear, lost and terrified at the posing of a simple question. Her scent is foreign even as it is familiar and he cannot recall when it began to change. There is something in her eyes that haunts him, and though he can see himself within him, what stares back is not him. A terrible realization rakes knives down his soul, a gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole. A tightening in his lungs, and even as he does not breathe, he does not believe he could even if he tried. 

“Darling?” 

“Yes, my Lord?” 

Her face is impassive once more. Perfect porcelain expression. Not a crack in the mask. Not a wrinkle in the facade. Practiced day in and day out until it becomes real. He remembers it well.

How long has it been? How long since he has looked at her? Truly looked at her? Spoken to her? Told her he loved her? 

Showed her he loves her?

When was the last day he did not command from her that which she begged not to willingly give?

He cannot remember. He cannot recall. 

He demanded and she had no choice but to give. More and more and more. He drained her dry and now where was once his sacred oasis, there is nothing at all. No matter how long he looks, there is never a flicker of anything in her glassy eyes. 

He wonders if even as he has gotten everything he has ever wanted, he lost the one thing he needed. 

It paralyzes him. For the first time in an ageless eternity, he feels something: Panic. 

Even his endless power cannot bring her back. His beloved is dead, and he has killed her. Upon him sits a pretty corpse, empty and devoid of all that made her her. A doll with her face. A doll with barely even that. 

Her laugh, her smile. Her passion and desire and love. The tenderness inside of her and the warmth she once held. Everything that pulled him from his shell and showed him how to love once more. He bloomed in her light– and then snuffed it out entirely. 

How long has it been? How long has she been gone?

Though she may be undying, he realizes with horror akin to a dawning sun that she is gone– and has been for some time. 

“You seem stressed, my Lord? How can I make you happy again?”

Second part of the story HERE

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #literally whatever you want it to be #very bad implications here do not read if sensitive #bad mean astarion #sort of #lots of mistakes here fellas #i TOLD yall i was having a tough time writing #this needed more time and work but man I just CANNOT focus #you get the gist right #this needed more detail and to be longer but i was struggling here #god i need medicine or something #one down about 399 more to go lmao

[thestoryofusstan]

I Wanna Be Yours

pairing: boss!ceo!harry styles x reader

request: Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??

summary: harry is the notoriously mean owner of pleasing, and he might have a slight soft spot for the new girl in the marketing department.

warnings: cursing, not edited

--

you were extremely new to pleasing, a very famous brand known for their nail polishes and perfumes. ever since you started (about three months ago), you’d hear literal horror stories about the founder and ceo.

rachel, the girl who trained you, told you that he was just plain rude. it was safe to say you feared the day he came in. thankfully, he wasn’t around much. not at your location, anyway. you were at the los angeles location, but he preferred to stay at the new york one.

tuesday morning, you got ready like every day. put on your usual outfit (a skirt, white button-up, a blazer, and heels), along with some black fleece-lined tights and a headband to push your hair back. it was getting cold out, and you couldn’t get away with just a skirt much longer.

with your iced coffee in one hand, your macbook and a few files you’d taken home in the other, you walked quickly into the building.

“good morning, miss townes,” the concierge greeted you.

“morning, nancy!” you greeted back as you ran to the elevator and pressed the button.

“late?” nancy asked.

“almost! this stupid elevator—“ said elevator dinged, and you let out a sigh of relief. “speak of the devil. see you, nance!”

—

by the time you made it up to the marketing floor (the twentieth floor out of fifty), you were exactly on time.

you moved as quickly as your heels would allow, dropping your car keys, computer, and files onto the desk.

“right on time, y/n,” rachel teased as you sat down. the two of you had cubicles right next to each other.

“long line at the coffee shop.”

“lucky you weren’t any later,” she commented as you sat down and took a generous sip of the iced coffee that had almost made you late, “mr. styles is said to be coming in today.”

you nearly choked on your drink.

“you finished those edits, right?”

“.. uh.. yeah. yeah, finished them last night,” you lied with a nod.

“y/n! he’s ruthless— he will literally fire you! that’s the new launch, and it’s overdue!”

“i know! i know, but i’ve been so busy, and fucking josh keeps making me do his shit—“

“oh shit, shut up. he’s here.”

“what?” you squeaked, quickly cleaning up your desk and opening the new launch photos on both the desktop and your personal computer.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched as what had to be mr. styles strolled through with an assistant who was talking about what you assumed was his schedule.

“you’ll have a meeting with the investors at three, and we have some papers to sign—“

you tuned her out as you tried to speed up the editing— brightening colors and adjusting the text so it fit better.

and suddenly, the footsteps of mr. styles and his assistant stopped. directly in front of your desk.

“you,” a voice spoke, and oh my god, he was british, “i don’t know you. who are you?”

your eyes snapped up to meet his, “oh. uh.. i’m y/n.. y/n townes. i’m.. um.. i’m new.”

he mouthed your name as if thinking it over.

“you’re the one doing the edits for the new launch?” he asked.

“yes, sir.”

he nodded before continuing his stroll. because, of fucking course, his office had to be on the marketing floor.

you let out a breath, sinking into your chair. rachel grabbed your arm with a comforting smile, “it’s okay, babes. he could’ve been rude.”

“he’s gonna see i’m not done and fire me!”

“it’s fine, just don’t think about it.”

—

right as you were about to head out on a quick lunch break, mr. styles’ assistant popped up at your desk.

“ms. townes, mr. styles requested your presence in his office. you, as well, ms. evans,” she said, glancing at you and rachel.

“uh— me? for.. for what?” you questioned.

“you’ll find out. i have to find a.. josh richardson. go on.”

you and rachel shared uneasy looks as the two of you stood and made your way to mr. styles’ office.

“if i get fired, i’m jumping out of a window,” you muttered as rachel pulled the door open.

“ah, ms. evans. ms. townes…. where is mr. richardson?” mr. styles spoke.

“your assistant went to grab him,” rachel answered. “what are we needed for?”

“you’ll see… ah, mr. richardson. so kind of you to join us.”

even you could tell he did not mean that.

“what is this?” josh asked, looking to you and rachel.

“you three were all put in charge of the new launch. correct?”

you all chorused variations of yes.

“and yet… nothing is done. why is that?”

you glanced to your shoes. you knew rachel was done. the whole project was all three of you were to make 300 campaigns and promo photos for the new nail polish launch. you'd devided it to be 100 each, and you all picked however many billboard designs, posters, social media posts, and so-ons that you'd do for the project. however, josh had slowly but surely pushed all of his work onto you.. until you had to do 200, and you only had around 130 done.

“i expect an answer.”

“i.. i finished all my photos and campaigns,” rachel finally said.

“i'm nearly done with.. my things. i was just helping josh before i--“

“so.. what i’m hearing so far, and correct me if i’m wrong, is that mr. richardson hasn’t been doing his job?”

josh cleared his throat, and you could feel the daggers he was glaring at you burning into your skull, “yes, mr. styles.”

mr. styles nodded, and you understood the horror stories now. he wasn’t even trying and he was terrifying. “do you like your job, mr. richardson?”

“yes, mr—“

“so why aren’t you doing it?”

“i— i’ve been.. busy.”

“busy.. right. well, i’ll make you less busy. you’re fired. get out.”

“wh— what? you can’t fire me!”

“i believe i can. and i just did. so get. out.”

“i have worked at this company for eight years! i make one mistake, and—“

“i will not ask you again!” mr. styles shouted, standing up from his chair. you flinched. “because i am not asking you, i am telling you. you are fired, and you will leave this building. and don’t even think about puttin’ this place on your resume, i won’t say a single good word about your ass.”

josh scoffed and stormed out of the room, you and rachel followed.

you turned the corner, yelping when someone grabbed your wrist and yanked it.

“what the hell, y/n? you said you’d do my—“

“i didn’t say that. you just assumed i would. i am not just apart of the valentines launch, josh, and i have fifty other things to do, and i can’t drop that just because you’re lazy.”

“you better watch what you say to me—“

a voice spoke from behind. mr. styles’ assisant, “uh.. miss townes? mr. styles requests he speak with you.. privately.”

you yanked your arm back, rubbing your wrist, “yes. of— of course. sorry.”

you walked back towards his office with your head down, glancing up at him once you entered the room.

you were surprised to see a... calm look on his face.

"miss townes, correct?" he asked.

"ye-.. uh.. yes, sir."

he smiled, which was very odd from what you'd seen of him so far, "you can relax, darling. you aren't in trouble. have a seat."

you hesitantly wandered towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

"what did you mean by.. helping mr. richardson with his work?"

"oh, well... he just.. he kept saying he was busy and asking if i could do.. certain parts of his work. and i--.. well, sometimes i'm a bit of a pushover, so i said yes."

"i see... and how much of his work, in total, did he push onto you?"

"uhm... all of it, mr. styles."

his eyes widened, "all of it? and you didn't tell a supervisor he wasn't planning on doing any of his work?"

"i.. i felt bad," you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

"yes. well... mrs. maruska, can you please bring mr. richardson back in here for a moment, please?"

you jumped when his assistant spoke behind you, not realizing she was even in the room.

