#finals week is killing me but at least the quarter is over in a week and i go home

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌

a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.

in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.

You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.

He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?

You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.

Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.

You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.

Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.

You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.

“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”

Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.

You considered.

“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.

You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.

“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.

You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.

You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.

You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.

This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”

The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.

“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”

There was your proof.

The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.

You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.

“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.

“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.

A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.

“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”

This incensed you.

“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”

He spun around, frowning.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”

“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.

“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”

“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”

You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.

“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”

“What would he like with them?” He asked.

“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.

“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.

That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.

“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”

You swallowed thickly.

Here goes.  

“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”

The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.

“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”

You sighed.

“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”

His face turned plum-red with horror.

“She was… stealing?”

In a way, yes.

“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.

“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”

You cut him off.

“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."

"Anything." He pleaded.

"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.

A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.

“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you.”

He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.

Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.

“Get what you needed, ma’am?”

“I certainly did.”

The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.

They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.

You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.

But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.

You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.

Innocence. If only.

You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.

In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.

It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.

It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.

✩✩✩✩

As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.

For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.

You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.

The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.

Click. Click. Click.

You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.

Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.

This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

This was the moment of truth.

“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”

“Not who you were expecting?”

“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”

“Think I’ll pass.”

He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.

There it is.

There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.

“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.

“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.

“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”

You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.

“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”

“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.

“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.

“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”

“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.

“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”

You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.

“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.

He laughed, low, more like a scoff.

“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”

“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.

“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”

Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”

“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.

“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”

You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.

“I didn’t think you-”

“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”

You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.

“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”

Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.

“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.

“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”

Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”

He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.

“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.

“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”

Shit.

A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.

He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.

“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”

If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.

“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.

“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”

“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”

“You think I’d care?”

“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”

“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.

“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”

“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.

“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.

He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

Cocky bastard.

Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.

“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.

Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

“Gladly.”

You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.

“Like what you see, Snow?”

He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.

It made you feel powerful.

You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.

“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”

You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.

“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.

“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”

You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.

You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.

“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.

“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”

You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.

“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.

When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.

“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”

You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.

You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.

When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.

“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”

He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.

He’s allowing this.

The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.

Who’s on top now?

This was getting to your head.

“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.

“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.

“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.

As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.

“Which one was your favorite?”

You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.

You shook your head.

“Don’t.”

He smirked.

“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”

He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.

“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”

You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.

“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.

“Cocky much?”

He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.

“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”

Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.

“Beg me.” He ordered.

“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.

“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”

It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.

“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”

The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.

“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”

And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.

"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."

His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.

You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?

When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.

“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”

But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.

“No.”

He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.

“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”

You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.

“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”

You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.

“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.

“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”

“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.

“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.

“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”

You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

Checkmate.

a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88 (more tags in the comments!)

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #snow x reader #snow x you #tom blyth #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #attention

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter V

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

''Stop looking at me, Johnny.'' Your voice is strained, currently being crushed by the mass of pure muscle currently laying on top of you.

''Cannae keep my eyes off of ya, doc.'' You roll your eyes, attempting to change positions before giving up. The man is not going anywhere.

''Or your hands. Let go of me.'' You gather the strength to try to push him away again, just for Johnny to make himself heavier and shoot you a cheeky smile. As if being woken up by the man running into your room and crushing you wasn't bad enough, he was refusing to let go or move, arms wrapped around you tightly, legs caging you in.

''Next time I'm letting you die.'' You sigh, stopping the struggle just for your best friend to lay down next to you, an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

''Saved my life out there, bonnie.'' The man is like a golden retriever and it's practically impossible to resist his charms, not when he has been in a coma for two whole weeks after the surgery, leaving you alone with the rest of the team. Your hand comes out of the blanket to gently pat his cheek before your arms are wrapping around his neck, bringing him closer, foreheads pressed together.

''I kinda missed you, you know?'' His arms wrap around your waist as he brings you even closer, hearts pressing together. He sighs, looking away before looking back at you.

''Thought that was the end of me, doc. Fuckin' Makarov got away an' I get a bullet to the heid.'' Johnny has always been an open book, anger and frustration clear on his face, yet his eyes showed the fear he felt at the idea of being an inch from death. Your chuckle brings his attention back to you, eyebrow raising in a display of attitude only Gaz can surpass.

''Took me 12 hours to bring you back, Johnny. Got help from Ghost for the chest shots, but your head...? If anything that shouldn't be touched was messed with, we could have lost you— or made you into more of an idiot.'' He playfully tugs on a strand of your hair, a small smile on his lips, yet his eyes were just as haunted as before. He took a deep breath before holding you closer, your face buried on his chest, warm hand on the back of your head.

'''t was scary, bonnie. Thought I'd wake up in hell with all the fannybaws I've killed.'' A dry chuckle escapes his lips as he lets go of you, giving your forehead a small kiss before getting up from bed, looking around your room before his blue eyes go back to you.

''Thank you. For saving me.'' Your gaze softens as you look up at him, finally getting up from bed and gently patting his shoulder, looking at the small patch of hair that had to be shaved off in order to have more space to operate.

''Should have shaved that stupid mohawk while I was at it.'' He gives you an overexaggerated look of mock offense and you grin up at him, happy to at the very least, have your best friend back. He's not ready to be out on the field yet, so you can already expect him to be bothering you or Simon as much as possible.

His hand drapes over your shoulder as he guides you out of your quarters and drops you off in an interrogation room, your eyebrow raising as you look up at him for an explanation.

''L.Ts teaching you how to interrogate people. Said something about ye becoming more involved in field work.'' You don't question it, knowing if anything happens to the team while out on a mission, you'd have to take over. Johnny gives you a smug smile as he walks away, fully aware of what at the very least seemed to be Ghost's attraction to you.

You open the door just to see him already waiting, sitting on an old chair with rope held in his hands. His brown eyes immediately go to yours, softening slightly as he offers you the rope. He knows it's a bad idea, but at the same time, he wants to ensure you know as much as possible about psychological warfare, even when it's completely different from your field. It's an excuse to spend extra time with you, that much is clear— but he also knows you're a fast learner.

''Simon.'' There's a smirk threatening to tug at your lips as you grab the rope, already getting on with tying him up. It's something you're very familiar with, not needing further instructions and ignoring the way his muscles tense up slightly in mild surprise as your hands move with pure expertise as if this is nothing but a second nature to you.

It takes a few minutes until you're done, looking down at the artwork with the perfect muse— there's a knot tied up on top of Ghost's chest, rope running over his chest in three different sections, uniting where his hands are tied behind his back. The rope goes up, binding his mid-section to the back of the wooden chair. His thighs are held apart with the tight rope, ankles tied to the front legs of the chair, his prominent bulge standing out even more with the tightness your knots have.

''Right.'' He interrupts after you stare at him for a second too long, already feeling the sweat pooling up on his forehead underneath the balaclava.

''You already got the intimidation part down, so let's move with torture. In that table there's tools you can use on me. When interrogating the enemy... make sure you start slow before you build up on the most damage you can do without killing. Anything is fair game in this field, love.'' He looks down before looking back up at you, trying to keep his eyes from wandering as he looks at you in civilian clothes for the first time.

''Torture, psychological tactics of intimidation, even amputation, if you're not afraid of being discharged.'' He's clearly joking about the last part, but his voice remains serious as he focuses on the task at hand.

''Go get something from there and try to make me talk. I'll be an enemy holding back information, get it out of me.'' He gestures to the table with his head and you hum in acknowledgement. The corners of your lips tug into a smirk as you see it— a red candle among the many different tools, a zippo lighter you recognize as his right next to it.

''Interesting.'' He doesn't even have to look to know what caught your attention. Your hand reached out for the lighter, flicking it on and staring at the flame for a few seconds before looking over your shoulder, gaze catching his. His eyes follow your movements, from the way you slowly walk up to him, to your hands lifting up his shirt, wrinkling the fabric together underneath the knot of the rope, his strong body exposed.

His breath hitches when your cold finger trails up and down from his abs to his chest. He watches you light up the candle, waiting until the wax starts to melt before slowly tipping the candle closer and closer, pausing before the burning flame makes contact with his skin, waiting for his approval. All he can do is stare down at you and nod his head once.

Your eyes focus on his strong torso, tipping the candle until the wax began slowly dripping into the pale skin, muscles flexing underneath. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to not give you a reaction despite the burning pain on his sensitive skin.

''That all you got?'' He challenges and that does nothing but make the dangerous glint in your eyes dance along with the fire. Your hand goes higher, tipping the candle again until a new bead of wax drips down his chest, not a single sound coming out of him besides his heavy breathing.

''Not yet.'' There's a small smirk on your lips as you notice the jolt that runs through his body, flinching slightly when the hot wax lands on his nipple, yet he still doesn't let out any sounds of struggle. His rock-hard cock twitches in his jeans, another deep breath coming out of him as the muscles on his stomach flex involuntarily. He takes his eyes off of you when the wax drips onto his other nipple, staring at the ceiling as he tries his best to calm down, body shifting in discomfort as much as possible despite the rope binding his whole body to the chair.

''Try harder.'' He orders, gravelly voice growing deeper. A small snicker escapes your lips at his words, nodding your head. From this angle you can see how his pupils dilate, the black specks quickly overpowering his dark brown eyes.

Your free hand travels from the now dried wax, all the way down to his jeans, fingers neglecting his hard cock and undoing his belt instead. His eyes snap back down on you, yet he doesn't deny you. You pull his cock out with your free hand, freeing him from the tight fabric before you let it go, allowing the thick shaft to rest on his abdomen. The candle goes up again, teeth softly biting on your lower lip out of excitement as you look at the red wax drip on his shaft.

''Fuck.'' His stare is firm, but the moment the wax touches his skin, he winces in pain. There it is. His head leans back on the chair, eyes closing tightly as more wax drips all over his painfully hard cock.

''Stay with it... It's nothing.'' He reassures himself, voice nothing short of a pathetic whimper. He shifts his body as you start letting the wax drip higher and higher, movements slow and calculated. He shifts his body, trying to escape the searing hot pain of the wax yet being unable to.

''Fuckin' amateur.'' He spits out, eyes opening to look down at you. His muscles are tensed, jaw clenching underneath his black balaclava. You can see a drip of sweat spill down from his masked forehead, moisture gathering at the bits of skin you can see from his face, eye black looking shinier than before.

''You seem to be enjoying what this amateur is doing, sir.'' Your words are taunting, clearly trying to get a reaction out of him, yet he gives you nothing other than a soft, low moan, half-lidded eyes looking down at you intensely. Your smirk grows at his silence, looking down at the hardening layers of wax all over his thick cock.

''You wanted me to break you, so I will.'' You watch the wax drip down to his glistening tip, mixing in with his precum. He can't help the way his body thrashes against the rope, trying to get away from the pain as a deep moan of pain escapes his lips. You say nothing this time, simply moving the candle around, angling it up so the dripping wax lands on a different part of his tip.

''Fuck! H- I cant—'' He whines out, eyes closed tightly as his body reacts involuntarily. He's still struggling against the rope, yet he doesn't have it in him to ask you to stop.

''That's all you can take?'' You taunt with fake pity and he inhales sharply, beads of sweat running down his forehead, pain showing in his face even when the balaclava is covering it. He finally lets out a quiet whimper, eyes struggling to remain open simply to stare down at you as he always does, yet there's no confidence behind them anymore.

''Do better.'' He's clearly trying to spite you and it works. Your free hand comes up to flick his tip harshly and this time, he doesn't fight himself, a low moan of pain and pleasure escaping his lips. His hips thrust up slightly and in that moment you know— Ghost's resolve is being broken.

''Fuckin'... hell.'' He moans out, bound hands behind his back becoming tight balls, veins bulging in his arms. His head tilts back when he feels a new drop of wax falling on his tip. He can't help it, really, the way his hips thrust up in nothing but pure desperation, ropes of thick white cum staining his abdomen as he groans out in a mix of pain and pleasure, muscles flexing underneath your touch.

''I win, Simon.'' Your taunt does nothing to him other than to make more cum spurt out of his throbbing cock, looking down at him in a mix of amusement and fake pity. Your gaze connects to the pair of wide brown eyes staring at the scene through a half-opened door, cock throbbing in his pants.

A/N: fun fact! Vamp was created with K-9 in mind, but I couldn't keep the idea in my drafts for long enough to use it in this fic so it was published as a one-shot. I decided to use the one-shot in this chapter, as things will get more interesting in the next ones!<3

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #mw2 smut #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #mw2 ghost #mw2 fanfic #modern warfare 2 #cod #cod modern warfare #mw2 2022 #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #ghost x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader

[circeyoru]

I firmly believe that Lucifer thinks reader (unwanted soul) as either his kid or younger sibling by how he threatened Alastor if he hurts them. Also I find it cute if Lucifer makes reader an unlimited page book since he's worried if they got into a too heated battle they won't notice their pages are thinning. I mean if he can make fantastic rubber ducks with amazing abilities, I'm sure he can somehow make an unlimited notepad for reader to use. Or at least he gives reader a new welcome to the hotel gift, and because he hasn't seen them in a while

Also I wanted to add to the if alastor got into heaven version where he's dead and got redeemed. Reader would isolate themselves so much so that Lucifer visits once a week to check them. And when extermination day hits again (if it happens again), Lucifer would force reader to reside in the hotel for their well-being. That's where they meet Alastor in his all angel-looking feature glory. He probably checked on their old house first, when he didn't find them he definitely raged killed some demons on the way. But he still feels some sort of connection that lead him to the hotel where he finally found reader.

(Can you tell how obsessed I'm with this series)

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

Ohh, I wonder if you're making Reader too op.

Part 1: Reader's/your gift from Lucifer

Instead of focusing on the book or notebook, let me direct your attention elsewhere. Ever thought about the quill? If you know how a feathered quill looks, you'll get what I mean. A quill essentially needs to be dipped in a jar of ink to write. Did I ever mention Reader/you carrying one or even using one? No. Never was 'ink' even mentioned in the story or the trivia (asks). Because that quill was a gift from Lucifer. A quill created by Lucifer and gifted to you. It's enchanted to be writable without ink and on any surface, with a camouflage mode to suit your preference, last feature is that only you can use it. Why Lucifer gave you a quill is because he knows you don't have to use pages as your surface to do crazy things (summoning weapons and casting spells). You can write on a wall, blow on it and it disappears to do what you wrote. That includes writing on the skin of a demon. If you read the demon design, you'll know what I mean. The writing on pages part was just a handicap you gave yourself and it was convenient for you to carry around a book or even a small pad to write with. Plus, you don't like attention, so you use a book with limits. You know you'll go overboard when your emotions rule over you, so you limit yourself.

Part 2: Yandere Redeemed Exterminator Leader!Alastor (what a long title for him)

For context, check this ask.

You do isolate yourself to the point it is concerning. Because you don't ask for help and you did when you asked Lucifer if he could provide you with new quarters that was far from where you were or the hotel. So many reminders of Alastor around you, you can't take it.

Seeing you in such despair, Lucifer shared with you that the souls in Heaven were granted the gift of forgetting when they entered the golden gates. You got the idea of forgetting the years spent with Alastor, from the point you saved him to the point you rage-killed for him. Lucifer advised you not to, but you were persistent in your plan. You returned back to the old place, scrolling around to make sure nothing was amiss and took in the final sorrow of nostalgia. Then you wrote down your command on your skin, you watched the words sink in and then everything went black.

Here, you were back to normal, save for Lucifer being the only one (again) who knew what happened to you. Not sure if exterminations continue (since no season 2 yet), but say that it does but further apart as a compromise for Charlie to save more souls. Lucifer visits you, but only to check and see if your memories came back, when they didn't for a long while, he didn't come as often.

When Alastor came down to Hell, he went to your apartment first thing. It was extermination day, so you were definitely there. You were sleeping through the day until your charms alerted you that there was someone in your apartment. You summoned a dagger made of angelic steel, creeping to the living room.

