#fool i am.... to only begin appreciating it now....

[creedslove]

THE MILLERS 💖 - HALLOWEEN EDITION🎃

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

(This can be read as a Halloween 🎃 stand alone, or as a continuation of THE MILLERS 💖, that was also inspired by this post here)

Summary: Joel takes his son trick or treating on Halloween and you three spend a beautiful family moment together

Warnings: fluff, sweetness, Joel being the best dad in the world, sexual tension, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breeding kink, allusions to smut

A/N: besties, I could go without boy dad!Joel, he's the perfect husband and dad to take our kid trick or treating, am I right? Enjoy it ❤️

2.4k words

The moment Joel woke up that Halloween morning, Sammy was already all around him, so excited and wanting to play, but not only that, he couldn't wait until the evening came and it was time for his daddy to take him trick or treating. Joel on the other hand, had so many things to do at work, but he had already told Tommy and the other guys he would leave early, because there was no way he was going to run late for such special occasion with his life, as not showing up at all due to work wasn't even a possibility to begin with. 

You finished the scrambled eggs and served your husband a plate, Sammy played trucks on the living room carpet, he was never hungry in the morning, but he still ate a grape or two when you insisted on him too, but overall, all he wanted was to play and spend time with his daddy. Your heart was always swollen with pride to see how much your son loved his daddy and how similar they were. Joel was usually a tough man, but he was always so gentle and soft around his family, you knew you couldn't have chosen a better man to build a life with. 

Your husband sipped his coffee as he let out a satisfied moan at the taste of your breakfast and gently placed his big hand on yours, caressing it gently as he looked into your eyes 

"Is everything set for tonight? What about his costume?" 

"If by everything set you mean your son talking about it non-stop for the past week, then yeah, everything's set" you tilted your head and stared at him, Joel was such a handsome man, his features were both gorgeous and attractive and if you really could choose, you would like to drag him back to your room and and sit on his lap, kissing Joel for as long as you wanted and make sweet love to him. It was funny how it always alternated between the two of you; sometimes you wanted it hard and fast, you wanted him to be rough and sometimes all you wanted was to move your bodies in sync as you stared into each other's eyes. 

"I was hoping we could spend some alone time after trick or treating, you know…" you bit your lips and he picked the clue immediately, his hand left yours and went down the table, stroking your thigh very gently at first, even if his rough calloused hand didn't need much more than a ghostly touch to get you all worked up. 

"Am I neglecting you, baby girl?" He raised his eyebrow and made you blush softly, at the same time you shook your head, Joel Miller would never neglect his woman and her needs, but he had been busy for the past few days, and with a small toddler at home, it was pretty much a miracle when the two of you were actually full of energy enough to fool around a little bit. His hand now squeezed your thigh, running it up and down and appreciating the effect he had on you; Joel Miller was an addiction to you, no matter if you'd been married for a few years and if you had a baby together, he was still the one you craved and desired the most in your life. 

However, as life with toddlers wasn't easy at all, the moment you were ready to spice up a little bit, perhaps kissing his neck and nibbling his weak spot or casually resting your hand over his crotch, but tiny steps interrupted any flirting that was going on as your son's beautiful face lit up in a smile 

"Daddy! Morning!!!" He cheered excitedly and rushed to his papa Joel, climbing his lap and getting comfortable. He eyed his dad's plate and tiny fingers stole some of his scrambled eggs and you chuckled, it wasn't about breakfast, it was about his dad's breakfast. Sammy loved his daddy with all his little heart and cherished every single minute he could spend with him, to which Joel also appreciated and did his best to make sure it happened very often. 

Your husband chuckled and placed both hands on Sammy's tummy, holding him tight against his body and resting his chin on his head. His brown curls smelled so good, as you were always so careful with hygiene and you made sure to bathe your son every day. Sammy's hands rested over his dad's. The contrast between his tiny ones and his dad's big ones also made your heart clench. Your life was so good and a part of you feared it was just too good to be true. As Joel questioned Sammy about his costume, your son told him all about it. He was excited to go as an octopus, which surprised the both of you, you knew Sammy had taken an interest in sea animals after his uncle Tommy had let him watch 'Meg' in a very irresponsible move, your son seemed to be fascinated by such animals, so you assumed his chosen costume would be a shark, however, not long after he watched the movie, Sarah came home one weekend and made sure to take him to visit the aquarium and after that, your son seemed obsessed with sea animals. Apparently, octopuses were his favorite at the moment, judging by how frequently he drew them all over his sheets of paper. The fact that Sarah, Joel and uncle Tommy all bought him all sorts of illustrated magazines and books about sea animals, made him even happier. So when he told you about the costume, you had to drive around a little to find a good one, but when you did, your son was in love with what he was seeing. He was just so excited and happy, he wanted to wear it every single day and if you hadn't told him he should make his costume a surprise for his daddy Joel, you were sure he would've thrown a tantrum over not wearing the outfit every single day, but instead, he kept it a secret - and by secret he actually told his daddy every single detail of it - which very often made you and Joel laugh together. 

When your husband announced he was going to work, your son sighed disappointed and Joel felt as if something pierced through his heart. He really needed to take a vacation some time soon, he couldn't handle seeing how upset his baby boy was each time he had to leave and also how much you missed him on a daily basis. 

"Stay daddy, please…" he said with puppy eyes and you took his tiny hand 

"Daddy has to work my angel, you know he would stay if he could, right? But he will be back soon and we will go trick or treating tonight, remember the pumpkins we carved? We'll light them up and they'll look so nice…" you told him and played with his curls, so he nodded obediently as Joel painfully had to put him down and walk to his truck. 

You knew Joel would spend a lot more with you both if he could, but since it wasn't possible, you invited your son to run some errands with you in order to distract him until it was time to trick or treat. 

                            •••

Your son was running happily through the backyard as he loved playing with the plushie tentacles of his costume. He was so excited to be finally dressed up for Halloween and the fact the street was slowly getting more and more illuminated by the all the pumpkins and decorations his little heart was racing like crazy out of excitement and expectation, but nothing, even compared to the moment he saw his daddy's truck parking in the driveway. He squealed the word 'daddy' at the top of his little lungs and rushed as fast as his legs allowed him to, the butterflies in his tummy being so much he even slipped and fell, unharmed, simply getting up on his own and jumping on Joel the moment his daddy opened his arms to welcome him in a tight embrace. Joel chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around his boy, his sweet Sammy could look like him, physically, but he was all his mommy, his intelligence, his wit and that tooth rotting sweetness he could have only inherited from you. 

"You look amazing, buddy!? You scared me for a while! I thought an octopus had invaded our garden" he tickled his son's tummy who giggled hysterically and wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck 

"You're silly daddy" he giggled and smiled big once you walked to them, you hadn't properly dressed up, but you did throw a nice black outfit, some boots, a darker makeup and a witch hat 

"You're so pretty mommy!" Sammy cheered and clapped his little hands and you pretended not to see your husband eying you up and down. You kissed your son's forehead and nodded 

"Are you boys ready to go? Uncle Tommy says he'll stay in and hand candies to the kids…" you frowned as you tilted your head "Sammy… we have a problem, we can't go trick or treating without daddy putting on a costume" you winked at Joel who shot an annoyed look at you, but the moment his son agreed and began blabbering about how important it was that he got dressed, you chuckled and handed him a hockey mask. 

"There you go, you already got the shirt and now the mask, now we can scare some little kids" 

"More like scare dickheads who dare staring at your ass, darling" he leaned towards you and whispered into your ear, giving your neck a quick peck while Sammy ran to the front porch to grab his pumpkin-shaped basket of candy. 

It wasn't the first time you three went trick or treating together, but the year before Sammy was still too little to understand it fully and enjoy everything that was happening, unlike that special evening you spent walking around the neighborhood with your family, it felt special, the kind of special you snapped a picture or two to keep it as a memory but not more than that, so you wouldn't be glued to your phone the entire time. Joel took your hand as Sammy walked a couple of meters ahead of you, his basket was full of candy and he cheered each time he found someone looking interesting or even scary, as he wasn't afraid at all. 

Joel looked at you with soft eyes, removing his stupid mask 

"You look gorgeous tonight, you know that?" He pulled you by the waist and smirked "once our little one falls asleep it's time for us to enjoy our Halloween and you're so damn teasing with this witch bitch costume I might just get you pregnant again" 

"What?!" You widened your eyes at his words and couldn't help but let out a nervous laughter "another baby?" 

Joel shrugged and kissed your lips 

"Imagine a year from now, Sammy will be trick or treating with his baby sister, would you like that?" You take a deep breath, taking a look at him as you lick your lips 

"Well… I don't know… would you like that?" You asked him, after hearing Joel call himself old over and over, complain about how he doesn't have energy to catch up with Sammy and how his back hurt, you assumed having a second baby was off the table. However, seeing his hopeful eyes, the way he looked at his and the way he looked at all the other kids, you could tell maybe he actually meant that. 

"Do you think I'd joke about that? If I didn't want it, I wouldn't have mentioned it but if you don't want then it's fine, I mean, you're still young an-" 

You interrupted him with a kiss, of course you wanted if he wanted, having a family with Joel Miller was the best decision you'd ever taken, there was no way you could pass that up. 

"Mommy, daddy!" Sammy called the two of you, he was dragging his basket since it got so full he couldn't lift it up, you chuckled helping him with the candy as Joel lifted him up. You knew your son well enough to see he was already tired, no matter how hard he tried to fight sleep, rubbing his eyes was the only thing he could do as he rested against his dad's chest. Still falling asleep in Joel's arms, you both got home, Tommy was just finishing with the candy leftovers and widened his eyes the moment he saw Sammy's 

"Really? Stealing candy from a two-year-old?" Joel raised his eyebrow annoyed at his brother, but you tugged his sleeve, showing him it was time to put Sammy in bed. He helped you take the costume off and it was alright if your son skipped showering for one night, he didn't even wait for dinner, but it was alright, because the next day he would eat a delicious big breakfast you made him and your husband. 

As you and Joel went downstairs, he pulled you by the waist, sitting on the couch and taking you with him.

"Have you talked to Sarah?" You ask nuzzling his neck as you know how much he missed his daughter 

"We video chatted during my lunchtime… she is very pretty and she was going to a party" he said with a hint of sadness in his voice, it was painful for him to see his little girl growing up so much, so you nodded and snuggled him. You placed your hand on his stomach, gently scratching down his belly as you pecked his cheek and then went for Joel's lips 

"So your desire for a new baby was just because Sarah has grown up too fast or you actually wanna do it?" You asked him gently, his arm pulling you even closer as he shrugged 

"I don't know… I want it but I'm also scared… it's a lot of trouble, it's a lot of money and Sammy is still so small, he needs us so much. But at the same time it's about having another little version of you, running around, playing and melting my old heart, I can't decide" 

"You don't have to decide anything right now, Joel, but we could get started, couldn't we?" You whispered against his ear, to which he kissed you.

Joel wasn't very sure if he wanted another baby or not, but he was so happy to have you and Sammy in his life. He loved his little family with all his heart and there was nothing he could ask for other than live a world of happiness with the two of you. 

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot

[twice-in-a-blue-moon]

The Brothers Reacting to You in Sexy Christmas Lingerie

Brothers x GN! reader

AN: I'll make one for the dateables soon. Anyways enjoy! :)

Warnings: There's no smut, these are just suggestive.

Minors DNI!

Lucifer

The moment Lucifer enters his study, he sees you sitting on his desk.

He takes note of the skimpy, see-through lingerie that you have on.

The confidence on your face wavers the longer he studies every detail that wraps around your body.

He smirks before making his way to stand in front of you, lifting your chin up so that you can’t shy away from his eyes.

The same eyes that are becoming devoid of the red hues with each passing second.

“Don’t look so nervous, you look wonderful, my dear. What do you say we take this off though, so that I can drag my lips across every inch of your body and appreciate you properly?” 

Mammon

You’re sitting on Mammon’s bed dressed up in your newest purchase, unbeknownst to him.

So when he walks in, he slams the door shut as he notices you.

His eyes widen and aren’t leaving an inch of you unseen.

Now his face matches the color of your outfit.

He tries to save face and clears his throat as he walks over to get a closer look.

He runs a hand down your neck, cold rings leaving goosebumps in their wake, brushing the material that plunges down your chest.

“Damn, y’look good. Did ya buy this just for me? Well then, why don’t I settle the debt right now. I’m all yours.” 

Leviathan

A grumble escapes Levi as a video call interrupts his gaming session, his irritation subsides when he sees that you’re the one calling.

Picking it up immediately, he’s excited to tell you all about the game, wearing a smile as your face pops on screen.

He goes bright red as his eyes trail down your body and notices you’re wearing very little, revealing so much of your soft skin to him.

He tries to hide his face behind his hands, but can’t help but peak through his fingers to get another look at you. 

Something other than his level in the game begins to rise, and he’s feeling incredibly desperate for your touch.

“Y-you’re going to kill me one of these days… Can you come over? I-I really need you right now.”

Satan

Not much phases this man. He will always catch any curve balls you throw at him.

So when he walks into his room to find you kneeling on his bed, he calmly closes the door and admires the view.

The moonlight from the window illuminates your figure, making you look ten times more alluring.

Do not be mistaken though, there is a light pink dusting his cheeks and a ravenous look in his eyes.

He’ll make his way to you, eyeing your curves through the lace while tutting under his breath.

“What am I going to do with you? You’re quite the tease. So maybe I’ll tease you until you’re begging me to take you.” 

Asmodeus

Asmo squeals in delight when he sees you.

He’ll rush over to you, hands touching the fabric that cascades down your body, the soft brush of his skin on yours as he admires every detail.

He cannot believe that he’s found a partner that rivals him in attractiveness.

He absolutely adores you and this little surprise, and it’s all for him!

Next time, he would love to go shopping with you though. The possibilities of seeing you try on different sets and fooling around in the changing rooms are endless.

“Oh my~ This looks absolutely stunning on you. Why don’t we take it off? I’d love to see the rest of you better~”

Beelzebub

Beel walks into the kitchen to raid the fridge, but pauses when he sees you sitting on the counter with your lingerie on.

Visibly and audibly gulps, the lack of material leaving nothing to his imagination.

The look you’re giving him isn’t helping matters, it’s only enticing him more.

He comes to stand in front of you hesitantly, unsure if he can touch you or not.

When you nod and give him the go-ahead, his hands land on your thighs, running dangerously close to where you want him most.

“I came into the kitchen to get food. Lucky me, I think I’ve found myself a full course meal. Please, let me get a taste of you.” 

Belphegor

Somehow you beat him to the attic room, so when he walks in you’re lying on your stomach on the bed.

Takes a moment to appreciate the lace that runs along the swell of your ass.

Takes another to just appreciate how you’re looking at him, eyes hooded and titillating, yet the pinnacle of innocence gracing your lips.

He shakes his head with a small laugh, walking to the side of the bed. 

Belphie crawls on top of you, shifting you to lay on your back. A smirk greeting you as you turn.

“Seeing you in my bed wearing that has stirred something within me. I hope you’re ready because neither one of us is going to be sleeping any time soon.”

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me lucifer smut #obey me mammon smut #obey me leviathan smut #obey me satan smut #obey me asmo smut #obey me beel smut #obey me belphie smut #obey me reader insert #obey me mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #jo writes spice

[goldsainz]

MASTERLIST.

A/N: i swear the best ideas come at the worst hours… i know i said one aemond fic, but you can’t blame me okay, ewan mitchell has a tight grip on me. i was listening to ‘so it goes…’ and then ‘mastermind’ came up, and i just couldn’t resist!!!!! also my request are open, you can check out my navigation to see who i write for [gif cred: @aemondtargaryensource]

WORD COUNT: 2,3k

warnings: titty sucking (look maybe i like that, shut up), loss of virginity

──────────

AND NOW YOU’RE MINE

You were a good girl, the bestest of girls, at least that’s how you tried to appear. Yet Aemond Targaryen was not fooled so easily, so he took it upon himself to unravel the perfection that you were.

There was a plan that had to be followed, he couldn’t be too obvious, too insensitive that it would turn you off. He couldn’t be like his brother, Aegon, that with so much as glance you recoiled from even looking his way. Though he knew it didn’t take much for that reaction to occur.

So, he accompanied you in walks and talked about any type of sweet nothing that fell from your lips. It was the highlight of each of his days, and the darkest times came moments after being with you because he yearned for more of your attention, dare he say, he craved you.

Aemond Targaryen was prepared for every outcome of his plan, except rejection, which would be terrible were he not incredibly perceptive. He could now read you like a book, no matter which language you spoke to him, he was sure the sultry tone you had in just for him would stay. Despite you being incredibly graceful, you were not a naive girl, and he appreciated how well you played the game.

Months of unofficial courting would finally reach their climax on his 19th name day, where he had a special request to be made, a present of sorts. It was superficially innocent, no lewd insinuations were thrown, no matter how easily he could have made one. Aemond knew a princess like you would not stand for them, even when the situation was improper, you needed to control how far you would go, and he let you.

But as you stood in your nightgown in his room, the clock ticking for when his birthday would be, his thoughts only screamed how beautiful you looked, just for him. Your eyes glittered in the moonlight, and he stood in front of you, looking down at you, the height difference making something rumble inside of him.

“Why am I here, Aemond?” You softly said, your breath almost mixing with his, with how close you were.

“Am I not allowed to begin my name day with my favourite person here?” His question was not a lie, but you both knew there was so much more to it than just that.

“Be honest with me, we’re both old enough for such games.” You were, you had to play grown-up games now, and Aemond’s lips slightly turned up at such thought.

“I must admit my intentions are not as proper…” His hand traveled to your forearm, sliding upwards, playing with the cloth that decorated your shoulder, “as anyone would want them to be.”

You turn away from his intense gaze, looking anywhere but at him, finding the pillows on his bed far more interesting.

“If I find myself mistaken with your feelings, please feel free to leave at once.” You sharply look at him, the fire in his face should have made you leave as he offered, but the dragon in you loved fire and wanted to play with it.

In a surge of confidence you moved forward, his chest grazing yours as your lips were mere centimeters of touching if writhe of you moved to connect them. Your breath trembled when his hand came in context with your cheek, feeling helpless as your body instantly melted to his touch.