"yes, mr. styles."

it was silent for a minute after the door shut, maybe two minutes, until the door re-opened and two pairs of footsteps entered.

"mr. richardson, before you leave, you are going to do something for me," mr. styles spoke. "you are going to apologize to y/n--"

you nearly choke on your own spit at his use of your first name.

"for making her do all of your work. and.. you will also apologize for whatever the hell that was i heard outside. that is no way to speak to any colleague."

josh scoffed, "i'm not apologiz--"

"i'm not asking."

mr. styles gaze switched to you as josh begrudgingly sighed, "i'm sorry, y/n."

"it's okay," you murmured, glancing at him.

"no, it isn't," mr. styles quickly interjected, keeping his eyes on you. you much preferred them on you than on josh. they were a lot kinder when they focused on you. softer. "but.. if ms. townes says it is alright... you may leave now."

you aren't quite sure what happens afterwards, because you keep your gaze away from mr. styles, because you're afraid he'll notice how nervous he makes you.

"how many did you have left?" mr. styles asked quietly. softly.

"i have 130 done. so.. seventy left. but i-- i can get them done soon, i promise. i can just stay late, or.. or--"

"no. none of that. you'll submit the ones you have.. and we'll figure out something for the rest."

"really? i mean.. are you sure?"

"i wouldn't have offered if i wasn't. you can go, now."

"thank you, mr. styles," you mumbled, standing and walking to the door.

right as you grabbed the handle, he called out.

"oh, and y/n?"

you turned around with a furrow in your brows.

"let me know if you have any other problems."

you can't even help the foolish smile on your lips as you nod and leave the room.

--

a/n: part 1!! i really love this request

#harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry #harry styles #boss!harry styles x reader #boss!harry styles #ceorry #ceo!harry styles #ceo!harry styles x reader

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I saw that you were interested in writing for spencer and I’d love to request something for him! Maybe something with bau!reader and spencer have been secretly dating and he slips in front of the team and calls her a pet name or something and the team is just like :o bc they didn’t think spencer would have it in him to go after her!

Yes he's my babygirl! Thanks so much for requesting sweetheart <3

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 533 words

There’s a little extra bounce in your step as you come through the doors this morning, your ponytail swinging behind you and a giant tupperware container in your hands. 

“Good morning,” Morgan says, interest piqued. “What’ve you got there?”

You beam. Spencer’s day is instantly better. “Cupcakes!” You set the container down on the table, removing the lid. “I made chocolate and strawberry.” 

Garcia squeals, lunging for them. “I’ve told you you’re my favorite, right? Because you are.” 

Morgan turns to her with an indignant look, but Garcia only takes a bite of her strawberry cupcake, holding it up as if to say What do you want me to do?

You’re practically glowing, your smile bashful but poorly contained as a faint flush spreads across your face. You look adorable, so clearly elated at brightening everyone’s morning, and Spencer can’t help but smile with you. He reaches into the container. 

“Hey,” he says, “why are only some of the chocolate ones frosted?” 

Your blush worsens. “Oh, um. I know you don’t like frosting, and chocolate’s usually your favorite, so…”

An invisible hand grips his heart and squeezes. Or no, he knows what this is. His hypothalamus is releasing dopamine, causing his blood vessels to constrict. It’s improving his focus and spiking his blood pressure, and making him feel all warm and happy. It’s probably also why he wants to hug you so badly. 

“It is. Thanks, honey,” he says, nearly breathless. 

Your eyes widen, and though your smile doesn’t go away, it becomes tinged by shyness. “Spence,” you whisper, but it’s only when Emily clears her throat that he realizes what he’s done. 

He turns, unfrosted chocolate cupcake in hand, to find Garcia gaping at him and Morgan and JJ looking like he’s just made their day. Hotch and Rossi, of course, appear completely unphased. 

“Well look at you, pretty boy.” Morgan grins approvingly, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t think you had it in you. How long has this been going on?”

Garcia makes a flustered squawking sound. “I’m sorry, you knew?” She slaps Morgan’s arm. “How could you not tell me?”

“I didn’t know for sure, shortcake,” Morgan replies placatingly. “Honestly, I didn’t think Reid would ever work up the guts to go after her.” 

“Hey,” Spencer says, and he sees you giving Morgan a chastising look in his periphery. Never mind that you’d asked him out. You’d only beat him to it. 

“It’s only been a couple of weeks,” you say, answering Morgan’s first question and pointedly declining to comment on the rest. 

“I can’t believe it!” Garcia gushes, fanning her hands about her face. “Look at you lovebirds, all blushy! You’re so cute together.” 

JJ smiles, grabbing a strawberry cupcake and holding it up like she’s toasting with it. “Congratulations, you two.” 

“If you’re all done gossiping,” Rossi says, and you’re already moving for your seat, chastised and eager to vacate the center of attention, “can we start?”

JJ rolls her eyes, going to the front of the room and turning on the screen. Spencer takes a seat beside you, knee bumping into yours amicably. You okay? Your hand finds his under the table, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently. Perfectly. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom #bau!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

[alonetimelover]

i was wondering if you could write something about harry and famous!reader where they’ve been dating for a while and reader makes cameos in harry’s music videos (sometimes big parts and sometimes small parts in the background) and it’s just a cute thing that harry and reader love and so do their fans💕

pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader

a/n: Thank you so much for requesting, I hope you like it!

masterlist taglist

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2017

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 3 492 492 others

yourinstagram don't let the video fool you, he was terrified to fly two metres above the ground

view all 103 392 comments

harrystyles Lies, lies, lies. I am very brave.

⤷ yourinstagram of course you were. of course.

annetwist He was afraid of heights when he was younger!

gemmastyles You should just write that you are better than him.

⤷ yourinstagram I should, shouldn't I?

⤷ gemmastyles That's my sister (from another kister)!

harryupdates ohhh, yn was behind the scenes!!!

hArrysbtch i love how she's been supporting him from the very beginning

⤷ harryoftimes hi, im quite new to fandom. can you tell me how long have they been together?

⤷ hArrysbtch oh, they've been together since like 2013! right after YN got famous for her voice acting in Tangled!

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist and 5 302 592 others

harrystyles // KIWI // MUSIC VIDEO // OUT NOW // starring Lily YSN //

view all 203 392 comments

yourinstagram The star is here!!!!

⤷ harrystyles Thank you, love.

⤷ yourinstagram I was talking about Lily, my little star.

annetwist Adorable!

harryupdates yn's sister in the video???

harrysmoustache YSN family is just THAT famoly: talented, beautiful, unproblematic

hArrysbtch i can't believe that he filmed a video with children to the song about faking the big 'o' and all that

——————————————————————————————

2019

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 44 302 others

harryupdates HARRY and YN for LIGHTS UP music video!!!

view all 4 302 comments

hArrysbtch WTFJSIW

hArrysbtch he mistook the 'tube' app. it wasn't meant for YouTube. no way.

harrysmoustache well... I've never thought I would see a video of THE yn and THE harry grinding against each other. especially in a video that was APPROVED by both of them

stylesbabie it's a great day to be bi 🏳️‍🌈

harrysmylife but but but, the scene were suddenly all other people disappear and they are alone just 'brushing'??? CINEMA

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles and 6 308 492 others

yourinstagram there is no land quite like it... written by yours truly, starring my man and my beautiful baby boy

view all 410 201 comments

harrystyles The smile that brightens the world.

⤷ yourinstagram all yours.

⤷ harrystyles Debatable.

annetwist My beautiful grandson is already a star! 🥰

gemmastyles petition to release the 'baby' cut!!!

harryupdates THEY HAVE A SON???

hArrysbtch those bitches grew the whole baby while being gone from the media and all

harrysmoustache it doesn't surprise him that the most cinematic music video was written by yn

stylesbabie i still hope he's releasing the mv for watermelon sugar

⤷ gemmastyles Please, don't.

⤷ harrystyles :))

——————————————————————————————

2020

hArrysbtch

liked by harryupdates and 68 301 others

hArrysbtch just my fav stills from watermelon sugar mv...

view all 5 301 comments

harryupdates I still can't believe he did it

harrysmoustache all of the moments of yn are just majestic. it feels wrong to watch it, but I can't take my eyes off the screen!!!

harrysmylife it's even better when you see that all harry's individual shots are right after yn's.

stylesbabie oh he enjoyed that watermelon sugar, oh he did

harrysmylove im just happy for her, she's in good hands. really good hands from what I saw in this video

harrysfan56 no wonder they have a whole child now

——————————————————————————————

2021

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist and 6 391 493 others

harrystyles // Happy New Year, from The Styles to You // TPWK music video is out now //

view all 492 301 comments

yourinstagram I'm the Styles.

⤷ harrystyles Yes, you are. ❤️

gemmastyles My girl leading the dance because of his two left feet.

⤷ harrystyles Didn't you see our Dirty Dancing moves?

annetwist The Styles production!

harryupdates they are married. woah.

harryupdates it really should stop making me all surprised that this man is announcing something huge so casually.

hArrysbtch MY FAVOURITE COUPLE IS MARRIED !!!

harrysmoustache that's what I'm talking about

harrysfan84 finally the tpwk video!!!!!