The moment you saw the pair of white wings, you ambushed and knocked Alastor down to the ground. You kneel on top of him to keep him down, the blade at his neck. "I'll give you a chance to leave and your head won't go rolling on my floor. You can fly back to your precious paradise and I'll let you."

Alastor's head turned to face you, a complete 180 without trouble, his smile softened as he praised, "My darling, you're beautiful."

"What?"

"Why would I want to leave you? I've done so much to come back to you. I'll never leave you, dear. If you want, I can give you my wings to make up for my absence."

Your face twisted to confusion and disgust. "What? Who are you?"

Alastor's eyes searched your face, his eyes scanned around, some things and items were missing. His signature red that would be mixed into your apartment. It was all gone. Just as he lost his memory, yours was somehow gone as well. "I'm.. Alastor. Don't you remember me, My Doe?"

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Be Careful What You Wish For

Pairing: Kid x AFAB!reader

Summary: When you drink, you always beg your boyfriend to be rougher with you. Every single time, he says no. He’s afraid he’ll hurt you. After a dry spell, your much larger man obliges your request. 

TW: ANGST? Kink communication issue, potential pressure to be into something? Alcohol consumption, Spanking, Rough sex, nipple clamps, improper use of devil fruit powers, sex toy usage, drunk fooling around, Bondage, handcuffs, missionary, unprotected sex, choking, creampie babyyyy, they are in love, Kid loves his lil lady.

Smut Under the Cut (minors DNI you will be blocked)

——

*3 weeks earlier* 

It was 2 AM and you and Kid had stumbled into his captain’s quarters after a night of heavy drinking with the rest of the crew. He had been pawing at your breasts through your shirt and kissing your neck as he ushered you down the hallway. Finally reaching the door, Kid pushed it open and swiftly pressed your smaller figure against it once it was closed and you two were on the other side. While attacking your lips with his, Kid moves to remove his large, imposing metal arm so it can be out of the way for your love-making session. You pull your head back, breaking the kiss.

“Keep it on…” You pant out at him while cupping his face.

“Dollface you know I can’t… It’ll hurt you… I promise you don’t want that…” He insists as he casts aside his apparatus. He leans down to kiss your lips again. Drunk with need (and alcohol), you roll your eyes and drop the issue for the night. Kid picks you up in one arm and lays your body down on the bed. He pushes your torso up, silently asking you to help him take your clothes off. You assist him slip off your top and shorts, laying back down completely bare for him. 

“I will never get tired of this.” Kid says as he slides his hand up your side, marveling at your naked body. “So pretty… and just for me…” His mouth waters at the sight and dives down to kiss you again. Kid slips his tongue into your mouth and you relish in the feeling of his massive body on top of yours, raking your nails gently up his back and into his scalp. You feel his hard dick rubbing into your center as you kiss. 

You whine and rut your hips into his to gain more stimulation on your aching cunt. Kid pulls back and chuckles down at you. 

“So needy as always, baby. Haha don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you, my little-” 

“Choke me.” You interject.

Kid’s eyes blow wide as he stands on his knees on the bed over you. You were in one of your moods again. 

“Absolutely not.” Kid leans down to try to kiss your chest to distract you. 

“Slap me, then. At least spank me!” You desperately press your core into his, trying to tempt him into humoring your most favorite fantasy. You had a pain kink. You knew that. Kid knew that, but he had never given in. You were so small compared to him. As a pirate, you certainly weren’t weak, but Kid was so frightened that as soon as he acquiesced your request, he might hurt you more than you wanted. He would’t be able to live with that. 

“God damnit, Y/n! Stop it!” Kid gripped your hip with his strong, callused hand. 

“Oh my GOD, Kid! I’m not a paper doll! I know you’re strong, and THAT’S one of the things that turns me on about you! I LIKE you BECAUSE you’re big and strong! You aren’t going to kill me, I can take it!” You huff and sit up from your laying position on the bed. “I’m a fucking Kid Pirate! I want to get tossed around a little, roughed up a bit! And I KNOW you want the same thing! I’ve heard you with those girls before we got together! I want you to just… let go for once!” You shout at him. 

“You aren’t like those girls, Y/n!” Kid spits back at you immediately. “Those whores meant nothing to me. I didn’t care what happened to them. But you…” He grabs your hand in his. “You’re my everything. And I just don’t want to go too far and…” 

“Save it. Honestly, Kid? I get it, but save it. If you don’t think I’m strong enough to handle you... then the message is received.” You slip your legs out from under him and off the side of the bed.

“So you haven’t been satisfied in bed with me? Because I’ve seen you squirt enough times to challenge that idea.” Kid is starting to get annoyed with your attitude. 

“Kid I love the sex we have, I’ve just been trying to communicate to you that I might have other needs and wants. You’re telling me you’ve never wanted to manhandle me into ungodly positions until I’m crying? You DON’T want me bent over your lap with my ass bright red for you? You’re saying the thought of me walking around the next day covered in marks showing the crew who I belong to doesn’t turn you on?”

Kid blinks at you. 

“I’m so done having this conversation tonight. Goodnight, Kid.” You slip your shorts and shirt back on and head towards the door. 

“Doll, wait-“ 

You leave your captain’s room and head back to your own, the one where you rarely slept nowadays. Frustrated, you flopped into bed and tried to fall asleep. 

— —

*now*

“Happy birthday, to you! Happy birthday, to you! Happy birthday dear y/n, happy birthday to you!” 

Your pirate crew of oddballs had planned a surprise little get together on the Victoria Punk as a celebration for your birthday. You smiled as you leaned forward, pulled your hair out of the way, and blew out the pink candles on your beautiful birthday cake. You had no idea Killer could bake, but this was a pleasant surprise. 

“Thank you guys, it means a lot… but we have more booze, right?” The crew hooted and hollered loudly as Wire poured more shots. Kid was next to you. You had kept up appearances since your argument in his bedroom, and for the most part you were… fine? You got along, didn’t argue, but you hadn’t shared a bed or a kiss in weeks. He was always near you to dispel any rumors throughout the ship that you two had been having problems. You both took two shots that Wire had poured for you. You winced a bit and then laughed. 

“Are you trying to make this my last birthday?!” You choke out across the table. Your crew mates laughed. You spent the next few hours drinking and enjoying your party. As the festivities died down, your captain pulled you aside against the wooden wall of the ship. 

“I have a special present for you tonight, doll face… want it?” He growled into your ear as he grabbed your hip with his flesh hand. The alcohol in your system was making you forget your argument weeks ago easily. 

“Mhmmm…. What is it? Can I have a hint?” You licked your lips and looked up at Kid, who had a devilish smirk on his face. 

“Let’s just say…” Kid moves his hand to wrap around your face. “It’s something you’ve always wanted.” His smile grows impossibly wider while staring directly down at you. He squishes your cheeks. “Now, open.”

You part your lips for him. Kid gently, slowly drops a ball of spit from his mouth into yours and uses his hand to close your lips. You clench your thighs and swallow. You moan at his vulgar actions. He was so fucking hot. 

“Good girl.” He coos at you. Your eyes roll back into your head. “Let’s go.” 

Kid swiftly picks you up and throws your body over his shoulder as he heads out of the dining room towards his captain’s quarters. The few remaining crew members gave you wolf whistles and cheers as you jokingly gave them the Queen’s Wave from your position draped over Kid’s back. 

You giggled as Kid swiftly carried you to his chambers on the ship. Before he reaches his door, he gives you a sharp, short, smack on the ass with his hand. 

“Oh!” You yelp out, surprised and aroused by the hit. 

“I hope you know what you’re in for, you little slut. You’re gonna be a real good girl for me tonight, right, sweetness?”  Kid growls at you as he bursts into his room, kicking the door closed behind you both. He tosses your body onto the bed face up as he stands at the edge of the bed looking down at you. 

In your horny, drunken state, you giggle up at him. 

“Hmmm…. How good are we talkin’ captain? Because I kinda-“ Your voice falters when you look up at the ceiling and see a chain with handcuffs hanging from it, right above the bed in the center. “Woah…”

Kid chuckled. 

“It’s gonna be a long night, doll, I hope you’re ready. Strip.” 

You begin to reach for the zipper on the side of your party dress to take it off. Impatient, Kid grabs the fabric of the dress right between your breasts with his large metal hand and rips it off your body, leaving the tatters on the bed surrounding your naked form. 

“I liked that one.” You pouted up at him. 

“I’ll buy you 10 more. Up. Now.” Kid grabs your wrists and pulls you up onto your knees on the bed. He lifts your hands above your head and snaps them into the handcuffs. Somehow, the cuffs were at a perfect height that your arms were suspended above your head and you were left kneeling with spread legs in the middle of the bed. You struggled against your cuffs, wanting to feel his toned body against yours so badly, but you couldn’t move. 

“Resisting? I thought you wanted this, hmm? Begging for so long for me to use and abuse your little body… Can’t handle it now that you’ve got it?” Kid slips his jacket off onto the floor, leaving him in just his trousers. He takes his cold, metal hand and wraps it around your whole body, squeezing the steel digits gently into your torso. 

“I-I can take it! I promise! I want it so bad!” You whine out and wiggle your hips in his direction. You couldn’t believe your boyfriend had finally agreed to indulge in your kinks. Your nipples were erect and your pussy was becoming slicker by the moment, just looking into his bright orange eyes that were dark with lust. 

“Oh you’ll take it, haha! You wanted it, you’ll get it.” Releasing your body with a sinister laugh, Kid raised his flesh hand. Something zoomed across the bedroom and arrived in his grasp. It was some sort of metal chain contraption. “Now hold still, sweetness… oh wait! You don’t have a choice!” Kid laughed again as he approached your naked, helpless form with the metal chain. It was a set of nipple clamps. You gasped. He started fastening the clamps onto your sensitive, erect nipples. 

“Oh Kid… fuck…” Your head fell back at the feeling of the cool metal squeezing your hardened buds. Once your captain was satisfied with his work he stood up fully and looked down at you again. 

“Fuck, doll… can’t believe how turned on you are by this. Kind of pathetic really…” Kid leaned in and wrapped his human hand around your neck. He pressed gently at the sides, constricting your breath. You let out a high pitched whine. Kid smirked before turning around and walked to his armchair across from the bed and sitting down. He leaned back in the chair and put up his boots. 

“Kid… baby! Want you to touch me! Please?” You struggle against your cuffs above your head and try to spread your knees further, so he could get a glimpse of your soaking sex. 

“HAH! You think it’ll be that easy? After bothering me for MONTHS to wreck your needy little body? When ALL I wanted to DO was pleasure you? Treat you? Give you all my love? You think I’ll just fuck you that easily? Hahaha, yeah right.” Kid was laughing at you… and it made your cunt gush. 

Kid raised his right hand and pulled his fingers into his palm. With this motion, using his devil fruit powers, the metal chain connecting your nipple clamps pulled into the air and towards him. Your nipples were being tugged painfully in your lover’s direction from your bound position on the bed. 

“OH FUCK!” You moan out loudly, this sensation new to you. Kid hears your pleasure and drops his telekinetic hold on the chain. He chuckles at your sigh of frustration. He then pulls and tugs at the chain using his powers, teasing you for several minutes. “Want more, my slutty little doll? Want me to touch between your legs? I can see how wet you’re getting…” Kid smiled as he tugged at your nipples more forcefully with the chain. 

“YES! More! Please! I need it!” You desperately choke out as he stimulates your sensitive tits. 

“Hmm… I don’t think you’ve earned the privilege of my cock yet… so this might have to do…” Suddenly a silver, shiny egg shaped object flew across the room from a drawer to rest against your left thigh. The object began vibrating lowly and you shrieked out in surprise. 

“Kid!!” You lurched forward as your body got used to the vibrations against your skin. 

“Uh oh… did little girl bite off more than she could chew?” Kid laughs as he slides the vibrator up towards your dripping sex. 

“No…” You whisper out as your hair hung in front of your face. 

Kid finally pushes the metal vibrator up to your cunt and presses it harshly against your throbbing clit.

"OH MY GOD!” You cry out and your knees tremble against the bed as your torso bends forward. You toss your head back and you shudder your hips towards the toy. 

As he moved the vibrator back and forth in a slow, smooth rocking motion on your clit, Kid also resumed his movements pulling at the chain on your nipple clamps. You moaned and squealed loudly under your boyfriend’s hands-free ministrations. You opened your eyes to see Kid in his chair unbuckling his pants and freeing his massive, hard cock. You watch him pump it slowly and release a guttural, primal groan. 

“Kid… please… I want it…” 

“Not until you cum for me like this, doll face.” Kid’s demeanor doesn’t falter with your begging. You were going to have to work for his dick, he couldn’t let you have it so easily. You were going to have to prove to him how much you loved being treated like a toy, a plaything for him. 

You felt the tension in your lower body build under the vibrations on your clit and squeezing of your nipples. 

“I’m so close.. I’m right there… Fuck, Kid, I’m gonna-!” Your body seizes forward under the immense pressure of your orgasm. Your juices spill out around the toy pressed against your messy cunt and you cry out in pleasure. After the waves of pleasure cease, you hang limply against your cuffs and pant out heavy breaths. 

“That’s a good girl… I guess you really are into fucked up shit, huh? How about you take this cock now, baby?” Kid gets up from his chair and sheds the rest of his clothing as he walks towards you. He reaches you, so close to your face, but out of reach for you to kiss him or feel him. 

“Yeah! I can take it!” You breath out, struggling against your restraints. 

“I have to admit… you are cute like this… want to feel me, doll?”

“Yes! Yes! I wanna touch you! I need to touch you! I love you so much, Kid! Please, let me!” You beg with tears in your eyes, you wanted to feel him inside of you so badly. He hadn’t even touched you with his hand all night. 

“As you wish, my love…” His heart panged, finally reaching that sensitive part inside of him. He used his devil fruit power to remove your cuffs and you flopped down bonelessly on the bed. You whined and whimpered for him.

“Shh… I’ll take you now, it’s ok…” He grabbed your wrists and kissed them soothingly. He laid you back and spread your legs for him as he slotted himself between them on the bed. He lined his weeping, angry cock up with your wet hole. Before  he pushed into you, he pressed the crook of his metal hand into your neck and the mattress. As his cold metal squeezed your neck, Kid fully shoved his cock inside of you. 

“Kid… Yes…” You squeaked out as he choked you out. 

“Holy shit you’ve never been this wet or tight before. You really are a little pain slut! Maybe I shouldn’t have had you wait this long if I knew how good you’d feel on my cock like this…” Kid stutters out as he pounds harder and harder into your pussy. 

You felt yourself ready to cum so quickly, it was almost embarrassing… but you felt so safe and comfortable with your captain… The wet glide of his cock in your hungry walls was enough to send you teetering towards the edge again. 

“CAPTAIN! Wanna cum again, please!” Tears spilled from your eyes down your cheeks to meet his metal hand around your throat. 

“Well since it is your special day, who am I to deny you?” Kid picks up the speed of this thrusts and brings his flesh hand up in the air. The vibrator zooms back to your clit and picks up speed. The combination of sensations was so much, your head was spinning and you couldn’t no longer form a coherent sentence. 

“Kid, I- AH!” You squirt and writhe all over your boyfriends thick cock as he relentlessly pounds into you from above. Your orgasm wracked through your body and left you boneless.

“I’m almost there, sweetness, you can take it…” He huffs and puffs as he chases the feeling of your needy cunt milking him of his release. 

Oversensitive from your orgasm, you cry loudly and reach out with your hands to grip at his shoulders. 

“Take all of it, doll, I know you can.” Kid grunts and releases his seed deep inside of you. He softly whimpers as he grinds his pelvis into yours, riding out the last spasms of his climax. He eventually flops onto you and buries his face in your ample chest. A few minutes of silence and heavy breathing go by. 

“Ok maybe you were right about that.” Kid finally mumbles into your breasts. 

“I know.” You chuckle and wrap both of your bodies in his red silk sheets. “Told you I could take it.”

“And take it you did, baby. I love you.” Your man nuzzles into your tits and makes himself comfortable. 

