#i do have another fic about a bitty

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Gojo Satoru x f!reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

100 FOLLOWER MILESTONE CELEBRATION ✰

>fanart_credit: _3aem (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 7293

>contents: slight crack (it’s a gojo fic what do u expect), established relationship, fake engagements, excessive use of “fiancé/fiancée”, satoru is DOWN BAD like ultra simp 3000 levels, kiiinda rich boy!gojo but like barely, gojo calls you “angel” and baby” a lot, cunnilingus, kinda feral!gojo too, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), multiple positions, explicit p in v, rough(ish) sex, creampie, gojo being a lil slut for you, itty bitty dacryphilia (if you squint mad hard)

there’s a standoff happening in your kitchen. a staring contest of sorts. the tension in the air is palpable, so thick you could taste it if you stuck out your tongue. your opponent is a worthy contender, giving just as good as it gets. your nose twitches with the intensity of it, eyes narrowed as you keep your gaze firm, focused.

your adversary in this battle? a red, velvet ring box.

god, it’s like it’s taunting you with it’s delicate heart shape. smug little box, just sitting on the dining table unopened. you’re not sure how long you’ve been caught in the orbit of this suspicious item, but it must’ve been quite a while, according to your boyfriend.

“babeee, i’ve been calling you! what’re you doing?” satoru appears from the direction of your bedroom, frown on his face from his belief that you’re purposely ignoring him. he slips behind you, arms around your torso as he leaves a kiss on the top of your head.

“oh,” he laughs as he fixes his eyes on what has you so engrossed, “it’s not what you think.”

this is what gets your attention, turning your head so your gaze is no longer on the little box, but on satoru instead. “what, you proposing to your other girlfriend or something?” you pout. he laughs again, annoyingly louder this time.

“baby, i’m not proposing to anybody yet. and you know i don’t have another girlfriend. it took me 3 years to get you to say yes to one date, you think i’m pulling that off again? thanks for putting faith into my game, though.” you can’t help but to roll your eyes in jest, turning in the man’s arms to wrap yourself around him.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. so…what is it then?”

“it’s a ring.”

“i thought you said you weren’t proposing…”

“okay well, technically, i am. but listen! i saw online some guy and his girlfriend went to different restaurants with a fake ring and when he ‘proposed’ to her, they gave them free food and desserts! so. we’re doing that.”

you pull yourself from satoru’s grasp, staring up at him blankly. he gives you a goofy smile in return, bringing a hand up to boop your nose when you remain silent.

“satoru….really? doing this just so you can get free chocolate lava cakes and ice cream? i’m definitely deleting tiktok from your phone, damn app gives you way too many ideas.” and there he goes frowning again, pretty pink lips downturned so dramatically.

“baby, no…i’m doing this so that WE can get free chocolate lava cakes and ice cream. what kind of selfish, evil man do you take me for? … and you’re not deleting my tiktok! how else am i going to send nanami videos he claims to not watch but always knows about when i ask him?”

a sigh leaves you as you shake your head, truly experiencing defeat. you, and everyone else that had ever met him for that matter, knew that there was no changing satoru’s mind when the words “free” and “dessert” were involved. he’d eat himself into a goddamn diabetic coma if you let him get away with it.

satoru enacts his master plan the next night, surprising you with a stunning new dress and a note that says to “look super sexy and marriageable (where the hell had he even learned that word?) as usual” left on your bed. you try your best to comply with his wishes, getting your makeup and hair as perfect as you can before slipping the very revealing dress on. you realize something rather odd while you doll yourself up; satoru hasn’t come home to get himself ready. it was almost 6pm, the time designated by him in his little note, and you were practically ready aside from some jewelry and shoes. you couldn’t imagine that he would make you wait while he showered and dressed, so you were a little bit confused, but you decide to brush it off while you pick between solid gold hoops and diamond-encrusted dangles, both courtesy of the man in question.

when 6:04pm rolls around, and your fancy yves saint laurent heels are wrapped around your feet, the front door opens. you look up from your seat at the kitchen island with a wine glass in hand, and, in the most cliché way possible, your breath is stolen right out of your lungs. satoru was always stupidly beautiful, just so gorgeous that it made you sick, but now? he looked even more alluring than usual. those inhumanly blue eyes were hidden behind his typical shades, masterfully tailored suit adorning his lanky form like it was painted on. his deep red button up, the same color as your cocktail dress, was unbuttoned for the first three (because he was a slut.) and to top it all off, he was wearing that same award winning smile that he’d dazzled you with so many years ago. if he wasn’t so set on his goddamn desserts, you’d bend over and spread your thighs for him right there on the counter.