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2022

ynandharryupdates

liked by yourinstagram, harryupdates and 45 392 others

ynandharryupdates HARRY with his and YN'S second baby in the BTS for As It Was... they have another child...

view all 6 390 comments

yourinstagram she's a mommy's daughter

⤷ harrystyles Nope. Daddy's daughter.

⤷ ynandharryupdates HELLO YOU TWO

harryupdates THEIR LITTLE FAMILY OF FOUR...

hArrysbtch they are not stopping with those babies and good, share those good genes

stylesbabie the way she was so happy in harry's arms and then heard yn's voice nad immediately started looking for her

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 12 201 402 others

yourinstagram 📣announcment📣 somehow I have fallen pregnant. If you know the possible reason for it, please send it my way, we need to talk.

view all 594 302 comments

harrystyles I may know it, but it's conidential.

⤷ yourinstagram im on the couch in need of answers, pickles and cuddles

⤷ harrystyles Happy to provide.

annetwist You're making me the happiest grandma on earth

gemmastyles I don't want to know. BUT I will spoil this little wonder as much as I can

harryupdates she was like 'fine, have it' and I love her for it

hArrysbtch YN you know how babies are made, don't you? it beginning with s and ends with x...

⤷ yourinstagram SIX??? no way. what's next, NINE?

⤷ stylesbabie NASTY

⤷ hArrysbtch yn you little tease

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, hArrysbtch and 5 402 492 others

harrystyles LATE NIGHT TALKING. OUT NOW. with YN YSN-STYLES.

view all 493 393 comments

yourinstagram you meanie. i have tickles.

harryupdates she's in his every video, i love it

hArrysbtch if I ever have a partner im gonna show them off just the way harry does with yn

harrysmylife ohhhh

harrysmoustache the video was so sweet and wholesome!

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles and 16 392 392 others

yourinstagram 10 years together. 3 years sharing the last name. I couldn't ask for a better partner to go through life with.

comments to this post have been limited

harrystyles There could be no better person to share children with. You being their mother is the best that could meet them.

⤷ yourinstagram im still emotional. stop.

annetwist There could be no one better for my son.

gemmastyles I'm still mad you aren't with me, but that way I wouldn't be an aunt. So okay, have it, little brother.

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a/n: i enjoyed so much writing for this pair. should i write some more?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles instagram #harry styles one shot #harry styles fake ig #famous!reader #dad!harry

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XVI

summary: you can finally go home.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do.). implications and mentions of abuse and some non-graphic violence, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation.

a/n: i can't believe this is it :') the final part (excluding the epilogue which is coming v soon). thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!

series masterlist // playlist

"Y/N/N. Do you have your clothes from home?" Coryo asks, pulling the boat back up onto the shore. The guns were gone. He's free to go home if he wants.

"Yes." You nod. "I couldn't get rid of them if I wanted." You chuckle, looking up into the woods behind the cabin, hoping Sejanus is long gone by now.

"Okay. You're gonna stay here, just for a few days, and then I'll come get you before the train leaves. I'll take you to Two with me, just wear those. You'll fit in better."

"Okay..." You nod, nervous about being out here all alone for so long.

"I'll come bring you food as much as I can." He knew it would be a long hike each way to come see you, but he would have to carve out the time. He looks up at you quickly from digging through his own bag when he hears you sniffle. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I- uhm..." You clear your throat, fanning your eyes to keep any tears from falling. "I'm just scared." You try and laugh it off, shaking your head slightly.

"Don't be scared." Coryo shakes his head, dropping the bag to grab your shoulders. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, Darling, but we don't have another choice. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"I know, I know that..." You sniff, looking up at him. "Is she dead?"

"Yes." He answers quickly. "I buried her. She can't hurt you." He promises. Was that true? No, definitely not. There was no trace of her after the shot besides her earring on the ground,  but he had hit her. He was sure of it. There was no reason to tell you that, though, just to scare you more. You couldn't go back to town, there was nowhere for you to hide while peacekeepers searched every inch of the populated part of the District for days while he waited for his train.

"Okay." You whisper, taking a deep, shakey breath as you look around at the suddenly scary forested area around you. The rain had started to clear up, which helped with the sun peeking through the clouds to brighten up the lake. If Lucy Gray hadn't ruined everything, you would probably be getting ready to keep moving.

"Just, try to relax out here. Okay? Go for a swim, just enjoy the fresh air." He smiles softly, brushing some hair back out of your face as he tries to make you feel better.

"I've had enough of the woods for the rest of my life." You scoff, shaking your head under his hold.

"I know, Y/N/N, I'm sorry. It's only a few days. Like I said, I'll come back for you whenever I'm free." Even if he could only stay for five minutes before he had to turn around and make the trip back to town, he would do it. "Then we'll figure everything out. I'll handle it."

"I... I just want to go home, but I can't." You cry, letting him wipe your tears as your chest flushes with the emotion.

Coryo winces at your tears. He hates seeing you cry, and he has seen it far more times than he would have liked to in the last few months. "I'm going to figure it out. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise." He says softly, trying to get you to look at him.

You lean into his palm, closing your eyes as you try desperately to pull it together. You were exhausted, but this was the last thing Coryo needed right now. "I'm sorry. I'm just having a moment."

"I know. You're okay." He chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling you into a hug, rocking your body gently back and forth. "You know, I think the last time you said that to me was the day I realized I was in love with you." He hums, squeezing your shoulders gently.

You laugh, which makes him smile. It's what he wanted. "I feel like that's a bit dramatic."

"No, it's true." He grins, craning his neck to look down at you. "You defended me, and you listened to me, and you looked just so pretty doing it..."

You bury your face in his shirt to hide your blush.

"You're always on my team, and I appreciate that. I really do." He explains, satisfied that he's made you feel at least a little better. "I hope you know I'm always on your side, too."

You nod slightly, smiling through your tears as you look up at him. "I know."

"Good." Coryo whispers, kissing your nose. "I love you."

"Really?" You whisper, eyes lighting up as you wring your hands together against his chest in front of you. "You're not just saying that because I'm crying on you?" You laugh slightly.

"No, I do." He nods in confirmation, grinning down at you in admiration. "There's no one else in this world I can trust as much as I can trust you."

"Then why'd you give her your scarf?" You ask, tilting your head. "It looked... valuable."

"It was. It belonged to my mother..." He says solemnly. He suddenly shakes his head, mocking your expression as he changes the tone. "You really were dead to the world, huh? I was holding it, and she just asked if she could see it. Then she didn't give it back." Coryo explains, raising an eyebrow at you. "Why, are you jealous of the dead girl?"

You roll your eyes with a smile on your face, attempting to shove him away.

"Hey, I'm kidding." He laughs, pulling you close again by your wrists. "Don't you trust me?"

"Okay, yes, I trust you." You giggle as he drops your wrists, sliding his hands over your waist.

"And you love me?" Coryo asks, urging you on.

"And I love you." You grin, nodding slightly.

"That's my girl..." He hums, running a hand lower down your side, thumb running over your midsection as he leans in to kiss you. He had you right where he wanted you, he'd wanted to say that for ages. Only since he even clued into the fact that the buzz he gets under his skin when he catches you smiling, anyway. Realistically, you were something he had always wanted. Picturing his future over the last few years when he was dragging himself out of bed every morning desperate to arrive to class on time even on an empty stomach, his daydreams of his success always included your own, as well.

Now, it was only the two of you. He was so right about you, you were perfect in every way. Smart, obedient to him and only to him, but you fought for what you wanted. You knew struggle, pressure, and soul crushing expectations in the same way he did. Through all of it, you were there for him. You were beautiful- and he was the only one smart enough to see past your occasional outbursts. No one knew how to navigate you like he did, and he was lucky that few people ever bothered to try.

The most beautiful girl in all of the Capitol, and you were his. He meant it when he said that he would never let anyone hurt you. He couldn't let anyone take you from him.

"Do you know where we're going? Where Tigris and your Grandma'am are living?" You whisper, curled up next to Coryo on the train as it pulls into the Capitol station. You're holding the orange silk scarf in your hands, using it as a small blanket in the cold train car. You had spent most of your time out by the lake trying to clean it- but dirt was a stubborn stain. You'd have to be more thorough once you had access to cleaning supplies again. You couldn't let such a lovely piece of clothing go to waste, especially when it was so valuable to him.

"I don't..." Coryo mumbles in response, staring out the window as you lean your head against his shoulder, knees tucked up to your chest. "They shouldn't be hard to find, though."

The wheels screech to a slow stop in the familiar city, and you can't help but smile at the endless sea of grey architecture. It wasn't anything like the forest in Twelve, and you loved it. The door slides open and some peacekeepers enter, drawing both of your attention as you sit up away from him.

"Dr. Gaul is expecting you both in her lab immediately." One of them informs you, and you nod a little bit, looking nervously over at your boyfriend.