“I love you too, Kid.” And you both drift happily off to sleep. 

xx

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #kid x reader #eustass captain kidd #eustass x reader

[bunni-v1]

Cureé

Chapter 3: Respite Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Tw: Lilia is unsettling; reader is non-binary but is called "princess"

Info: Epel x Reader; Trey x Reader; Lilia and Reader; GN!Reader

🍓I'm back. Not really lol. But I finally finished the third chapter! Yay!! I promise I haven't given up on this account, I'm just ungodly busy...

Taglist: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing @roseinbloom02 @savanaclaw1996 (please tell me if you want to be added/removed!)

It was a quarter to one in the morning, and you lay restless in your bed. For nearly three hours you have been unable to sleep, tossing and turning with unanswered questions circling your head. No one whom you’d talked to had been any help in discovering the truth, and those who could help had not visited you in weeks. You were getting restless.

You sat up from your bed, accepting the fact that this would be another night without sleep. Grabbing your pretty purple silk robe – a gift from your brother this year – and slipping it on, you decided you would just have to go on another walk to clear your head. You peeked out of a crack in your door, smiling as you saw Ace and Deuce sleeping peacefully next to it. They were horrible at their job, but you adored them either way.

You began your stroll across the floors of the palace. Walks were the only way for you to clear your head now – since hunting was off the table, you had to make do with what you could. How you missed hunting, but you were too afraid of the forest to even try anymore.

Truthfully, you missed your life before seeing that horrible monster from the deepest parts of the forest. Sure, you were blindsided and forced into the strict rules your brother set, but at least you were constantly struck with stress and night terrors of that thing. At least you still had your best friend by your side.

You hadn’t seen Epel since that monster had appeared and torn your worldview apart. You worried that Vil had killed him without informing you, or at the least stripped him of his position. Sevens, if he’d done either, you might cause an uprising yourself.

You ran your fingers through your hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. Things had grown so intense, and yet nothing was happening, which only made you more frustrated the longer you thought. Why couldn’t things be as simple as the fairy tales you read as a child? Where was your prince charming to sweep you off your feet, and slay the evil beast so you both could bring peace to your beloved kingdom?

“Princess?” A familiar voice called behind you.

Your heart shot up into your throat, half startled and half excited. You turned quickly, locking eyes with familiar blue ones.

“Epel,” you sighed, “thank the sevens you’re okay!”

He rushed across the corridor, wrapping you up in a tight hug. He rarely allowed you to touch him, especially not in such an intimate way. It melted your heart to see that he had missed you as much as you had missed him.

“‘M sorry fer disappearing on ya,” he mumbled into your neck, “I woulda ‘f I coulda.”

You squeezed him tighter, “Don’t apologize, I know you would never abandon me.”

He pulled back, just enough that you could see each other, but his grip on your arms was firm – as if he was afraid you might disappear again if he let you go. 

“I thought ya were real hurt by that… thing… yer brother wouldn’ even tell me if ya were okay ‘r not.”

“Same thing here. He won’t even talk about you anymore, I thought for sure he’d beheaded you.”

He lifted one of his hands, slapping his face, “Seems like it’s all here.”

You laughed, patting his cheek, “Appears so… I won’t have to kill him – over this, at least.”

You took a moment to take in his appearance. His hair was a bit longer than when you last saw him, and it curled out more at the ends – you thought it was kind of cute. His face was still clear of any blemishes, but you could see in his eyes that he was tired.

“How are things,” you questioned gingerly. His eyes darted away from yours, a scowl marring his pretty features, “Epel…?”

He hesitated, “They’re… not great. Vil’s threatenin’ ta strip me of my title and status if I pull a stunt like that again. I don’ know what that’d mean fer ma granny ‘nd me, but nothin’ good fer sure.”

You frowned, taking his hands into yours, “I would never let that happen,” you assured, “I need you around, and that’s enough for Vil to keep you.”

He gave you a shaky smile, not confident in your conviction. You weren’t either. Still, you weren’t going to let anything bad happen to Epel.

An awkward silence filled the halls. Both of you were tense, still shaken up by what had been happening since you’d been separated. Too much time had passed since then and now, and you both had your plates full of responsibility and trauma you had yet to face. 

“Can we–?”

“We should–!”

You both spoke at the same time, laughing at the situation you’d found yourselves in. This tenseness wasn’t natural for the two of you, who could tell each other anything, and the laughter bubbled up faster than you could stop it.

“Yes.” You agreed together.

The two of you made it back to your room without bumping into anyone who may scold you – though Epel did nearly wake up Ace trying to pose him. He laid on your bed and you sprawled yourself out across his torso and spoke of all the things that had happened since you’d last seen each other. It felt good to talk to someone who really knew you.

You learned Epel’s workload had nearly doubled, likely as punishment for endangering you, and he had been too busy to even think of visiting you. In turn, you told him all about your suitors – which he found hilarious. His favorite was the dashing mystery man who still had not come for his hat.

“Maybe he fergot about ya’!” He teased.

“Oh– Shut up, you’re being mean!”

It was like old times – something you missed more than anything in the world recently. Still, you could not act like your present did not exist, even if you wished it didn’t.

“That… thing in the forest,” you started, and Epel nodded nervously.

“You’ve done yer own research on it, ahm assumin’.”

“Yes… but nothing has been very helpful, there’s no record in any of the books I’ve read. Both inside the castle and out, it’s like these things don’t exist.”

“I’ve run into the same issue, fer the most part…” he trailed off, a nervous look overtaking his features.

“What’s wrong Epel,” you queered.

He bit his lip, refusing to look you in the eye.

“Epel, you know you can tell me anything…” you assure, placing a hand on his forearm.

“Princess, y’know how Vil tells ya that magic is dangerous and yer not allowed ta practice it cause it could hurt ya? How no one in the castle ‘s allowed ta practice it ‘cept a few people?”

You frowned.

“Ahm one’ve them people. ‘Nd I wanted ta tell ya, but… I- I dunno I was worried you might… I-” The words wouldn’t come for him. He didn’t have a real reason, but he didn’t need one.

You squeezed his arm, giving a tense smile, “I understand Epel, it’s not like you practicing magic changes who you are… right?”

He shook his head, “I still shoulda told ya, yer my best friend… we don’t keep secrets-”

“Anymore. We don’t keep secrets anymore,” you corrected lightly, “besides, you being a magician is the least of my concerns right now.”

He let out a sigh, relaxing into your sheets as if the weight of the world had just fallen off his shoulders. 

“Sevens, that felt damn good,” he groaned, “hidin’ that from ya was the worst feelin’ in the world.”

You laughed, rolling off his torso and onto your back. You understood exactly how he felt – the amount of things you had to hide from your brother was unnatural.

He turned to you, “What about you? ‘M sure ya got a lot goin’ on in yer head.”

“Where do I even begin?” you cried out. “This… monster… thing has been haunting me. I- I can’t find anything on it. It’s like… I don’t know… it’s purposefully being hidden from me.”

He nodded in agreement, “Yer probably right, ‘nd ‘m not just sayin’ that.”

“What do you mean…?”

“Yer brother has always been up to some suspicious stuff, y’know. He’s real secretive of his magic studies, and recently he and some’ve them suitors ‘f yours have been havin’ sneaky secret meetings.”

“Really? Which ones– I mean, and what about? You don’t think it could be linked to… you know… what happened to us…?”

“I think it’s the blue guy with the wild hair, ‘nd that fae prince ya stood up at yer party – well, usually it’s his envoy. The one with the big creepy eyes?”

“General Vanrouge?”

“Yeah, him, and some silvery-haired guy” He exclaimed, “I can never really make out what they’re sayin’ though, but ’m sure it’s got something to do with that ink monster.”

You bit your lip. At least your worries weren’t unfounded, but now the threat felt more real than ever before. Worse yet, you were essentially powerless against it. You had no real idea of what this thing was, no idea of how it came about, and no magical power. All you had was the hope that the mysterious man would come back as he promised you.

“Hey,” Epel soothed, “don’t worry, we’re gonna figure this thing out, kay? Yer not alone, I’ll do mah best to find out what I can.”

You nodded. Worrying like this wasn’t going to solve anything, you would just have to work harder to find a solution.

“Thank you Epel.”

“‘F course, princess.”

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

After you let Epel slip away, you decided you needed time to relax. You hadn’t realized just how tense everything had made you, but your whole body was aching and your head was thrumming. Tea. Sevens, you needed a nice herbal tea and maybe some pastries. Palace staff wouldn’t be awake at this hour, so you would have to make it yourself.

Re-tying your robe around your waist, and placing the hunter's hat on your head, you cracked your door open to see who was at your door. Pleasantly surprised to find Trey, Riddle Roseheart’s personal guard, outside. It was odd to see him without his other half, Cater, and especially odd that he would be guarding your door. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he spotted you.

“Sneaking out, Your Majesty?” he said with a teasing air about him. The guards from the Rosedome were so much more fun than your own.

“No. Not with you here at least,” you replied, stepping outside of your room, “I was hoping to grab some tea, what a surprise it is to find you here, and not my dearly beloved Ace and Deuce.”

He smiled, “We – and all the other kingdom’s guards for that matter – have had to adhere to the rules of your head guard to stay here, so we’re on a regular rotation at night. I’m your guy until six.”

He gave you a wink, which made your heart flutter more than you wanted it to. Damn your brother and his sheltering you, it makes you so weak to simple affections.

You composed yourself internally and nodded, “That’s fine, I don’t mind who stands outside of my door so long as they are pleasant to talk to.”

He hummed, “It’s quite late for the princess to be up, don’t you think?”

“My head is full of too many thoughts, that’s why I wanted tea – and maybe some pastries, if I can make them.”

“Pastries would be nice, wouldn’t they?”

“Are you asking to accompany me, Sir Clover?”

“Only from a distance, if the princess would allow it.”

You smiled and nodded. Yes, Rosedome guards were far more entertaining than your own. Trey was required to follow you around regardless, but he made a little game of asserting that. You wished your palace guards could banter with you as easily as he did, not give you simple yes or no. Truly no fun.

You continued your light back and forth with your new friend as you made your way to the kitchen. He mostly spoke about his family and the several younger siblings he helped raise – which would explain the brotherly vibes that he gave off. He was also Riddle’s childhood friend, which you were surprised to find out.

His mother was so controlling that she wouldn’t even allow the two of you to talk whenever she visited with him. To find out that he had actual friends was a shocker, and a bit heartbreaking. Why weren’t you allowed to be friends with Riddle Rosehearts?

“What was he like as a child? Has he always had such a temper?” you wondered aloud.

“No,” Trey laughed, “Sevens, he was such a timid kid – he didn’t even know how to ask for his turn on the swing.”

“Really? Goodness, what a funny thought. Timid Riddle Rosehearts!”

“Isn’t it? I can hardly imagine him anything but angry now,” he sighed.

You frowned a little. His mother must’ve done quite a number on him, to change him from sweet to monstrous. You’ve seen that sweet side of him in the library. You hoped you could see more of it.

“You said you wanted to make pastries?” Trey asked suddenly, holding the door of the kitchen open for you.

You nodded, ‘“If possible, I don’t usually bake, so it might not be easy.”

“My family owns a bakery, so I can help you out.”

“Oh! Wouldn’t that be asking too much, though? You’re not here to bake for me.” You worried.

“I love to bake, so don’t worry.”

You glided across the kitchen floor, quickly finding the cabinet full of your favorite teas. You had helped the kitchen staff stock it yourself, to ensure that you could always sneak a pot if you had sleepless nights like this one. Trey looked around the kitchen in wonder and delight – the Rosedom must not have such a magnificent kitchen like this. 

The pretty cream-colored walls contrasted with the black-marbled floors, making the room appear larger than it truly was. The stove was impressive, with room to cook several meals at once, made of black stone mined from the Sunset Savannah. The counters were made of dark oak wood, shining in the reflection of the lamplight. Better yet, this wasn’t even the main kitchen – this one belonged to you and your brother to use as you need.

Trey whistled, taking everything in as you began to boil water for your tea. 

“Impressed?”

“Very. My parents would kill to have something like this,” he responded absently.

You hummed, “I love this kitchen, though I don’t really know how to use anything other than the kettle.”

“Riddle’s the same way,” he laughed, “if I tell him what to do he can cook it up easily, but he can’t do it himself.”

You smiled at the affection in his voice, “My mom used to make these lovely raspberry tarts. They were so warm and sweet, and I used to eat a whole plateful by myself. I’ve tried to follow her recipe, but they always come out sunken in or burnt.”

“Why don’t we make those then?”

“Oh, could we,” you say breathlessly, “I would love to try again – I miss her baking so much.”

“Of course, and I’ll make sure we won’t burn them, it might take the rest of the night, though.”

“That's fine! I wasn’t planning on sleeping anyway.”

He laughs heartily, “Let's get started then!”

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

Baking was much harder than you expected. You weren’t getting the expected results because you weren’t reading the measurements your mother wrote right. Instead of teaspoons, you were putting tablespoons, and several other mistakes like that. It was embarrassing, but Trey was gentle and patient with you.

You had also been overcooking your tarts, which is why they never came out that delicious golden brown you loved. When Trey pulled them out of the oven, you practically salivated at the sight. They looked and smelled exactly like your mom used to make, it was like a dream come true. You would’ve dug in if they weren’t so hot, steam was still floating off their tops.

Trey set them on the counter, stepping back and smiling proudly at his work. They looked delicious, but the two of you had definitely made too many. Even though you loved those tarts, you could never eat all of them – not even with Trey’s help.

“We made too many…” you pouted.

“That’s not a bad thing, Your Majesty,” he chuckled, patting your head carefully.

“I don’t know what to do with them, I don’t want them to go bad!”

He hummed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “Well, if you don’t want to waste them I know someone who would be more than happy to take some off your hands.”

“Please! I would love to share them. My mother's cooking is something everyone should get to experience.”

“I’ll be sure to get them to him,” he laughed, “you should get to bed. It’s late, and I’m sure you have plenty to do tomorrow.”

You sigh, picking up one of the tarts and taking a bite out of it. It was gooey and soft and perfect, just like your mom used to make. You were tired, though. Incredibly so.

“I’ll get these all packed up,” Trey said, moving to hand you a cup of your favorite herbal tea, “you get back to bed, I don’t want you falling asleep on the kitchen floor.”

You give him a grateful look, taking in a whiff of the sweet scent of tea. You moved back to your room slowly – partially because you were tired, mostly because you enjoyed the quietness of the halls at night. You loved to have the freedom to walk the halls without whispers or being bothered by staff. It was just you, a normal person – as normal as a princess could be.

You took a sip of your tea, closing your eyes and delighting in the taste. Opening your eyes again, you jumped, spilling some tea in the process.

In front of you now stood General Lilia Vanrogue of the Valley of Thorns. On the ceiling. Part of Prince Malleus’ personal entourage. He was unique-looking, with black and pink hair and bright ruby-red eyes as big as a doll. He was the picture-perfect representation of the unsettling, and he was staring you down.

His head cocked to the side, and a mischievous smile crossed his features. Your blood ran cold at the sight. What was he going to do to you? Was he going to attack you? Drink your blood for power? (He was Fae, not a vampire, you dunce.)

“I like your hat,” he spoke in a voice deeper than the seas.

It startled you, expecting a much smaller voice – but you supposed Fae didn’t subscribe to normal convention. You didn’t realize what he was saying until a few seconds after he spoke, and only then did you nervously adjust the hat on your head.

“Ah, thank you, General Vanrouge,” you managed to squeak out.

He hummed, taking a spot on the floor with you now, “There’s no need for such formalities when we are alone. Lilia will do fine.”

You swallowed, tapping your fingers along your glass, “Well, thank you then, Lilia.”

You stood in silence as he observed you, at least that is what you think he was doing. His eyes never really left your own, and he didn’t make any indication of thought or sizing you up. He just… matched you.

Then, again, “I’ve been wanting to speak with you, but you’re very slippery.”