“holy fuck,” is the first thing he says to you, grip on a bouquet of what looks like dark red carnations and burgundy roses tightening as he takes you in. he takes off his glasses as he draws in closer, pure reverence in his eyes the whole time. “angel, you look…you look fucking edible. my god. what a woman.” you’re not new to satoru’s comments and compliments, far from it, but tonight, they were hitting a little different, for lack of a better term. maybe it was the look in his eyes, some kind of compound of love and burning desire, but something else, too. something almost…determined, but you don’t know what he’d be determined to do other than put on a good show.

“so, eat me then,” you tease, though the heat in your cheeks and your eyes not meeting his gives away how flustered he’s got you. he’s still looking you over, scrutinizing every pretty inch of you with an overwhelming intensity before his steely gaze levels to yours.

“mm, tempting, but it’ll have to wait; we have to go get engaged first. these,” he holds the flowers out to you, “are yours, my arrestingly beautiful queen.” you can’t help but to laugh at his ultra-corny pet names, but they warm your heart nonetheless, rising from your stool to find a vase to fill with water.

“where were you, anyway? you show up all dressed to the nines on me out of nowhere. what, did you get ready in the car or something?” you ask, back to the white-haired man while you dig around in a cabinet.

“suguru helped me out, kept my suit and let me shower at his place..” he says, almost distantly. you can’t see it, but satoru is watching you, worshipping you with his eyes as you flit around the kitchen in your heels and your dress and your oh so seductive aura. he’s never seen anything or anyone be more mesmerizing in his life, and he knows he never will.

arriving at the first restaurant of the three satoru had planned has your nerves alighting. what if they knew you were faking it? god, how disgraceful that would be—caught in your goober of a boyfriend’s silly scheme would have you too embarrassed to show your face in public for at least two months. but then he smiles at you from the driver seat- a genuine one that eases your anxieties and soothes your concerns, one so brilliant that it instills you with the necessary confidence to go commit…whatever form of fraud this whole thing is. you give him one in return, reaching out to cup his cheek before you’re leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. you can feel him smile even wider when you do.

“so, how much do you want me to sell this? ‘cause, if i cry now, it might not be so believable at the next place.” satoru’s pushing in your chair when you speak, smoothing his hands down your shoulders before giving you a squeeze. he takes his own seat, flipping the menu open to browse through the beverage list.

“best as you can with no tears. gotta save those for the last one,” he tilts his glasses down to send you a wink, and, for the millionth time within your relationship, you’re light-heartedly rolling your eyes at him. “you got it, baby. but! if you don’t share whatever disgustingly sweet, sugar-stuffed, chocolate-drizzled, candy-coated bullshit you ask for, it’s gonna be your pretty little ass.” he laughs at your threat and throws his hands up in resignation. you might be smiling when you say it, but you surely aren’t joking, and he knows it.

you both decide to keep dinner small and light, knowing you’re going to gorge yourselves on whatever insulin-raising dishes your dear boyfriend chooses to indulge in. it’s not long after you put your fork down when he gives you ‘the look.’ you have to use all of your willpower not to smile, woosah-ing yourself into the role of an unsuspecting girlfriend about to be proposed to. you paint a look of surprise on your face when he gets down on one knee, giving you a charming little speech about how he’d “wanted to do this for so, so long” and how he “could never love another the way he loves you, never want to. so please baby, will you marry me?” it’s actually rather romantic, makes you wonder how close it all is to his true feelings for you.