You hung off his arm for the entire car ride and all the way to the lab as you're escorted by the men in the matching uniform to his own. Your clothes were dirty, despite how many times you cleaned them back in District Twelve. You had cleaned them obsessively throughout the last couple of months, but the water was never quite clear enough to be helpful. It was vile. Surely you smell unpleasant due to this, and you were hoping you would have a shower before confronting anyone from your previous life, but clearly, you weren't so lucky.

"Do I stink?" You whisper, trying to avoid the echo of the large room as your heels click across the linoleum flooring.

"Not any more than I do." Coryo answers, a small smile pulling on his lips as he glances down at you.

You giggle, gently slapping his chest as he removes his hat.

"Congratulations, Mister Snow, Miss Y/L/N. You've passed all my tests." You look up at Dr. Gaul for the first time as she speaks to you, tossing something into a pool on her floor. "I've asked President Ravenstill to grant you both a full pardon, effective immediately."

You don't say anything as you both stop in front of the tank in the ground, staring into it as Coryo revels in the shock. "I also told him that you are too promising to be wasted in the Districts. So you will be studying under me at the Capitol University."

While she speaks, you pull Tigris's coat tighter around yourself at the slimy, vicious look of whatever creatures are splashing around inside that tank that she is continuously feeding.

"We can't afford university." Coryo answers on your behalf, forcing you to look up at the woman across from you. While you were incredibly grateful, you were scared. Things were complicated back at your parents' home, and even with a legal form of forgiveness, it's not likely your father will see it the same way. You couldn't go back, and he wasn't likely to give you a dime or let you go free. Within the week, you'd probably die from an "unknown illness" contracted in the Districts if he found out you were home.

"A certain Mister Strabo Plinth has offered to pay for everything you need while you're there. All for being such good friends to his Sejanus." Dr. Gaul explains and your heart drops in your chest. You can't help but wonder if he's even still alive out there, in the North. "He doesn't know quite how good a friend you were, of course. I never mentioned your little recording. Quite impressive, Mister Snow, how you sent your only friend to the grave just to get my attention."

"That's not what I did." Coryo shakes his head at the allegation.

He squeezes your arm in warning, knowing this topic was a fine line to walk. "Are you sure? Because I think that won you the Plinth Prize, after all."

"Sejanus Plinth is not dead." You blurt out without thinking. She tilts her head at you, looking at you intensely, a knowing smile growing on her lips.

"Oh?" She asks, and internally you struggle for a saving grace while Coryo furrows his brow at you. You hadn't seen Sejanus since you sent him away, but you did try looking for him in your days out there alone. You had to believe he was alive, after you gave him his way out.

"Well, I heard that he had escaped in Twelve. As far as I know, they never found a body. He planned on running off anyway. That's likely what he did." You explain, clearing your throat.

"I agree. That is likely, but the odds he would survive out there..." She shakes her head slightly, dropping another treat into the tank as the creatures snap at it. "Anyway, the president has agreed to another year of the games! People watched, and I have you kids to thank for that."

You and Coryo wear matching grins now, posture perfect to match your collective pride.

"But before I take you under my wing, after everything you've seen out there in the real world, let me ask you one final time." Dr. Gaul says, looking pointedly between the two of you. "What are the Hunger Games for?"

You look up at your boyfriend, nodding for him to answer. "I used to think that the Hunger Games were a punishment for the districts. Then, I thought they served as a warning to us here in the capitol, about the threat the districts posed. Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need the Hunger Games every year to remind us all who we truly are."

"And who are you, do you determine?" Coryo looks down at you as she speaks.

"We are the Victors." You finish with a proud smile, looking at the woman across from you who seems more than pleased with your answer.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing back so soon?" Your mom greets him as she opens the door of your childhood home, smiling sadly, confused as to the condition of his return.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am." He smiles politely, grey uniform cap now clutched to his chest. "I proved to be exceptional in my training. Dr. Gaul saw it was better Y/N and I work under her at the University."

"Y/N?" Your mom gasps, reaching up to cover her mouth with her hand. "She's alive?"

"I assure you, she is safe." Coriolanus nods. "Now, may I speak with your husband? I won't take up much of his time." He brushes past her, entering the home without waiting for permission.

"Well, dear, where is she?" Your mom asks, letting him pass and closing the door quickly. "Why hasn't she come home?"

"I think you know why she hasn't come here." He hums, looking around. "Where is he?"

"His study." Your mom answers quietly, gesturing up the stairs. "I'll walk you."

"No need. I know where I'm going." He gives her a small smile in return, following the familiar path toward your room.

He stops in front of your father's study, knocking before taking a step back. The force of habit leads him to stand at attention while he waits for permission to enter.

"I'm busy, don't bother me." Your father's voice echoes through the ornate lining on the door. Then he realizes, he doesn't need permission. Not anymore.

Coriolanus huffs, opening the door and stepping in.

"I said-" Your father growls, slamming his pen down on the desk before he looks up and takes in the grey of Coriolanus's decorated peacekeeper uniform. "Coriolanus."

"Sir." He nods in response, closing the door quietly behind himself. "May I sit?" He asks coldly, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Please." Your father nods, brow furrowed as to what the blonde boy could possibly want, or what he is doing back so soon.

"Y/N isn't here, son." Your father sighs. "She-"

"I know that." Coriolanus interrupts, placing his hat on the desk between them.

"You know where she is." Your father's tone is unsurprised, but questioning.

"I do." He confirms, back straight in the chair. He had always been afraid of your father, but this was built on an admiration. He reminded him of what little he remembered about his own father. This morphed into anger slowly but surely over the last few years, picking up several hints either in your appearance, demeanor, or choice of words which painted an incredibly unflattering picture of who the man sitting in front of him truly was.

Your dad hums in response, eyes locked on the boy. "How was your summer?"

The question catches Coryo off guard, but he puts all his focus into maintaining his poise. He has the upper hand, here, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. "It was good. Certainly an eye-opening experience, the people out there are very... different."

"Then what brought you back so soon?" His neglect to even ask where you were, if you were okay, if you were even alive makes Coryo's blood boil in his veins.

"Dr. Gaul." Coriolanus states, swallowing before he continues. "She granted your daughter and I a full pardon in exchange for taking an internship under her at the university. After all, that is her dream, is it not?"

Your father's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of your name. "It was." He agrees.

"Is." Coriolanus corrects him, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "Strabo Plinth has offered to pay our way."

"Of course he has." Your dad chuckles, but not an ounce of humour reaches his eyes. "Self righteous bastard..."

"Seeing as you don't care about her as much as you care about your own reputation, he saw it would be a way to repay her for her loyal friendship to his son. She saved his life twice, after all." Coryo ignores your father's comment, watching as the gears turn in his head, trying to remember the second time.

"I know you think you understand my daughter, Coriolanus, but there are some parts of her you will never know. Not truly." Your father responds coolly. "So, I'm not sure what she has told you, but-"

"But nothing." Coryo cuts him off, leaning back in his seat. "Here is what is going to happen. You will have nothing to do with her, her life, her mistakes, or her decisions any longer. Since, in your own words, you see her as such a burden, I am willing to free you of that."

Your dad grits his teeth together, and it's his turn to lean forward. "Coriolanus Snow, you will not speak to me that way in my own home. Y/N is my daughter, and I shall be involved as I please and I shall do with her what I deem appropriate to consequent her actions."

"No." Coryo replies sternly, standing up abruptly, unabashed by the sound of the chair scraping across the wooden floor as he slams his fist on the desk. "She is eighteen. I  take responsibility for her now, and unless you want to lose everything you and Highbottom have built, you will cut me in on every dime you make. Do you understand?"

Your dad laughs again. "And who will believe you, Coryo? You're just kids. You don't know what you're talking about. Whatever she told you is untrue. Simple as that."

"Would you like a list?" Coryo threatens. "Is that a risk you're willing to take, Y/D/N?"

He sighs, standing up to look eye to eye with him, clearly seething with the disrespectful use of his first name. "She's more trouble for you than it's worth, Son."

"That is my decision to make." Coryo says through gritted teeth.

"Suit yourself." Your dad raises his hands in defeat, careful to not show any fear. Coriolanus could see through it, though. He's won, and he knows it; it was a great deal, if your father was smart enough to see it that way. "How much do you want? Money is nothing to me."

"More than Highbottom gets." Coriolanus requests plainly, grabbing his hat and placing it back over his head. "And you'll pay for our wedding." He adds casually, pushing the discarded chair back into its place. "You'll pay for as many dresses and parties as she wants, every drink, every slice of cake, and every last flower she wishes for exactly how she wishes for it. No compromises, and no surprise appearances from you. Are. We. Clear?" He speaks clearly, intentionally enunciating every word with a trace of venom.

"Crystal." Your father scoffs, taking a drink from the whiskey glass on his desk.

Coriolanus nods, giving him a small smile. "Good. I'll be expecting the money orders every other week." He grins smugly, giving your father a quick bow before heading for the door, stopping as his hand brushes over the handle. "All due respect, Sir, which I deem to be very little, but what you have done to your daughter over all these years is what has made her into the woman you hate. Don't think I was the only one who noticed, and you would deserve every bit of harm we could do to your name. If you ever so much as speak to her again, I will kill you myself."