“Uh, thank you, I think…”

Suddenly, he bowed, deeply and respectfully. It took you off guard, especially since you knew he owed you no real respect – not after how you blew up at his Prince.

“I apologize for Prince Malleus’ behavior at your birthday party,” he said, “he is not used to socializing with others, especially not people he is trying to court.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was… nice to have an apology but… he wasn’t the one you wanted it from.

“Uhm, it’s alright. I shouldn’t have caused such a scene,” you stuttered out, “and you don’t need to bow.”

He stood upright, fixing you with a smile, “I do not blame you for your reaction, I would’ve done the same in your position.”

He looked up to the moon in the sky, lips twisting into a little frown, “It’s getting late, you should get to sleep.”

You didn’t respond, instead just nodding at him. When he didn’t move you frowned, face twisting in confusion. He raised an eyebrow, and you realized he was waiting for you to go first. You skittered away quickly after that, feeling his eyes pierce the back of your skull until you rounded the corner. 

Fae were terrifying.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #lilia twst #lilia vanrouge

[writers-ex]

the rings of ruthless ryujin

evil queen!ryujin x princess!reader

word count: 1118

warnings: g!p, dom!ryujin, fingering with f receiving, sexual tension, mentions of loss of family and war, teasing, enemies to ????, reader called princess, fingering with r i n g s, we all fall eventually for ryujin so why fight it?

a/n: thank you to @minamoo for the idea i hope this can please you a bit, let me know your thoughts on our dark queen <3

once upon a time there lived an evil queen who had only one desire in life …

"at last we finally did it my pet..." ryujin whispers as she eyes the lonely castle. it took a few months but the siege was completed and your kingdom had finally fallen to the shin reign and ryujin came to collect her spoils. as she approached you watched her from your bedroom with a tore look on your face, the love of your life was finally coming to change your life but never had you expected a war that leads to your kingdom being overthrown and lost to the evil queen of the south. heart racing you hear the clanging of her metal boots near your door, ryujin orders her troops to check for any survivors while she dealt with you. knocking on your door she clears her throat. "um your highness it's-"

"i know who you are, enter." opening your door ryujin looks at your back as you try to muster up the courage to face her. 

"...i'm sorry it had to come like this but if you could please come with me it would make this a lot easier than it seems..." scoffing you turn to see her with a bored look.

"and why should i come with you? this is my chambers and while you took my land the least you could do is respect me in my personal quarters i deserve at least this...please." walking up to you ryujin's dark cloak sways behind her as she sighs as she stops mid-way.

"fine i will allow this but come this evening you must meet me in your parent's chambers or else i won't be this kind." staying silent she takes it as an agreement and walks away leaving you alone with your thoughts. as evening approaches you change into a more intimate gown ready to sleep when you remember ryujin's request heading to your parent's chambers you feel the quiet hallways echo your footsteps as you walk over. following the faint candlelight you enter the room and see a figure sitting on a nearby chair, walking closer it's ryujin with less armor on and now just a plain garb with her crown to the side and her many rings around her hands that shimmer against the light. approaching her ryujin watches you sit at the foot of the bed waiting for either of you to speak. the silence cuts through the tension as you grip the fabric of your gown waiting for something anything to happen.

ryujin studies you closely, this has to be the first time she's ever wanted to have a real relationship with someone but her first meeting with you wasn't exactly stellar with the whole killing your family and taking over your kingdom but as an evil queen she had a reputation to uphold. she had done all she could to get your attention beforehand, sending flowers, gifts, poems, broken bones of your enemies and yet it still wasn't enough hence the reason she was here now. as her future wife she needed to make sure you knew what you were getting into whether you like it or not and tonight you would learn. "you do realize we'll be married by the end of this week 'princess'?" saying your title like it disgusted her ryujin breaks the silence first. "you might as well fawn over me and be a good little princess as i do all the heavy lifting."

"ha! as if i have more brains than your whole army combined, now show your 'wife' some respect you did just murder my family a moment ago."

"right and this 'family' of yours did they even love you? you were just another tool they used to get rich. they didn't love you like i do." getting up you poke her square in the chest.

"love?! you call this love? i just see another sad political figure getting all her cards in order before the next attack. you know nothing of love you…you ‘'beast'." staring at your hand ryujin looks up at you and starts laughing darkly making your hair stick up and your body shiver. she continues her chilling laugh as she gets up and grabs your hand pushing you down to bed, her rings making you gulp and regret your words. pinning you down to the bed with her topping over you as she quietly watches you glare at her with angry eyes.

“so you think i’m a beast huh? then i might as well act like one.” going down she kisses you roughly making you groan at her harsh bites against your lips. her hard on evident in her trousers as it’s rubs against your dress, feeling a bit smug at how ryujin reacts to you taking your knee, you rub it against her making her moan into the kiss. the sudden noise makes your dress suddenly feel tighter you whine and grind against her waist. shaking her head she pulls away and looks down at your red puffed lips. “what’s wrong princess?”

“…t-too tight…need it off…please.” seeing you squirm she lets go of your arms and sits you up ripping off your dress eyeing your underwear. slowly sliding off your panties she caresses your thighs with her rings making you jolt at the cold metal. “you…beast….”

a sacrasitc laugh escapes her lips as she starts taking off her trousesr letting her dick spring out making you gasp. 

"keep saying that i'll make sure you're bed ridden for the first part of our 'honeymoon'." slipping two fingers in you makes your body jolt up at the foreign feeling.

"w-what the hell?? take off your-mmmmh!!"  as ryujin starts pumping you with her rings your protests are interrupted by the odd feeling of pleasure you feel from them rubbing against your walls. as she picks up her pace with a fixed gaze ryujin's pupils dilate watching you, never has she been this turned on by someone and she's had many dreams of this night and having you in the flesh react so beautiful precum starts to drip from her. right then and there she made a vow to never let anyone steal you from her nor have another soul gaze upon your beauty. you would become the most beautiful legend of the land as the wife of the evil queen hidden away in the castle for her use and to love for the rest of her life.

"oh princess...i haven't even touched you with my tip and you're about to come undone...fuck i could do this for the rest of my life." and she did.

making you her pretty little fuck princess for the rest of her life happily ever after...

#itzy hard hours #itzy hard thoughts #hannie.writes #g!p itzy #itzy #ryujin hard hours #ryujin hard thoughts #itzy smut #ryujin smut #ryujin #g!p ryujin #itzy ryujin smut #ryujin x fem reader #ryujin x fem!reader #ryujin x reader #kpop x reader #kpop hard hours #kpop hard thoughts

[renstardust]

Daddy Lessons

Kylo Ren x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,103

Warnings: Pregnancy, Mentions of Non-Con, Mentions of Kidnapping, Brief Mention of Vomit, Oral Sex

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AO3 Link

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Kylo Ren was a patient man.

Patient enough to keep a straight face beneath his mask whenever you swung at him, when you screamed, when you protested, when you threw various items. He was a man who had a bite bigger than his bark, with the ability to pin you against the wall or have you face-down on his bed without making a sound.

He knew that you’d be difficult for the first few weeks, it’s not like you came here willingly. And he was willing to wait until you finally fucking admitted that your life on the Supremacy was a thousand times better than your life back on the cesspool that was Daiyu.

The first few days sucked when he had you leashed to the headboard of his bed, the beskar chain just long enough for you to use the bathroom when you needed. He hand-fed you meals you had never heard of, expensive, incredibly seasoned foods. The same hands that stroked your hair, that squeezed your throat when you would talk back or spit at him, that violated you several times a day, sometimes even in your sleep.

You often wondered what he looked like behind that mask - you knew he was human at least, because of those warm, alabaster hands with long, thick fingers that stuffed your pussy and kept you feeling full for hours.

All you knew was that Kylo Ren was fucking ruthless, a man who didn’t take no for an answer, a man who took you for the sake of his own entertainment, who killed for work and for sport. He was sick and he knew it, shameless whenever he fucked you and shut you up with a Force compulsion.

But the worst part was that you were starting to like him.

And then, he was gone.

A three-month long mission, he explained, leaving you in his quarters with nothing but a holotv and two of his knights who stayed behind. Ushar and Kuruk took turns checking on you several times a day, bringing you meals and updating Kylo about you on the daily. At least you weren’t leashed, and you could finally take bubble baths without worrying about him storming in and groping you beneath the water.

Your mind often wandered, curious as to what your fate would be if Kylo’s mission failed and he never made it back home. You worried about the future, unsure of what was to become of you even if he did make it back. Would he eventually get bored of you and drop you off on some desert planet? Would he ever take off his mask, and when? Was he planning on having a future with you that would ever be…normal?

Sixteen days after Kylo’s departure, you woke up in the middle of the night, immediately finding yourself rushing to the toilet as you leaned over it and emptied your dinner’s contents from earlier. As if on cue, Ushar let himself inside, standing in the doorway of the bathroom as you lowered the toilet’s lid, resting your cheek against it.

“I’ll have Medbay send a nurse,” Ushar spoke lowly, watching you with the same impossible-to-read expression behind his mask as Kylo would.

“No, it’s fine,” You whispered shakily. “Just…give me a few minutes.”

Ushar sighed, pulling out his datapad and typing away, ignoring your request.

“Ushar-“

“Master Ren said to have a nurse check you if you exhibit any signs of illness or injury, Miss Ren.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, both at his statement and at the name he often addressed you as despite your protests.

A few minutes passed, your nausea finally fading away, your body feeling surprisingly normal again once you had gotten yourself up from the bathroom floor and brushed your teeth. You made your way out of the bathroom, Ushar sitting in one of Kylo’s lounge chairs as a nurse finished setting up a scanning device.

“I’m going to check your vitals, ma’am. You may sit wherever is most comfortable.”

You nodded at her words, finding yourself back on Kylo’s bed, sitting comfortably near the pillows. The nurse held the scanning device in her hand, running it over your forehead and down to your navel a few times, the blue holographic light on it drawing your attention. You missed seeing colors, the Supremacy was constantly drowning in dark slates and Kylo’s quarters were no exception. His black silk sheets, black leather chairs, black marble bathroom and black wardrobe of clothing were nearly identical in hue to the expanse of deep, dark space just outside of the windows.

A few soft beeps sounded in the silent room, the nurse glancing down at her datapad and looking over the results.

“You seem to have a normal temperature, nothing seems to be out of the ordin- oh.”

You spoke up as her face paled. “Oh?”

“Is there a problem?” Ushar watched like a hawk from his seat, cocking his head. The nurse’s hands shook as she gave him the datapad, letting him scan over the results as well.

A beat, then a deep chuckle.

“I see.”

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows, throwing your hands up. “I would like to know what’s wrong with my body.”

“Well, it seems that you are, um…” The nurse hesitated, gathering her words.

“You are with child, Miss Ren.”

You could already feel the smirk behind Ushar’s mask. You could have sworn your heart stopped. You couldn’t recall when you had last taken a breath of air.

“I’ll alert Master Ren immediately,” Ushar stood up, unlocking his data pad as you finally choked out a word.

“…No.”

Ushar’s gaze snapped up at you as the nurse began packing her things, making a quiet exit.

“No?”

“Don’t…h-he just left- it’s only been two weeks-“

“This would be far more important to him than the mission, Miss Ren.”

“Ushar, please,” You begged, your eyes beginning to fill up with tears. “Just let me have this one thing. I’ll tell him when he’s back.”

“We cannot keep secrets from Master Ren. Especially regarding your health-”

“Please.” A single tear began rolling down your cheek, stopping at your jawline and dripping onto the soft comforter below. “I haven’t had control over my life in months…my body, this… baby, is the one thing I have left. Let me tell him after the mission.”

A beat. Then, a deep sigh.

“Okay.”

-

Three months passed by rather quickly.

You had taken two more pregnancy tests immediately after your revelation with the nurse and Ushar, just to be sure. Both of them came up as positive, but you still struggled to comprehend that there was a living thing growing inside of your womb.

A fetus that was half of him.

You started to believe it more by the second month of Kylo’s absence. Your breasts were extra tender and were beginning to get more swollen, you had mood swings that Ushar and Kuruk had to unfortunately deal with, your period stopped showing up, and you felt more tired than usual despite the fact that the only physical activity you did in Kylo’s quarters was an occasional set of sit-ups, push-ups, or masturbating.

Not that your fingers could satisfy you the way his would. Or his mouth. Or his…no, gross. You’re still a hostage, remember?

Loneliness began settling in by the third month, and you loathed it. Your pregnancy hormones made you feel extra sensitive, extra needy, and you couldn’t stand the way you somewhat craved his presence when you laid alone in that ginormous bed each night.

But one morning, after you stepped out of the shower, you saw a change in yourself as you glanced at the mirror that you hadn’t noticed even just the day before. Your skin had an extra glow to it, warmth touching it and making you look healthier than ever. Your lower abdomen had a small, but noticeable bump that you could have sworn wasn’t there a day ago. Your breasts were fuller, as were your lips, and your hair was shinier, longer.

You felt…. beautiful?

That heavy feeling of loneliness lifted just a smidge as you placed the palm of your hand on your little baby bump, chewing on your bottom lip. You remembered that you weren’t as alone as you’d thought.

-

“You’ll be able to find out the sex in a few weeks, Miss Ren.”

The nurse, who’s name you’d discovered was Alaia, scanned your belly carefully as you sat on your usual place on the neatly-made bed, a form-fitting but comfortable dress clothing your body. The soft, grey fabric accentuated your curves and your bump, stopping at about mid-calf on you.

“That’s really…wow,” You trailed off, eyeing the datapad in her other hand at the ultrasound. You could see the growing fetus, so small but already developing so quickly. “I can’t believe that twelve weeks have already gone by.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I was carrying my son either,” Alaia chuckled, eyeing the ultrasound carefully. “It’s even crazier when you see them go off to college.”

“Oh gods, don’t make me think about that,” You furrowed your eyebrows, placing your hand on your belly instinctively. “One day at a time.”

She smiled softly. “Exactly, there is no need to think that far ahead, dear. Take it one day at a time and savor every moment.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Ren. And I’m sure that the Supreme Leader is just itching to get home to you.”

Your face fell slightly as her words, almost forgetting the inevitable that was constantly lingering. The obvious tension that continued to float in the air between you and Ushar. Kylo still doesn’t know.

“He, um,” You whispered softly, wringing your hands together. “I still haven’t told him.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widened.

“You…you won’t tell him, right?”

Alaia gave you an empathetic look, shaking her head.

“Of course not, Miss Ren. That is between you and him. Besides, breaking patient confidentiality would cost me my job, possibly even my life. That rule applies for all of my patients.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

Alaia smiled, giving the ultrasound and your vitals one last lookover.

“The baby looks very healthy, as do you. Keep taking those prenatal vitamins and try not to stress too much.”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, the door to your quarters swung open, heavy footsteps storming into the room. Kylo stopped in the threshold that separated the bedroom area from the kitchen and living room area, his chest heaving.

“Get out. Now.”

His voice in the vocoder of his mask spat like venom as he addressed Alaia, who was quickly packing her things, making her exit. Hearing him again felt unreal - the sound itself brought chills to your arms and to the back of your neck. Your entire body shivered involuntarily as you took in his appearance for the first time in three months, and it was somewhat comforting to see that he looked pretty much the same as he did when he left, not that the mask could look much different anyways.

Kylo’s body looked exhausted, and depraved, his hands in tight fists, knuckles white from the tension begging to snap. Your lips parted and you scrambled to stand up, Ushar rushing in behind him a few seconds later, coming to a screeching halt at the entrance at his Master’s presence.

“Master.”

“Make your exit, Ushar. We’ll discuss this later.”

You stared at the two of them incredulously, your hands grazing your bump, a comforting habit you had. Ushar turned hesitantly, knowing not to push his Master’s orders any further, shutting the door behind him as he went out into the hall.

“You didn’t think,” Kylo began, taking his steps in your direction. “That the moment my ship got back into this fucking region of the galaxy , I wouldn’t sense you?”

Your body shook like a wet kitten.