“If you want me to touch you, Princess, you must ask for it.” Aemond whispered, his thumb caressing your cheek so lovingly you almost surged forward for a kiss of his.

“Just ask and I’m all yours.” I always have been, he wanted to say, but it felt too blunt for the delicate air that flew through the room.

“Aemond, please…”

“Please what?” You almost groaned at the teasing question, but from the look he gave you, you knew better than being bad for him.

“Please, will you kiss me?” No words were needed after you spoke those glorious five words.

Aemond placed his other hand on your other cheek, kissing you without care, sighing into the kiss after months of such yearning. He had waited, he crafted his marvelous plan, and now he could harvest the crops he planted.

The kiss was by no means careful, surely brushing your lips with the force of it, but you couldn’t find yourself to care, it felt too good. He felt too good.

One of his hands traveled to your waist, gripping it tightly to ensure you stayed put while he kissed you, not letting you wiggle away from him, not now that he had you.

The confidence you had, now came back stronger, as you took off the coat he had to prevent the chill of the night. He parted ways from you, swollen lips and heavy breathing made you almost a mirror of the other.

He looked at you, searching your eyes for an unspoken answer for a question you knew was subliminal, nodding ever so slightly, he started to undo the knots in your nightgown, They were simple, soft to the fingers, which made it easier for him to brush your back and feel the shivers that coursed through it.

He started walking towards his bed, softly making you sit by the edge of it, making you raise your arms so he could slip your clothing right off. The sight of your bare tits almost made him cum on the spot, as you gazed up at him, he couldn’t help but harden in his pants, feeling them tighten.

You were left only in your underwear, you felt exposed under the watch of his eye, but comfortable because this was who you trusted most after your immediate family. The feather light touches on your collar bone made your tits perk up more, the cold air not helping the reaction.

He laid you down on the mattress, kissing your shoulder blade, trailing down to your sensitive buds who were almost begging for his attention. Aemond sucked harshly on them, making you whine loudly, to which he had to place his hand over your mouth just to silence you enough to not catch any outsider’s attention.

“Be a good girl for me, stay quiet.” He muttered, his voice muffled by his none relenting sucking on your tits.

You only nodded in response, too overwhelmed by the never felt before sensation, as you tried to adjust to the tingling building on your cunt.

Almost as if he could sense you, Aemond took one of his hands and started rubbing you over the fine cloth that covered you. You bit your lip to restrain the moan that wanted to leave your lips so desperately, making him quicken slightly, whispering things under his breath you couldn’t hear yet felt like praises.

Even when his touch felt like the greatest sin, you were touching heaven every time he stroked that sweet pearl that laid on the most sacred part of your body. He looked like a god to her, his blonde long hair and pale violet eye did nothing to rest the thought on your mind, just amplified everything sinful thought you had wanted to bury.

“Aemond, please.” Your breathy voice was almost enough to have him moaning, he wanted you to say his name like that forever.

The hand that he had over your clothes core was now moving to take off its coverage. He searched in your eyes for regret, for any doubts but all he found was pure bliss. Aemond thought you were the most beautiful lady in the seven kingdoms, but right now, he found you ethereal. You were a goddess meant only for him, only he should ever get to see you this way.

“I know, my loveliest girl.” After he took off your garments, he experimentally brushed his fingers against your hole. He groaned at the feeling of your wetness coating the tips of his index and middle finger, he felt the way your breath hitched at his touch, and he loved it.

His pants were tighter than before, even if they were looser since they were meant for the night, he was throbbing underneath his clothing and the little sounds you let out did nothing to help his case.

He had waited so long for you, he couldn’t even think straight, which led to him being firefly driven by his emotions. The fire burning inside Aemond was not quelling and he had you laying for him on his bed, almost like you were waiting for all of the heat to end up with you.

He was going to push his pants down, even if for a little freedom, but he felt your soft hands beating him to it. They were slightly shaky, but still managed to push them down with little fuss, your eyes looking up at him with those doe eyes he yearned for.

Your hand wrapped itself around his cock, and he stuttered out a shaky breath, a moan choking on his throat as he desperately tried to gain his posture back from the feeling. You didn’t mind that he had stopped the touches on your cunt if it meant you got to see his face contorted in pleasure, as you continued to stroke him it was as if he had traveled to another realm, one you had guided him too.

“Princess…” Aemond whispered in warning, feeling the tightness in his balls keep growing as you didn’t relent your strokes. It took everything in him to tear your hand away, but if he wanted to last he had to.

He took his hand from your cunt, and replaced his touch with his cock, feeling you whine as you threw your head back. His other hand traveled to the back of your neck and guided you to kiss him, missing the way you tasted and how you sighed into his mouth.

After some teasing on his part, he had finally had enough and needed to be inside you. He placed himself on your entrance, not yet entering your velvety folds, he took a mere moment to look at you. Your forehead had a sheer look to it, some hair sticking to it, but just barely. Your eyes held a passion he had never seen before, a look he knew was only meant for his eye.

“You’re sure you want this, right?” Aemond asked, knowing the full consequences of what both of your actions could lead to, but he didn’t mind them. He just needed to know you didn’t, either.

“More than anything, I was always meant to be yours.” Your words were the last confirmation he needed for him to enter you, carefully pushing in.

At first you were uncomfortable, the feeling was weird and made a certain pain appear. You felt something drip, which meant your maidenhead had been broken and there was no true going back from your actions, not that you wanted to.

He stilled inside you, awaiting for the moment you let him move. He knew this could be painful for you, and now that he had you like this, he had all of the patience in the world to wait for your instructions.

“Aemond,” You called out to him with your eyes closed.

“Yes?”

“Please move.” With no further words, he did as you wished.

You moaned when the pain turned into pleasure, the feeling of him slowly going in and out of you was outworldly. You were sure no other feeling in the world would ever feel as good as this, and no other man would ever care for you the way Aemond did.

His thrusts were careful, deep enough to even consider he was too inside you. But there was no complaining from you, just pure bliss (though you didn’t think it was too pure).

He never once relented in his pace, not until he felt you tighten around his cock harshly, a groan slipping from him. He knew you were close, so he fastened his thrusts to get you over the edge quicker, wanting nothing more than to see your fucked out face.

“Open up your eyes, my love.” His words took a little to register on your fussy brains, but you did as he commanded, and looked up at him.

The sight was to die for, your glossed eyes made him want to get lost in them, and only spurred his passion.

“Oh, gods…” You muttered as you felt a coil in your belly tighten incredibly, clawing at Aemond’s back, surely leaving a couple red marks on him.

As he felt you reach you peak, he found himself nearing his. The moan that left your mouth was loud, too lewd, but in the state you both were there was no time to care about it. For Aemond’s ears, it was heaven, the sweetest sound he would ever hear.

After a couple moments he came inside you, the feeling of his seed in you had you gasping, still recovering from your orgasm.

He remained inside you for some time, but when he finally pulled out, his cum leaked from your pulsating hole. He laid beside you, his hand drawing circles on your belly.

“I’ve asked mother to betrothe us.” He breathed out, breaking the silence that coated the room.

“What?” You turned to look at him, your brows furrowed.

“She’s to ask your mother, though it would not be news to her, we were always meant for each other.” His voice was a mere whisper, like he was telling the biggest secret ever.

“So, we're not just celebrating your birthday, but our betrothal?”

“Our betrothal, my sweet love, is my birthday gift.” He moved his head to reach you better, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “The greatest I’ll ever have.”

Little did he know.

#*ੈ✩༄ my works ! #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond fluff #aemond angst #aemond targaryen fluff #house of the dragon fanfic

[simpforboys]

Avatar Request

Hi can I request lo’ak, where he tries to impress reader but he’s just keeps embarrassing himself. He goes to his dad for advice and just makes a fool out of himself till Neytiri comes to his rescue.

mother knows best

lo’ak sully x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: lo’ak tries so hard to gain your attention, little does he know all he needs is his mother’s advice

warnings: fluff, lo’ak pinning, maybe slight angst if you squint? lo’ak has no game

this wasn’t specific so i made reader metkayina bc i feel like it fits since yk, also probably ooc lo’ak but it’s fine

lo’ak just couldn’t help himself but be attracted to you.

your curly hair, gorgeous aqua eyes, and bright smile caused him to blush and beam.

but when tonowari asked you to help teach the sully children the metkayina ways, lo’ak was sure he was going to be with you.

it might just take awhile.

“y/n!” lo’ak calls after you. carrying a pile of fishnets to drop off to the fishermen, your ears perked up from your name.

“good morning, lo’ak.” you nodded to the boy.

“do you need any help carrying all those nets?” he asked you, a hopeful look on his face.

“why, do you believe i am not strong enough?” you teased.

“no! no that’s not what i was implying-“

lo’ak’s face blushed red as his ears fell, tail swaying behind his legs.

“relax, skxawng (idiot). i’m only joking. but if you’re offering, you can grab those buckets.” you nodded your head towards the pile of wood.

lo’ak nodded, grabbing the boxes as he began to walk with you.

“let me show you how us omatikaya hold things…” lo’ak joked, grabbing the crate with one arm and holding it over his shoulder.

“impressive. metkayinas can do that when they are three.” you winked, seeing as lo’ak tripped over a rock and dropped the crate on the floor.

lo’ak’s ears fell as you laughed, hiding your smile behind your hand. his face grew hot as some surrounding metkayinas snickered.

there were multiple instances where lo’ak would try to show off, the deed going wrong and causing lo’ak to embarrass himself.

“dad,” lo’ak approached where his father was sharpening some knives.

“what’s up?” jake asked, pausing the action to pay attention to his son. lo’ak appreciated it- the one time his father might give him real advice.

“there is this… uh… girl. and i want to impress her, but every time i do- i just make it awkward or embarrass myself.”

jake smiled at his youngest son.

“what i did with your mother was try to learn her ways. make her laugh, take what she does seriously, and just be around her. maybe ask her help you with the sign language. compliment her, make her feel special.”

lo’ak nodded at his father, a smile on his face. “thank you.”

little did the duo know, neytiri stood away with perked up ears listening to what her mate was telling her son.

the next day she watched lo’ak approach you while you were resting on the sand.

he sat across from you, accidentally splashing water into your eyes.

she swore to eywa, believing how much her son was like jake.

“i’m so sorry-“

“lo’ak, it is alright. we have two eyelids for that reason.” you sat up, blinking to show him your second eyelid and the late reaction it had.

“it’s like an alligator- an animal my father would tell stories about. how they attack sky people and other animals for venturing too close to their territory.”

you looked at the boy, confused. neytiri rolled her eyes, face palming herself.

“sorry.”

lo’ak was mentally cursing himself. a deep blush made your teal cheeks have hints of pink, and lo'ak swore he wanted to crawl into the sand and die at that very moment.

➽─────────────────❥

a few days later, lo'ak sat across from you as you taught him sign language.

"dive, swim, follow," you demonstrated every word with a hand motion, the teen following intently.

lo'ak copied your movement, his eyes watching you like a hawk as you continued to teach.

"now, you try." you nodded towards lo'ak to begin.

he was nervous, taking his hands and trying to remember the ten words you just taught him within a minute. with you, it was learn fast or get left behind, and it intimidated lo'ak.

"dive, swim, follow..." lo'ak had messed up. his ears fell flat in embarrassment, your eyes glowing with a glimmer of something he couldn't quite tell.

"well... you are learning something, at least." you shrugged, pushing your hair off of your shoulder and behind your back. lo'ak hated that you made him so nervous, made him feel like a fool.

he could tell you were slightly annoyed.

"i have to go tend to my siblings. we will catch up later, yeah?" you excused yourself from the boy. lo'ak watched with sad eyes as you left, his head hung low as he sat on the sand alone.

"get up, maitan (my son)." neytiri grabbed her son's forearm from the side, nearly frightening the poor boy.

her tone was harsh as she looked at her son with wide eyes.

"it shocks me that you did not pick up flirtatious banter from your father."

lo'ak furrowed his brows as he stared up at his mother.

"mama-"

"let me help you. while i love your father, he is like a baby sometimes."

neytiri began walking away while lo'ak stood in the same spot on the sand, dumbfounded at his mother.

"come." she barked.

"while girls like being complimented, having boys to spend time with, and whatever else your father told you, it is the average. that is not going to stand out to y/n. you need to do something special, something that shows her that you care."

it was almost as if a lightbulb went off in lo'ak's head.

"thank you, mama." lo'ak bowed to his mother, a beaming smile on his face as he ran off to begin organizing.

➽─────────────────❥

later that night, you woke to lo'ak shaking you awake gently.

"come, i have to show you something."

you wiped the sleep away from your eyes, your mind too hazy to realize what he said until you were outside of your pod.

you looked to where a woven blanket was placed on the sand, a breakfast meal arranged gently in the middle. the sun was about to rise, the moon beginning to move past it on eclipse.

"what is this?" you asked curiously, a yawn escaping your lips.

lo'ak would be lying if he were to say he wasn't terrified.

"i figured we could watch the sunrise." lo'ak was absentmindedly playing with his hands. you noticed his nervously, a small grin tugging on the end of your lips.

you sat down, beckoning him to join you. lo'ak let out a sigh of relief as he sat next to you, picking up a berry and eating it. you followed suit, the juice of the fruit exploding into your mouth.

pink, orange, yellow, and red erupted over awa'atlu as eclipse began to undo. you watched the sight intently, never purposefully watching the sight.

but eywa, it was beautiful.

the animals went back to life, the clear reef showcasing each one and their uniqueness. you were in awe, a subtly glow on your face.

"this is beautiful, lo'ak." your big grin made lo'ak's heart flutter. he ducked his head down, almost scared to meet your gaze.

you unknowingly put your hand on top of his, too lost in the scene to notice or care. but lo'ak noticed, and he very much cared.

you looked absolutely stunning under the lighting. it was refreshing to see you so happy, normally being so overwhelmed with clan business.

still tired, you put your head on lo'ak's shoulder. his heartbeat was beating rapidly. and before he knew it, you had begun to gently doze off onto him.

lo'ak grinned, rubbing your bicep gently as he laid back on the sand. your head moved to rest on his chest as you curled into him.

"i see you, y/n," lo'ak whispered. even if you didn't hear it, he just needed you to know.

however, you did hear it. the adjusting had woken you up to barely any consciousness.

"i see you too, lo'ak."

lo'ak pressed a kiss to your head, his heart doing leaps in his chest as he began to doze off with a smile on his face.

neytiri had woken up that morning to the sight of you sleeping on her son, beaming proudly at her son.

-------

tags: @mayhemories @useryourbut

sorry if this was bad or too short, i still think it's cute tho :)

#simpforboys #lo’ak sully #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #loak x you #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak imagine #loak fluff #lo'ak x you #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak fluff #avatar 2022 #avatar #avatar 2 #lo'ak sully x you #lo'ak sully x reader

[mamayan]

Humbly requesting Yobai with Giyuu (he goes to reader), a lil bit of yandere spice appreciated ✨👀

For you Desi? Anything ♡ This man makes me love the color blue~

★YOBAI☆

Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Reader

tw: Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Oral (F) • Fingering (F) • Light Overstimulation • Rough Sex • Light Breath Play • Fluff/Humor

YOBAI Series: Kyojuro, Sanemi, Obanai/Mitsuri

Idea given by @rottmntrulesall and continuously inspired by @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi ♡

“I love you.”

He had been too stunned to reply, left frozen like a fool, unable to truly fathom those three simple words. He understood what they meant, but oddly his brain just couldn’t fathom how it factored in him.

You loved him? He wanted to ask you why first and foremost. It left him reeling, because did you mean you loved him like a friend? Did you only love him like family?

Did you love him like a man?

He was moving aimlessly, arms crossed as he stalked the residential streets near his home. His face set in its familiar stoic default, hiding his inner turmoil as his legs carry him down another set of homes.

He’s hardly paying any attention, only reacting to the voice which calls out in the quiet night.

“Tomioka-san? Are you out on a mission?” Colors clash as Giyuu comes face to face with the flame pillar Kyojuro Rengoku.

The man was dressed casually, holding what appeared to be confectioneries from a local shop boxed up in one hand. His gaze was friendly and curious as ever, smile as warm as its owner.

That’s right, Giyuu thought, the flame Hashira had gotten himself engaged had he not? He must have some sort of knowledge of this unfamiliar unfurling within his chest.

It was driving him nearly mad, the way your voice seemed to echo that single sentence on repeat.

“Rengoku-san… you’re experienced in love?” The water pillar’s question struck something weirdly familiar in Kyojuro, as Giyuu moved closer. The dark haired young man looked tired; which, coupled with his expressionless face only aided in aging his appearance.

“Haha! Yes! I am getting married soon!” His boisterous laugh grates on Giyuu’s ears, but he grits his teeth and endures for the sake of figuring all this out.

“Y/N said she loved me…” if Kyojuro hadn’t known the gloomy man for so many years, he might’ve thought Giyuu was scared in the admission.

The flame Hashira just wanted to go home and eat the sweets he bought with his fiancé, not have this conversation in front of his house. His lip twitched, but smile remained as he cautiously prodded further.

“And…?” His smile dropped at Giyuu’s blank face.

“What?” His eye twitched.

“Tomioka-san… did you say anything back?” Kyojuro felt a pang of pity for you as Giyuu shook his head, lips set in a firm line.

“So you just rejected her?” Giyuu’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t reject her…?”

“You did though Tomioka-san.”

Kyojuro wanted to go home, but a strange moral obligation kept him speaking, and for a moment he wondered if his family gave off matchmaker energy.

He’d speak with his father later, for now he focused on aiding his social awkward comrade as quickly as possible.

He felt further conflicted after speaking with Rengoku.

So he spent his free time following you, his thoughts consumed by you, fighting the pull he felt. This couldn’t possibly be healthy or normal, you shouldn’t haunt even his dreams. You respected his space, but every hopeful glance you sent his way sent him spiraling further.

Why did you need to be so lovely? So hard working and dedicated, you spent your days busy and helpful. Giyuu never truly realized how busy a Kakushi’s day could be, but it was possible it was just you.

Were you overworking yourself?

Did you eat breakfast this morning?

You sneeze cutely.

He likes how you laugh.

Your eyes glitter when you see the notes he begins anonymously leaving you, searching anywhere and everywhere, yet never seeing him from his perch in the trees. He likes the game he starts of cat and mouse, amusing himself watching you struggle to figure it out.