Coryo glances back at your father's expression only briefly before leaving. He couldn't resist the satisfying look of loathing and anger on the man's face.

The small smile sticks as he walks down the stairs, hearing the crystal glass shatter as it's thrown against the door behind him.

Finally, you were totally even.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

taglist is closed for coryo unfortunately, but my requests for him are open!! so send me all your suggestions!! requests here!!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #president snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #thg series #thg

[fallingintoyourlilaceyes]

My little winter rose (Aemond Targaryen x Little red riding hood!Reader)

synopsis: On your way to visit your grandmother, you meet a handsome stranger that points you towards some lovely flowers. Little do you know what else that aquaintance holds in store for you...

warnings: slight dubcon, p in v sex, mention of severed body parts, afab reader

word count: 2.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @slytherincursebreaker for requesting this piece. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!<3

Dividers by @valeskafics

For as long as you were old enough to roam around Winterfell and the surrounding woods, you heard the same thing every time. "Beware of the one-eyed beast in the woods" or some form of that sentence. You knew it by heart, saying it along every time it was spoken. Yet you had never seen a beast, no matter how often you wandered through the trees you called your second home. However, it also led to you becoming less watchful every time, thus not noticing how the so proclaimed one eyed beast very much saw you. Grew taller as you did with age until he towered over you easily, his mind darkening with thoughts as yours brightened with entirely different ideas. Going unnoticed day after day after day. Another institution set in place that you remember ever since you could think was a group of hunters going out every night. Their torches burning like the fear in their hearts, sharp swords, spears and weapons of any kind held close to their bodies that would always return marred. Sometimes you would hear rumours that people that died at an earlier date were taken by the beast while hunting for it alone.

You understood all of it, though that didn't mean you liked it. The sight of the hunters was one you hated. It was a surprise that with their viciousness the "beast didn't las out more or come closer to the village. Not even all the understanding of the human mind in the world could have saved you from hating the head of the hunters with a passion that burned even brighter than any fire ever could. Howland Reed and his relentless pursuit of trying to win over your affection by bragging about hunts long over and how well equipped he was to hunt the one-eyed.

"Red! Where are you off to?" He yells from a distance to stop you, as he trots over to you. Cursing him out in your mind in return, you oblige and wait for him to catch up with you, putting a smile on your face as you did so. Even the nickname everyone called you due to the red cloak you wore at every given time, sounded so gross from his lips you wanted to puke. "Oh, I am merely off for a visit to my grandmother." You chirp in the politest tone you could muster.

“Well, how lucky I must be to catch you then? You see, I just had some modifications done to keep you safe better.” He presents you with one of his hands and you see exactly what modifications he talked about. His nails had been filed into sharp points and seemingly coated with silver to harden them, just like claws. The pride in his face makes it hard for the polit mask to stay on yours.

“Say, Howland.” You take a deep breath in to keep it together as you speak. “I have been wondering something lately. Mayhaps you will be able to answer the question.”

“Ask me anything you wish and rest assured that the smartest man around will surely give you an answer.” He makes it so hard not to throw up right then and there.

“You are too kind. Now my question is, if you are as smart and strong and skilled in hunting as you proclaim… How come that one-eyed beast has not been slain yet?” You don´t stay to hear his answer, instead you hide a giggle behind your hand and go off on your merry way.

With the light of the early afternoon sun in the sky you have little concerns or cares about the safety of the forest. Humming the sweet tune of a song that you had often sung with your grandmother when you were younger, you skip along the way.

The deeper you get into the wood, the colder it gets and so, while you wrap yourself tighter into the red cloak, you almost run into what you at first think is a tree. As it turns out it is another human, a man and a tall one at that. His silver hair reaches down to the middle of his back, covering one of his eyes and the other you are sure shone in a pretty lavender hue once. If it did it had since dulled to a darker tone. The creases in the pale skin on his face speak volumes on how hard his life must have been. Yet when he looks down to meet your eyes, there is a charming smile set in place.

“My apologies, ser. I should have watched my steps.” You apologize before he even opens his mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes he had ever seen.

“Oh no, by all means, I am the one that has to apologise. You are not the only one that should have watched where they were going.” The beautiful stranger replies in a velvety smooth voice.

"Please, I insist. If I would have stopped for a moment, I would not have run into you." You reiterate. "Alright." The stranger lifts his hands in mock surrender. "May I ask where a young maiden like you is headed? All alone in these big woods." "Well, for one I am not alone. Clearly." You go to answer with a waggish smile. His grin widens in response and his voice deepens for a moment as he speaks. "I would not be so sure that is such a good thing." His words hold a sense of warning that you swiftly ignore to tell him where you were going. "I am on my way to see my dear grandmother. She lives not far from here."

"My, what a sweet girl you are. Your grandmother can count herself lucky to have you." You hadn't even noticed so far, but when he continued speaking his voice registers almost right beside your ear. "If you want to bring her some flowers, the winter roses are blooming beautifully not too far from here in that direction."

You follow his finger with your eyes, to see that it isn't that much of a detour.

"I will be going right away. Thank you, kind stranger." You turn your head back to him.

"Oh no, I have to thank you." He murmurs. “And you may call me Aemond.”

“Aemond…” you test the way the blonds name rolls off your tongue and then let your smile widen as you give him your name.

You happily skip along the way, giving him no chance for further conversations as you only turn once more to wave him farewell.

While you busy yourself with making the most beautiful bouquet of winter roses and greenery, Aemond goes off with a new plan in mind to finally get you.

The task takes you longer than you would have thought and so the sun stands high in the sky when you continue the way to your grandmother's house. It begins to grow dark when you arrive at the small house in the middle of the woods, so it is no wonder you find your grandmother asleep in her bed.

Gently you shake her awake by the arm. “Grandmother, are you well? I came to visit you." "My sweet girl, is it really you?" The old woman's voice sounds different than normal, though you can't quite put your fingers on the exact way it does. "It is. I brought you some flowers and a cake I baked." You set down the flowers in a vase on the bed side table and sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. "Oh, you are so good to me. Come, lay down. You came all this way and I could not possibly send you home in the darkness." Without any questions you obey her, pulling off the cape and dress until you are only left in your small clothes. Through the thin fabric the cold air makes your nipples harden and so you hurry to climb underneath the blanket.

Once in bed, you notice the long scar over the left side of her face, with the eye seemingly missing entirely. “Grandmother, what happened to your eye?” The words come out dripping with uncertainty.

“Bad men took it, but you need not worry about it. They are not able to hurt anyone anymore now.” The answer does little to quell the questions on your mind.

"My, what big hands you have, Grandmother?" You continue questioning.

"All the better to hug you." Comes the quick explanation.

"And what sharp teeth you have..." Your skin begins to prickle and the air becomes harder to breathe. Something in the way your grandmother pauses before answering, makes the hair on your neck stand up. Too late to react, as you get pinned to the mattress with surprising strength.

"All the better to eat you!" With a swoosh the blanket and who you thought was your grandmother's clothes get ripped away, to reveal Aemond sitting on top of you.

He grabs your shift and easily rips the fabric off your body, leaving you gasping, wide eyed and unable to cover yourself as he still pins your wrists above your head with one if his large, strong hands.

The cold air, that streams in through the cracks in the window frame, has your nipples harden even further, until they stand painfully against the heat of your admirers’ chest. Instinctively you lean further into him to catch more of his warmth. Aemonds hard cock presses between your folds, twitching against your entrance, to collect some of the juices that flowed between your thighs.

“Will you be a good girl if I let you go now?” He growls lowly into your ear, eliciting a quiet but eager nod from you.

Slowly the pressure around your wrists vanishes to come down to hold you by the hips. Aemond leans down to capture your lips with his. The slow, but nonetheless passionate nipping at each other’s mouths gives the perfect way for him to express every last bit of longing and yearning that had coursed through the blond’s body ever since he first laid his eye on you. The kiss deflects your attention from the way Aemond rubs his erection against your dripping centre until he has buried himself entirely in it. His tip nearly kisses your cervix and the way your cunt adjusts to his form makes your entire nervous system burst into flames. The flames lick only higher as Aemond absolutely ravages you, rutting into you with inhumane pace and without abandon. It seems he fucks deeper into your tight channel with every thrust, that is accompanied by breathily whispered praise of how long he had waited for this moment and how well you took him. Every once in a while, when a pained whimper leaves your lungs, he kisses your forehead, rubs a few circles with his thumbs into your hipbone and shushes you in the most loving tone anyone had ever used on you beside your family. Yet Aemond doesn´t slow down. Not until you are first to reach your peak and he had made sure to shoot his seed so deep into your core it was sure to take.

Aemond slides out of your sensitive cunt and sits back to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” he inquires short of breath.

“I am. Perhaps I will be a bit sore for the next few days.” You jested back with a raw voice.

“Ah, my apologies. I simply found myself unable to hold back any longer. I have been watching you for so long, my little winter rose. Imagining how it would be to touch you, to claim you, to finally take you as my wife in the face of the seven…” The one-eyed man sheepishly rubs his neck as he confesses to his desires.