“I-…I was going to-“

“Tell me? But it what, slipped your mind?” Kylo stopped just a few feet in front of you, mask looming down, towering over you as he drank you in. “It slipped you, and Ushar’s , minds that you were fucking pregnant? With my child?”

That, was precisely what made you snap.

“Your fucking child?” Your eyes narrowed as you feebly attempted to stand your ground, staring deep into the metal ridges of his mask. “The child that I’ve been carrying, that I’ve been developing, inside of my body?”

“Watch it.”

“Or what?” You challenged him, stepping forward. “You’ll smack me around, you’ll fuck me against my will again? You don’t scare me anymore, Kylo. I kept this fucking secret because it was the one thing that I had for myself. You have the entire kriffing galaxy in your hands, including me, and I don’t even get choices anymore!”

His fists relaxed at his sides as you took his unusual silence as a notion to continue.

“So yes, I kept it a secret. Because for the three months you were gone, I wanted to feel like I had the smallest, tiniest bit of control over my life again. And I am certainly not going to let a man whose face I haven’t even seen, by the way, disrespect me for wanting to feel human again.”

Kylo stared at you, a moment of silence happening between the two of you as you briefly pondered if you had just spoken your last words. The dull, comforting sound of the Supremacy hummed like white noise, before being disrupted by the clicking sound of an air release, which you quickly realized was his helmet.

Coming off of his head.

In front of you.

Your shoulders slumped and your eyes widened as you drank in his appearance for the first time, a thousand realizations flooding into your mind. Realizations about the fact that you’d been fucked by this man, about how beautiful your child was going to be, about how grateful you were to know that he truly was human.

His whiskey-colored eyes held a warmth that made your chest ache, full, pink lips, an aquiline nose that made your thighs threaten to squeeze together. His hair fell close to his shoulders, dark waves of onyx that looked incredibly well-maintained, soft, even.

Kylo Ren was fucking unbelievable.

“I figured that some time apart would have been good for us,” He finally spoke, his unmodified voice softening, making your lashes flutter. “That’s why I accepted the mission. To give you some space, to let you be with yourself for a few months so you’d feel less, less-“

“S- um, suffocated?” You stuttered, already irritated at yourself for feeling nervous around him now. Gods, get yourself together.

“Yes. I should’ve considered the probability of this happening, though…” Kylo broke his stare from your eyes and directed his gaze to your little bump.

“You would’ve cut the mission short if I’d let Ushar tell you.”

He focused on the bump, his fingertips gently grazing it through your dress fabric.

“Of course I would’ve.”

“I wasn’t going to let you do that.” You whispered, your voice trembling as he stroked you, closing his eyes for a moment. He was doing something with the Force, probably reaching out to your kid who was currently floating idly in amniotic fluid. Sensing them. A bit of jealousy tugged at your hormonal mind.

“You better not be securing your place as their favorite parent with that mind stuff you do.”

Kylo chuckled, his eyes blinking open and locking onto yours. “Relax, little one. I was just getting a feel for them.”

“So,” Your eyes involuntarily darted between his and his lips. “You’re not mad? About…this?”

“The only thing I was upset about was that I couldn’t be here to watch over the two of you for the last few months.”

“Well,” You whispered, watching as he lowered down to his knees, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your chest from the sight of him this way. “You’re here now, and I’ve had a great nurse, and the knights have been helpful, and…I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

Kylo’s hands cupped the sides of your bump as he pressed his lips against it, digging his nose into you. Something about the sight of you pregnant, the feeling of his child growing inside of you, had the scariest man in the galaxy on his knees, in a daze of absolute awe.

“Let me make it up to you for storming in earlier.”

He mumbled against the fabric of your dress, toying with the hem near your calves and slipping his hands up, pulling the bottom of your dress up. You hated how easily you ached for his touch now, not realizing how horny your hormones could make you until his hands felt like fire on your skin.

“D-don’t you have to speak to Ushar- fuck, ” You whispered when his hand reached your panties, his thumb pressing against your clit through the cotton.

“I’m p-pretty sure he’s waiting outside the door-“

Kylo hummed, lifting your dress high enough to drape over his head as he tugged your panties down, exposing your cunt.

“Ushar can wait.”

His thick fingers gripped your thighs, guiding you to take a few steps back, until you were forced to sit on the bed, leaning back into a lying position.

“I- um- ohhh…”

You scrambled to move your dress fabric more as you tugged at his soft hair, a moan slipping out of you as Kylo sucked on your clit, his tongue swiping along every bit, every crevice of your lower regions. He growled against your cunt, the vibrations in his throat making your hips buck.

“You look so fucking pretty, your tummy getting full with our baby, don’t you?” He groaned against you, eliciting a sweet hum of confirmation from your lips. One of his hands slid north, pawing at your breast, the tenderness making you dizzy.

“A little dream, all for daddy?”

“Mhmm…” You whimpered again, gasping as he went down on you, savoring every bit of your cunt like it was his first meal since the mission. It probably was.

Ushar left his waiting post outside of the door the moment he heard your muffled whining and Kylo’s hips slapping against you. He decided to send Kylo a quick text instead, making his way to the cantina that was a short elevator ride down.

DATPD 08179:

Congratulations, Master.

We knew you could get it up.

Sent 17:36

-

The dress: https://skims.com/products/soft-lounge-long-slip-dress-heather-grey?variant=34535377404036&glCountry=US&glCurrency=USD&gclid=CjwKCAjwrZOXBhACEiwA0EoRD7a9iyzIX0-ZA9eRbgyADJqz4OLPMJglsAPYqERw6ZqVImp-MvGrqxoCeVUQAvD_BwE

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #adcu #kylo ren x you #ao3 #kylo x reader #adam driver fanfiction #adam driver #kylo ren fanfiction #star wars smut #kylo ren x y/n #ben solo #star wars fanfiction

[thestoryofusstan]

Allies or Enemies

pairing: harry styles x fay!reader

summary: amidst a fay hunt in your village, you fled to a different town far away. a human town. wanting to keep your identity a secret, you allow the townspeople to name you angelina. you're doing fine in the town until a mysterious man appears for unknown reasons. harry. and you don't trust him one bit.

warnings: cursing, violence, a religion similar to christianity gets bashed (not actual christianity though), magic (duh), angst, slowburn, some triggering topics such as abuse, murder, and sa.

—

“i know you’re a fay.”

there were a few ways she could go about this. she could lie and say she had no clue what he was talking about. she could ask him how she knew. or.. she could.. kill him. but she didn’t really want to do that. at least, she didn’t think so.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally replied.

“don’t lie to me, angel.”

him calling her angel felt like a taunt.

“you know i’m right.”

“no. you’re speaking nonsense,” she shook her head, turning around. “fays went extinct two hundred years ago, and any magic, especially fay magic, is banned. it’s a death sentence. why would you accuse me of that?”

“aven did once. i wonder why..”

“you have no clue what you’re talking about. shut up before you get me in trouble—“

“you’re scared, because you think i’m human,” he states.

she paused. what? “you are human.. and so am i.”

“no. you are fay. as am i.”

“you’re only saying that to get me to admit it—“

“so you’re saying there is something to admit?”

“no!”

he sighed, “if there is no other options.. i’ll prove it to you.”

he held out his hand and summoned a flame. her eyes widened before she covered his palm with her own, summoning water to put out his flame.

“are you insane? do you have a death wish, is that it?” she hissed.

“we’re both fays, you don’t have to be afraid of me—“

“shut up before we’re both slaughtered. don’t speak of this here.”

“then where?”

she paused, before sighing. “follow me.”

she led him to the flower shop, hushing him as he questioned her. she brought him upstairs, to her quarters, before locking the door and window, using a wave of her hand to put a protection spell over it.

then, she turned to him with a cold look in her eye, “explain.”

“explain what?”

“everything. you aren’t from my coven, i know that much.”

“i was.. sent here. to find you.”

“by whom?”

“that is none of your concern.”

“they want to find me, therefore i believe it is my concern.”

“one of the more powerful fays in my coven. i do not know why.”

“why did you threaten him?”

“who?”

she groaned, “alvaro! you threatened alvaro when he came to bring me a letter. why?”

“i.. thought he was a threat. i was trying to protect you.”

“i can protect myself on my own just fine. if he really was a threat, he would’ve been dead before you knew he was coming.”

“you seem sure of that,” he commented.

“my mother is.. the right hand man, if you will, of our coven. any threat to me is a threat to the whole coven.”

“so you’re fay royalty?”

“you act as if you don’t know how fays work. no. we don’t have royalty. we are all equal. my family is just more powerful, so we protect the coven. and they protect us.”

he didn’t respond, and it grew quiet.

she awkwardly cleared her throat.

“why did you come here?” he suddenly asked.

“what?”

“why are you here, with humans, and not your coven? isn’t this dangerous?”

she paused before she answered. “my village was discovered by the people. they came in the night to burn our homes down. we had to flee, but i was being followed more than others. so i ran off. and then, when i lost the humans, i realized i’d also gotten lost myself.”

“and the.. angelina thing?”

“the people hunting us wanted me specifically. i don’t know why. but they knew my name. so i figured using my name would make me easier to find.”

“i suppose that makes sense.”

she nodded.

“did alvaro really deliver your mother’s letter?”

“.. yes. she asked me to return home for solstice. i’ll leave in three weeks.”

harry hummed and said nothing else.

“what of you?”

“i’m sorry?” he turned to her.

“what of you? where do you come from?”

“up north. my coven stays there,” he answered vaguely.

she nodded, allowing him to be vague for the time being. “well, if that is all, you should see yourself out. i do have a shop to run, unlike some.”

he smirked at her, “and what, pray tell, is so important to do with the shop?”

“well, if you must know, i’m doing a wedding boquet. they’ve requested flowers i don’t grow myself, so i’m off to the forests to find some.”

she slipped her cloak on, readjusting the hood over her head to make sure it covered her enough.

“then i shall leave you to it.”

—

she wasn’t quite sure where she stood with harry, although he would give her a knowing smile anytime he saw her on the streets, and she’d return it. she felt uneasy about the vagueness on his explanation of where he came from, but she busied herself with preparing for her journey for solstice.

the closer her trip got, the more she realized she hadn’t seen harry for the better part of nearly two weeks. she had no clue where he was staying, so she wasn’t able to just show up and check on him, but he hadn’t been in the square for a concerning amount of time.

it was late, half past midnight, if she had to guess. she was in the flower shop with a candle lit so she could see what she was doing as she arranged a last minute boquet— a gift for her mother. suddenly, someone was pounding on her door.

her first instinct was to not answer. it could’ve been the hunters finally catching up to her. however, the more insistant it got, the more irritated she grew.

she picked up the lantern and walked over to the door, opening it.

“what is it that you must pound on my door at— harry?”

her eyes widened at the sight of him. long, curly hair all disheveled, shirt half-unbottened with a red stain on his left side.

“good gods, harry— what happened to you?”

“hunters,” he groaned. when he saw her tense, he breathed out, “a few villages over. they’re gone.”

she nodded with pursed lips, glancing out into the darkness behind him, before placing a hand on his shoulder and tugging him inside. “come, come inside. it isn’t safe outside, not at this hour. not for us.”

he allowed her to pull him inside, brows furrowing when he saw the tulips and hibiscus flowers.

“for my mother— solstice. come upstairs.”

she led him upstairs with a gentle hand, sitting him down in her bathroom. she set the lantern down, leaving momentarily to grab a few more so she could actually see.

“alright,” she sighed once the bathroom was well-lit. “off with your shirt, let me see it.”

“angelina, how scandalous!”

she glared at him, “do you want my help or not?”

the amusement in his eyes died as he unbuttoned the shirt and slipped it off. her nose wrinkled at the sight.

“what did they get you with?” she asked quietly, hand reaching out to ghost over it.

“iron sword.”

“must have laced it— it’s already infected,” she murmured as she stood and walked towards the cabinet. she opened it up to reveal a plethora of medicinal herbs, ones he could tell she’d gone out herself to collect and make. “i expect an explanation as to why you were ‘a few villages over’ if i’m going to be helping you.”

she was glad her hair was already pinned up in a bun, a few wispy, curly strands sticking out from the messy up-do she’d done when she got hot arranging the flowers. corsets were not made for her— she much preferred fae fashion— light dresses, all one layer, with fun colors. not the bland browns, grays, blacks, and neutral colors humans typically wore.

“i was running errands. had to pick up bread— ‘s better over there. not as.. stale. fresher. also felt cooped up here. small town and everyone talkin’ ‘bout everyone. wanted to explore.”

“people like us don’t get to just explore, harry,” she sighed as she wet a rag.

he gave her look, “i know. trust me, i know. but you cannot lie to me and say you haven’t wanted to leave here, as well.”

“of course i want to leave, harry. i’d go to my village again if i could. but i can’t. it is safer to stay where you are— as long as nobody knows, we are safe. we know there are no hunters nearby. it’s an unspoken rule.”

“i’ve never been good with rules.”

she had to grin at that. “lean back,” she gestured for him to do as she said, sitting down across from him. he leaned back, exposing the wound. he winced as she began blotting the cloth over it. “sorry,” she murmured every time he winced, made a face, or took in a sharp breath.

“you can stop apologizing. i am well aware this is my own fault and the effects of my own recklessness.”

her eyes flitted up to him, an unreadable look in them, “don’t say that.”

“weren’t you the one scolding me a few moments ago?”

“yes, but only because i care,” she rolled her eyes, ringing out the now blood-stained cloth to replace it with fresh water.

“the great angelina cares for me?” he teased.

“that’s not my name. and yes, i do.”

“i know it’s not your name, but you’ve given me nothing else to call you,” he rebutdtaled.

she didn’t respond, simply pursing her lips. she rested the cloth against the wound. “hold it there,” she instructed. “pressure is key.”

she grabbed a few healing herbs and mixed them together until they were a paste.

“move the cloth.”

when he did, she gently applied the paste to his side before handing him an unlabeled vial.

“take a small sip.”

he took the vial and eyed it cautiously, “what is this?”

“a healing flower. or.. the liquidized version of it. my coven uses it for births. numbs the pain and heals it from the inside.”

he nodded, taking a small sip, setting it on the counter when he was done.

there was a beat of silence where they just stared into each other’s eyes. it was only then that she realized they were too close to each other.

“don’t wash the paste off for at least twenty-four hours,” she told him. “it should heal itself from there.”

she cleared her throat and stood.

“i’d prefer if you stayed with me while it heals. i don’t trust you to not do anything else.”

he gave a small, thankful smile, “thank you, angelina.”

“i already told you, that’s not my name,” she snapped. “and i don’t like it when you call me that.”

“then what would you prefer i say?”

she sighed before speaking her real name to someone for the first time in nearly five years, “y/n. my name is y/n l/n.”

—

a/n: AAAAA SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

taglist: @boomitsallie1

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry #harry styles au #harry fic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #little fay series #fay!harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry edward styles #harry styles x you

[o-holynight]

Tight Quarters - Joel Miller x fem!Reader

title: Tight Quarters pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader summary: On your way out of the QZ on a mission, you and Joel need to hide from the patrolling officers, and quickly. Your best option? To hole up in a large metal pipe for the night. How ever will you pass the time until morning...? word count: ~3K rating: R (nothing too explicit just yet. this is my first post in like years.) content and warnings: fingering, hand-job, mentions of spit, claustrophobia?? (I tried to make it seem roomy), I think that’s all. let me know if there’s anything I missed. author’s note: HI I’VE RETURNED BY SHEER FORCE OF AN OLD FANDOM AWAKENING DEEP INSIDE ME. But really, I just have always had so much love for this game, and even more-so the amazing way they are telling the story through this series, so I am back and better than ever. Please let me know your thoughts, no matter how long or short. I’d love to discuss any and every detail with you! ♡

-~-~-~-~-~-

“Quick, into that pipe, think we can make it?” Joel rasped, low enough for you to hear from your crouched position, but not much above a whisper. 