You’re quite the detective though, finally bringing out a simple note to show Kocho who recognizes his script.

He still doesn’t reveal himself, avoiding your growing awareness.

He enjoys spending his free time watching over you, dancing around your confession, until someone new appears in your little world.

A male demon slayer, around his own age, asking you on a date.

A romantic one. The sort which leads to engagement and marriage. He nearly pulled his blade, a boiling rage bubbling up and over his top, red flashing through his gaze.

You declined, polite and kind as always, but it didn’t matter. That man spoke to you because Giyuu hadn’t claimed you.

You were his weren’t you? You said you loved him.

Giyuu grit his teeth, face distorted even now as you returned to work and the day faded into night.

Even training was useless, his mind conjuring up images of you with someone else, smiling and directing that soft gaze on them.

His blade came down again, body covered in sweat as he huffs in exhaustion.

It still wasn’t enough. He was trembling from his own emotions attempting to claw through his chest.

He was tired of feeling regret.

The thought of “if I’d only been stronger, arrived sooner, said something” plaguing him until he stood outside your home.

In the middle of the night.

The moon hung as a crescent shining down, surrounded by a sea of stars.

He hadn’t changed out of his uniform, sword still attached to his hip as he moved forward. Gravel crunched under his sandals.

It seemed the closer he got to you, the more agitated he felt.

His hands shaking when he reached the front door, fist clenched and hand raised as if to knock. He froze, realization dawning on how this might look to any nosy neighbors who might be passing by. He slipped around back, away from sight and instead using a side entrance into your home that was left unlocked.

That fact made him uncomfortable as he moved forward on silent feet, his shoes left neatly by the door as he explored in search of your bedroom.

His chest continuing to itch with frustration until he slid the last shoji back to reveal a simple small room. A futon laid in the center where a bundle laid under the covers.

You looked serene, tucked sweetly away in bed and dreaming of something nice if the small smile on your lips was any indication.

He sighed, sitting down beside your bed with one foot propped up to lean on, looking down at you while you dozed.

Almost an hour passed before he grew impatient again, memories of today still on repeat as he tries to calm himself by just looking at you.

Except he didn’t just want to look anymore, he didn’t want to only observe and tease from afar. He wanted to hold you, speak to you, touch you.

He stood silently, taking off his sword and leaning it against your back wall, moving again to stand over your futon where you laid curled in the middle like a sleeping cat. Completely ignorant to his inner turmoil as he kneels before crawling completely over you.

That’s what you awake to, the figure of Giyuu Tomioka looming over you while you slept.

You startle, not immediately recognizing him in your half dreaming state, mouth opening to speak before a hand gently but firmly covers it.

“Don’t scream,” they weren’t very comforting words, your eyes widening fearfully and trying to adjust to the dark room, but it’s the voice which gives your panic pause.

“I just…” he didn’t know what he needed, because it clearly wasn’t just to see or merely touch you anymore. “I wanted to ask if you meant it… back then.” He was grateful the room was dark, his face feeling hot despite the cool air surrounding him.

You weren’t struggling or fighting him, seeming to have realized who he was already. Giyuu released his hold over your mouth, taking in your pretty features painted by dim moonlight with your eyes trained on him.

“I did mean it,” your voice cute and slurred as you sleepily answer, curious and less afraid now that you know who paid you a nightly visit.

Was he here for…? The thought seemed ridiculous, because Giyuu always struck you as a bit reserved, but why else would he be here in the middle of the night asking you about your confession?

You were still tired, but it helped dispel any nerves which might’ve been present had the sun been up. You let your arms raise slowly, as if it might scare the fearsome demon slayer, and wrapped them around his neck.

It pulled him in a little closer, and you could make out his features a little better like this.

His breath stuck in his throat, enamored by your close proximity, your soft sweet scent, and your words.

You meant it.

You wanted him, and while he was overcome with the urge to self-sabotage his happiness and remind you of his flaws, he was stopped by you leaning up.

Your kiss was feather light, just grazing his own for a split second before pulling away.

He chased you though, his own slotting against yours this time, but the force and pressure has you gasping so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth.

You whined but he devoured it as he pushed the hot muscle around with your own, lighting you with the same passion he was feeling.

He let some of his weight drop, pinning you to prevent you from wiggling away from him, letting his thigh spread your own so he could slot himself in between.

Your yukata was in disarray, so when Giyuu’s groin pressed against your own it was only his pants separating him from your sex.

The feeling of something hard and thick pressing against your slick heat had you moaning, fabric sliding and creating delicious friction against your hooded nub. Shocks of pleasure jolted up your skin, but it was Giyuu’s own groan and pause that disrupted the kiss.

He realized there was nothing beneath your sleepwear, your soft thighs naked up to your stomach, and his own body hiding your slit from his view.

You caught your breath, watching as Giyuu lifted up and moved down your body, fingers quickly digging into the plush flesh of your inner thighs when they tried to close.

“Keep them open.” His eyes are narrowed on the expression of arousal and embarrassment you wear, lips titling up a bit as he smooths his hands down to your ass. “Be good for me,” you nearly choke when he says the words, but you really do when his tongue flicks out right over your puffy clit. Fingers dig into the futon while your eyes lock with his own, ensnared by the lewd show he makes of flattening his tongue and dragging it up slowly through your folds, adding pressure when he feels your legs start to shake.

His languid licks grow more fervent by the minute, his own desperation hastening his movements to lap and suck at your clit, before dropping down to prod your entrance with the tip. Your hips jerk, back arching as you grind against his face, slick coating his lips and chin as he eats you like a man starved.

“G-Giyuu, fuck, please,” it takes him a a moment to realize you used his first name, but when he does he nearly swears aloud.

Grunting when he feels your fingers tangle in his dark hair, Giyuu moves his hand around to press a finger against your tight hole, his tongue not stopping his assault on your throbbing nub. He watches you as he sinks his middle finger inside, the way you twitch and whine, lips parted and eyes heavy lidded as you pant.

Giyuu moans as he sinks deeper inside you, the snug fit around even just one finger as your feverish gummy insides massaged it had his hips rutting into the futon below.

He can tell you’re close, it’s not difficult with the way you buck and pull him closer as he adds a second finger, beginning to stretch you out and pump now.

Giyuu curls his fingers, watching it light you up as you cry out, pretty cunt grinding down and trying to seek even more friction as you tremble and moan.

He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t boost his ego.

It’s when a third finger begins to squeeze into your snug walls that you jerk back, his hand wrapped around your thigh and anchoring your hip keeping you from going anywhere though.

He pauses his movements as you pant, looking at your scrunched features as you adjust to the tiny sting.

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises, slowly sinking three of his thick calloused fingers inside of you, “so lovely and all mine, aren’t you?” His voice has dropped an octave as he lazily pumps his digits, soaked by your arousal and sliding in easier and easier as you relax.

Only when your brows unfurl does he smirk and kiss your inner thigh, sticking his tongue out and dragging it against your skin back to the little bundle of nerves.

The feeling of being so full and his tongue just softly tracing over your clit sends you over the edge.

“I-I’m—hah,” your head falls back as the first wave washes over you, gentle but building. The wet squelching of Giyuu still licking and fucking his fingers into you getting louder, as you realize with a shaky inhale that he’s not stopping.

“Giyuu…!” He tightens his grip, brows furrowing as you break his concentration, intent on absolutely devouring you. You might’ve came but he’s not done with your swollen bud or leaking slit, his fingers leaving your entrance in favor of wiggling the powerful muscle in his mouth inside you. Your core spams around it, cries growing as you nearly rip strands of his hair out in your desperation for relief from his mouth. You can’t break his grip on you, the next orgasm striking you like a slap as you cum.

“Mhn—!” Your burning eyes finally blur as tears spill, the ache inside you releasing as pleasure clouds your mind into oblivion.

Giyuu only stops when your shaking subsides, lessening his ministrations as you come down from your second high.

He doesn’t realize it’s him shaking until your muscles go lax and limp in his hold, his hands trembling with restraint as he drags himself back up to look down at your blissed out face.

It’s so cute it nearly enrages him, his hands quickly taking off his haori and uniform, yanking at fabric aggressively as he tries to free his painfully hard cock from the confines of his clothes.

You’re still catching your breath, blinking your blurry vision away only to see Giyuu’s naked torso draping over you as he unties your belt and fully opens your yukata.

Your eyes have fully adjusted now, able to clearly see his toned pale skin on display. Scars littered his pretty skin, hard planes of muscle a testament to his devotion as a slayer, but his steely gaze isn’t cool like the water breathing he uses. Those dark blue pools are boiling as he looks at your soft nude figure, hands quick to grasp your hips and slide up to your chest.

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this…” his solemn and possessive tone have goosebumps erupting on your skin. The feel of his hands are rough as they trail and dance across your breasts, two fingers coming together to pinch harshly at your nipple, pulling a huffed squeak from your lips as you pout up at him.

He smiles at you.

Not a half smirk or tiny twitch of his lip, but a warm smile filled with adoration, and it leaves you vulnerable for his next attack.

He plants one forearm just above your head, leaning close for a searing slow kiss that was downright filthy in how he lewdly moaned into your mouth. The deep sound reverberating into you as you melt further beneath him.

You’re distracted, boneless legs easily pried further open for his hips as he slides closer to you, his free hand letting the reddened soft tip of his cock brush through your soaked lower lips.

You jolt at the sensation, the heat of his body taking you by surprise, but his mouth follows when you pull back, biting down on your lower lip and licking the sting away when you whine.

Then you feel pressure, at first odd but not painful. Giyuu huffs against your mouth as your walls crush the tip of his cock as he pushes in.

“Relax for me, let me in,” he’s fighting hard not to just shove entirely inside you in one thrust. Your warm and soft body leaving his head muddled as he pulls out, before pushing in again, working himself deeper inch by inch.

Your clammy palms find his biceps, fingers digging into the hard muscle as you try to obey and relax for him, but you can’t help when you clamp down with the feeling of being invaded by his burning rod continually shoving into you. He wasn’t outright painfully thick, but his length far surpassed his fingers as his cock pushed your limits before he was fully seated inside, tip pushing up your cervix to fit completely while your legs trembled and tensed around him.

“Y/N,” you didn’t mean to close your eyes, just consumed with concentrating on getting used to him, when a large palm cupped your cheek and encouraged you to look up. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, flushed and heaving for breath just from feeling you squeeze around him, brows taunt as he gazes at you with those softening eyes.

“Am I hurting you?” You shake your head, because it didn’t hurt, he was just stretching you out so much it was leaving you reeling.

He seemed to understand as he chuckles, kissing your temple as his hips slowly drag out of you, each vein on his cock rubbing in his exit. Your nails bite deeper into his skin, your exhale of breath sharp before he shifted and nudged a new spot that made you moan.

“There?” He’s not actually asking you. Not when he sinks back in, watching your every expression while gauging where that spot was.

He brushes it with his tip, the spongey area making you clench and slacken in the same moment, toes curling as the thickness inside seems almost unbearable before feeling so good your own hips rock up to meet his thrust.

“You’re so tight,” his hair has come loose from the ponytail he keeps it in, thick strands tickling your collarbone where they drop, his shoulder muscles taunt with pent up energy as he begins a steady pace inside of you, letting your slick glide him into your narrow hole. His eyes flicking up and drinking in the almost drunk expression on your pretty face, adoring how you both seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces.

“G-Giyuu,” your panting little moans are speeding up with his thrusts, the room becoming sweltering as your bodies collide, his groin coming flush against your ass with each loud smack of his balls. His hand tangles in the blanket below, gripping the fabric as he concentrates on not filling you up carelessly. His free hand moves up your hip where he’d been holding you, brushing over your sensitive nipples teasingly before gently wrapping around your throat.

One of your hands wrap around his wrist, cautious and curious of why he was holding you like this, but not fighting when he lightly squeezes the sides of your throat.

“Oh,” you moan, voice a little hoarse and softer than usual as you feel your head go light and airy while the intense pleasure inside of you spikes. His cock spearing and bullying your insides as he groans, your pussy only becoming tighter as he restricts your blood flow lightly, watching your fucked out face in fascination. His own isn’t any better but you’re not paying attention, only caring about the bubble expanding inside your belly again, his cock threatening to pop it at any second, his lower half soaked in your slick as it slides down your ass and onto the futon.

“Are you going to cum for me?” His expression is nearly pained as he restraints himself, smirking as you senselessly babble something incoherent but your nails scrape sharply over his skin and help clear his mind. He shifts even closer, forcing himself to hunch over you while he releases your throat and grips under your knees.

You cry out as he lifts your legs up, pressing your knees almost to your collarbone while he drills your cunt, his feet digging into the futon below as he has you in a mating press. His nose nearly brushes yours, so close but far as he grunts and slams into you, the new angle increasing the tightness, your walls milking him while he fucks you stupid.

“Fuck—m’gonna cum, Giyuu!” Your eyes roll back, insides clamping down and seizing around him while you gush, cream forming around the base of his cock while he pants, teeth grit while he focuses on drawing out your release as long as he can. “N-no more, please!” You nearly wail as his cock overstimulates you, still brushing against that spot inside that has you seeing white.

He takes mercy this time, pulling out so quickly your hole is left gaping for a moment as he sits back and grips his cock and works himself fiercely over you, grunting and biting down on his lip while his balls draw up tight and he shoots ropes of hot cum over your dripping pussy and lower belly. Using his tip to smear it over your swollen lips as he groans.

You watch quietly, body still thrumming with euphoria from your orgasm as Giyuu finishes too, looking ruined as he finishes on you before nearly collapsing too.

He lets himself fall to his side, one arm reaching out and dragging you against him despite both your sweaty figures. He holds you tightly while you both calm, your heartbeat slowing as exhaustion takes hold and your eyes droop.

As a Hashira, he’s quick to recover, and while he could certainly stand to take you two or three more times, he instead relishes in the feel of holding you against him so intimately.

You’re asleep in minutes, breathing even as you doze against his chest.

He closes his eyes, letting his forehead drop against the crown of your head, whispering quietly what you fell asleep too quickly to hear.

“I love you too…” he’ll say it again when you wake.

“Thank you,” Kyojuro looks up from the training dummy he’d just destroyed, gaze landing with surprise on the water Hashira standing awkwardly before him, not looking at him.

Giyuu stood with his arms crossed staring off into the distance, reminding Kyojuro of an old man with the sort of serene gaze only the elderly possessed.

“Ah! You’re welcome haha! You took my advice?” His bright eyes widened, quite shocked in truth.

Giyuu merely nodded, turning to walk away having said his gratitude now.

Kyojuro didn’t stop him, still amazed his half-assed terrible advice had actually worked. Unlike his younger brother who was quite beloved and well known by the corps, Kyojuro could care less about Giyuu’s emotional constipation.

He’d told him to stop being a coward and act like a man.

You never did find out that Giyuu’s “night crawling” act was in fact just his strange way of coming to tell you his feelings before he could talk himself out of it and lose you to another.

Your kiss just initiated what he’d been holding back. ♡

Giyuu’s face whenever he sees that other slayer who tried to ask you out.

Post dividers/ @saradika

#Yan loves Desi #see what I did there? #request filled #Giyuu Tomioka #Giyuu Tomioka smut #Yobai Giyuu #Kny Giyuu smut #Giyuu smut #kny Giyuu Tomioka x reader #Giyuu Tomioka x reader smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny smut #kny x reader #kny x reader smut #Yan is sick of fucking tagging already #kny x kakushi reader

[thebigsl33p]

Last Words of A Shooting Star (Part One)

A/N: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and this is only part one. A lot of love has gone into this, I'm super excited to share it! If there any mistakes or stuff please let me know. Uh, Aleksander's kinda OOC bcs it's early days and I'm not traumatising him yet but I am gonna make everyone so miserable in Part Two, I promise, and then he'll become a mardy bastard. Masterlist will be up with the second part, and my main will be updated.

Main Masterlist

people I thought might appreciate being tagged: (If not, sorry!!!):

@augustwithquills @myanmy @noortsshift @archangelslollipop @vaguekayla @budugu @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @weallhaveadestiny @dreamlandcreations @bookloverfilmoholic @lost-tothe-centuries

Warnings: Violence - murder, not too graphic, I don't think. I think that's all, if not please let me know. tbf, canon level I think but maybe I'm delusional

Word Count: 8260

Fic Playlist:

Aleksander has always had a fascination with the night sky. He can’t help it. It’s the darkness, he thinks, it runs in his blood and makes up his flesh, how couldn’t he be absolutely enamoured with it? 

Maybe it’s because it was the only constant. 

So much of his childhood, his years as a teenager and as a young adult were spent travelling, creating new identities, learning new landscapes, new faces, new names, new buildings, all of which would disappear and be replaced every two weeks. And sure, the daytime was nice with the sun and all. But it wasn’t as peaceful, didn’t bring him that same tranquillity as when he would lay down in a field, gaze up and try to name all the constellations, find new shapes and make up new stories. 

Perhaps it all changed due to the incident at the Grisha camp. He had loved sunlight, the dark had scared him. But now, something was different - that air of peace was replaced by a penchant for the tenebrosity that the night brought with it, and a love for the small lights which decorated the dusk. 

No matter where he went, whether he was North, East, South, or West, the night-sky was the same. Always that deep monumental blue speckled with little dots - little lights, little moons, little stories - which people like him called Stars. There was nothing quite like laying in a field, feeling the cool summer breeze or the biting winter gusts and knowing that you were so small, so insignificant compared to everything that burned up in the cosmos. 

He was young then. Young and naive. And it was before her.

Looking back on it, Aleksander should’ve known better. Hadn’t the incident at the Grisha Camp taught him that? Wasn’t it what his mother drilled into him constantly? Trust no one. Never show your abilities. Touch no one. He was, politely put, a fool. 

He was a young man when his life changed, for the better and for the worse. It’s hard to remember exactly, but he believes he was around nineteen, and he remembers it was a hot summer’s evening. The day had been spent working. He couldn’t have known then, but that ‘work’ was the beginnings of The Little Palace. But back then, it was him being - as his mother would put it - foolish, and helping other Grisha travel across Ravka. They were hard to find, and even harder to trust, but gradually, slowly yet surely, he was building a good network.