Desires that make your face feel like it is on fire once more and your brain is entirely empty. “Is that the truth?”

“I could never lie to you about the graveness of my affections towards you.” Gently, Aemond takes one of your hands into his and presses a kiss to the palm of it.

“Oh, Aemond…” You melt at the show of affection. “I wished nothing more than to be able to be with you for the rest of our days, but I fear it is not possible. For my parents have already promised me to another.”

“Worry not. I have already taken care of that.” The blond stands up to offer his solution to the issue. A severed hand lands between your legs on the bed.

You gasp and raise your eyebrows, but before any question can claw its way out of your lungs, the sharpened silver nails catch your attention. It was Howlands hand that lay there presented to you as if it was a trophy. However, it does not disturb you. On the contrary, it makes you feel strangely appreciated, that someone would go so far as to secure you being with them.

“How dare that son of a whore go after my wife.” Aemond growls and his forehead lays into deep creases.

Careful not to kick around the severed body part, you stand up as well now, stalking over to Aemond on mildly trembling legs. When you reach him one hand goes to his shoulder for stability and the other rises to his face to run the thumb over the space between his eyebrows until it is even again.

“There is no reason to get angry about him anymore. My heart never belonged to him, but it will forever belong to you.” The two of you share one more kiss. This one much more slow, but just as emotional, to seal your future together.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #fairytale au #little red riding hood au

[yaakultt]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏’ 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃

૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა. keep fuckin’ for hours, that pussy got power !

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

CW ꒱ა. smut ⸝ fem! reader ⸝ profanity ⸝ dirty talk ⸝ face-sitting ⸝ fingerin’ ⸝ oral sex (fem received) ⸝ spitting ⸝ mentions of oral sex (male received) ⸝ lots of nicknames <3 (slut is one of em’! lil’ warnin’) ⸝ slight dumbification ⸝ he mocks us again but he’s nawt as mean ! ⸝ isagi is in luuv hehe ⸝ wc(2.5k).

NOTHING GIVES ISAGI MORE DOPAMINE THAN THE HIGH OF SHOOTING A GOAL DURING A GAME.

the only exception would obviously be you, and your pretty eyes and pink lips smiling like a daisy when he wins the match. his face brightens up into a big grin like a kid getting ice cream on a sunny day, growing bashful when he sees you run into his arms and giving him a big hug, ignoring the sweat he’s dripping off and the glances you two get. of course, isagi sneakily hides the coy smile he has on his face by burying it in the junction of your neck and shoulder, inhaling your sweet scent as he twirls you around and lifts you up effortlessly like a princess while his teammates all look at him with jealous, beady eyes.

his teammates were filled with the evil green-eyed monster of jealousy because isagi was such a lucky bastard for having such a pretty girlfriend. someone who runs up to him with the prettiest smile, small hands pawing at his chest, perfectly manicured nails grazing against the tautness of his bicep as she nuzzles into his neck so that she can whisper praises about how much of a star he is.

but after those sweet little praises that make his heart swell with happiness, you start to whisper challenges, trying to rile him up to prolong the high he’d procured from winning the match. oh sweet girl, you're challenging him? the pride and joy of blue lock, who’s never one to back down from a challenge? he can’t help but let his signature smirk form, canines peeking out when she traces his jawline and mutters about how she’d love to see a supercilious egoist on his knees.

your little tease is fleeting of course, like the flap of a butterfly’s wings as you switch gears and go back to showing off that sweet smile of yours that mirrors the sweetness of the cherry lollipop you were sucking on earlier.

“awh c’mon doll face you don’t have to pretend that you don’t want it don’t you? if you want me on my knees then let’s make it happen. better yet,” his teeth grazes the shell of your ear, trailing down to the pulse of your neck as he whispers, careful to not let his teammates hear his sin-coated words, “i’ll let you ride my tongue so I can see what that pussy looks like from heaven.”

it gives him a big rush of pride when he thinks about what he can do with you behind closed doors, holding onto the underside of your thighs when he twirls you around again and your pretty little mini skirt billows and ripples with every twirl, almost teasingly giving his teammates a tiny little peek of the baby blue panties you’re wearing just for him.

shit sweetheart, don’t you know you’re killin’ him here? it all fed his devilish ego so good especially since he knows he’s the only one who gets to bury himself between your legs, your sweet moans echoing in the air like a hymn as he laps at your pussy like a dog in heat, trying to push you closer to his face, bambi eyes filled with tears of overstimulation and it gives him such a rush because where was that confidence from earlier?

so forgive him for being rough with you, guiding you through his apartment door and hastily locking it, shoving you into his room as you two can barely get a word in, hushed whispers and moans as you two kiss messily, large hands urgently pushing you against the light blue duvet of his mattress and smooths a pathway to the hem of your skirt, calloused fingers leaving featherlight touches against the backs of your thighs so he can grip the plush flesh of your ass.

“sit on my face, c’mon,” he urges, smacking your ass lightly as his hands move to the back of your thighs to gently push you to his awaiting mouth. you feel your breath get caught in your throat when you see how serious he’s being right now. it was simply just a joke! at least… it had started out that way. was her bashful yoichi really demanding her to sit on his face right now?

“you’re a little too eager for this y’know? don’ wanna hurt you,” you whisper shakily, voice soft as silk when you hesitantly sink down onto Isagi’s mouth and his face breaks out into a boyish grin. “ ‘ichi!” you cry out, body jerking in surprise as you hold onto the headboard for support when his tongue darts out to lap up your dripping honey.

“princess sounds so pretty when I eat her pretty pussy.” he spits, spreading his saliva on your swollen pearl, pushing it into your core shamelessly while smacking your hip with a low growl, unsatisfied that all of your weight isn’t on his face yet. he manages to get you to place all of your weight down, smothered under your pussy with his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he eats you out more frantically, practically using the same energy he has on the field but instead of scoring a goal, he was determined to taste your blissful arousal after weeks of endless training.

“wait yoichi… f-fuck,” you whimper out, thighs shaking as you struggle to hold your balance, knees pressed into the mattress while holding onto the headboard for dear life as you desperately try to keep yourself still. but it was so hard. so, so hard to not bounce down onto the tongue that was assaulting your core so relentlessly. “o-oh…nnh—! so good ‘ichi!”

he starts to pant loudly when he hears the oh, so wonderful little whines he adores so much, telling you that you taste like bliss, that soccer hasn’t got shit on this cute little pussy of hers. it was all just too much for you, heart jumping in adoration at the praises, voice drawled out in a sweet, pitchy mewl as you try hard not to grind back against his tongue.

he lets his hands wander up from your thighs so he can cup your tits, soft, perfect globes that fit into his hand like the last piece of a puzzle, working quickly to push up your soft cashmere top, the one that’s baby pink and shows off your dainty shoulders and defined collarbones. fuuck he loves this top, loves the bra you chose to wear today since it’s easy to push up so that he can feel your nipples pebble into his hand. he can’t help but groan into your pussy, briefly pushing you up so that he can talk to you as he feels you, cupping the heavy mounds, thumb rolling over your buds as he worships you.

“fucking perfect,” he whispers into your thigh and you whine slightly when you feel his other hand trailing closer to the comforting warmth of your centre. “you need somethin’ from me baby?”

“fingers—your fingers please ‘ichi!” you whispers tearfully. you want it, you want him.

he chuckles, the deep, rich sound that makes your toes curl so delightfully as you feel the vibrations on his chest. “i’ll give it you… oh ‘m gonna fuckin’ give it to you.”

you’ve never have nodded so fast in your life. yesyesyesyes that’s exactly what you want, to have isagi give you everything he has to offer while you helplessly paw at his headboard.

you honestly don’t know why you’re this desperate. despite initially refusing his offer to sit on his face even though you had teased the idea into his head, you didn’t think he’d actually go through with it! now here you are writhing in ecstasy from his tongue as his nose nudges your clit, hips wiggling slightly as you want your boyfriend to have unrestricted access to your aching cunt, to want him to bring you to absolute completion right on his face.

rough hands pet your pretty pussy, thumb rubbing the sensitive pearl and already the heat of his large palm has you gasping for air from the sheer thought of his fingers and tongue working inside you in tandem. his hands work like he wants to claim ownership, hungry and greedy to already stake some sort of claim on your body and it turns you on even more. to be desired this much, oh it makes your heart weep.

“what a little slut,” he hums the dirty words against your thigh again, “begging for my fingers and actin’ all innocent in front of my teammates earlier.” he knows what she was doing when she teased him, he’s immune to her little innocent act when she shyly tells him she was joking when he knows she wanted it more than him.

you’re, oh so sensitive and he works slow, his hands are careful and precise as he works you up rubbing and tracing your slit softly and he hears the soft sigh parting from your lips when he lets his index finger move to part your delicate petals, just barely slipping inside and it’s just too much.

his finger thrusts slowly and you’re thankful for that, giving you time to adjust to the familiar feeling but it’s been forever since he last fingered you. his finger was much longer and thicker than your own, your warm wet walls sucking him in right up to his knuckle and he grunts.