You eyed the rusting building material, which certainly looked big enough for the two of you to squeeze into, yet unassuming enough to where the soldiers wouldn’t think twice to look into for fugitives. A split decision caused you to nod and slowly stand up from your spot behind an abandoned pickup truck’s large tire. Joel’s now-silent communication affirmed your plans, as he pointed to the pipe and gave you a hang back sign. He shuffled his way to the metal tube in record time as you could just barely hear the shouts of the QZ officers in the distance. A beam of light shone through the blank space between your truck’s tires as you froze, waiting for the lighthouse-like search beam to circle back in the opposite direction before you made a break to join Joel in your hiding spot. 

“Scoot.” you breathed, as you crawled into the pipe behind Joel, and removed your backpack to make more room.

“I am. Now shush.” he responded gruffly, taking his position, curled up with one knee on the floor of the tube, the other pressed into his chest as he crouched, listening for any sign of soldiers nearby. 

“Never seen ‘em out in droves like this. Must be slow in the QZ.” you whispered, laying back against the pipe’s walls, getting as comfortable as you could at your new post.

“Yeah…or busy on the outskirts.” Joel rebutted, ever the pessimist. “The fuckers probably won’t head back ‘til morning. They’ll just be standing around with their dicks in their hands, waiting to shoot anything that moves.” he rolled his eyes, finally lowering his gun for the first time in about an hour. 

You snorted a laugh, crossing your arms at the thought. “So what, we’re stuck in this hidey-hole until the sun comes up?” 

“Yes, unless you keep running your mouth, then surely they’ll kill us before the first bird opens its goddamn beak.” Joel breathed, holding a finger up to his lips as a punctuation to his threat. 

You just smirked and leaned your head back against the roughened metal, running your finger over the rusty surface about two feet in front of you. “How cozy.” you mouthed, feeling Joel’s eyes on you, ready to put you back in your place if need be. 

The two of you worked well together. Well, when you weren’t bickering. It was all out of love, to be sure. What started out as a mentor-mentee relationship quickly turned on its head when he realized you could keep up with the best of them. He became a lot more relaxed around you once he realized you’d keep him safe just as easily and readily as he’d keep you safe. Which you’d proved ten times over by now, at least. Ever since then you paired up quite often to take on cases in parts beyond the QZ boundaries. This time, you were making a run that would land you enough rations to last you at least two weeks; and that’s before you factor in your own allotment. So it was important to make it through the night alive.

After what seemed like an eternity but probably was only about half an hour, there were no more FEDRA voices to be heard, but the search light was still sweeping, illuminating your safe haven every other minute or so. If you were paying enough attention, you could probably use it to keep track of time, but you were more intrigued at the way Joel was still kneeling uncomfortably, crouched in an awkward position inside the tube. 

“C’mon. Take a breather. We’re good in here ‘til morning. You said it yourself.” you pleaded for Joel to take a seat and relax. Probably one of the only people in the QZ who could give an order to Joel without a gun to his head and have him actually take it. 

He in fact took a breath and grunted as he eased himself down onto the cold curved metal. “Guess we can sleep in shifts if you wanna catch a few hours.” Joel said in low tones, still not willing to speak up for fear of giving away your location. 

“Thanks but I’m not really tired. Just bored I guess. I’m not very good at being patient. And waiting for the sun to rise is like watching grass grow.” you said, tying one of your boots that had come loose during your trek. 

Joel chuckled, and you turned your head to see what he could possibly be laughing at. His hand rubbed at a patch of grass that had creeped its way into the large pipe the two of you were sitting in, as most things near the QZ boundaries have been overtaken by nature. “Looks like you might just get to do both.”

His fingers running softly through the grass made you smile, and wish that you could be laying in the grass with Joel under any circumstances other than hiding from law enforcement. Wishful thinking doesn’t get you very far, though sometimes you had dreams of a normal life with Joel. But then you woke up, and found yourself in his small stuffy apartment with unreliable electricity and Joel had already left for his shift where it was his turn to shovel the ashes of the recently deceased and disposed of.

You let your hand slowly brush against the grass between you, mirroring Joel, until you landed on his hand, grabbing onto his fingers, and lacing yours in between. His breath hitched, as he sighed quietly, finally relaxing, knowing you two were safe for the night. Joel turned his hand over in yours, and squeezed it tightly, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss against the back of your knuckles. You knew this was his way of saying what he couldn’t—or didn’t know how to. Thank you, for being here, for being competent, for being reliable, for being my— It was at that point you realized that you didn’t really know what you were to him either. He was just your…Joel. Did you spend most nights at his place rather than your own? Yes, but that’s only because he had a working bed frame and yours broke two months ago. Which Joel took full blame for, as he should. 

But what did that make you to him? A new roommate just as payment for a shitty bed that collapsed after years of sitting unused and one too many good nights of great thrusting? Or worse yet, a mere squatter that he was just housing as a favor—

“Hmm?” you were snapped from your spiral as Joel turned your head to face his, with an index finger resting against the length of your jaw.

“Where’d you go? What’s got you so occupied?” Joel asked, curious to know the meaning behind your silence and far-off gaze. 

“Just thinking about when you’re gonna build me a new bed frame.” you smirked, dropping your hand from his and scooting closer to him in the pipe. “You were in construction, right? What’s taken so long?”

“Listen I don’t got those kinda supplies right now. Maybe—maybe—if we can score some lumber from Bill, I can get you set up, but do you really want to lug all that shit back with us—“ 

You started laughing, covering your mouth to keep quiet, when Joel finally stopped and caught onto your scheme.

“Yeah…okay. You ever think that I just don’t want you to go back to your brand new hand crafted bed and leave me in my squeaky, creaky one?” Joel revealed, slinging his arm around your shoulders against the metal walls. 

“I knew it. You’re holding me prisoner for warmth on cold nights. You probably broke my bed on purpose, you son of a bitch.” you poked Joel’s side, knowing exactly where he was most ticklish. He jerked his arm back, curling away from you, but still holding his palm firm on your far shoulder. 

“I did not!” Joel whispered through a chuckle. “I’d never broken a bed before then, no matter how many times I’ve had the chance. That thing was probably on its last leg long before The Infection. I just gave it…one last hoorah.” he smirked, remembering the night that you both collapsed into a fit of uncharacteristic but much needed giggles when the wooden boards below your mattress snapped, bending your bed into a V shape, with the two of you at its lowest point. 

“Yeah. What a way to go out.” the words came out more wistfully than you had meant them to. But as soon as you said it, you noticed Joel’s hand drifting from your shoulder to the collar of your shirt, and dip below the fabric, his rough hands sweeping against your less rough skin. Especially when he reached down lower into the fabric of your tank top, where his fingertips just barely grazed your nipple. Your toes curled in your boots as you bit your lip, knowing this was not the time nor the place that you should be getting turned on by your—your Joel. But when you looked back up at him just as the beam of light passed over your pipe, you could see that Joel’s eyes were drowsy, and not from sleepiness, but rather equally with arousal. “Are you really trying to feel me up while we’re practically fugitives?” you breathed, arching your chest even more with the deep breath you took in. 

Joel just pursed his lips, as you knew the answer to your own question, though he punctuated it with a light squeeze, as he managed to get a full palm over your breast, pulling you in slightly closer. You let your knees fall towards him, and he pulled one over his own leg, hooking his free hand behind your thigh. “Gotta be so quiet though, you hear me?” he rasped, and you could tell his throat was tight with arousal just by the tone. 

You nodded hastily, leaning towards him, mouth falling open but not daring to make a sound. Joel leaned in too, his nose crushing against your cheek even before you felt his mouth on yours. His lips covered yours as if he didn’t trust you to stay quiet; he would drink all of your noises down like fresh water and not let a drop of sound escape. But you stayed silent, save for your hot breath against his cheek, ragged at this point, in anticipation. 

The hand that rested on your thigh moved upwards, towards the heat coming off of your jeans. Joel’s thumb searched the seam between your legs, pressing firmer and firmer, as though he had your body memorized—clothed or not. It was cramped in the tube, not enough room to shed any clothes. Even if there were, it’d be too risky. Hell, this was probably too risky. But your choices were calculated, and the pros far outweighed the cons in this moment. And Joel did have you memorized, because once he reached the spot where your clit would be, he dug his thumb down deeper, circling you there as his tongue circled your own. 

That’s when a single whimper escaped your throat and was transferred right into Joel’s mouth. He made no noise in response other than a swift exhale onto your cheekbone, pulling back after another second. “Shh, baby.” he said, almost condescendingly, as if you could have had zero reaction to the knowledge he was putting on display right now. 

As much as it impressed you, it was still a dull sensation compared to what you were used to from Joel, so you followed his forearm up in the darkness, and landed on the button and fly of your own jeans—taking the long way just to feel the tendons in his wrist moving to try and pleasure you. You popped open the button and tugged down your fly before grabbing Joel’s wrist and leading his hand down the front of your pants. He worked his hand down between the layers of denim and cotton, finally reaching your damp center, fully slick and ready for his fingers. 

You spread your legs a little further, giving him more room to do his thing, when your kneecap brushed against Joel’s own crotch, and that’s when he released his own stifled grunt. You smiled against his mouth, and muttered a “Shh, baby” back to him, as you reached your arms out, finding his big Texan belt buckle that you found so endearing yet incredibly gaudy in the daylight, but were so thankful for as a beacon of where your hands longed to be in the pitch black night. 

You tore open his buckle, and made quick work of his own fly, trying to stay angled perfectly for his hand whose fingers were beginning to slide in and out of you at an achingly slow pace. Joel used the hand that was not in your underwear to help push down his own, allowing you to free his cock and wrap your hand practicedly around it. You gave about two strokes before you pulled away from Joel’s mouth in the middle of a wet kiss, and let a mix of both of your salivas drip down into your hand, slicking it up so your pace could quicken on his shaft. 

This time, you could actually hear the groan that was stifled in Joel’s throat, manifesting itself as a much softer throat clear, and a hard swallow, before he dove back in at your neck, biting and kissing the skin that was most exposed to the world without a care. This meant you had to keep your own mouth shut, which was getting increasingly hard because Joel had added a second finger inside of you, and resumed his thumb-work on your clit, with no fabric barrier this time. 

Chasing after your orgasm was much harder than usual in such tight quarters and at such an angle, it was almost agony waiting for the snap of muscles inside of you to release against Joel’s hard-working hand. You wanted to whisper words of encouragement, to let him know how fucking good he was making you feel, but in place of verbal affirmation, you pulled at the base of Joel’s hair with your unoccupied hand, and tugged his head up to meet your gaze once again. Your foreheads touched, leaning against one another for stability, and he looked into your eyes, nodding slightly before his eyebrows knit together and pulled his eyes shut involuntarily. He was close, and you were determined to meet him there. 

You pulled your knees together and ground against Joel’s hand as he curved his fingers to scratch just the right itch inside of you that you were aiming for, and you fell apart in silent sobs. He never stopped stroking you through your orgasm, making it just that much more intense. You bit down on your lip, nearly turning your bottom lip blue in the process, and stilling your motions on Joel’s cock entirely. Once you regained an ounce of composure, the fire in you reignited your muscles and you added a second hand to Joel’s length, swiping your thumb across his leaking head, sure that this would send him over the edge. 

Sure enough, Joel’s hand left your jeans to brace himself on the ceiling of the tunnel you were squeezed into; one damp hand on the cool metal, the other gripping onto your thigh. His mouth fell open for a brief moment before he snapped it shut, swallowing a moan as he came, painting the wall of the pipe in front of you, rather than his usual go-to spot; your stomach. 

You held him as he twitched in your hand, super sensitive to any movement, sudden or drawn out. Finally, after a moment Joel took himself back into his own hand and tucked himself into his jeans once again, zipping up. The only sounds to be heard were the jingling of Joel’s belt buckle as he fastened it together again. 

You let your knees fall together against Joel’s thighs, as the two of you turned to look from each other’s eyes to the mess you created on the wall in front of you, snickering a bit in spite of yourselves. “At least that will dry. I’m fucking soaked down here.” you admitted, squirming beside him, whispering lowly into his ear. 

“Hmm, you talkin’ like that is gonna get me all riled up again if you don’t watch it.” Joel chuckled darkly, running the hand that was behind you through your hair at the nape of your neck. 

“Well, we’ve only got—“ you picked up the wrist that Joel wore a watch on, though the thing hadn’t worked since before the two of you met— “a bazillion hours left to kill. I wouldn’t mind a round two.”

“Now, now. I ain’t no spring chicken anymore. Gimme a minute, Jesus.” he breathed, chest heaving up and down dramatically. 

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you take first shift.” you yawned a quiet yawn, resting your head on Joel’s chest, taking note of how fast his heart was beating after all of this. “I need my beauty sleep.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #tlou #the last of us game #the last of us show #the last of us HBO #tlou hbo #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller

[nkn0va]

Chef anon here. I had this idea Izanami having a kid with her s/o. Probably by accident. But imagine how it would flip her whole worldview. Like she's supposed to be the god of death but here she is literally creating life.

This is quite the unexpected meal you've cooked up, chef, quite strange indeed. I actually had a ton of fun writing this surprisingly, I don't know how but it was. Keep cookin' like this, this got me over my writer's block like a charm.

-For this to happen you're definitely gonna need to be a guy. No offense to any ladies out there (are you even out there reading my work?), but accidental pregnancies typically do not happen in Yuri.

-This was something that really should not have happened. It did happen though when Izanami was feeling rather frisky on one particular night. Those less than pure urges finally started to surface once you started dating her which certainly took her by surprise. It was an...interesting night to say the least.

-What was even stranger however was the next couple of weeks after that. She started experiencing strange symptoms of...something. Her suspicions were only confirmed when she sensed life inside of her, something that didn't normally happen. This only meant one thing...

-Izanami hadn't bothered with protection that night. She believed that being a living Drive and the embodiment of death itself meant that this was physically impossible. Yet somehow it was possible.

-She had zero idea how to go about this. Granted she wouldn't have much trouble hiding this, she almost never made public appearances as the Imperator anyway, but this completely went against her very nature and her goal.

-When you found out about this however, you were quite happy, much to her surprise, especially if you know about her goal to destroy the Master Unit and end the world.

-The child is born away from the public eye. The only help is nurses personally selected by Izanami herself and they're under very strict orders to not tell anyone of this. This is probably the first time she actually feels pain. It's not what she was expecting, in a rather intriguing way.

-Due to being a Drive, it only takes her but a few hours to recover once she tells the nurses they can go and she's back at it like nothing ever happened. She heads back to her quarters to see you there caring for the baby as it's asleep, admiring and treasuring it. You greet Izanami with a smile and immediately start listing off possible names you were thinking of.

-For the first time in her existence, she doesn't really know what to do. This isn't meant to be her purpose, yet upon seeing how ecstatic you were at having a little one in your life, she eventually decided that it was at the very least worth a shot. She already gave you a chance after all, even if she still planned to carry out her mission.

-However as time goes on, she actually comes to genuinely care for this child she's given life to, even if by accident. She'd heard stories of parenthood changing people in unexpected ways, but she never expected said ways to be so drastic, let alone to even happen to her in the first place.

-She's expectedly pretty clueless on how to care for a child at first, she needs you around to show her the ropes so that she doesn't accidentally kill it. The fact that this is a genuine worry only gives her even more of an existential crisis.

-She's more torn than she ever has been in her life. Her goal was to always bring an end to this pointless looping world that the Origin had let go on for far too long. She'd always reasoned that this goal was justified because of this phenomenon making all of existence completely meaningless. But with both you and her own child in the picture now...

-...Now she's not so sure.

#blazblue #headcanon #relationship headcanons #hades izanami #x reader #anon ask #answered #blazblue x reader

[084392]

i never post my own writing bc im not confident in it at all. but i wrote a short unpolished fic ig?? about mismagius and dialga after the future is fixed...under the read more👉👈

---------

It’s been around a week and a half since the flow of time in the future had been fixed. Or at least, that's what Mismagius thinks. Been awhile since she’s had to think about time moving properly. 