But during the nights, just for a little while he could let that go. He could lay in the tall grass, head tipped towards the dark vast sky and he could stare up at the stars and pretend he was normal, that shadows weren’t absentmindedly curling around his fingers.

For some reason he struggles to remember memories before that time. They’re blurry and vague, little snippets and days that he’s lost with his extended age. But that particular night, he remembers it vividly - his long hair brushing his cheek in the wind, the hard dirt under his head, the hum of nature and bugs, the bustle of a town not so far away carried on the wind, and the stars. They were the brightest he’d ever seen them, almost restless, buzzing in their eternal placeholders. Something, he could feel, was wrong.

The image of the star falling to Earth is eternally seared into his memory.

It appeared faster than he could comprehend - one second it wasn’t there, and then one second it was. He sits up on his elbows, completely transfixed and stunned by, what he at first presumes, is a shooting star. But gradually, he realises it’s getting bigger, faster… closer.

This burning bright ball of cream yellow light, tumbling through time and space and existence, tumbling towards him. Sitting there in the field, stunned by the sight, he’s sure he can hear it fizzling and crackling, knows it’s completely impossible from this distance, but he’s certain of it. Something tugs in his chest, somewhere between unbridled intrigue and panic, his mother’s words of warning echoing in his head. The intrigue wins, it’s an easy internal battle of common sense and childlike wonder which he thought he had long abandoned. 

Aleksander scrambles to his feet, accidentally getting dirt on his palms and his trousers but he barely notices, head still tilted to the sky and his breath caught in his throat. He can see the trajectory of the star, where it will land in a section of the forest just a bit off from where he’s camping out. His eyes widen, a small smile, and before he knows it he’s stepping towards the tree-line, his black boots thudding on the ground as his footsteps get quicker and quicker. 

To anyone else, the forest might’ve seemed daunting, especially so late at night. But the Shadow Summoner stepped into it without hesitation, the wizened terrain underfoot switching to a softer crunch of twigs and leaves. Once inside, he loses sight of the star, the canopy of the forest shielding it from him, its only indication being the unnatural light it shines through the leaves onto the forest floor, making his journey easier. He dodges twigs, branches, spider-webs, ducking and batting them out of the way quickly, balancing looking at the floor and where he’s going with gazing up at the foliage covered sky for any indication he’s travelling the right way. 

He doesn’t know why he’s following after the star. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s a star. It feels more akin to when you’re in a dream, and you just know something is. Something about it compels him, drags him forward and pushes him on, deeper into the forest.

When the star makes impact, he feels it. In fact, Aleksander’s sure the entire world might’ve felt it, the shake in the trees and the ground, the birds disturbed from their midnight peace quickly fleeing their homes at the rattle of the branches and leaves, the dust-like dirt stirring. And it guides him to the star - the cracking noise it made as it hit the ground unmistakably came from a fraction to his left and so, he followed that way. 

He knows he’s getting closer when the damage becomes more destructive. It’s no longer just disturbed birds and dirt, it’s entire trees tilted at an angle as if God had pushed a finger into the dirt and tilted them, their roots peeking through the soil. But in the middle of the makeshift clearing it is dark, the disturbed dirt floating and drifting through the air and concealing his surroundings. The ground is severely dented and compacted, forming a large dark crater which Aleksander can barely peek over. 

He shuffles from the damaged treeline, his boots creaking on the soil as he tries to catch a glimpse over the edge of the vast crater, but it’s wide and deep, and the edges are loose. He’s careful, his Shadows waiting obediently for his hands to move - for some form of attack or defence. But it never comes. 

Instead, as the clouds of dirt clear, the centre of the crater gradually became more visible. The middle was, overall, smooth but it slopes and nicks here and there. He had expected to see a rock, some large grey bland thing which ultimately would’ve made this all less exciting. But what he sees instead has his eyes widening. There, in the middle of the crater, is a young woman. She’s asleep - passed out maybe - her arms loosely stretched outwards, her hair splayed, messy and white. It’s not even like he can say it’s grey, or silver, or blonde. No, her hair is white, paper white, as white as the dress she’s wearing. It fits her well, skims over her body without constricting too much movement.  He notices she has no shoes on. It dawns on him that this sleeping woman, this girl, is the Star and his brow furrows softly. 

He barely hesitates before he’s sitting on the ledge of the crater and sliding down it, his boots landing on the compacted soil with a thud. In a few strides he’s standing over the sleeping girl, and then in another quick action he crouches down and picks her up, the back of her knees bent over his arm, her waist in his other as he supports her back and her head lolls. He huffs in soft amusement, and walks back the way he came, gently hoisting her up the wall of the crater with as much care as he can, using his shadows when he has a spare hand. It’s hard, and takes a bit of manoeuvring, but he gets there eventually before he pulls himself up. It’s a surprise to him that she hasn’t woken up yet. 

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her there like that, asleep, vulnerable and barefoot where anyone could’ve found her and not have known what they had stumbled on. He picks her up again, and begins his journey back through the forest, a little slower and with a little more care, mumbling to himself - to her - as they go. She doesn’t stir once, her head propped against his chest, her hair tickling his arm slightly. 

The journey back to where he was camping out is peaceful. It’s quiet, save for his footsteps or the rustle of clothes. Occasionally, the moonlight catches her and she sparkles a bit. Literally sparkles, reflects it like a goddamn mirror. It really is a sight to see and it makes his lips quirk up a bit. 

When they get back to the field, he’s careful. Aleksander lays her down on his mat, adds a few more logs to the fire and covers her with his coat. He thinks of checking her for injuries or damage, but decides that can wait until she wakes up. He doesn’t want to be a creep, and if she’s in pain she’s probably better off telling him when she wakes up, than him finding out for himself. 

And so, he settles himself on the other side of the campfire. He leans his head on his pack - considering the girl next to him has his mat - and tries to get what little sleep will come. 

-

When Y/N wakes, it’s in unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing she’s aware of is the cold. It’s not freezing, but it’s uncomfortable, and she tucks her legs up under her until she’s in a ball, tugging the blanket under her chin. Blanket? No. She shouldn’t have a blanket. It shouldn’t be cold… 

She sits up fast and quick, all lethargy gone from her body as her eyes widen and she takes in her surroundings. She’s in a field. On a mat. And someone’s dark, large coat is over her body. It’s early morning, the sky a pale grey, a low mist settling on her surroundings and a light dew coating the grass. She can feel heat on one side of her, but her head is turned towards the foggy treeline. She tries to recall the last things she remembers… being in the sky, existing, and then a sudden gap which she can’t figure out, and then she wakes up here. 

She’s caught in thought, trying to make sense of her surroundings when a voice says, “You’re awake.” and her head whips around. On the other side of a fresh campfire is a young man, dark eyes, long dark hair, pale skin and dark clothes. He’s roasting a rabbit over the fire - no doubt freshly caught from the knife that sits beside him. His pack sits beside him, his eyes never leave her, even as she expresses soft panic. 

She tries to get up, but her body aches, and he holds out a hand, “Easy. I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” he asks softly, waving to her to relax. 

She answers hesitantly, her eyes scanning the boy, “Y/N.” she says eventually, “You?” 

“Leonid.” Aleksander lies, looking between the campfire and her, “Are you hurt anywhere? You took… quite the fall.” 

“Funny.” Y/N says drily, “How long have you been working on that one?”

From the grin that splits his face, he’s clearly secretly pleased with his dad-joke, “Just this morning.” Leonid - Aleksander - turns a bit more serious, “Are you, though? Hurt?” 

She shakes her head, kicking the coat off her and putting it to one side so she can sit up properly, “No, I’m fine.” she mumbles, “Just achy.” 

“Mhm, I suppose that’s to be expected.” he holds the cooked rabbit out to her on a makeshift fork, “Here, eat. You’ll need it.” 

Y/N takes it hesitantly, sniffing it before picking a bit of meat off it with her fingers and eating it, “Thanks… who are you?” 

“Leonid.” He repeats. 

“No, I meant like - where am I? Who are you - like - how did you find me?” 

“Well,” he leans back on his elbows, glances around, “You’re in a field, near Vernost, in Ravka.” he says, “and I am…” his brow furrows softly as he figures out how to phrase this. She’s a Star - would she even understand the difference between Grisha and Otkazats’ya? 

He says it anyway. 

“As I said, my name’s Leonid, I’m…” he’s hesitant - would a star really have prejudices? He hopes not. He takes a foolish chance. “Grisha. You know what that is?” 

She nods, offers him what remains of the Rabbit. He waves it off, indicating that she finishes it. “Why are you helping me?” She asks, tilting her head. 

“My, you’re just full of questions.” he sighs, “I saw you fall. I wasn’t just gonna… leave you.”

“Right.” Y/N’s eyes narrow slightly, “is this your coat? Here you can have it back.” she nudges the coat towards him. 

He gives her an amused look, his eyes moving down, then back up, “I think you’ll need it more than me, zvezda.” he muses, smug almost. 

She glances down at the dress she’s wearing. It’s simple, plain, and he’s right. It’s too thin for the current weather - she’ll be better off as it warms up during the day - but for now, she accepts the coat with a small, amused huff. 

"C'mon, eat that fast," he says, indicating to the rabbit, "We've gotta get going before the sun is too high." He's already tucking away the few things he got out, "I'm gonna walk you to the nearest town, Vernost, leave you somewhere safe, okay?" he glances at her, "Get you some shoes and some more suitable clothes. Until then…”

He reaches into his pack, produces a spare undershirt and hands it to her with an almost apologetic look, "Better than nothing." she nods in thanks.

She takes the shirt with a grateful nod. Once she's finished the rabbit, she stands and hands him the mat, watching as he rolls it up and tucks that away too, and then they're set to travel. She pulls on the undershirt over her dress and while it hangs loosely it provides a bit more comfort, and then she shuffles on his coat. It’s too big for her, completely contrasts her bright eyes and white hair, the sleeves hang loosely and she has to roll them up. 

 He wants to make her as comfortable as possible, and so shows her the map he’s using, highlights the path they’ll be travelling with his finger, showing their way through the woods, worries a bit over her lack of shoes and then they’re walking. 

The path to the town is simple, through the woods, past her crater, and then a little further for about fifteen or twenty minutes. He’s careful to go first, his harsh boots making some attempt at flattening the ground for her barefoot condition. Aleksander considers picking her up - no, too weird for someone he’s just met - and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain. 

They keep walking. The sun rises higher, the morning beginning just as they make their way into Vernost. It’s a small town, but a good town. The hustle and bustle of people, farmers, artisans, builders and blacksmiths is accompanied by the gentle murmur of the small local market, travellers and locals who move between stalls and shops, horses’ hooves on the cobblestone, the crowd parting for an occasional rickety wooden carriage.

He glances over to her. The look of awe on her face is somewhere between sad and endearing. She’s struck completely by this tiny town, the smallest, simplest form of inhabitance, and yet it brings nothing but awe and wonder to her gaze. There’s a sense of yearning in the way her eyes run over everything as they walk, as if she’s desperate to take it all in, to retain it, keep it held to her chest - to make life hers. To have all of it - to know the joys and the sorrows like the back of her hand. Aleksander could practically see the light come to life behind her eyes, as if she’d finally woken up to something wonderful. 

He smiles, somewhere between amusement and appreciation, and places a hand on her shoulder to steer her through the crowds which are slowly getting busier, “Easy tiger.” he says and she laughs sheepishly. 

“It’s just all so…” she doesn’t know how to describe it, the words to explain the way her heart is racing all jam up in her throat. She has a heart. The rushing of blood, just the wind against her skin, it’s all she ever wanted to feel, and now that she can feel it, now she’s no longer confined to the night sky, she’s in complete and utter astonishment, raptured by everything around her. 

“Kinda overwhelming?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow as they walk. He’s keeping an eye out for a Cobbler - or anywhere that sells shoes, really. Again, he casts his eyes down to her bare feet and feels guilt and concern rise in him, that the streets of Vernost, nor the woods are exactly clean, and they must be hurting by now.

But one glance at her face and he can tell she barely feels it. It’s just dirt - it can be washed off. However, it doesn’t ease the guilt. 

-

The first time she ‘shines’, is over a piece of cake. 

They’d been travelling together for a few weeks now. Aleksander was a fool to think he could leave her alone in Vernost, his worries, concerns and guilt over the Star getting the better of him. They stayed for a few days there, giving her a general introduction to the workings of human life in a contained and somewhat non-threatening environment. 

In their few brief days in Vernost she tries a range of food, stews, desserts. He explains money, the current politics of the country over a bowl of stew from the Inn they were staying at, explains the prejudices and segregation of Grisha, the violence. They get her clothing, a shirt, an overvest, trousers and boots, and a small bag to carry her non-existent belongings. She folds her dress into it for the first few days - that silky silver material which catches in the moonlight - and it fits surprisingly well, tucks into the corner of the satchel. He explains to her how to read the map, all the different little symbols. In some ways, she’s like a child. Her lack of general knowledge about the world is understandable, but she catches on fast, much faster than anyone else could’ve. 

Well, they’d been travelling together for a few weeks, developing a relationship that might even be called friendship. Aleksander had to make a few adjustments to the way he travelled - he was still telling Y/N his name was Leonid - occasionally they travelled at night. Honestly, it made more sense, he felt more comfortable in the darkness, and she had more energy. But it also made them bigger targets for suspicion, people travelling at night were often suspected of Grisha related activity… which is exactly what he was doing. She was just along for the ride, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get dragged into his problems and potentially harmed. Conflicting morals, he knows. 

They’d passed through a few villages on their travels, small places which minded their own business and were good for occasional stock ups on food, water, supplies. 

He doesn’t know why he bought the slice of cake. Aleksander had decided it was good for her to develop her own independence, and so she had gone to make her own way around this small town they’d stopped in. Meanwhile, he perused the sparse shops for anything of use. 

The slices of cake were sitting in the shop window, all of them uniform in their cream decoration and the small slices of strawberries which sat inside and on top of the layers of sponge, and all of them placed delicately on little porcelain dishes. He enters the shop without thinking, purchases a slice to take away, lets the person wrap it away in a small tissue and carefully takes it, slipping it into a safe part of his own bag. He’s careful for the rest of the day in the way he moves - making sure not to squash or compromise the baked good. He can’t quite wrap his mind - nor his heart - around why he’s done it. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to buy her a slice of cake of all things. But he’s glad he did. Aleksander hopes she’ll like it. 

He presents it to her over their campfire for the evening. It’s a small thing made of dried grass and twigs or any larger pieces of wood they could find but it provides light and heat and that’s enough. They’re sitting either side of it, across from one another, having just eaten bread and cheese for dinner. Twilight is setting in the sky, and he can see it on her - the way her eyes are slightly brighter, her laugh slightly more mellow as they chat over their food. 

He reaches into his bag by his side, clears his throat and says, “I got you something.”

Y/N’s brow furrows softly, and she tilts her head as he continues, “I just… it’s small, but I thought you might like it.” and he produces a square shaped thing, slanted, and wrapped in tissue, still preserved, offering it to her in the palm of his hand over the campfire. 

She takes it gently, “What is it?” as she delicately peels back the tissue. The cake is… well, cake. The sponge is a soft pale yellow, the cream delicately placed and the strawberries are slightly softer than they should be, but won’t make too much of a difference. She raises it to her nose and hesitantly sniffs it, which gets a chuckle out of him. 

“It’s cake.” he answers, “Go on, try it.” Aleksander encourages her with a wave of his hand. 

She raises her eyebrows and lifts the cake to her mouth, taking a small bite. Her eyes instantly light up, and he laughs at her reaction as she mumbles, “Oh, Saints, this is really good..” Around a  mouthful of cake. 

She eats a bit more, and then holds it out to him, “Want some?” 

And that’s when he sees it. She’s shining. Literally glowing. Radiating light, her very skin and hair giving it off like it’s nothing. His breath hitches as she lights up the field. It’s not particularly bright, but it’s strong and it makes itself known. She’s like a mellow night light, and it only causes his smile to widen, “You’re um…”  he gestures at her - at her glowing. 

Her brow scrunches up - it’s cute - and she laughs sheepishly, “Shining?” 

“Yeah. That.” he grins, leaning back on his palms. 

She huffs, a huff of mock exasperation, “I’m sorry - I can’t… it’s not something I can really control. It just happens, y’know. Like…” She averts her eyes to the flames of the small campfire, “If I’m happy. I shine - it’s what stars do best.” They both laugh a little. 

“Well, it suits you.” Aleksander says gently - his voice much softer than he meant it to be, or than he’s comfortable with. When did he get so… compassionate? He internally grimaces, but for some reason he feels an odd sense of endearment to this girl. 

“Yeah,” She responds with a wry grin, “I should hope so. I am a star, after all.” 

And again, they both laugh. 

-

Aleksander didn’t intend to keep her with him for so long. He didn’t intend to introduce her to his friends - to his connections, to the people across the country who help him with his work. He didn’t intend to get her involved. But they’ve been travelling together for three months and in that time, he’s discovered a wide array of things. 

The first is that she’s good with a sword. Perhaps good is an understatement. She has a natural balance about her, maybe it’s her celestial nature, but watching her with a sword is like watching art. The handle sits in her palm with an easy weight, she swings it with an air of freedom and lax, yet with complete control. The blade is, undoubtedly, hers. 

They had discovered her penchant for swords in a rather unfortunate situation. They had been a touch careless. He was feeling more secure with someone else travelling at his side. And so, had paid less attention to his surroundings. If there was one con of her having her around, it was that she was a touch of a distraction. 

They had passed through a village. They stayed to briefly eat lunch sitting in the town square, and then had gone to pass on just as quick as they came. It shouldn’t have drawn attention. But it did. 

They hadn’t noticed the group of men watching them, looks of disdain on their features as they eyed up the two of them, mumbling to one another. They’d managed to avoid trouble so far, steering clear of Druskelle and negative situations, but on that day, something had given them away as both travellers and Grisha. It was hard to say what - perhaps it was the way they murmured and laughed quietly with one another, maybe the tell-tale way his hands moved. Perhaps he’d been careless and a slip of shadow had been noticed. They couldn’t say for certain. But these men, standing and sneering, they knew.

Either way, Y/N and Aleksander were followed back to where they were camping out by the night. It was just a clearing off the main path they were following, and they had been very comfortably sitting, eating, laughing as they did each and every evening, lit by firelight and accompanied by the low hum of bugs and the weather slowly turning cold. She noticed the figures first.