“y’re so fuckin’ responsive… must’ve wanted me real bad, hm?”

a whine gets caught in your throat as he moves his finger inside of you, curling it at just the right angle and ohh—there’s that spot, the one you always have trouble finding yourself. you moan involuntarily as he massages your velvety walls, fingers fucking you open in the dim light of his bedroom as he whispers sweet praises. he thumbs at your clit once more and his finger starts to pick up the pace, cunt clenching around his digit and you feel like you’re stuck in a euphoric high.

“can you handle one more pretty? hm? can my princess take another one?”

was that even a question? she doesn’t even process his words but she’s nodding as he doesn’t even bother to give her a warning, his middle finger being tucked away into the confines of your wet walls. once there’s two of his digits in you it’s all over, finger fucking you with harsh thrusts as he gives you everything. all of this pleasure was for you, and only you.

“I feel— huuagh! n-no ‘ichi! wanna cum from your tongue! wanna do it on your face!”

you sob helplessly as your senses short circuit, one hand is working your tits while the other finger fucks you into the stars. isagi is quick to oblige though as he pulls his fingers out, quickly grabbing the delicious curve of your ass so he can push you to his mouth again. the orgasm forming up your spine and spilling all the way down to your tummy was about to unravel, and it was coming fast if he continues his sweet bullying of fucking you open with his tongue, messy slurps and moaning coming from below you as he your warm, velvety walls pulse around his tongue, greedily suckling and slurping your pussy like a man starved for your attention and he wasn’t going to stop until you give it to him. do it pretty, cum all over his face.

“h-haah— yoichi ‘m gonna cuum! g-gonna cum ‘ichiii!”

brainless babbles are pulled from your lips as you wail out to him, voice akin to a siren who’s luring him to his sweet demise because that’s what you are to him, captivating his very being. pretty girl can’t you see you’ve ruined him? tore him apart and stole his heart right out of his chest while he digs tiny moons into your thighs, working his tongue in and out of your drooling cunt as your sweet cream trickles down to his face, soaking the ruby red of his jersey when you buck and thrash against his tongue, a white-hot heat spreading throughout your body that leaves you breathless.

“ ‘g-gonna cum ‘ichiii’, fuckin’ do it then angel. look so pretty goin’ dumb from my tongue.”

you can feel his lips form a lazy grin when he mocks your mewls, hearing how much of a wreck you are right now. a writhing, moaning, shaking wreck that you don’t even need to look at his face to see how arrogant he is right now. cockiness oozes from his body as broad shoulders bounce, clearly laughing at the fact that if he wasn’t holding your entire body with his mouth, you’d have toppled over by now.

“see the score baby? it’s 3-1, you helped me score that goal jus’ as much as hiori did. pussy’s the real mvp here—she’s my good luck charm.”

a small shaky huff escapes from your lips from the playfulness he’s exuding to you, little tremors racking your body as your boyfriend finally eases you off of his mouth, a thin string of your slick connecting your sensitive cunt to his tongue like a string of fate. see? even your pussy was missing him.

he can’t help but offer you a lopsided smile, licking off the remnants of your cream from his lips with the smuggest expression you’ve ever seen from him, not once breaking eye contact with your glassy ones.

fuuck now it’s his turn now.

“nngh… wan’ it yoichi. wan’ you inside really badly…!”

“yeah? wan’ my cock sweet thing? wan’ me to fuck you dumb ‘n make your pretty little head think of my cock?”

he’s condescending, the way his low, saccharine voice mocks your babyish babbles, hazy doe eyes staring up at him with such want that he can’t help but indulge in your request. but he’s not gonna give it to you so easily. you’ve been spoiled rotten so it’s high time you go and do some work for a change.

that’s what good girls do.

so with a swift tug he frees his cock from the confines of his shorts, holding his heavy cock in his hand as he uses his thumb to spread the pre-cum oozing from the flushed tip and tightens his fist around the base and pumps himself a few times. he looks at you with a narrowed gaze, piercing baby blues look into your teary eyes as his lips curl up into a grin, sitting up on his knees while you obediently position yourself onto all fours, moving your head to his groin and nuzzle his cock, no words or commands needed.

“look at you—so eager for your boyfriend’s dick. you ready to make a mess all over me? bet having my cock in your mouth is gonna taste better than any of those fucking cherry lollipops you always suck on.”

#ཐིཋྀ◞𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼 #𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒆𝒆𝒌 ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა #‘m insane ova him ‘m afraid #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi smut #isagi smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #isagi yoichi #isagi #blue lock

[floralcyanide]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)

In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions

✣ word count: 2.7k

✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens

The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are. 

He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally. 

When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.

“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.

“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”

Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”

“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”

You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible. 

“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”

Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”

You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”

You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”

Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”

“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”

Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.

You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.

You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.

“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 

Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”

The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking. 

“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”

“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”

“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”

You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.

“Still do, actually. Love you.”

Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”

“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”

“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.

Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”

Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.

“Prove it how?”

“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.

You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”

“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”

“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”

Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”

Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”

A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.

“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”

“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.

He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.

“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.

He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.

He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot. 

“Callum, please,” you whine.

“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”

“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”

“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.

Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”

“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.

You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.

“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.

“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.

“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.

You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.

“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”

“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you. 

“That was…”

“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you, 

“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”

“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”

The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner x reader smut #callum turner smut #callum turner fanfic #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fic #callum turner imagine #floralcyanide writes

[mossmurdock]

when you and kento first start dating, it takes him a bit to adjust. he isn't sure about his approach towards his affection, of how it has him hesitating; the honesty of it is burning even to him.

he’s constantly thinking of you. its in little ways, but that sort of thing adds up, sneaks up on a person when they least expect it.

how’s he meant to go about his day normally when he keeps passing a boutique with heels that would look perfect on you? another with a blouse that would flow off you like it wasn’t made for anything else. another with classic winter gloves that look fashionable but warm.

the thought of dressing you doesn’t come out of any malice. there isnt anything wrong about your choice of clothing, it matches you, even links arms with his the slightest bit. but the thought still occurs, and he still walks by those boutiques thinking about you.

eventually though, he must stop thinking. because he’s walking back home with fancy bags and placing them on his kitchen counter. he forgets that you’re waiting for him at home that day.

you’re curled on the couch with a magazine in your hands. kento doesnt catch the title before you set it down on the coffee table at the sound of him entering. you’re up and kissing his cheek before he can second guess the look of the paper mache sticking out of the delicate bags.

“welcome back.” you loosen his tie for him when you pull away, pluck his glasses off his face and set them aside for him. already he feels less tired. “how was your day?”

“shit.” he deadpans. you simply hum as a response, a little smile painted across your lips. “how was yours? any better?"

your hands are off him now, the two of you are divided by the small kitchen island. you haven’t made note of what he’s bought, either purposefully or because you feel like taking things slow this evening.

“too fast,” you sigh. “someone spilled coffee on me. it got all over my blouse.”

kento’s eyebrows peak, and you respond with a knowing pout. “the white one?” he asks.

you nod solemnly, hanging your head defeatedly. “the white one,” you confirm. your voice is whiny, frustrated at its tired core. “i had to borrow this from a coworker.”

kento hums as a sort of comfort, lays his hand over yours. oddly, this shared fatigue between the two of you makes the place feel more like a home.

“did you go shopping? the bags are beautiful.” you twirl his hand in yours so that his palm is up to the air. before you let go, you trail the creases in his skin.

“new ties?” you ask, your smile a little smug. he may or may not have splurged a few weeks back, much to your amusement and delight.

"no," he replies, only slightly exasperated with you. "they're for you."

"oh!" your hand covers your mouth but it does nothing to hide the smile on your face. "were you thinking of me?"

"yes, i was," he confesses. the blush that rushes to the tips of your ears can't be missed, and suddenly, he wonders why he had been second guessing himself in the first place.

kento nudges the bags toward you, gentle and slow. its almost like he's scared of spooking you, even though you dip your hands in with the eagerness of someone who's never been scared in their life.

"kento," your voice is shocked, anything but quiet in its appreciation. "these are lovely. i don't—to be completely honest, i'm not sure what to say."

"you don't have to. just—" he pauses. "try everything on for me."

your face brightens. its like a new light in the room, soft and warm and his. your hands leap over the counter and grab his loosened tie, tugging him toward you and pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. he wants to say you missed, but he's gone soft with content.

#OOO YOU GUYS U MIGHT JUST WRITE AN ENTIRE THING FOR THIS #hes been on my mind a lot lately #he's soooo dreamy #moss writes #ch: nanami kento #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #sorry for any mistakes i dont feel like checking this rn cause it so so late

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies part 2

All work words count: 14 593

Words in this part: 1 794

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Of new names and teasing

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part

Duke knew that Dani was in their agreed meeting point, he even vaguely knew where she was floating but not much more. She used her invisibility, which was weird since she knew it didn't work correctly on him. It was fifth time they met, of course they knew. 

"Hey Signal, remember how you said that I need a codename if we're going to hang out in future and that all my previous ideas were horrible names?" a disembodied girly voice asked. Duke smiled. Ever since he raised the idea, the girl would come up with ridiculous names to be called, proposing them with absolutely straight face. It was expected from someone who thought Dani Phantom was a good alias. It didn't make her ideas any less amusing.