But none of that matters right now.

Mast- Prima- DIALGA, as he has told her to call him now. Has asked her to come to his quarters. Not quite an order but of course she’s going to.

It’s still a bit odd to walk through the pristine halls of the new- or old? Temporal Tower. Mismagius tries not to think about all that. Whether this is the tower from when she was a dratini, or the same tower she’s been in this whole time? It doesn’t matter...

She arrives. 

The newfound brightness of the area and seeing Dialga in such clarity is still a bit off putting to her.

“Mas- Dialga, I have come, as you ordered.” Mismagius announces.

Dialga looks at her. With that slightly pitying look in his eye. The one he’s had every time he’s had to interact with her since time has been….fixed. She tries her best to ignore it.

“DON’T THINK OF IT AS AN ORDER, MISMAGIUS.” she cringes a little at the loud words.

“My apologies, Dialga.”

He sighs, and quickly moves on. “DO YOU KNOW WHY I CALLED YOU HERE?”

“You had a new mission for me?” She looks at him, less questioning, more…hopeful.

“...YES, I DO.” 

Dialga turns away, as Mismagius eagerly leans in.

“I WANT YOU…TO FIND YOUR OWN WAY.”

Not able to reign in her confusion at that, “What?” 

The first time Mismagius has ever questioned an order straight from Dialga.

“MISMAGIUS, I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY.” Dialga says plainly. That same pitying look on his face as he turns to face her.

But she doesn’t want his pity.

This isn’t the same Dialga she’s been serving dutifully for over a hundred years. The same master that told her to hurt, to torture, to kill. Mismagius knew that...

But this just cemented it.

“AND…THINK OF THAT AS MY FINAL ORDER, IF YOU HAVE TO.”

She narrows her eyes at that, and curtly leaves without another word.

He should really go back to the mindless growling.

#dusknoir's shitty coworkers #SORRYYYYY LIKE I SAID. IM NOT CONFIDENT IN MY WRITING AND THIS ISNT. REALLY POLISHED OR GOOD AT ALLLL... #and idk. theres also a lot of details that i left out too bc i didnt want this to get too long and......oughhhh. >.<

[disillusionedjudge]

A Reason For Everything | closed reply

@tarnishedxknight - continued from here

Practically being dropped into an unfamiliar time was something Gylfie had not been pleased with, although she was tempered for the reason for such... disruption. After all, back in Archadia, she had...

No one.

Drace was dead, and Gabranth was presumed as much. She had killed her own father, could no longer try and reunite with her mother and sister, and even Cael had just vanished. She was trapped following Vayne's every order as he became increasingly unstable - doing everything she could to keep Larsa safe in the stead of Drace and Gabranth. Zargabaath had, fortunately, become an unexpected ally in such a time, forced in the same position as she, even if he realized too late the danger of Vayne in power. But now... all she could do was pray that he had been able to protect Larsa when she had not.

Here, at least, she was finally free from Vayne. Here, at least, she had her loved ones again, and she could keep better watch over them. At least, as much as her new titleless and jobless position allowed her, but... it was enough, at least, to curb her initial fury. It was good to see Cael again - or Caelen, really - even though he had both Ashelia and Basch. And it was certainly good to have Drace and Gabranth with her again, even if... if...

Gabranth had been a worry of hers, as she knew his temper and instability, but being there with Drace seemed to have helped him. Now, however, her concern was Drace. She seemed... volatile - far more than before - and out of sorts. It would have been simple enough to dismiss it as her adjusting to such a drastic change, but... it had been a few weeks, and she still seemed off. Gylfie did well to keep a close eye on her without hovering, and was rather content watching from the sidelines as Drace and Gabranth sparred - taking silent note as she studied Drace. As she watched her make mistake after mistake, and watched as Gabranth began to best her, over and over again. Gylfie's itch to for a good spar was well smothered by her concern, which only grew as a medical technician interrupted and pulled Drace aside. What was wrong with her? Her stomach twisted, but she made no movement to get closer - knowing better than to invade a private conversation, let alone Drace's.

Instead, she moved to stand next to Gabranth with a stretch. Careful to keep her own worries masked to avoid adding to his. "Watch that one," she joked. "She'll kick your ass next round, you know. She's done that with me before." A partial truth, a partial lie. All the same, really, though Gylfie wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or herself of Drace's wellbeing. "However, if you two are quite done flirting, I would--"

She didn't finish - her attention snapping back to her beloved mentor as she just... left. Without a word, without acknowledging them. And that was enough for Gylfie to refuse to stay quiet on it much longer.

"I have her," she said quickly to Gabranth, and hurried after Drace. Her heart in her throat as she did her best to quell her racing thoughts. What could she have been told that made her leave so sudden? That made her not even want to speak to her? To Gabranth? Please be okay, she prayed. Please let me in.

Gylfie slowed as she reached Drace's quarters and, with a deep breath to steady herself, she knocked. Loud enough to be heard, but... gentle, in a way, to keep from startling her. "Drace?" she called. "'Tis only me. Mind if I come in?" Of course, if she was refused entry, she would leave, but... oh, gods, above, she hoped Drace would allow her in. She wasn't sure how long she could wait until she tried again, and certainly wasn't sure what she would tell Gabranth.

#tarnishedxknight #auv; but i stand here waiting the last to fall #((awww I like that idea!! #I think Gylfie could forgive them for that haha)) #death mention tw

[pricetaglover]

a Fanny and price tag small fic request

Ask and you shall receive! IM SORRY THIS TOOK A LONG TIME TO COME OUT!! School n stuff can go to hell. //

Summary: Price Tag and Fanny go fishing for mouths.

The recent streaks of poor luck and performance had left Just Not at a severe disadvantage. In a few weeks, they will be down to just three members. And so out of impulse, or whatever mysterious force drives her, Pillow announced a meeting between Death P.A.C.T Again & Just Not. It was a weird meeting - especially the start - but after an hour of suggestions and words a new alliance found itself born anew.

Terms were simple: teams will offer their assistance to one another, and Pillow would have to stop killing people. Pillow had reluctantly accepted the new PACT, though everyone doubted it would stop her from harming others. But this was enough.

But the alliance wasn’t fully formed yet, the first task to fulfill was to help Death P.A.C.T cut Tree from the canal. And so they got to work. Many hours of cutting and “Pillow, please don’t blow up Bomby”s later and Tree was finally free, leaving a giant stump in his place. Tree was recovered, and the Just P.A.C.T Alliance finally came to be.

It was sunset, and everyone was exhausted - everyone but Price Tag. Taggy was ecstatic. Sure, maybe a little worn down but happy nonetheless. A morning of negotiations, exchanges and analytical thinking had left them in high spirits for the entire day. Them and Book did a spectacular job convincing the others of their team’s value. Things were looking up!

Well, things, excluding Fanny. Price Tag caught her sitting by the beach alone, staring hard into the area where Tree was once stuck in.

Unlike everyone else in her team Fanny hadn’t said anything at all. Nods, blinks, glares, but not a single peep. It was obvious why - the missing mouth said everything. Price Tag was sure Fanny didn’t feel great about it.

They stared hard for a while. Taggy had enough for a fishing rod, paddle, and a board they could use as a little boat, they thought. Finding a mouth in a giant canal using a fishing rod was far from easy, but it was worth the try, right?

But at the same time, how did Fanny feel about all of this? What did Fanny think of the alliance? Did she hate it? Like it? Want something? Does she even want help getting her mouth back?

Maybe it didn’t matter all that much but to Price Tag, when it comes to an alliance, everyone’s voice was made of money. Leaving one out felt wrong.

And after becoming friends with Book they felt more…confident. Even if Fanny didn’t accept the offer, at least they tried. Right?

So, Price Tag made a decision. They swallowed their worries and hopped over to her.

“Hey, hey, Fanny!” They called out.

Her attention quickly shifts from the stump to Taggy.

“Juust checkin’ out on ya…long day, huh?”

“...” Says Fanny with a bombastic side-eye.

“Ha ha. Yeah.” Immediately they shake off the awkwardness before continuing. “So I’ve heard you’ve been a little quiet lately and - if you have the time and energy - I could help you out?”

Fanny blinks. Her expression remained the same.

“This idea may seem not worth it but just hear me out. So, I got this little boat and enough to nab a fishing rod. We could sail out around the canal and try to fish your mouth out.”

She turns away, looking back at the stump.

A pang of despondency hit Taggy, but they still continued regardless. “We’d probably have better odds finding a nickel in a heap of quarters, but I thought I’d throw my coin into the hat anyways. There’s better ideas if this one doesn’t sound appealing - we could rummage around the warehouse and see if we find one. Or we could ask Yellowfa…uh…”

Fanny had gotten up and began to walk towards Price Tag. They blinked, confused as she stopped in front of them. She looked past Taggy before looking back at them.

“Uh…I don’t think I…”

Fanny does the same gesture, but far more aggressively.

“Oh! You’re on board?”

She nods.

Taggy jumps up. “Cha-ching! Yeah!” They turn around, starting to walk the other way. “Let’s get started. Early bird catches the mouth!”

Fanny silently follows behind. This was going to be great!

…

…

…

Price Tag was fast asleep. Fanny on the other hand was wide awake and stared at the fishing line. It was suspended deep into the canal and she could see where it faded off. She sighs. Or at least, she tried to.

All of a sudden the line begins to shake. Fanny kicks Taggy who in turn jerks awake and grabs the fishing rod with their legs, reeling it quickly in a sleepy panic. “I got it, I got it!”

Fanny hadn’t gotten up though. They just watched the line in disappointment as the hook came up, revealing a piece of paper on the other end. Again. Price Tag frowned, throwing the paper to the pile behind them, setting up the fishing line, and sitting back down. Again.

The small board the two sat on rowed gently against the water. This combined with the soft, cold winds provided a soothing experience perfect for naps. Fanny, however, was too full of hatred to sleep.

No, not towards Taggy. At least not that much. Price Tag might be doing this purely for their own gain - for an alliance that probably won’t even make it to a challenge - which she hated the possibility of, but they were still helping her. No matter the reason Fanny still wanted her mouth back.

She hated how hopeless this was. They were here for hours, if the moon were still in the sky it would've been at its highest. A massive pile made of pieces of wood, strange red rocks, and paper alongside many other things sat behind them. But there was no mouth.

This was all a waste of time! I hate wasting time! Especially on pointless things like this!

Price Tag seemed to have caught on. At this point they too were exhausted, having to constantly stop their body from falling over as they drifted off. They stared into the line hopelessly. Fanny hated that.

“Well…it’s midnight and not a single mouth in sight.” They yawned. “Who would’ve expected that. Ha ha...”

Of course, Fanny didn’t respond.

“Look I…I’m sorry. I…I think our odds at finding your mouth are a little closer to zero than I initially thought.”

About time. Fanny thought, turning their head to face Price Tag who still looked down.

“But hey, tonight wasn’t entirely useless. We found a ton of rubellite shards and other valuable junk we can sell for top dollar," They look at Fanny. “And look, maybe we’ll get enough money to buy you a new mouth. What do you think?”

Price Tag was at their limit, and to an extension so was Fanny. She nods her head in understanding and turns to face the shore.

Suddenly her brows furrowed. Having no mouth makes things a thousand times more frustrating.There were so many things she wanted to say but couldn’t. She wasn’t mad at Black Hole or the P.A.C.T anymore but all that anger just shifted towards something else. She still hated her situation.

She quickly stands up. Fanny raises her head towards the sky and tries to yell as loudly as possible. Nothing came out, though. Taggy just sat down and stared into the water, an unreadable expression worn on their face. Probably sadness. Fanny tries to yell even louder.

Eventually Fanny stopped and sat back down. She looked at Price Tag who was now in shock, eyes now big, wide O’s. She raises a brow, looking to where they were staring before looking back at them. She gives them a kick, and it was only a few seconds after when Price Tag gave a response.

“Fanny, could you try yelling again?”

She rolled her eyes. Rising to her feet, Fanny looks up to the sky and attempts another yell. Nothing.

“Again! Keep yelling.”

This again? I hate yelling without a mouth! But she still obeyed. Fanny looked down to where Price Tag was, already having sent down the fishing line. This happened a bunch of times over the many hours the two sat here. For some reason though, this time felt different.

Yet again all those other times also “felt different”. Fanny hated the decept-

“I caught something, I caught something!” Taggy announced. Immediately she jumped up, mind starting to race.

Fanny knew it was bound to be something dumb. Mouths usually don’t violently swim round and round when caught by a fishing line, but the bubbling was so convincing. I hate not being able to not be excited..!

A minute passed but the struggle didn’t. “I got it..!” Taggy beamed. “I think…I…I really…” Fanny watched in shared glee, eyes widening. Was this it? Was this really it? Did they really…

Price Tag reels in a blue fish.

Like two deflated balloons, both plopped right back down, Taggy dropping the fishing rod with the fish onto the pile. In an instant, yells switch to silence and beams change into tired frowns.

At this point, even Fanny was too exhausted to get mad. Didn’t stop her from hating, though.

“Sorry, Fanny.” Price Tag says dejectedly. Genuine sorrow and disappointment plagued their voice.

She looked their way again. If the two had left earlier without worrying about that sound, leaving would’ve hurt a lot less. Not being able to speak up about it hurt even more.

Fanny wanted to tell them off, say whatever was on her mind, but she couldn't. So as she watched Price Tag grab the paddle she nodded in acknowledgement. “Thanks, Price Tag.”

“...”

“...”

“Oh my gosh.” Fanny said, her voice muffled.

The two looked at each other, then the fish on the pile, which was exactly where the sound came from. Fanny was sure of it.

“Your…”

“Oh my gosh.”

“Your mouth…”

A second passes.

They lunged towards the fish, knocking a little bit of the pile back into the canal. Taggy held onto the tail while Fanny pulled on the line with all her might. “I hate having my mouth suck in a fish! Give me my mouth back!!”

The fish gave in and the mouth was finally released from its own. Then it flew up into the air before falling back into the water with a loud splash. Good riddance!

“My mouth! Price Tag! We found it!”

“I can’t believe it! I thought it was over.” Taggy laughs for a second before falling to the floor. They yawn loudly.

Fanny blinks at them. “Price Tag..?”

In return, Taggy looks at her with a tired expression, blinking constantly. “Yup. I think that’s it for me tonight.”

“But we need to get to shore!”

They use their legs to lazily shuffle the paddle to Fanny. “This machine's all out of quarters, sorry….” another yawn. “...But I’m sure you got it.”

She prepared herself to complain to Price Tag, she missed doing it after all, but they were already soring away. Fanny also wanted to flop down and sleep, but her desire to never see the canal again was even stronger. She hated it!

So, she grabs the paddles and rows to shore. Maybe this whole alliance thing wasn’t so bad after all.

#tpot #price tag tpot #fanny tpot #fanfic #bfdi #fic request #rereading this I realize the formatting was screwed up #oh well

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What am I?

Raga struggles and Davarax notices.

-

Davarax sighs as he leaves the forge and their leader behind, and sets course for his quarters. He's exhausted from the mission and he just wants to get cleaned up before sleeping for two weeks. (He'll probably be sent out again long before that.) His neck and shoulders are killing him and the bruise left behind from the fight with that falleen is aching like it is getting paid to do so.

On his way there, sounds catch his attention and Davarax finds himself diverted from his original plan. He easily recognizes Din and Paz' voices. It's been two weeks since he saw his kids last and he can't resist the urge to at least steal a peek to make sure they're doing okay. (Din's temper has been getting worse lately and Dez has been doing his best to drive Paz into an early set of grey hairs.)

To his relief, he finds the two boys either training or half-heartedly fighting each other in the arena, it's difficult to tell the difference when those two go at it some times. After a quick scan tells him they both look healthy, Davarax turns to leave them to their business, he'll talk to them later when his brain is actually functional after some sleep, but he pauses when he sees the boys are not alone.