They seemed to come out of nowhere, far enough away that she could tap his shoulder with a quiet, “Leonid. There’s people.” 

His brow furrowed softly, and he turned over his shoulder in the direction she was looking at. Three men, two shorter, one that was a bit taller and lagged behind - all three variously armed. One man - short, dirty blonde hair and a face marred by smudges of dirt - carried a small dagger. The second, slightly taller with a slightly more muscular frame, had dark hair that was greying at the roots, a knife, and a snarl. The third and final man, the tallest of the lot was passive, but his eyes glinted in the firelight with nothing malevolence, and in his goliath hand was a sword. 

The man with the dark hair speaks first, accented and gruff, his eyes pinned to Aleksander, “Grisha, aren’t you?” he asks the question in a way that betrays he already knows the answer. 

Aleksander doesn’t answer. He’s careful. Delicate. She’s sitting behind him, watching the interaction, hesitant to move. He needs to think this through in a way that puts Y/N out of harm's way. His eyes never leave the men. 

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye - the second man, wielding his dagger up quickly, his movements fueled by disgust. Aleksander’s quicker, raising his hand with two fingers pointed up, creating a wall of shadow which the dagger clashes against, and in that moment he’s scrambled up to his feet, grabbing Y/N by the arm and pulling her up with him. He runs. 

He’s not used to running. He’s used to fighting. But at the moment he’s responsible for two people’s safety, and so he pushes forward, yelling at her to go. He expected the men to follow. He didn’t expect the largest to go after her, the three men separating into groups of one and two. The two come after him, dagger and knife, and he has little time to worry about Y/N before they’re gaining, 

Aleksander’s efficient, his hands move fast to bring forth his shadows, forming sharp points which pierce the chests of the two men with harsh crunches, their weapons dropping into the grass as their bodies go limp, blood drooling from their mouths as the light leaves their eyes. 

He breathes a sigh of relief, but then he’s alert again at the sound of someone crying out from behind him. His head whips around, and he sees Y/N, and the largest man. He’s backing her up against the tree line, she’s almost frozen in fear when she trips over her own feet and onto her back. Her eyes widen, the man leers over her, sword readied and in a brief moment of fear and desperation she rears her legs and kicks his knees. 

The man grunts, hisses in pain as the sword drops from his hand so he can clutch at where she kicked him. Amateur. And in the next instant she’s lunged across the ground for the sword, where he dropped it, scrambling for it. She’s still on the floor, and she turns onto her back as the man’s attention is brought to her again, large hands reaching to cause her harm. 

The sound of the sword cutting into the man is almost deafening. She does it without thinking, pure survival instinct as she cuts the man's stomach, her hands firm on the handle as blood coats them both, her breathing heavy as she pulls the sword out and the man falls back, dying slowly. 

She’s frozen, and Aleksander’s eyes are almost as wide as hers. He takes a few loose footsteps towards her, a few more which are a bit firmer before he’s by her side, kneeling beside her and cleaning the blood off her cheeks with his sleeve, gently taking the sword from her iron grip and laying it beside her. 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, and it feels stupid. She’s covered in blood, shaking, tears in her eyes and the only thing he can think to ask is ‘are you okay’? Saints, he’s an idiot. 

He moves on, still wiping the blood off her as well as he can as she nods her head shakily, “It’s alright. You’re alright.” He says quietly. He remembers the first time he killed someone - the guilt, the fear, the horror at yourself. He frowns softly, as the thin shine of tears comes to her eyes and she looks away. 

Without thinking about it much more, he picks her up, scooping her into his arms, hooking the back of her knees over his arm as she turns and curls into his chest, her crying quiet and barely audible as he carries her back to their camp. 

-

After that, things are different. They’re closer, in a way.

Y/N keeps the sword, keeps it tucked by her side, takes care of the metal and the handle. She’s good with it, he knows for a fact, and he feels more comfortable knowing she has a means of handling herself. The emotional toll of the murder hit her hard. Perhaps, she thinks, she wasn’t meant to feel emotions like this. Her very existence is in conflict. She’s not meant to be able to feel this way, she’s meant to be a star for Saint’s sake! 

But there is something so very human in the guilt she carried in the days after the attack. She was quiet, much quieter than she usually was. At first, she was hesitant to carry the sword. So, instead he carried it for her, catching her eyes flickering towards it occasionally, the way it swung by his hip and the metal caught in the sun. 

One evening as they walked, she offered to take it instead. 

“Do you want me to take that?” she had said, a quiet, unspoken I think I’m okay now. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, “It’s not heavy, I’m okay to carry it for as long as-” 

“No, I’m sure.” She nodded, her look determined and firm, “My safety shouldn’t be your responsibility alone.” She explained, “We should be responsible for one another if we’re going to be travelling together. And I can’t do that if I’m unarmed.” 

He nodded in understanding, and softly unhooked the sword and the holder, and offered the handle to her. She took it, measuring the weight in her palm, before she put the holder on herself and slipped the sword into it. She took a breath. 

He spoke first, “I should tell you something, Y/N. Y’know, if we’re going to be stuck together for a while, I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” he said. 

She didn’t respond, simply nodded and waited for him to say what he had to say. 

“My name isn’t Leonid, I lied. I’ve spent most of my life having to conceal who I am, what I am, and so I hope you can understand and forgive my deception.” He paused, breathing relief into the night air, “My name is Aleksander.” 

“Aleksander?” She echoes, and a small, intimate smile finds her features, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aleksander.” She says, in that half-teasing tone he’s become so accustomed with.

He rolls his eyes but can’t fight back the grin, “You’re an ass, do you know that?” 

“Ah, you may have mentioned it once or twice.” She shrugs, unable to wipe off that teasing smile from her features. 

He huffs in mock exasperation before his tone turns softer. He’s found he has a habit of doing that. Something about her makes him better, gentler. He almost feels human around her, “I mean it Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you, especially for so long.” 

“It’s fine,” she says with a small smile, nudging his shoulder, “You’re forgiven, if that eases your conscience.” She’s still slightly teasing, but her tone is mostly compassionate. Endearing, even. 

“Thank you,” he says, grinning as he nudges her back, “Saints, you’re insufferable.” 

She gasps, dramatically feigning offence. For a star, she’s caught onto the culture of sarcasm and drama rather well, and he laughs at her display, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they walk. It feels right. 

“How are you finding it?” He asks, as they walk, “y’know, being human? Is it weird?” He checks in on her this way every now and then to make sure she’s not overwhelmed. But this is the first time she answers differently. 

“...As a star…” She sighed softly, weighing up her words, “You’re constantly watching. You’re up there, watching all these little people have adventures and lives and romance, and it’s… it’s yearning. You want those things too, y’know? You want to be flesh and bone as well, to feel emotion. To cry, and be happy, and be angry, and to know what love feels like. You want adventure, the big things in life like… meeting someone. Or having a family. Or getting an education. Making a difference.” She laughed softly, “But you also want the little things - like cake, for example. And music, and friendship, and to share meals with people you care about.” 

She glanced at him, and then back to the path, “I’m glad you found me. I don’t think anyone else would’ve done such a good job at making me feel welcome in a world that isn’t strictly mine.” 

Her words were soft, quiet, and sincere. And it made Aleksander’s heart stutter in his chest, but he kept his composure and managed, “I’m glad I found you too.” 

-

Aleksander takes her to a place he calls ‘the sanctuary’. 

He explains it to her on the way there - a building, a place, where Grisha can support, aid and train other Grisha. 

It’s been months since they first met, and by now the warm comfort of the summer is fading, replaced by cold golden sunlight and browned leaves, wetter grounds and harsher gales. And so, he takes her there.

The sanctuary is a medium-sized, pale stone structure, hidden away in the middle of nowhere, concealed by thick woods and trees. It’s squat, but wide, the front of it gives away nothing but a set of rounded wooden doors. He takes her hand - she’s not even sure he realises that he’s done it - and guides her with him to the front. Her sword swings at her side as she follows, standing beside him as he raps his knuckles on the wooden door a few times. 

The door opens a crack, she can’t see who’s on the other side, but Aleksander’s gaze meets theirs and they open it. On the other side is a man, short brown hair and green eyes. He’s rather skinny, but his strength is held in his eyes. He lets Aleksander in without issue, nodding his head softly. Their hands are still linked together and so, she goes to follow. 

But the brown haired man stops her, a hand coming to her chest to halt her, his eyes narrowed and dark, glancing back at Aleksander. He answers, “She’s with me, Andrei.” 

“Grisha?” The man interrogates. 

Aleksander huffs, “No, Andrei. But she’s been helping me for the past five months, let her through.” 

Andrei’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and he glances at Aleksander finally before letting his hand drop and allowing her entrance. She nods her head softly, and follows after Aleksander. Y/N feels him squeeze her hand, a quiet apology. She squeezes back as he guides her deeper into the sanctuary. They pass rooms, beds, people who nod at him as they pass and whose eyebrows furrow when they see her trailing after him, and her stark white hair. 

Inside, the sanctuary was busy. It was filled with the hum of people working, all in various clothing - some injured, some healing, some cooking, some reading, teaching, training - it was almost a wonderful study in the kindness of human nature and community that had her eyes widening. 

“Are you alright, Zvezda?” he asked softly, turning back to her over his shoulder, “Are you overwhelmed? We can…” 

“No, it’s… it’s wonderful.” She said quietly, her wide eyes meeting his, “I mean- it’s astounding. I’m good.” she nodded, indicating for him to keep going, “It’s just… in all our time travelling, I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

He laughed softly, pulling her closer by her hand, “I guess,” he grinned, “I’m proud of this place. I’m glad you can see it like that.” 

They spend at least three weeks at the Sanctuary. 

Aleksander takes his time to introduce Y/N to those around her. He shows her around to all the Healers, the Heartrenders, the Inferni, the Squalors, Tidemakers - technically, he shows her off to everyone. But no one knows, really, who - or what - she is. He doesn’t say. People press and ask and inquire, “Oh, what’s her Grisha order?” “Grisha, are you?” And everytime, one of them answers, “Oh, uh, No.” and refuse to elaborate further. 

It has the entire building utterly perplexed as to who this strange white haired girl is, and why she has the Shadow Summoner wrapped around her little finger. Not that The Star or The Shadow Summoner can see it, no, they’re completely oblivious. They don’t see how they’re quiet giggles, teasing, conversations might be perceived as intimate. Nor how the amount of time they spend together might be seen as suspicious.

But when you’ve spent everyday with a person for just over five months, all day, everyday, it’s very hard to separate yourself from the comfort they bring.

The confession comes late at night. 

Now that they’re in a place like the Sanctuary, they have their own rooms. They’re only small, and they’re a short walk away from one another, and it gives them each a privacy they haven’t experienced for a few months. For the first week - it’s nice. Having their own beds, their own time, being able to spend some of it alone with their thoughts. 

He notices it first. That he’s restless. It’s late at night, most of the building is asleep save for those on night watch, and he can barely close his eyes without feeling disturbed. He feels the need to do something - anything - and so, he gets out of bed, slipping back on his boots at the end of his bed and deciding he’s going to go for a walk. Maybe it’ll help clear his mind. 

Aleksander’s almost embarrassed. He can’t… he can’t stop thinking of her. He’s annoyed at himself for it, for letting him get that close, for letting him be so vulnerable to someone who wasn’t even human, who had a child’s grasp on the world… 

No, that was being unfair. He calms himself as he steps out of his room. He knows he’s just agitated, tired, a little giddy, and he takes a deep breath as he starts off down the corridor, careful not to let his boots thud too heavily. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he decides he’s just going to walk until he comes across something distracting or gets tired. 

His feet take him to her room. 

It’s the same size as his, and from the crack in the door he can tell she’s still awake, can hear a slight shuffling inside, candle light flickering on the floor. He realises now, why he’s there. What he’s come to do. And his heart lurches in his chest, but he understands that it’s now or hold his tongue for another few months and he doesn’t want to do that. 

Aleksander wants her to know about the Y/N shaped cavern she’s carved into his life. He wants her to know about how all those nights spent travelling in fields were not something he was willing to give up so easily - that when spring came he hoped to do it all again. With her. That he thinks of her endlessly. That when he wakes he hopes she’s still sleeping beside him, just a campfire away. And he wants her closer. He wants her. It’s as simple as that, that he wants to see her smile at him, and laugh - he doesn’t care if it’s at him or with him - Saints, he just wants her happy. 

The revelation comes to him, standing so close to her yet so far, on her bedroom doorstep. He takes a breath, steels himself to the sound of her soft humming from the other side of the door, and then raises his fist and knocks three times. 

By the first knock, the humming stops. By the second, she’s walking over to the door, he can hear her footsteps. And by the third, the handle is turning. The door opens and he lowers his hand. She’s standing on the other side. Of course it was her, he knew it was her. It doesn’t stop his heart from thudding against his ribs, nor his breath hitching quietly. 

The light from the candle makes her seem fully celestial, casting a golden hue across her features, and darkening half her face to accentuate them. It bounces off her silver hair, catching in the strands like a contained forest fire. 

“Aleksander?” Y/N greets softly, a small amused smile as she tilts her head in soft confusion, her brow furrowing. 

“Zvezda,” He greets softly, his eyes catching in the candle, so dark you can barely separate the pupil from the iris, “Can’t sleep?”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, beckoning him in with her hand, “Always got more energy during the night,” she sighs, “And it’s taking some getting used to, not sleeping in a field, not waking up…” next to you. 

But she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, he simply hums in agreement and shuts the door behind him, leaning on it, “I know, it’s a big adjustment.” He runs a hand through his long dark hair, “How are you finding the Sanctuary?” 

“It’s nice,” she says softly, briefly fixing her words in a slight hurry, “Sorry, that sounded- it’s lovely. The people are kind, the community is wonderful, food’s much better than bread and cheese and meats,” She grins, “No offence.”

He laughs, his nose wrinkling with the action, “None taken. In fact, I completely agree.” 

She sits on her bed as they talk, tucking her legs underneath her, “Can’t sleep either?” She probes.  

Aleksander shakes his head as well, “No, feeling restless. Same reasons as you.” He admits, feeling a bit more at ease with the slight indication that the comfort they feel around one another may be mutual, “I guess,” he sighs, bracing himself to admit it, “We spent so long together. A week was fine - but it’s weird. I keep on… waking up and expecting to see you.” 

“I know,” she agreed quietly with a small laugh, her head bent down to her hands in her lap, “it’s strange, isn’t it? I feel weird not… walking with you, or doing something, seeing a new town or whatnot. And I have this feeling.” She frowned softly to herself.

He tilts his head, folds his arms, “What feeling, Zvezda?” He asks, his brow furrowing gently. 

“I… I don’t know.” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked not quite at him - but just over his shoulder - “It’s like… this…tightness.” her hand came to her chest, her nose scrunching softly, “Here. Like… nausea. But not quite - I’m not going to be sick. And I can feel my heart. And it… it feels like wanting. But stronger?” 

His eyes widened a fraction, “And uh, when do you feel it?” 

She tilted her head, her eyes zeroing in on him in confusion and uncertainty, “When…” when I think about you. “Oh.” She said quietly, “Is that what that is?” her hand gently rubbed her chest, clearly where she felt it strongest, a sheepish laugh as she turned her eyes to the candle, anywhere but him, “They don’t describe it like this in the books.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that he wouldn’t have to explain to her that what she was feeling was, at least, a crush. If not more. Aleksander laughed softly, “No, no they do not.” 

Y/N laughed too, mildly embarrassed and still somewhat avoiding looking at him, her hands fidgeting, “Look, I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be.” he cut her off, “Don’t be, please don’t be, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He cleared his throat and took a sharp breath, standing up from leaning on the door, “It’s… it’s  mutual, Y/N.” and he took a hesitant step towards her, “Zvezda.” He said the nickname to get her attention. 

It worked, her head turning slightly, and he continued, “Please don’t ever apologise for having feelings.” He said, his tone so much softer than he was comfortable with, “You’re a human now.” he laughed a little, crouching down in front of her as she sat on the bed, “It’s your job now. To feel. To make the most of life. So,” he said with a playful shrug, “we both have… crushes on one another.” It felt childish to say ‘crushes’ but he couldn’t think of a better word. 

“I mean…” he sighed softly, “That’s kind of… why I came here.” He confessed. 

“Really?” she asked quietly, watching him intently as he spoke. 

“Really.” he echoed, standing up. She patted the bed beside her for him to sit, and he gratefully took it, glad she was taking this all so well and she wasn’t clamming up about their feelings for one another, “Look, Y/N, Zvezda. You’ve changed my life,” he said with a small laugh of disbelief, “I mean… you’re a Star, for Saint’s sake. You are, by nature, brilliant. And you’ve been nothing short of that in the months we’ve been travelling. Even if your humour is appalling.” He softly teased, earning a playful grumble of, “It is not.” from her. 

“It is!” he insisted with a teasing grin, “You laugh at all my bad jokes, dear.” 

“Yeah well,” her initial embarrassment was beginning to fade as they engaged in their usual banter, “I think that says more about you for making the bad jokes.” to which he scoffed, and she dispersed into laughter, the two of them leaning back on the single bed. 

The laughter lasted a moment longer before fading out with a soft, content sigh. He grinned at her from where he was, a hand reaching forward for hers as he softly, half-teasingly, murmured, “You’re doing it again.” 

“Doing what?” “Shining, Zvezda.” 

“What can I say?” she laughed quietly, her head finding his shoulder, “I’m happy.”

A/N: I cannot wait to go to bed. And also to start part two. Goodnight!! <;3

#Last Words of A Shooting Star AU #Stardust AU #the darkling X reader #Shadow And bone X reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #stardust au #thebigsl33p

[ethereal-blossom]

Hellooooo, i just saw your 2k milestone, and congratssss I'm so proud of youuu＾▽＾, and coming to my request, could you write the letters C, G, and X for Jouno please, I love him sm >.<

THANK YOU <3333 You don't know how big my smile is right now >.< Also, thank you for giving me the opportunity to write for a hunting dog! I have been wanting to start since forever but felt too scared to explore their characters. I hope this does your Jouno justice <3

(C) Cuddles = Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

Jouno keeps his cool demeanor up about cuddles, but he secretly loves them. While he would not initiate them, Jouno loves it when you start them. He loves seeing how much affection you have towards him, and I like to think Jouno is extra sensitive to touch because of how super developed his senses are due to his lack of sight. Imagine lying on your futon with him, trailing his bare-skinned backbone, and this man is trying his hardest not to shiver under your touch. Jouno loves that the second he cuddles you back, he can hear your heartbeat quicken and the blood rushing to your cheeks. He gets high on that. When you hug Jouno in public, he will not fully hug you back but one of the things he can do is place a hand on your arm, trying his hardest to fight a smile, but everybody can see Jouno's expression turns softer. He also leans the tiniest bit into you, making it known to only you that he appreciates it.