"Of course I do. Whatcha got for me today?"

"Alright, since you don't let me be a name stealer, I decided to take a sheet from local nightlife's notebook–"

"You mean take a leaf from their book?" He was sure she was rolling her eyes on him, but it didn't stop him. No one could maim English language like that with him around.

"Whatever. I chose to steal their idea and became a bird. It's only fair since I can actually fly!"

"Can't exactly disagree. So, what did you get this time?"

"You'll like that, I promise. But now, I introduce to you…"

Duke got ready to shut down every Robin iteration and all Birdgirls he could think of.

"HOOPOE!" Dani yelled, popping back to the visible spectrum. She was covered in bright orange cape with weirdly shaped hood and flimsy mask "I even did some costume changes to fit the name better–" in all honesty, one, yeah, he wasn't blind he realized, two, he needed a moment to remember how these birds looked (his first thought was 'wait it's a thing?!'). But then he got it and yeah, those were funny little creatures, just like Dani. It fitted her "–so even if you don't like it, it doesn't matter," she added, sticking her tongue out.

Duke patted her on the head. He was there, he knew it mattered.

"It's a great name Hoopoe"

Dani visibly though probably unconsciously, relaxed. Her mouth curved into a proud grin and her aura brightened. Normal auras didn't do that. He got used to Dani surprising him like that sometimes.

"Of course it's great, I made it."

Duke chose to not remind her about almost two dozen times she came up with absolutely not great names or about the fact that technically she didn't quite make this one either. He wasn't in such a petty mood. Maybe in future if he needed blackmail.

Oh, it was such a Bat thing, wasn't it? He needed to spend some more time with his civilian to get it out of himself, he liked his ability to interact with normal people in a healthy way. 

*

"Wait, is your mask a paper?"

"What else could it be, titanium?"

"If you stop three muggings on the next three patrols each I'll get you a better one, okay?"

"Hey, my mask is perfectly fine"

"Yeah, but it can tear too easily. I can get you a mask that is more sturdy."

"Aha."

"It's the same material every Robin and Nightwing wear…"

"Don't care, my mask is flawless"

"..."

"Okay, better mask would be cool"

***

On the third patrol Dani joined, about a week and a half ago, they exchanged numbers. Duke knew how hard it was to come to terms with new powers on one's own and God strike him with a lightning or something if he ever lets anyone go through similar bullshit. Especially since she didn't seem to have anyone taking care of her. Girl her age shouldn't be able to hang out or respond to messages within ten minutes at any given time. Only twice she didn't do that, because she was on a celebrity hunt for autographs as she later explained. He would be teased endlessly if any Wayne or their associate learned about it, but he considered introducing Dani to Bruce. She needed help, okay?! He didn't inherit adoption tendencies.

But he hadn't done that, partially because he didn't want to scare Dani off and partially because of fear of teasing. And bet. Because of course in the meantime somehow there happened a bet. 

He smirked at the video Dani sent as a response to the hydration check. She was tossing a coin and playing an elimination game to pick one juice from eight drinks she had. Steph jumped over the back of the couch to join him. At the start she was in front of him so to do that she had to run around the furniture but such minor inconveniences couldn't even wish to stop her dramatics.

"You're smiling at your phone ergo you either text your secret girlfriend/boyfriend/enbyfriend or watch memes. Show me the memes," she demanded, nudging him in the arm. Duke chuckled.

"Wrong guess. I'm texting my sidekick," they agreed it would be a funny way to introduce Dani to people who asked. Duke tried his best at this whole having sidekick thing anyway. As well as he could without help from other Bats because of this damn bet.

Steph froze for a moment.

"Your what–"

"And the lucky winner is… an apple with mint juice! Damn I really hoped it would be lemonade,"  Dani from the video announced cheerfully before opening the bottle" Shame it didn't make it past semi-finals. Happy hydration break. I'm going on an autograph hunt so I may not respond for the next two hours or so. Wish me luck, bye~"

Duke paused the video before it replayed. He glanced at Steph who finally rebooted.

"How come you got a kid and I learned about it just now?"

“In my defense I'm like 60% sure you're the second person in the family to learn about her. Depends if Tim got his ‘I have to know everything, gotta check body cams’ paranoid spree in the last two weeks or not. There was no teasing from Babs or anyone else if I'm being honest and no lecture from B, so they have no idea.”

“First was Alfred?”

“First was Alfred. I still don't know how.”

“That's our grandtler for you. You are forgiven but you have to tell me everything about her,” Steph demanded excitedly. “And show me the photos''

Duke snorted.

“She goes by Hoopoe and is about Damian's age. She can tell you her real name when B inevitably finds out and tries to interrogate her.”

“What if Spoiler drops by during the day?”

“You can try but give it another week and a day, okay?”

“Why?”

“We have bet that I'll hide her from B for three weeks. Tomorrow is the end of the second week. We both know how he is, he'll have questions if you randomly show up during the day."

"Stakes?"

"Speedster worth of winners favorite Batburger meal, 2 quarts of chosen drink and cookies"

"Valid. I ain't snitch, but I want to know more. Is she a meta?”

"Yeah. Powers I know of are invisibility, intangibility, superspeed, enhanced hearing and flight. Probably more. I think she already had some training with it because she has quite amazing control over this stuff. Like, it comes naturally to her. But her hand to hand is atrocious."

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

"Omg, you totally are! Don't be, she is just a baby with a better idea of what's going on with her powers than you have with yours. There is nothing to be mad about Duke, it's okay Duke–"

"Keep going and I won't tell you anything about her," he dared, trying not to snort. 

"Sorry, sorry, you're doing great, please continue," she nudged his arm again "Don't be such softie, dude" He stared at her at the comment, disbelief clear on his face. Steph at least then looked a little ashamed "Okay, sorry. You're honestly doing far better than any of us would. Excluding Cass and Alfred."

"Excluding Cass and Alfred," he agreed easily enough.

"So, you think your kid has some training with her powers," she recalled eagerly.

"Yeah, probably from when she was helping her cousin. He is a hero in Amity Park, Illinois, his name is Phantom. It took very little digging even though Hoopoe does her best to stay mysterious. I swear this kid has no brain-mouth filter. But! I got my second shovel talk from her cousin!”

“The what?”

“After a week of hanging out with her, I got message on Signal’s twitter from Phantom that basically read as ‘I have nothing against you, really dude I’m a fan but here is list of my most powerful enemies, and let me tell you, there were some scarily powerful guys there, I won with all of them, if something bad happens to Hoopoe I can and will destroy you.’ After some research, yes, I think he could try and have considerable chance of success. Even if he didn’t fight would be painful enough to be a lesson. He and Hoopoe have the same powers and she worked with him for some time. She most likely learned then. She was called Dani Phantom, boy went by Danny Phantom then”

“Dear gods, their aliases were so horrible, who even let them go with it?! Are those their first names?!” Steph sounded genuinely offended by it.

“I don’t know,” Yeah, he knew, but he preferred to keep at least this secret to himself ”In boy's defense, because Hoopoe came much later,  he was fourteen and Amity went to shit really fast, so alias was probably not his first concern. And it’s much better than Invioso-bill, name he was given by the press. And he uses some intense gaslighting to make people believe it’s just Phantom now. And allegedly they’re both ghosts. Apparently ghosts don’t exactly have secret identity”

“You doubt it”

“You would too. She eats, she breathes and she is tangible by default. From what I know, ghosts don’t do that”

“They don’t, I checked. I went on a research spree when I first learned about Deadman. I just thought it was so cool you know. Ghosts being real and all,” Steph leaned towards him, almost vibrating with anticipation.

“Really?” he asked, knowing what he was getting into.

“Yeah, you see…”

And on she went, releasing expected infodump as if she waited for this opportunity ever since she first read about it.

********

Some additional name getting shenanigans

Signal: I won't call you Dani in the field

Dani: Why?

Signal: Ever heard of secret identity? Name is, like, half of it. Disguise is other half but it can be exchanged with lore. Superman made it work. Just make up enough lore for people to not question it.

Dani: Oh, okay *gremlin^2 mode activated*

Random they just rescued: And who are you little one?

Dani: *looking them dead in the eyes* I am clone of dead child hero, travelling around the world to find identity separated from my template befre mistakes made during my creation make me turn into puddle of primordal liquid and my conciousness fades forever

Random: *petrified* What?

Signal: *internally* I have miscalculated

Dani: Kid Signal

Signal: No.

Dani: It works in Central

Signal: We're not in Central

Dani: Signalgirl

Dani: I mean, Batgirl exists

Signal: No.

Dani: Monochromatic Signal. Y'know, Red Robin route?

Signal: ...

Signal: Just no. Don't make my name part of your name

Next part

Do you want to see some Hoopoe doodles I made? There were redesigns!!!

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new sidekick and he doesn't even know it yet #not fully at least #Dani: *barerly visible over the counter* Where can I find books about orange birds? #Babs: *gives her directions* #Babs: Why do I feel like it was significant encounter? #Dani's cape was in fact a blanket #wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part