you and satoru hardly ever explicitly talked about marriage, but he did always talk about how he wanted to be with you forever (or rather, that he’d jump off a bridge if you ever broke up with him, but that wasn’t as eloquent.) he’d mention plans of a big house he wanted to put you in, so he could come home to you and your warm embrace every day until he was old and wrinkly beside you. so, maybe not an outright “hey, we’re getting married some day,” but it was most definitely implied.

at the end of satoru’s little scripted scene, he pulls out that same heart-shaped ring box from the table, opening it up to showcase a square cut diamond, one you’re sure must be a piece of costume jewelry for the occasion. you gasp, climbing out of your seat to throw your arms around him with a “yes! yes, i’ll marry you!” he picks you up, standing back up to his full height as he delicately sways you back and forth. you share a kiss, one you let a few secret giggles into, before you part, allowing your boyfriend the pleasure of sliding the ring onto your finger. the patrons of the restaurant that’d been watching the spectacle all clap at what they believe to be a genuine display of affection, including your waiter from his station near the kitchen. it’s a lot of attention, but being with someone that looks like (and acts like, and is) satoru means you’re relatively used to stares and whispers. he gives you one more sloppy smooch before he’s helping you back into your seat, giving a bow of thanks to the other customers before he’s sitting, too.

when the waiter comes back to offer up your grand prize, with eyes dampened from your well-acted performance, satoru keeps it simple and orders a non-nauseating plate of assorted mochi ice cream. and when it comes to the table, he plucks one of the cold, sweet little treats in between his long fingertips and reaches his equally lengthy arm across the table to feed it to you with not a lick of selfishness. fuck the dessert, he’d share the entire moon with you if it was in his possession.

“babe, we fucking killed that. that lady? in the black blouse? she was crying, like, actually crying! i almost feel bad, but that mochi was to die for, so i’d say it was a worthy crime.” you jabber excitedly on your walk back to the car, hand in hand with your stage fiancé. he’s staring down at you as you prattle on, knows he should be watching where he’s going but fuck, you’re so stunning and you go along with his admittedly very childish desires for free sweets and yeah, he really is so whipped, it’s not even funny. he’d never deny it, either—the man who carries multiple pictures of you in his wallet and as his phone background, the man who gives you massages and shares from his candy stash when you’re on your period, the one who can’t get mad at you when you fall asleep on him during a movie he really wanted to see? there’d be an ice-cold day in hell before that man—the only gojo satoru—ever denies being hopelessly, foolishly, irrevocably in love with you.

the second restaurant that you and satoru pull your scheme on is a tad bit more upscale than the first—not to say the first eatery wasn’t upscale, would never be the case with your luxury loving boyfriend—and you absorb your surroundings from your place on the man’s arm while he checks your reservation in with the maître d. for this place, as fancy as it is, you think you’ll tone down the theatrics, keep it a little classier this time around. you don’t want to embarrass yourself or satoru with some overly acted performance that screamed fake. the suited man behind the counter leads you to a table, not smack-dab in the middle of the dining area but not very secluded either, something perfect for the exhibition you were going to put on.

“you know, you’re setting me up for some very high expectations, ‘toru,” you speak from behind your wine glass, eyes on what would be his if it weren’t for the glasses he still wears. he looks up from his menu, head tilted inquisitively.

“is that so?”

“mhm. that ring you got looks nice, but you’ve spoiled me. i’m gonna need one way bigger now. and,” you pause, taking another swig from your glass, “you’ll have to really surprise me. i mean, this restaurant is really nice, but if you keep this up, we’re gonna run out of fancy restaurants for you to actually propose to me in. there’re only so many, y’know.” your tone is coated in sarcasm, but satoru doesn’t laugh. instead, he smirks, closing his menu and placing it to the side.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about that, sweet girl. you’ll be very surprised when it happens.”

the meal is delicious, as expected, and your plates are cleared soon after. satoru’s laughing at a story you have about your neighbor’s adorable little kitty cat that keeps trying to sneak into your apartment while he pours you another glass of an unnecessarily expensive wine he insisted on.

“are you ready?” he asks when you finish, and you give him a short nod, quick to prepare yourself again for the false astonishment you have to give and the onslaught of eyes that were soon to be on the two of you.

he reaches across the table to take your left hand in his, eyes peering up at you over his glasses when he leans down to press his lips against your ring finger.