(G) Gentle= How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally?

Since Jouno has a soft spot for you, you are the person he easily is the most gentle with. He still is someone who does not hide and sugarcoat his thoughts, but everybody can tell his usually sharp words turn softer when directed towards you. Although gentleness is not an emotion that comes natural to him, or an emotion he can effortlessly show, he puts effort in it for you. You can paint a smile on your face that will trick the whole world you are fine, but Jouno cannot be fooled by a mirage. If you are pretending not to be scared or stressed while your heart is working over-hours pumping your blood, Jouno knows how to get your mind off those things.

Physically... In the beginning, his touches might feel a little bit awkward because of how foreign such intimate touch is to Jouno, but it feels like he is almost always subtly teasing you which drives you crazy. Minors, I am friendly asking you to skip this last part and go to the last letter because nsfw warning, but in bed he is, uhum, less gentle. More like a dom with a small sadistic smile. Can edge you for hours, loves seeing tears of frustration run down your flushed cheeks as you just want release, has a hand around your throat, and only when he thinks you have worked hard for it by begging and looking like such a pretty thing does he finally give it to you with a rough pace and not stopping until you are overstimulated <3

(X) Xtra = A random headcanon for them!

Jouno knows your body better than you do yourself. Do you know those moments you are stressed but you don't even realize it? Or feel different but can't pinpoint what you are exactly feeling? It are such moments that even when you don't know, your boyfriend does.

He is so familiar with the sound of your body that he can locate you in a crowd.

When Jouno gets sensory overload, he focuses all his senses on you to drown out all the overstimulation.

2K celebration: fluff alphabet event

#jouno x reader #jouno x you #saigiku jōno #bsd x reader

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: Finally it’s chapter 7 of our Harry Potter/Addams family crossover. Not as long as future parts but sssh we’re getting there. Don’t forget to read your letter and intro!! 

Masterlist     Series Masterlist     Series Intro     Your Hogwarts Letter First Year

Chapter Seven ~ The Ceremony

A tall, rather regal woman greeted them at the entrance. She was slim and elegant, and reminded (Y/N) of those ghosts of beautiful women who suffered a tragic death and haunted the halls of their manors at night, the ones from only the finest works of literature; graceful and poised and full of wisdom beyond words. “Good evening,” she said in a refined Scottish accent, immediately demanding the attention of everyone in the room, “I am deputy headmistress McGonagall. Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses.”

(Y/N) listened as she took in her surroundings. The grey stone walls were intricately carved, flaming torches casting shadows, statues of armoured knights stood high above the entrance, and a chilly draft breezing in – oh yes, this would surely feel like home.

“The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily.” McGonagall announced, before excusing herself.

The deputy headmistress slipped through the grand doors, and for a moment everyone was silent. And then the murmuring started. “Are you nervous?” (Y/N) asked Ron and Harry as she fiddled with her tie.

“A little,” said Ron, “I’ll be in Gryffindor, with any luck.”

The three chatted for a minute, until they were rudely interrupted. “So it’s true then, what they were saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.” The boy standing before them was pale and blond, and had an air of arrogance about him; a certain look in his eye that said he wanted to be taken seriously. (Y/N) could respect that, but the stench of his arrogance far overpowered any other personality traits he might have. She didn’t like that – arrogance was stupid and anyone possessing such a belief of their own superiority was even more a fool. No, (Y/N) didn’t take a liking to this boy – not one bit. “This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I’m Malfoy… Draco Malfoy.” The name was familiar to her.

Ron snickered, who could really blame him? His name was as pretentious as him.

Malfoy looked displeased. “Think my name’s funny do you? No need to ask yours – red hair and a hand-me-down robe, you must be a Weasley.” He spat, looking Ron up and down with distaste.  The nerve. “You’ll soon find some wizarding families are better than others – don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” He said to Harry, holding out his hand to shake.

(Y/N) was about two seconds from standing between them and slapping this boy in his stupid face, no matter how highly he thinks of himself. She’d just opened her mouth to throw him a belittling and no doubt devastating insult when Harry came up with his own response. “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.”

Malfoy shot her a glare when she let out a snort, lazily hiding her snickers behind her hand. She knew she liked Harry for a reason. The look on Malfoy’s face was priceless.

The boy seemed like he was about to say something, when he was tapped on the shoulder by McGonagall – who would’ve thought she was so light on her feet? “They are ready for you now.” She addressed the room.

The nerves began, everyone felt it.

(Y/N) had hardly been so nervous in her life. As the grand doors opened to reveal the Great Hall in all its splendour, (Y/N) could only bring herself to appreciate its beauty for a few moments, before she was reminded of the task at hand. The first years were huddled further into the room, grouped together in an uncomfortable swarm, whoever tried to make their way in slowly was soon forced along by eager students. Pupils sat at every table gossiped amongst themselves as Professor McGonagall began to call out names to be sorted, cheering when someone was placed in their house. She knew that whichever house she was placed in would bring pride to her family, in their eyes she could do no wrong – but that wasn’t what nerved her; what if she didn’t fit in well? What if they treated her differently because she was an Addams? Or worse, what if she was put in the wrong house?

They walked down between the tables in a giant huddle, students eyeing them up and guessing who would fit where. Behind her, (Y/N) could hear a girl talking about the ceiling, and looked up to be amazed at the night sky above. Hundreds of lit candles floated in the air, filling the room with warm light. As they reached the front of the room, the huddle of first years came to a stop by some stairs. Before the staff table was a little stool, a wrinkly old leather hat sat atop looking a few centuries overdue a good polish.

After they all settled, Professor McGonnagal announced that the headmaster would be making a speech – as curious as she was, (Y/N) wasn’t all that interested in what the mysterious old man had to say; her feet hurt and she was far too eager to be sorted, bats fluttered her stomach with nerves and anticipation.

…“Note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students.” Said the wizard, giving a pointed look to some boys at the Gryffindor table. “Also our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death.” He said, then gave a smile and a nod, and sat back down.

Many students looked rather serious as they contemplated his words, but Harry, she noticed, seemed quite horrified. “Probably nothing to worry about,” (Y/N) leaned over to whisper, doing her best to reassure him, “we have some rooms like that back home too.”

Though it seemed to have the opposite affect she was hoping for.

One by one each new student was sorted alphabetically, the sentient hat calling out houses and chatting briefly. (Y/N) was hardly that surprised. she’d seen stranger things – she lived with a living, crawling, disembodied hand for goodness sake. Very soon she knew her name would be called out.

“Addams, (Y/N).” Called McGonnagal, searching for the girl’s face. Whispered bounced around immediately, no doubt gossiping about the eldest Addams heir and whatever rumours they’d heard.

Giving one last look to Ron and Harry, (Y/N) was glad to see them smiling at her as she went. Walking up the carpet covered steps, she took a seat and tried to savour the moment of her first and only sorting. The hat was placed on her head just over her eyes and the hat began to talk about all the things in her head – it was rather invasive, actually.

“Oh, an Addams, eh? Hm yes, it’s been a while. Let’s see…” Said the hat, in a gruff voice, rummaging about her brain no doubt. “Loyal like Hufflepuff, oh yes, open-minded… no no, not quite.”

Was it really so hard to figure her out?

“Some Gryffindor bravery in there, that’s for sure. Playful and stubborn, that’s true… hmmm… Ah! Intelligent, yes. And curious, witty – very wise old soul you are. Yes, I know where you belong, Rav--”

He paused. And so did her wildly beating heart. “Oh… I see, what’s this? Brimming with ambition. And something else… That’s it. Slytherin!”

Not many faces in the room seemed so surprised, the Slytherin table clapped the loudest, everyone whispering still; but (Y/N) was disappointed to see her new friends gossiping too, not all too pleased about her placement. As she rose to find somewhere to sit at her new table, (Y/N) tried not to think on it too much. She could just be imagining it, they were shocked is all.

There were mixed emotions about the Slytherin table; some where pleased to have a new student with them, others wary of her name. The plain look on her face may not have helped her case. She could feel the rumours brewing already.

Though the feast was grand enough to suit a king, (Y/N) ate somewhat solemnly at her table. She watched from across the hall as her new friends mingled joyfully at the Gryffindor table, all smiles and laughs, while she sat feeling rather iced-out. Every few minutes she could feel people glancing her way; the students either side of her left as much space between them as they could spare, and hardly a single person wanted to speak with her.

It was rather annoying.

Though she couldn’t say she was too surprised, after all, this sort of treatment wasn’t alien to her. So, she straightened her posture, held her head high, and ate as normal, hardly sparing a single thought for the people around her – as an Addams should.

Friends were overrated anyway.

This was just another school, so she would do what she always did. In true Addams fashion, (Y/N) was going to be as unapologetically herself as she was raised to be.

Tag List: Please let me know if you want to be tagged (or if you’ve been miss-tagged/changed your tag)

@boyaddams​

@too-attached-to-fiction​

@kpopgirlbtssvt​

@lady-of-lies​

@twsssmlmaa​

@asadbisexual1​

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@menkisser69420​

@soggumm​

@i-need-anything-holy

#harry potter x reader #harry potter golden era x reader #harry potter x addams family #xaddams!reader #x reader #x y/n #harry potter golden era #golden era x reader #harry potter au #addams family #wednesday addams x reader #Addams family x reader #addams family crossover #(y/n) addams #harry potter addams family crossover #x addams!reader #the curious misadventures of y/n addams #harry potter crossover #Addams family Hogwarts au #x slytherin!reader #griffindor x slytherin #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter fanfiction x reader

[yourplasticpal]

The Metatron and the Divine Clockmaker

I can't be the first to think of this, I'm never that quick on the uptake, but I haven't seen it for myself - that I remember - between bouts of hyperfixating at tumblr and then running away, so ... here goes, for whatever it's worth.

I've been pondering for awhile when exactly I think God stopped talking, and left everyone to their own devices. The leading contender after season 2 was immediately after the whale "conversation" with Job. Maybe She got tired of not being appreciated "properly", in the way She wanted to be, and fucked off in a huff.

With more thought, I'm starting to wonder if we're dealing more with the Divine Clockmaker theory of the universe. As in, God setting all the pieces of the machine in place and then sitting back to let it run, from the very beginning. What if the pieces God specifically placed were the angels themselves, them and the plans they were given, and then She hid somewhere unknowable to let the show riff along on Her established framework? Or hid somewhere in plain sight, for that matter. As an angel, even. Saraqael? That's probably a stretch, but you see what I'm getting at.

Maybe the Metatron - who presumably had a different name at the time - saw looming disorder and disaster in the absence of a guiding force, saw the number of angels who were starting to question things and not get on with their work as they should, and he just ... decided to be the Metatron. Decided he knew better. The ultimate hubris.

I am the Voice of God now, She speaks through me and only me. Orders from on high. Don't worry about it.

But he isn't God. He isn't omnipotent, or all-knowing, or all-seeing. He can't hold all of Creation and every plan for it within himself, his big giant head isn't built for that. He doesn't know the Ineffable Plan, he can't, and it's only a matter of time before someone notices the Great Plan isn't quite the same thing, and doesn't make any damn sense.

Being the bully and the big fat fraud that he is, he's extremely sensitive to being questioned, to being found out.

Enter Crowley, that particular thorn in his side, with his "damn fool questions" and his refusal to just give up and stop asking, even when God is "unavailable" to address his concerns.

What if it was the Metatron putting on a voice the entire time?

What if the Fall was never part of God's plan, but the Metatron making sure everybody was too afraid to ever question him again?

What if "God" went on and on about whales because the Metatron maintained an interest and influence in the team he was originally made for, creating non-human life (or sea life at least), and the whales were his particular favorite?

In this scenario, I'd say he's damn lucky Crowley's love for Aziraphale wasn't enough to lure him blindly into Heaven, because either the two of them together would have immediately sussed everything and brought it down around his ears, or the Metatron would have succeeded in "accidentally" doing away with Crowley when he thought it was safe, and Aziraphale in his grief would have ripped the Metatron's entire existence apart with his teeth.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens speculation #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #are they gonna end up running Heaven and Hell respectively #from a cottage in the South Downs

[beneathstarryskies]

Day 4: Praise Kink - Raditz

Warnings: lots of praise, handjob, penetration (p+v), fem!reader

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @actuallysaiyan, @loki-love

Raditz is lounging in the bathtub. His long hair spills over the back of the tub, and his leg is propped up on the side as an example of how ill-fitting he was but still determined to enjoy the simple pleasure of a bath after a long day of training. You’re kneeling by the tub while washing him and being careful to avoid agitating the bruises he got during the rough sparring session with Goku and Vegeta. He’s a little agitated right now. His jaw is set tight in frustration. 

“They’ve come so far,” he growls. “I can’t believe I’ve fallen so far behind! I can’t help that I was dead!” 

“You’ll catch up, love,” you say with a sweet smile.  

“Hmph,” he grunts. “Easy for you to say. You’re not out there being made a fool of.” 

“You’re not a fool,” you kiss his cheek. “Remember, when you first came to earth, Goku had to sacrifice himself just to defeat you. You’re strong. You’ll work hard, and catch up.” 

“You think I’m strong?” Raditz asks, and lays his head so he can look at you with a smug grin. You know now what he wants, and you’re happy to give it to him. 

“Look at you! Of course I think you’re so big and strong,” you drag your hands across his broad chest then rake your nails down the ridges of his muscular abdomen. “Just look at all these big muscles.” 

He purrs excitedly and you can see the pink tip of his cock start to poke through the bubbles of his bath. 

“I bet you like how big I am,” he offers, urging you to continue. 

“I love it. Especially when you carry me in your big strong arms,” you coo softly and kiss his cheek. Then you whisper in his ear, “And when you hold me down to fuck me, and I can’t even try to get away.” 

He purrs as his eyes widen. 

“Come on, let’s get you out of the bath.” 

You grab a big, fluffy towel and begin drying him off. A sweet smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you look up at him. 

“You’re so handsome,” you tell him and stand up on your tiptoes to kiss him. His tail flicks happily when you try to pull away, it wraps around your waist to pull you closer. His erection presses against your tummy. “And you’re so responsive,” you say with a slight teasing lilt to your voice. 

“But you like that?” he asks, hopeful to receive even more praise. 

“Of course I do,” you kiss him again and again. “It’s so fun to get you riled up.” 

His tail stays wrapped around your waist so his hands are free to touch you. And touch you he does, all over. He squeezes your hips and your ass as he leans in to kiss you passionately. 

“Mm, you’re such a good kisser too,” you say against his lips. “And your big hands always feel so good on my body.” 

He finally allows you to finish drying him off, and you sit him down so you can brush his hair. As you work the brush through his long hair, you continue showering him in praise. You tell him how handsome he is and how much you love taking care of him this way. The entire time his tail flicks excitedly, and he palms his cock. When you say something he likes in particular, he lets out a soft purr. Once you set the brush aside, he pulls you onto his lap. 

“I want to show you how much I appreciate your praise,” he growls as he pushes his hand down your pants to tease you. 

“Only if you promise to be a good boy,” you giggle. 

“I think we both know I’ll be bad,” he nips at your neck. 

“You’re lucky that you’re so good at being bad.”

#kinktober2023🎃 #raditz x reader #dbz fics

[thesensteawitch]

Full Moon In Aries Guidance (29th September, 2023)🌝🔥

Pick A Pile Reading

Take A Deep Breath And Choose!

(Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, Senstea Souls!

I hope you're all doing great. This is a full moon reading that marks the beginning of Autumn Season. Pick a pile and read the message. It's a collective reading.

Take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Pile 1

Cards- 7 of cups, Temperance, 10 of pentacles, The World

Hello, my beautiful pile 1. This full moon is asking you to understand that what did not work out for you worked for you. You are somebody who has a lot of desires and wishes. You dream big. But because you have so many things that you want to achieve you feel frustrated. From your dream list, you may be able to act upon a few of them. And what frustrates you is the fact that you have to balance between things as you're handling so much at one time. And you also feel a lot of resentment towards yourself as there are wishes on the list that you aren't able to act upon yet. See my dear pile 1 the message is that you can do anything but not EVERYTHING! You have to let go of the controlling attitude. You can't control everything that happens in your life. The reason why your wish did not come true is because God/Source was protecting you. So this full moon, work on letting go of past achievements and failures. Do one thing at a time. Focus! Communicating with your family or friends may be of help. I see that your family is always there for you. It can be blood family or your soul family. Your life is demanding you to start a new chapter but you are a bit hesitant. A thought of somebody or something important to you is stopping you from starting this new journey. Some of you may need to move out of town or start your own business. You need to heal yourself to heal the situation. This is not the time to put bandaids on the bullet holes. Do not start this journey wounded. Give yourself time to heal. Go for a vacation or do something exciting at your home. Journal about what you truly feel.

I am sending letters to people who need healing and guidance. Drop a ‘🩷’ or ‘Letter’ in the comments and I will drop a message in your Tumblr inbox. The letter will only cost $2.

Pile 2

Cards- 9 of swords, 10 of swords, The Magician, 9 of wands

Hello, my dear pile 2. First of all, tell me how are you doing? For a minute I went silent looking at your cards. I am sorry but it pissed me off. There are serious self-worth issues here! And I mean it! It's SERIOUS! What on earth are you thinking? You're doubting the vision you have for yourself, someone you are capable of becoming in the future. I see that you also struggle with money. My heart is with you pile 2. You can be the magician of your life. But you're disappointed because people are not even appreciating all the magic you have created till now. But who needs others to validate our magic? You need to have faith in your capabilities first. Believe me when I say this, your mind is your greatest enemy right now. It's fooling you and you're letting it! Your soul, heart, and mind must be your allies, not enemies. This full moon is asking you to release the hurt that you and someone else have inflicted upon you. My advice is to surrender to the divine and have faith in his plans. Keep doing the right thing, keep performing your magic. Don't put so much pressure on your shoulders. Listen to your higher self. You already are who you think you should be. I don't know why but I am also getting the message that you need to start focusing on making yourself financially strong. This full moon you need to make a long-term plan for your career. And allow yourself to genuinely rest. Take care of your health. I mean it! God bless you.