On the balcony above the arena, Raga is sitting on a bench half-hidden by the shadows, but while her gaze is aimed at the boys below there is no mistaking how she's not really watching them. Her mind is elsewhere. Davarax frowns as the tight tension on her face tells him that wherever her thoughts are, it is not some place nice.

Dank farrik.

Forgetting about sleep for the moment, this is far more important, Davarax makes his way up and over to her, silent enough so not to alert the bickering boys of his presence but loud enough so she'll hear him approach. She doesn't look over at him though, not even when he's standing right next to her.

Definitely not good.

“Hey.” Davarax says.

“You're back.” Raga states the obvious in a flat tone.

“Yep.” Davarax replies, continuing to scan her face. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect.”

Davarax' frown deepens. In the background there is a thump and a yell as either Paz or Din makes bodily contact with the floor. “What's wrong? Talk to me.”

Raga clenches her jaw. She's only ten years old, but her rage rivals some of the fiercest fighters Davarax has had the pleasure of fighting alongside. “I'm suspended again.” She says.

Closing his eyes for a moment, needing to control his own anger, Davarax only looks at her when he can at least sound calm. “Mitmine giving you trouble again?” For a teacher, that man has remarkably little patience. He's always disliked Raga, believing every whisper from every idiot who heard some unfounded rumour from someone unamed, and he keeps blaming her for anything and everything he can think of. And he's clearly done it again. Idiot. “I'll deal with him.”

“Don't bother.” Raga mutters. “It's dealt with.”

That has Davarax frowning again. “What?” He refuses to believe her parents have done anything, they tend to shrug off any and all complaints regarding their children, and there is no way Raga would have told Dez anything. “How?”

Raga's glare finally shifts to stare at him. “I punched him in the junk.”

Davarax blinks. “Oh.” Okay, well, not ideal, but the man has been pestering that girl for almost two years and, in Davarax' opinion, had pain coming. Raga might be small and skinny, but over the years she's been gaining strength and skills and should not be underestimated. That being said, he still feels she shouldn't have to fight her battles alone. “I'll have a word with him anyway.”

Raga stands up, an abrupt move that causes Davarax to flinch just the tiniest bit with the instinctive urge to either back up or discretely fold his hands in front of himself to protect his own junk, but her self-control has improved immensely over the years since she came into his care and so he stands his ground.

“I told you; don't bother.” Raga is definitely angry. With him as well as Mitmine. “We both know I'm not worth it. You're just training me because Paz made you say yes. I'm not like the others.”

“Like who?” Davarax is more than a little surprised by her words, but he needs to make sure he understands before he tackles the problem. Not worth it? Not like them? This sounds like Mitmine.

“Like Paz. Din. Barthor.” Raga snaps their names with no small amount of anger but also with a hurt that cuts at Davarax' heart. “They're important to you. I'm just the one no one wants.”

“Raga, that's-”

“It's true!” Raga snaps, her voice shaking just a little. She reclaims her anger. “Paz is the one you love to coddle and you keep worrying about because of old man Vizla. Barthor is a karking genius and you love to feed his brain while making him feel normal despite being more clever than the rest of us put together. Din... Din is your favourite. He's always been your favourite.” Raga smacks her hand against her chest. “Me? I'm nothing.”

“That's not true.” Davarax grits out, struggling to sound calm and not as devastated as he feels. Oh, Raga... These days, she's so brave and quiet that it is easy to forget she can be hurting too.

“Then what am I?” Raga demands to know. Her wild hair half-covering her face and the dim light make it difficult to be sure, but it looks like there might be tears in her eyes.

“Listen, I don't have favourites.” Davarax declares. (It is a bit of a lie. He's had many students, but none who he has grown so attached to as these four.) “I love to coddle all of you because you are all precious to me. And believe me when I tell you that the four of you, all four, are brilliantly smart. A teacher's dream.”

Yeah, there are definitely tears in her eyes now, but Raga isn't entirely convinced. She wants to believe him, he can tell, but Mitmine's words must have burned deep. Curse that guy.

“As for what you are...” Davarax continues, reaching out and placing his hand on Raga's bony shoulder, knowing no other soul would have dared to do so after her teeth has left lasting scars on more than one soul in the Covert. “You are the one who has done most progress of all four over the years. You're the one who works the hardest, aims the highest and fears the least. You refuse to be a slave to your anger and you've come so far. I believe that when the time comes when I'm too old and useless to keep them safe, you're the one who will keep the other three safe and together. I know I can trust you to look after them in the future. What are you, Raga?” Davarax tells her the truth. “You're my hope.”

There is a moment of stunned silence, then Raga shuts her eyes tight and dives forwards, wrapping her arms around his torso and hiding her face against his armour.

Davarax runs his hand gently over her wild hair and makes a silent vow to make sure she never doubts herself again. “I'll deal with Mitmine. He won't treat you like that again. Ever. I promise.”

“Punch him in the junk.” Raga mutters against his armour.

Fighting against an amused smile, Davarax nods. “I might just do that.” He has already warned the guy twice to lay off Raga, words are clearly not seeping through his thick skull, maybe a Saxon approach is the way to go to make him understand? And if not, Davarax suspects it is going to be incredibly satisfying to cause the guy some severe amount of pain anyway for causing Raga such distress. No one hurts his kids and gets away with it.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Raga Saxon #Davarax #the one-shots start coming and they don't stop coming

[catdotjpeg]

My family home was supposed to be in the safe zone in southern Gaza. But last week the bombs came anyway, without warning. They fell at around 10 o’clock on Thursday morning in four or five big explosions. An entire residential quarter of the Khan Yunis refugee camp, where I was born and raised, was reduced to rubble. Everyone there experienced it as an earthquake; a human-made earthquake. The whole camp was shaking.

I’ve counted 49 dead – among them are 36 members of my family. Another dozen or more are still missing under the rubble of eight homes, I’m told, and more than 100 are injured.

I now reside in Canada but my family home still stands in that same Khan Yunis camp, metres away from where the bombs fell, and it is where much of my extended family still live. This home is all we have left from our late parents and grandparents after they were driven out of Beit Daras village and into the Gaza Strip during the 1948 Nakba – the mass expulsion of Palestinians. Thousands of people were forced to leave our village back then and many made their way to Khan Yunis. Initially intended as a temporary stop until they could return to their homes, families from Beit Daras preferred to live in close proximity to one another. Over time, this temporary arrangement evolved into an enduring one.

These homes were packed with additional people who had fled from the Israeli bombardment of Gaza City when the bombs started to fall – one family to each room. I want to tell you about some of the lives cut short.

Two-year-old Julia Abu Hussein, my sister’s granddaughter, was in the living room of my family home eagerly awaiting the arrival of my niece, Rasha, to take her to the shop to buy sweets. When the first bombs fell, Julia’s mother, Rawan, grabbed her daughter and ran into the kitchen with the rest of the family. But a piece of shrapnel blasted into the kitchen and killed Julia in her mother’s arms.

Just two weeks ago, Julia’s parents – my nephew Amjad and his wife, Rawan –followed the Israeli military’s orders to get out of Gaza City, leaving their home and moving south in search of safety. Together with my sister’s family, it took them three days to travel less than 20 miles to Khan Yunis – for three days we believed they were dead. It’s 2023 but it’s like we woke up to 1948. People running again in search for safety. When they arrived in the “safe zone” they realised that no place in the Gaza Strip was actually safe.

My 79-year-old great-uncle, Nayif Abu Shammala, a retired teacher, and his wife, Fathiya, were among the survivors of the Nakba. They lived right across from us and died there under the bombs. Their three daughters and four sons were killed, too.

When she was young, one of them, Aisha, was known as the cutest face in the camp. She was one of those people who radiated happiness. Her sister Dawlat had been living in the UAE and was on a visit home to see her family when the bombs fell. She leaves behind two children and a husband who did not even get the chance to bid her a final farewell. The youngest of the sisters, Umaima, and her daughter Malak had also fled the bombardment in the north. But the bombs caught up with them anyway.

Nayif and Fathiya’s sons – Zuhair, Hassan, Mahmoud and Mohammed – all died alongside their wives. The lives of Hassan’s three children were sacrificed to the bombs as well. These children are not distant strangers; they were beautiful souls I knew well. Children whose character-filled faces I can still see. Children who told me of their dreams for the lives ahead of them. All now ground into the dust.

Why did Israel kill them? The family has no political affiliations. Nothing can justify this heinous crime of killing three generations unless being Palestinian is the crime.

My great-aunt, Um Said, lived a long life, at least. She was 92 and was at home with her daughter, Najat, when the bombs fell. They both now find their resting place under the rubble.

Last summer while I visited Gaza, Um Said kindly gave me an embroidered dress that she once wore. She insisted that I take it back to Canada with me. I am grateful that I did. It’s all that I have left to remember her by.

I am struggling to find new ways of describing death – gone, taken, dead, under the rubble, their souls in heaven. The Israeli propaganda machine tells me that they aren’t dead at all because Palestinians must be lying about the numbers of deaths even as we mourn. Or, if they are indeed dead, then they must be “terrorists”.

In truth, the list of dead innocents is so long and so painful. So many children. So many who led good lives. Um Said’s daughter-in-law, Suhaila, was a teacher. So was Imtiyaz, the wife of Asa’ad, my first cousin once removed, who ran a small grocery shop that was a favourite place for my own son, Aziz, to visit when we returned to our homeland.

Asa’ad was known throughout the Khan Yunis camp as a gentle soul who sold goods for little money. He kept a thick ledger of the names of people who owed him payment but often forgot to call in his debts or he simply wrote them off. His beaming face, his shop, his kindness and his family were all stolen from us in broad daylight. When the bombs fell, Asa’ad’s shop was packed. I counted at least six children who died there. Asa’ad’s sons, Hussein and Abdelrahman, a third year medical student, were among the dead.

I want to ask President Biden why he supports this. Does he believe that the pain of an Israeli mother is different from that of a Palestinian mother? Is her blood more valuable than the blood of those in Gaza? This is the only explanation that I can find for what Biden is encouraging in Gaza.

Surviving family members send me pictures from Khan Yunis. Of Julia’s bloody body wrapped in a white sheet and carried by my cousin Jameel. Of destroyed homes. This is just one small slice of the suffering being served up in Gaza. I understand that in a war civilians die. But this is a pattern. Israel talks of Hamas-run schools and Hamas-run hospitals to continue the dehumanisation of Palestinians and to set the stage for more crimes. It’s just an excuse to kill more civilians. This is targeting the very existence of the Palestinians. To me, this is genocide.

-- "From my hometown in Gaza, the unthinkable news: 36 of my family members are dead" by Ghada Ageel for The Guardian, 1 Nov 2023

Ghada Ageel is a third-generation Palestinian refugee who worked as a translator for the Guardian in Gaza from 2000 to 2006.

You can read more about the human lives lost in Palestine on the Martyrs of Gaza Twitter account and on my blog.

#palestine #martyrs of palestine

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

(we're doing fluff. A short one. Just a lil guy. Guilliman and reader talk about their fears and traumas. TW suicide contemplation)

You became aware of everything in waves.

First, there was light, low and amber. Then soreness between your legs like nothing else, which had become standard over the past week. Then warmth, and weight. His body, curled around yours, clutching you unconsciously to his chest.

Roboute was still asleep. He required so little to function, but you were glad he indulged. It was the only time you saw the perpetual crinkle between his eyebrows soften. True calm was fleeting for your husband.

Your husband.

That was still thrilling to think about. The whole affair had progressed so quickly, you were adjusting.

He gripped you tighter, murmuring in his sleep. He seemed agitated. You wriggled out of his grasp and sat at his side.

Roboute was no stranger to nightmares. He would tremble, speak a few words, even thrash, then jolt awake. He would urge you to return to sleep, then, usually, would rise before you in the morning. You didn't ask what he dreamt of. You had read enough of the records of the Heresy to guess.

But this seemed different. You gave him space. As much as you wanted to wrap your arms around him, his strength was a hundredfold yours.

"Rob?" You asked.

He twitched. His expression pained. You thought you heard him muttering 'no.'

So suddenly as to startle you of the edge of the bed, he shot up, screaming your name. His eyes were wide and, you'd never seen it before, frightened.

He gathered his bearings, and began to frantically search for you. "Love? Love where are you?"

You crawled back up from where you landed. "Here."

Roboute scooped you up, buried his face on your neck, and began rocking back and forth. "You're safe. You're right here." He was talking to himself more than you.

"Rob, what on Terra were you dreaming about?"

He shushed you, laying you both down to face one another. He intertwined your fingers as conflict crossed his features.

"You can tell me, Roboute. Please. Please trust me. At least with this."

He sighed. "Are you certain? I see no need to trouble you with this, go back to slee-"

"Tell me." You insisted. "You keep so many secrets from me. Not this. Not in our bed."

A long moment passed. Then he relented. He spoke very softly. "I... I saw you. Sitting in a meadow, on Macragge. It was summertime. You were holding a child in your arms. Our child. You were beaming it at me, beckoning at me to join you. Then it... I. I don't know how to say it."

"Take your time."

"Fulgrim. He... It was like before the Heresy, at first. He was congratulating me on the birth of the child and then, I was bleeding out again."

You reached out to caress the scar on his neck. The wound that had nearly killed him.

"I fell to knees, I couldn't move, couldn't even tell you to run. And he simply... Murdered you both. Took his time like it was a game. He turned to me with... With your heart in his hand and I woke."

"Fuck, Roboute." You snuggled into his chest.

"I'm just... Happy you're here. And safe."

You lay in his arms for time. "I have them too. Nightmares."

He looked down at you, inquisitive.

"When I left my homeworld, after my mother died, I had to take a ship to reach the University. The journey went normally for a time, but I woke up and alarms were blaring, and I could hear ramming against the hull. I'll never forget... The officer who came up to me in my quarters. He handed me a pistol. And he told me, "It's raiders, Drukhari. You have 12 shots left, save one for yourself. It's better to go young to the arms of the Emperor than to let them take you alive." Then he left. I waited for hours in the dark under my bed after the power went out, waiting to die. I could hear fighting, on the higher decks. I felt like a coward but what was going to do? Then it was just silence. There was no sound for days. Finally I was hungry and thirsty enough to creep outside."

"There was only the barest bones of a crew left. The raiding party was small, they didn't even bother to scour the whole ship. They just took as many as they could and... Left. Out of 3,000 passengers, 152 we're left. Our navigator was still alive, by some miracle, and we limped into port. I dream about it. Less often now but... I still think I'm under that bed again, sometimes."

"How old were you?"

"14."

"...Never again."

"What?"

"You will never be afraid like that again. I swore to protect you. Anything, xenos, human, that has even the ghost of a thought of harming you answers to me. I won't be merciful."

His grip on your hands tightened. He was looking past you, almost hatefully.

"Am I in danger, Rob?" You asked quietly, after a time.

He looked at you, and for moment you saw the mask slip into place, then slip away. "You married me. To an extent, you will always be in danger. And as I said, I'll always protect you."

"Don't evade. What aren't you telling me?"

"There was attempt on your life, at our wedding."

"What?"

"They couldn't overcome our defenses, but someone wanted you dead."

"Rob, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I want you to feel safe. I want you to trust that I will protect you."

"I do! I trust you more than anything in this galaxy."

"I know. I wish I didn't have to repay your faith with secrets. I wish there were no secrets." He paused. "I wish we were in a meadow, on Macragge. In a little cottage, with our children, planting a garden, and the biggest concern of ours is what we'll having for dinner."

His voice welled with emotion, and you knew that he had just revealed something to you he hadn't told anyone before.

"Rob?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

He smiled.

"And if... If you want children... Let's talk about it. Not tonight. But soon."

The two of you drifted off together as the first rays of dawn spilled into the chamber.

(Long Anon wasn't too long this time. Excuse me for traumatizing the shit out of Reader in this)

#why are you so perfect Long Anon?! #roboute guilliman x reader #warhammer 40k #wh40crack. #c'mere Robo-bby. rest your gigantic head on my bosom. #and have all my bbys. #cw: mentions of pregnancy/children.