I am sending letters to people who need healing and guidance. Drop a ‘🩷’ or ‘Letter’ in the comments and I will drop a message in your Tumblr inbox. The letter will only cost $2.

Pile 3

Cards- 4 of cups, Queen of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, 7 of swords

Hello, my beautiful pile 3. So this full moon in Aries you're asked to get up from your work table and give a thought to the things that you have been ignoring. I see polarities here. Where everything seems good on the outside but is not. On the other hand, everything is good in your surroundings but your heart can't accept it. So to avoid confronting and seeing the truth of the situation you throw yourself into work. No doubt that you work hard. But now is not the time to keep working blindly as if there's nothing more to this world. Do not start a new project trying to excuse yourself. Your mind is tricking on you. This full moon ask yourself what is that you need to release. Your problem is that you do not even know what's there to release. You aren't allowing yourself to feel the hurt someone else has caused you. You can't see that your mind is tricking you. It's a coping mechanism. Your mind thinks that you won't be able to handle the truth so it is trying to put you in a delusion. It's time that you realize the truth and let it go. Forgive someone and move on. Use this time to reflect upon your life patterns and see what you're missing. There's a blessing in your cards. You are blessed. I also feel that you are very disciplined. I really admire that quality. But your subconscious needs your attention now.

I am sending letters to people who need healing and guidance. Drop a ‘🩷’ or ‘Letter’ in the comments and I will drop a message in your Tumblr inbox. The letter will only cost $2.

I hope you found this reading helpful.🐦

You can subscribe to my newsletter for free and receive helpful tips for Full Moon in Aries.

#full moon #full moon in aries #harvest moon #tarot readings #general reading #message for the collective #full moon reading #tarot reader #psychic #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #tarotblr #free tarot #aries full moon #the witch speaks

[hotgirlbedtimescenarios]

Chapter 2: Taste

Javier Peña x f!reader / (4,750)

Summary: You flirt with the man next door, and your legs end up around his shoulders. Bar fights, smut, and Javier Peña; what else does a chapter need?

Notes: Helllo, readers! I am so excited to be able to post Chapter 2 so soon. I'm having so much fun writing my first series! You finally get a taste ( hehe ) of the smut that will increasingly show up throughout the series. I encourage you to message me or comment below on what you did/did not like in this new chapter. I'm still figuring out this whole fac fiction writing process, so I'd appreciate any advice you could give me. And as always, my inbox is open to any requests for what you want to see in the upcoming chapters.

Disclaimer: This series is for adults only! (18+)

Warnings: fight scene and explicit sexual material

Without breaking eye contact with Javier in the window across you, you lift your hand to your chest and hook a finger under the strap of your tank top. You can feel the nerves swirling in your stomach, but before you talk yourself out of it, you slip your strap off your shoulder. Then, you reach across and do the same to the other.

Across the way, Javier’s eyes are pinned on you, unmoving. As you reach down with both hands and begin to lift your tank top over your head, you see his breath catch. Your shirt lifts overhead, exposing your black lace bra and the planes of your abdomen. You drop the shirt on the floor and wait for his reaction.

What you want to see is desire in his eyes, but he still stands there frozen with a hard-to-read expression on his face. Desperate for him to look at you like he did in the bar earlier tonight, you decide to keep going.

You hook your thumbs in your skirt's waistband to slowly shimmy it down your legs and step out. You stand back up with your body mostly exposed now, save for your bra and matching black lacey underwear.

You look back across the street, and to your delight, you see a change in his expression. Javier’s eyes travel down and back up your body with his brows knit together, and he takes a heaving breath that expands his broad chest, then exhales. From this distance, it's hard to be sure, but you think you see a world slip out between his lips as his fists bunch at his side.

The thought of him getting turned on from watching you brings heat to your skin. You feel your face flush and a vague ache between your legs.

Admittedly, you didn’t think very far ahead before you began whatever the hell kind of show you started putting on for the man next door. You could stop. You could end it right now before things go further and close the blinds. Or you could keep going to see if you can make Javier unravel at the sight of you.

Having aroused yourself just as much as you hoped to have done to Javier, you decide to keep going. The unabashed confidence you started with is starting to wane, however. Either because the buzz of the alcohol is beginning to fade or because this is the boldest thing you’ve ever done. You turn your back to the window, but you don’t leave. Instead, you reach around and undo the clasps of your bra and let it fall to the floor.

After a steeling breath, you turn around to face the window again, but your heart sinks when you notice Javier is no longer there. Across the street, his blinds are closed, and his lights are off, leaving you alone again.

Did you get the wrong idea? Was he not interested, and you just made a fool of yourself? Had you made him uncomfortable with what you'd just done? A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you realize things have gone terribly wrong. You reach up to snap the blinds closed and stand there momentarily.

You can't take back what you’ve done but can go to sleep and wake up tomorrow pretending like tonight never happened. You can avoid Javier like the plague and never open those blinds again. You think this to yourself as you turn out the lights and get into bed for the night.

Tossing and turning, you replay the night in your head to figure out where the hell things went wrong.

You should have known a man like that wasn’t interested in a girl 20 years younger. Yet, you could have sworn you sensed something between the two of you at the bar. It must have been your own attraction to him clouding your judgment.

You can’t believe his effect on you in those brief moments together. The sweep of his dark hair and the smell of whiskey on his breath. The velvet gruff of his voice and the piercing gaze of his soft and fierce brown eyes. Still thinking of Javier, eventually, you drift off to sleep.

Waking up the morning after was not pleasant, not at all. You aren’t hungover, but something far, far worse. The electricity of the night before was gone entirely, and you have a pit in your stomach thinking about what you did.

You feel so stupid for thinking that you could pull off something like that. You aren’t sure where the confidence came from facing a man like that. Yeah, you were tipsy, but it's hard for you to break out of your shell even then. Whatever it was, it's gone now. Back to your old self, shy and demure. Unsure of yourself and confused.

You let out a breath and kick those thoughts out of your head. Ready to move past the events of last night, you roll out of bed and pad across the bedroom into your bathroom. You turn on the shower and step into the hot water, letting it wash away your troubles. Even after washing your hair and scrubbing your body, you stand there until the bite of the warm water fades and starts to cool. Eventually, you turn the water off and step out to wrap a towel around yourself.

Feeling refreshed, you return to your bedroom to prepare for the day. Avoiding looking at the window and avoiding thinking about the man in the bedroom past it, you go to your closet to select an outfit for the day. You settle on an oversized grey shirt, then grab a pair of underwear from your dresser to step into.

You spend the day picking up around the apartment with some reality TV show playing in the background. The light from the floor-to-ceiling window across from you brightens the space. Three stories below, you can see the hustle and bustle of the streets of Austin. By evening, your belongings are as clean and organized as they will get, so you settle on the couch to read your book.

Usually, romance stories are your perfect escape, but today, not so much. You can’t get through the scenes without picturing Javier's large, rough hands sliding up your legs or the warm touch of his lips grazing yours. You can't get him out of your head. As the protagonist melts under her lover's touch, you do the same under the phantom hands of Javier.

You snap the book shut and place it on the coffee table before the couch. You need to stop fantasizing about this man you barely know. A man who is clearly not interested and who you embarrassed yourself in front of. You let out a huff of frustration and pick up your phone.

The screen says 6 p.m., so you order dinner, not feeling like going out after the night you had. Your Chinese takeout is left at your apartment door an hour later, and you bring it inside. You settle on the couch to eat and watch one of your favorite movies, Bridget Jonne’s Diary.

Eventually, the movie ends, dinner is finished, and you check the time. It's only 9:30. It’s 9:30 on a Saturday night, and you are in pajamas, stuffing your face, watching romcoms alone. You don’t want this to be how you spend your first weekend in your new city. You were so excited to move to downtown Austin and experience all it offers.

That’s it, you decide. You won't be a prisoner in your own home. You're going out and don’t care if you run into a particularly broody, gold-skinned, dark-haired man. You get off the couch and march into your bathroom, determined to go full glam for your night out like you did in college.

Two hours later, your hair falls in long curls down your back, and you look in the mirror to assess your work. Your eyes look big and bright thanks to the mascara and thin line of eyeliner. Your cheeks are rosy, and your skin flawless, with some freckles peeking through the light layer of foundation you smoothed on. You add a sheer gloss to your lips and determine you are done.

Having changed out of your oversized t-shirt from earlier, you are now wearing your favorite little black dress. It’s a satin, lace trim mini dress with a small slit on the upper thigh. The lace lining of the V-neck bust perfectly frames your chest, making it look full and perky. The satin fabric flows down your body in a way that accentuates your waist but still flows freely enough to be comfortable and falls at your upper thigh.

You stash your lip gloss, phone, and wallet into a small black handbag, slip into some short, strappy black heels, and then head out your door. You exit the apartment building and pause as you step onto the street. Your eyes dart around, searching for a familiar figure, but you sigh in relief when you see that the coast is clear.

An hour later, you find yourself dancing with a group of girls you became best friends with in the bar bathroom. Eventually, after several drinks and dancing until your feet hurt, you hug the girls goodbye and decide to seek out a dive bar for a more chill environment.

You walk down the street until you find an old-looking bar with a neon sign buzzing above the door. There isn’t a line of drunk young patrons waiting to enter like at the popular places you walked by earlier, so you decide this is where you'll end the night.

You walk into the unglamorous bar featuring dim lighting, shabby décor, and neon beer signs with the tang of cigarette smoke in the air. Definitely not your usual place, but you won't stay for long. There is a hum of steady chatter throughout the bar. Most of the patrons are men playing pool or darts. It's definitely a place for locals; everyone is dressed in jeans and T-shirts, so you stick out like a sore thumb.

You sit at the bar in the back and face the wall of assorted liquor bottles. You order a cranberry vodka from the seedy old bartender. He eyes you suspiciously but says nothing about you being out of place here. A couple sips into your drink, a group of younger patrons crowd the bar and take up the stools next to you.

 It’s three guys, older than you but not by much. You noticed them when you walked in; their heads had turned, and you felt their eyes on you as you walked to the bar. The one on the stool to your right is wearing old, faded jeans, dirty boots, and some old band t-shirt. He is tall and stocky with light brown hair that falls to his shoulders underneath a baseball hat. The two on the stools to your left are shorter, nearly your height, have dark hair and seem like brothers.

The tall guy to your right introduces himself and his friends. “Hey, pretty thing, what are you doing at our bar?” he slurs your way.

“Your bar?” you ask and shrink back when he leans in to talk to you.

“My name is Trent, and those are my buddies, Ryan and Alex,” he says, motioning to the two sitting on your left. “We’ve never seen you here before.”

Feeling slightly uncomfortable now at their closeness, you stiffen and respond, “I’ve never been here before, but I'm just finishing my drink and going home.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, why don’t you stay a while?” he says, leaning forward to put a hand on your knee. “We’ll keep you company.”

“No, I’m pretty tired, and my friends are waiting for me. I should probably head out now.” You say and stand to rid yourself of his hand on your leg.

Before you can leave your seat, Ryan's hand grabs your wrist and pulls you back down. “I said you should stay,” he says coldly, staring at you with glaring intent behind his eyes.

At that moment, you feel a breath on your neck from one of the guys to your left. You can smell the reek of alcohol on his breath when he says in your ear, “Or we could go home with you if you'd like.” He puts a hand on your shoulder and lets out a bone-chilling laugh.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you realize your predicament. Frozen in fear, the voice in your head is begging you to devise a way to get rid of these guys and go home. Before you can mutter another excuse and try to stand up again, you hear a voice behind you.

“Get your fucking hands off of her.” the familiar voice rasps. You recognize it immediately.

The guy to your left heeds the warning, removing his hand from your shoulder and backing away. Your eyes dart to Trent as he tightens his grip on your wrist and sneers at Javier. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I said get your fucking hands off of her,” Javier repeats a bit louder and angrier as he steps forward.

Trent drops your wrist and stands to his full height, equal to Javiers's. You stand and turn to walk to Javier, but Trent extends his arm to block your path.

Before you can react, Javier grinds his teeth, throws a bunch directly at Trent's jaw, and connects hard. Trent stumbles over, and Javier kicks him to the ground before he can catch his balance.

Ryan stands with a liquor bottle in his hand and swings it toward Javier's head. Javier evades the blow and grabs the assailant's arm, twisting it to release a crack and yelp of pain from the man. Ryan drops the liquor bottle to the floor with a crash, and the amber-colored liquor bleeds across the floor. Holding his arm in pain, Ryan shrinks away from Javier and looks toward Alex.

Alex stands and begins to take a step toward Javier, but their eyes meet, and Javier growls out, “Take another step, and I'll break your fucking arm too.” Alex pauses, debating what to do. They stare each other down, but the look of cold, calm rage on Javier's face freezes Alex to his spot. Instead, he bends down to pick up a chunk of broken glass from the liquor bottle and turns toward you.

“This is all your fault, coming here dressed like a slut just to tease us.” He sneers at you and swipes in your direction with the shard of glass. As you brace yourself for impact, Javier throws his body between yours and the other man’s.

The broken glass cuts into his outstretched arm, leaving a 4-inch-long slice into his forearm. As blood trickles down his arm, you watch Javier throw a punch directly into the other man's stomach. Alex doubles over in pain, and when he does, Javier's knee raises in a blow to his chin, knocking the man back onto the floor.

You stand in terror at the scene that has unfolded before you. The rest of the bar had gone silent, all eyes on Javier and the three other men brawling. Before anyone else decides to step in, Javier puts his uninjured arm around you and leads you towards the exit.

Tears begin to sting your eyes the moment you are both out of the bar and around the corner to safety. You sniff as they roll down your face, and you look at the ground.

Javier stops walking and stands in front of you. “Woah, it's all right, darlin,” he says gently. “No one is going to hurt you; you’re safe now.”

When the tears don’t stop and you fail to respond, he reaches out with a finger and delicately lifts your chin to see your face. You look up through your lashes with more tears welling in your eyes. “I'm sorry,” you say in a choked-up voice, “I'm so sorry for tonight and last night. This is all my fault.”

His brown eyes soften as he looks down at you and answers, “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.” Your body hums in response to that word coming out of his mouth. “Those men are filth who can’t control themselves. I ought to go back in there and fucking make sure they learn.” He spits toward the old bar in a gruff voice.

“Thank you for getting me out of there. I'm sorry I ruined your night again,” you say shamefully.

His eyes dart back to you. “Ruined my night? Again? “What are you – “he pauses, understanding what you mean. “You didn’t ruin my night last night or tonight.” He says softly.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” you say, blushing at the ground. “I guess I got the wrong Idea. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.” he answers quickly, “I wasn’t uncomfortable, and you didn’t get the wrong idea.”

He breathes and runs a hand through his hair, “I did want you last night. Hell, I still want you now. But it’s not a good idea. I’m not a good idea.”

“Why?” you ask, looking at him again. “Why did you close the blinds last night, and why isn’t this a good idea?”

He takes a breath. “Because,” he says and growls, eyes ablaze, “If I had watched one more fucking second of you last night, I would have shown up at your door to rip the rest of your clothes off.”

You stare in stunned silence.

“And this isn’t a good idea,” he continues, “because I’m not good for you. I’ve done things you wouldn’t understand, and it changed me. I used to be good, but not anymore. I can't be what you need, what you deserve. You saw all that I am good for tonight in that bar.” He says sadly.

“I don’t believe that,” you finally say under your breath.

The conversation ends without much else being said. Like the night before, Javier walks you to your apartment building and goes to leave after asking if you are okay one last time. As he turns to walk away, you reach out and grab his hand. Turning over his arm, you stare at the cut, which has stopped bleeding by now.

“What about you, Javier? Are you okay?” you ask.

He turns to you and answers, “Yeah, it's nothing.”

“Will you at least let me clean and bandage it for you? I can even get the blood out of your shirt before it stains,” you say, gesturing to the drops of blood on his tan, short-sleeved button-up.

He stands there, debating whether to take you up on your offer.

“Please,” you say, “It will make me feel better to do something for you after what you did for me tonight.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says, stepping toward you. “But if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, come on,” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him inside before he can change his mind. “I’ll be quick.”

Once inside your apartment, you sit Javier on the couch. “I'll be right back,” you say as you kick off your heels and go to warm a washcloth to clean his cut. When you return to the couch, there is silence between you as you kneel before him, gently wiping the blood crusted on his arm.

You finish cleaning the cut and wrap a bit of gauze around it. Finished with the first task, you stand saying, “Take off your shirt,” and look down at him sitting on the couch.

A muscle feather in his jaw. “What?” he grounds out in a husky tone.

“The blood won't come out if we don’t treat that stain soon. Give me your shirt, and I’ll throw it in the wash.” You explain.

“Right,” he says. He stands up off the couch, close enough to touch. He unbuttons his shirt, exposing more of his smooth golden skin with each button undone. You can't help but stare at the lines of his broad chest and muscled arms as he shrugs out of the shirt and hands it over to you.

Without saying a word, you walk it over to the washing machine in the back, toss in some stain remover, set the wash to cold, and press start.

When you return to the living room, Javier is still standing, shirtless, in his tight dark wash jeans and boots. You can't help but rake your eyes up and down his body and gulp. He does the same, eyes washing over you in your short black dress, walking towards him.

You approach him, and he says, “I should get going now,” motioning to the door.

“Or you could stay,” you say, standing before him, looking up. “If you want me like you say you do, stay,” you breathe. Cheek’s reddening at the bold statement.

“You don’t know how badly I want you,” he growls. “How badly I've wanted you since I saw the look on your face reading that damn dirty book right in front of me,” motioning toward the book still lying on your coffee table.

“Then take me,” you whisper.

“Fucking and fighting, that's all I do.” He says, hands tightened into fists. “I can't give you anything else.”

“So, fuck me, Javier.”

The leash on his control snaps. His warm brown eyes turn dark, and he grabs you around the waist, pulling you in. Hungry, he meets you halfway for a kiss that only ignites the fire inside you both. You taste the whiskey on his tongue, and his soft lips crash into yours.

Your hands find their way up into his hair, grabbing fistfuls. He falls back onto the couch, bringing you gently with him, settling you over his lap. Your knees on either side of him are dug into the cushions. He pulls away for a moment, and you immediately miss the warmth of his lips on yours.

“Please,” you whimper, begging for more. You drop your hands from his hair and move to drag the straps of your dress off your shoulders, but he catches your wrists.

“Stop,” he says, “It's my turn to undress you,” he drawls out, words dripping with seduction.

He guides your hands behind your back with you still hovering over his lap. Gathering both of your small wrists in his large, rough hands, he instructs, “Don’t move these,” and holds them there.

You nod in understanding, and he takes that as his signal to begin. With his free hand, he hooks his index finger around the spaghetti strap on your shoulder and slowly drags it down. His finger grazes your arm the whole way down, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He does the same to the other side; when he does, the dress falls and pools around your waist.

You inhale a small breath as your nipples harden at the exposure.

“Is this what you wanted to show me last night, pretty girl?” he asks, not taking his eyes away from your chest. You can feel the bugle in his jeans beneath you growing. The outer layer of his jeans is now rubbing into your wet panties.

 “Yes,” you breathe. You can't help but grind into him, aching for contact between your legs.

A deep, grumbling moan of pleasure rises from Javier's chest, and he licks his lips. “You want it bad, don’t you, baby?”

Again, you can only produce that one pitiful word: “Yes.”

He stands, gathering you in his arms and twisting, now placing you on the couch. “Lay back,” he instructs and drops to his knees as he spreads your legs open enough to position himself between them.

Laying back against the couch with your legs spread wide before him, you lift to help him drag your panties down and off. He holds them, inspecting them.

“Is all of this for me?” he asks, referring to the dampness.

Your cheeks heat, and your eyes drop to the floor in embarrassment. Now he knows exactly the effect he has on you. You’ve been wet for him the moment you laid eyes on him.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, dropping your panties to the floor. He runs his calloused, solid hands up your legs from your knees to your waist and tugs you closer to the edge of the couch. “More for me to taste.” He finishes with a devilish grin.

He hooks your ankles over his shoulder and leans into that spot between your legs, already slick with anticipation. His tongue unfolds and lightly drags up the center of your folds towards the bundle of nerves at the top.

You let out a whine of pleasure, hands gripping the fabric of the couch.

That sweet sound drives him over the edge, and he licks into you once again, hungrier and harder. You close your eyes and writhe in pleasure. He hooks his hands under you, cupping your ass to hold you still against his tongue.

You can feel the tension inside of you rising, burning throughout your body. At that moment, One of Javier's fingers replaces his tongue and slips inside of you. Even just one is enough to have you moaning.

He continues to pump that finger in and out while he uses his tongue to circle the apex between your thighs. You feel your breaking point coming, and between breaths, you gasp, “Javi- Javi, I'm about to cum.”

Instead of letting up, Javier crooks his finger inside you and finds that spot that has you reeling over the edge.

“I know, baby,” he says, looking up at you, affection in his eyes “cum for me, baby, come on.”

As the words leave his lips, you fall apart on his finger. Your muscles clench and unclench around him as he massages into you, letting you ride out every drop of pleasure.  

“That's it, angel,” he croons, pulling his finger out of you, “you did so good for me.”

Still trying to catch your breath, you look down at him, kneeling between your legs. All you can do is watch as he slips that finger, covered in your slickness, into his mouth, licking it clean.

He stands, and you hear him walking to your bathroom to grab a towel. He returns and begins to wipe up the mess he made of you.

“What about you? I wanted you to feel good, too.” You say, sitting up and looking in his direction.

“Not yet, sweetheart. I don’t want to break you.” He says in that smooth voice you find yourself craving in every silence. “I enjoyed myself, don’t worry.” Those words reverberate through your body and almost have you aching for him again already.

With the tension expelled from your body and your muscles relaxed from the release you just had, sleep creeps into your mind. Your eyelids begin to feel heavy, and Javier can see it wash over you.

“Go finish cleaning up,” he says, nodding to the bathroom, and you're too sleepy to protest.

You start the shower and step into the warm water for the second time today. This time, though, you’re fast. You wash the makeup from your face and sweat from your limbs as quickly as possible while still being thorough. When you get out and wrap yourself in a towel, you stand still, listening for the sound of Javier inside your apartment. But you don’t hear a thing.

You crack the door and peek outside, confirming your suspicion that Javier is gone. He slipped out while you were in the shower, so he didn’t have to say goodbye. Your heart falls just a bit, even though it is what you should have expected.

Just sex, that was the understanding between you tonight and nothing more. He made that very clear.

Too tired to mull it over in your mind any longer, you turn out all the lights in your apartment and slip into bed. Just before you click off the lamp to the side of your bed to wash the room in darkness, you notice a tall glass of water sitting on the nightstand you don’t remember leaving there. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and you click off the light. Darkness washes over the room, and you fall asleep fast, thinking of Javier.

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #reader x character #fanfic #fanfiction

[caterkinnie]

Hello, how are you? 💙

Can I request Vil doing reders makeup, but every time Vil's close enough the reader starts to scape a little laugh (She's nervous) and Vil finds this amusing and starts teasing her.

'Closeness'

❥ ⌗ characters: Vil Schoenheit.

❥ ⌗ tags: fluff. reader simping for vil again, vil flirting because, maybe hes ooc idk sorry

❥ ⌗ a/n: got a bit carried away...

Vil is… very annoying with your appearance. That's pretty much how you ended up in this situation.

You TRIED using makeup for a few days because you know— it seemed fun and almost all of your friends wear makeup, so why wouldn't you try it yourself?

The conflict begins with the fact that you're Vil's 'friend' (Is it alright to say that word? Would he use that word with you?) and he constantly nags you about 'taking care of yourself' gifting you skincare products; the makeup you were using was actually from him!

Your friends actually complimented you, Ace even said something remotely positive! (Which is a huge deal) so you really didn't understand why Vil made such a big deal about it?

Anyways, he went on a rant about every single thing you could do to improve— and you told him, if he really disliked it then he should do it himself, and Vil took it literally.

And now you are in his room, the Pomefiore housewarden and a world-wide celebrity being a few centimeters away from your face. Neither of you were speaking, you could only hear the birds chirping and an occasional student passing by. Class would start in 2 hours, but time was passing so slowly it felt like torture.

It was suffocating, why was your brain so caught up on his fingertips slightly rozing yours, or how his eyes were so focused on every single detail of your face, or just— his lips. It was hard to not stare at his lips, you hoped he wouldn't have noticed!

Your brain was going wild, was he getting so close to your face on purpose? You were starting to get genuinely nervous, what kind of expression were you making right now? Hopefully nothing weird—

Ah, he was so close, it was as if Vil was about to kiss y— wait, what are you thinking about?!

You couldn't help but slightly giggle at the thought.

'Hm? What is it that you find funny?' if you weren't directly looking at Vil, you might have thought he was mad at you. 'Are you nervous?'

'Nervous..? Why would I be?' that… came off more high pitched than you intended it to be, why were you nervous in the first place?

Vil looked at you deep in thought, as if he was seriously thinking of an appropriate answer.

Prideful, that was one way to describe him; he was feeling prideful at that moment. Not entirely sure why, he was used to others being shy around him. A part of him felt giddy? for the lack of a better term— Vil knew exactly where that feeling came from.

'Oh… I thought that maybe… being so close to me would perhaps make you uncomfortable. Am I wrong?' feeling like a hypocrite for teasing you as if he wasn't feeling like a child himself at the moment, enjoying being so close to you and wanting to get even closer—

'I… I don't think 'uncomfortable' is the right word'

'So you enjoy it?' again with that prideful look. He clearly was teasing you, and were you a fool for wanting to see how this whole situation was going to end?

'Enjoy what?'

He chuckled, 'closeness?' as he started to slowly close the gap between you and him—

And then, you felt a slight flick in your nose.

'Fuhuh, expected something else? I don't want to ruin your makeup just after finishing it~'

♡ Reblogs appreciated !!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #disney twst #twst headcanons #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

[cerebralinvasion]

yandere february event day 20

“Hopeless? You think I’m hopeless? Sweetheart. Pigeon. Dove. Don’t you see that you’re the one caged here?”

nikolai is unpredictable, if nothing else. after all the time you’ve spent with him, that's the only conclusion you’ve reached. his mind was an utter labyrinth. even when you understood his goals and motivations, he constantly changed his course of action, purposefully taking measures that often hurt even himself just for the sake of not being bound to anything. anything seeming to include logic. 

you knew from the beginning that his obsession with freedom would affect the decisions he made, and you kept careful note of that while attempting to see through him. appealing to that everytime you wanted to get something out of him. you analyzed his behaviors and actions carefully, doing your best to stay alive anytime working for fyodor meant working with him. your algorithms seemed to hold up. while not 100% accurate in his choices, you were able to keep yourself afloat.

however it seemed there was one factor you never calculated. love. you never deemed it necessary. to speculate how nikolai would respond to romance given his hatred for being bound by emotions. but now you really wish you had. maybe if you had, you would’ve even been able to convince him the best solution to rid himself of any controlling emotions would be to simply leave the object of his desire alone. but it’s much too late for that.

you winced as the bird cage swung with your movement. sure, it was hung only a few inches from the ground, but the swaying wasn’t any more pleasant. your hands gripped the iron bars for some semblance of stability, it just barely helped you regain your balance. once settled, you only frowned, turning to look at nikolai. despite him having been in the room since you first regained consciousness, you had yet to say anything to him, and him to you. he has only been watching you in silence thus far. perhaps he was waiting for you to speak first.

“gogol. why am i here?”

“aw, are we not on a first name basis anymore? why the sudden change?”

“you didn't answer my question. why am i here?”

“hm, as prudent as ever it seems. very well then! let’s play a game! i’ll answer any of your questions except your first one. and you have to use the other answers you receive to piece together why you’re here! sounds fun, right?”

knowing nikolai, you didn’t have much of a choice. if you wanted any answers at all, your only hope was to play along.

“fine then.” you grimaced “are you the one who put me here?”

“yes, i am!”

“does fyodor know i’m here?”

nikolai frowned at that question, like bringing up someone else’s name had soured his mood. he answered it anyways.

“no. i’m the only one aware of your location.” 

“do you plan on letting me out…?”

“hmmm.. maybe one day! but you have to be on very good behavior~!”

“so you kidnapped me.” you frowned.

“ding ding ding!! you got it! and in only three questions too, good job!!” nikolai cheered.

“but, why?”

“you stole my heart! it’s only fair.”

“...what.”

“that’s right! your charms tangled me in a web of emotion, trapped me like a fly! naturally, this got in the way of my freedom. so at first i was just going to kill you! but the thought alone broke my heart into a million little pieces and i realized that if i killed you i’d only be chained down by my own grief. so, what else could i do? then it hit me! i’ll simply take you! you can’t imprison me if i imprison you first! so now, even if you have my heart, i have you! problem solved!”

“so you got a crush and your response was to lock me away? you really are a hopeless fool chasing a useless pipe dream.” you glared at nikolai, finally voicing your thoughts on his little fantasy.

“hopeless? you think i’m hopeless? sweetheart. pigeon. dove. don’t you see that you’re the one caged here?” nikolai grinned at you, leaning in close to the bars of the cage. “that’s fine though. i appreciate your sacrifice. thank you for lending me your freedom.”

#bsd x reader #yandere bsd x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #yandere nikolai gogol #yandere nikolai gogol x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd #bsd x you

[starkskeep]

When the Dragon Howls (3)

When the Dragon Howls Chapter Three

Characters - Cregan Stark x OC (Maera Velaryon), Aegon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen

Summary - Maera Velaryon feels consumed by the obsessive clutches of her uncles. A wolf from Winterfell could potentially be the one strong enough to confront the dragons.

Word Count - 711 words

Warnings - Typical Targaryen relationships. Aemond and Aegon are kinda creepy (Sorry. The boys have no example of a healthy relationship in his life.)

A/N - Thank you so much for the support on the last two parts. Please let me know if you want me to start a taglist for this. The next chapter will be posted after this. I had to split it up once again due to being over Tumblr's limit.

Previous Part Next Part

Maera’s wish did not come true.

A reprieve from her family and the festivities was much needed so Maera looked for solace in the library of the Red Keep. She was reaching for a book on one of the higher shelves when a hand brushes her hand and grabs the book for her. Looking to the side, Maera sees Aegon handing the book to her. “What would you do without me, little Maera?” Already frustrated with his brother and wanting to be alone, Maera turns away and searches for the best place to sit. “Thank you for your assistance but I am sure that I would have been able to retrieve the book for myself.” She finally spots a cushioned bench in a window and makes her way to it, unfortunately, Aegon follows her. “It seems as if you have not only become more beautiful; your tongue has become sharper as well.” He flops onto Maera’s lap as she sits down. “Maera. You break my heart with your words. I miss you immensely when you are away. First, you allow my brother to escort you to dinner and sit by your side. Then you dance with Helaena and sneak out of dinner before I can even speak to you. Now you are rejecting my attention. This is not how you should treat your doting uncle.” Aegon continues his dramatics by taking one of Maera’s hands before he places it over his heart. Maera looks down at Aegon and rolls her eyes. Despite his wanting to be alone, Maera can’t deny that he is amusing her with his actions. She pulls her hand back and opens her book, trying to indicate that she wants to read. “I did not request for Aemond to escort me. He showed up at the door to my champers and it would have been impolite for me to deny him. Just like it would be impolite for me to ask you to leave me alone.” Maera muttered the last sentence yet Aegon still heard her if his smirk was anything to go by.  “You don’t mean that. I take great pleasure in being in your company as I am sure you do in mine.” Aegon says arrogantly. Another voice bore through their conversation. “No one except the women you may take pleasure in your company, brother.” Aemond growls out as he rounds one of the bookshelves blocking Aegon and Maera from view. “Our dearest niece does not have time for drunken fools. Leave her alone so that she can enjoy her books. You may not understand that someone can appreciate the written word since you barely know how to read.” Maera is caught as the two brothers begin to argue, completely ignoring her and her thoughts despite her being the subject of their argument. “You want her to read the books because they are the only things you are able to talk to her about, Aemond. Perhaps she would like you more if you were less uptight and boring.” Maera sighs as the argument continues. This seems to be much more than Aegon and Aemond’s previous childhood squabbles and Maera does not wish to be stuck in the library with them if it comes to blows. All she wanted to do was read her book in peace. She tries to stand but is pulled back down to the bench by a now red-faced Aegon. “Settle this for us, little Maera. Who is your favorite uncle? Who do you desire to spend your time with?” Maera looks between the two brothers. At this moment, they couldn’t seem more different. Aemond is glaring coldly at his brother yet still remains perfectly controlled while Aegon looks as if he is going to explode no matter what Maera’s answer is. The combination of both of them staring at her expectantly has Maera regretting her decision to come to Red Keep, much less the library. She cannot escape answering them though so Maera tries to be playful in her answer in an attempt to distract the brothers. “Daeron is my favorite at the moment. He is the only uncle who is not disturbing my attempts at reading.” Aegon laughs at her answer while Aemond just narrows his gaze.

#cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark imagine #cregan x reader #cregan stark #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd oc #hotd fanfic #hotd

[4dkellysworld]

she eventually had to do what her teacher ada did as well

She did all she could,just as you and other bloggers are doing

There's only so much to point to,you can't do it for people,you can only point to the direction

But do not put her on a pedestal,she manged to realize herself with a couple of posts,why can't you?

That's the reason she left probably,that we stop seeking for validation and look within

Stop accusing other bloggers as well

Even If someone is hypothetically saying something mean,just let them?why does it matter?is their ego made of gold and therefore meaning more than the others? it's meaningless .have you learned nothing from her?...

Just look within

Thank you Kelly for keeping her posts,I really appreciate it❤️

Exactly. For those who genuinely want to know their Self deeply and completely, forget about what others are/might be saying, forget what's going on around you. It can be easy to get caught up in the noise but don't bother with it, it's all maya. Just stick with your chosen teacher (preferably one that you trust is fully realized like Lester, Robert, Nisargadatta, Siddharameshwar and that you resonate with) and forget about everything else.

Here's some words from Robert Adams that may be relevant:

You say you want to become free. You say you wish to awaken, become liberated, why does it take so long? Why do I have to go through this life? And go through all the various things that I go through? Take an honest look at yourself. Do you have humility? Do you have compassion? Do you have love? Or do you have anger, fear, hatred? You have to honestly take a good look at your life. See the kind of life you've been living. What are your beliefs? What do you feel about the world, the universe, your self? 1

Now, if you really want to make progress, you will drop everything mentally. I’m referring to mentally letting go of your reactions to whatever is going on in your body and the world. Leave the world alone. Leave people alone. Do not try to change people. Or to make them see your point of view. There is no point of view. Every point of view is wrong. We want to get rid of points of view. 2

If you’d only learn to sit still, to be quiet, to stop reacting to the universe, to the world, to the situations, to life. We have names for everything. What if we forgot about those names? And we stopped seeing things as something? What if we just observed things, watched things, without giving them a name, without coming to a conclusion? What do you think would happen? You would transcend everything. 3

You’re trying to correct something. You’re trying to become something. You’re trying to do something. And something does not exist. Also, what you’re trying to correct does not exist. What you’re trying to change does not exist. You get nowhere. This is why I tell you so often, leave everything alone. Have no opinion for or against. Do not be judgmental. Be nothing and you’ll be everything. The only thing that you should do or must do, is not to be in conflict with anything. Do not be in conflict with anyone or anything. When you’re not in conflict with anything, the mind begins to surrender itself and goes back into the Heart, and you become your Self. 4

The water in the mirage, that is maya; something that appears to be real, but upon investigation you find it's not. The whole world is like that. The whole universe is like that. Do not be fooled again. Do not take anything seriously. Turn within. Do not react. And vehemently make up your mind to go deeper this time, and not get lost in maya again. 5 I am saying continue what you're doing but mentally give up everything. Mentally do not become attached to things by fearing them or loving them or doing anything to them at all. You observe the world and your affairs. You watch what is happening to you. 1

#asks #robert adams #thanks #attitude