“i love you,” he murmurs before he’s up and out of his seat. he approaches your side of the table but he doesn’t do his part of getting down on one knee yet, opting instead to cup your cheek with a hold so gentle you’d assume he thought you were made of glass.

“i mean it, i really do love you more than anything in this world.” you don’t have time to respond to the declaration before he’s descending to his knee, taking your hand yet again as he gives you another speech. this one is different than the last, but just as full of genuine love.

“you make my days worth living, baby. you make the sun look like a streetlight in comparison to how much you light up my life. you’re so funny, so smart, so generous, and you put up with the…less than favorable parts of my personality with very minimal complaints.” he says that last part with a little bit of disdain and it has you giggling in a way no one else can bring out of you, despite your slightly glossy eyes. “my perfect girl, will you marry me?”

and there it is, the ring box you’d been waiting to see since you stepped into this establishment full of onlookers. he opens the box and slides the ring onto your finger before he even gets your verbal answer, but it doesn’t matter because you’re nodding and smiling like a damn idiot, as if it’s real. you try not to dwell on that thought for long.

“of course i’ll marry you, satoru.” he carefully pulls you up out of your chair and cups your face again, this time with both hands, lips against yours in a kiss much more serious than the last time you did this. there’s more applause following suit, but you can’t pay attention to anyone but satoru, who’s kissing you so deeply that the restaurant could be burning to a crisp and you would be none the wiser. when you part, he’s grinning, a little bit from the wine buzz and a lot from the adrenaline of proposing to his gorgeous girlfriend, staged as it was.

your waitress is quick to congratulate you both, and when she mentions the one thing that satoru came here for—that goddamned free dessert—he lets you choose. but you’re so generous, his sweet little sweetheart, just like he said in his speech, and you pick something sugar-stuffed, and chocolate drizzled, and so fucking satoru that it makes your teeth ache. you’re always, always, thinking about him, and he loves you all the more for it.

when you get to the last restaurant/soon-to-be victim of theft of services, you’re feeling very practiced in the art of deception. the tears you were able to evoke out of the unknowing guests, and the ones satoru almost pulled out of you had you unwaveringly confident in both your own and satoru’s level of skill as thespians this time around.

this place is a far cry from the previous two and you can tell before you even step foot inside, the architectural marvel of a building radiating the energy of one of those “sorry, we’re booked 3 years in advance” kind of places. you have no doubt that satoru could get in anywhere if he wanted to, though- the man was quick to offer bribes well into the range of some people’s entire salaries. if he wanted something, he was unrelenting, tenacious even—traits you admired greatly about him.

the moment you step inside, you start to feel a little swell of anxiety. this was..intense. the lighting was much more moody, with floor to ceiling windows giving the diners a view of a beautiful garden, lush with greenery. you and satoru had dined well before, but this was something entirely different. he leads you to the reception desk where another maître d, not dissimilar to the one before, greets you with an air of extreme professionalism. satoru gives the man his name, and you’re left a little confused when his eyes widen in what you think is surprise. he gives your boyfriend a quick nod before he dashes off, and you try not to focus too much on how expensive this place must be or why satoru would come here of all places for a free dessert, but it’s hard not to. the wall behind the reception desk is practically covered in plaques of awards, the words “michelin star” and “winner of..” plastered on most of them. you know those aren’t easily earned, so you try to think less about the exorbitant cost you know your boyfriend is paying, instead doing your best to enjoy this probably once-in-a-lifetime dining experience.

the man from before returns, with another more sharply dressed man, who grins wide when he sees satoru and yourself. he shakes your man’s hand firmly, giving a nod of his head in the direction of the dining area. the restaurant is gorgeous, past that really, but a little under-populated for satoru’s plan to have it’s most effectiveness. besides, what’s the point of a fake proposal if no one is gonna see it?

you mention your previous thoughts to satoru once you’re seated, but he just gives you a smile and says “don’t worry about anything other than enjoying yourself.”

so you don’t. you reminisce on funny, and sometimes embarrassing stories about your past with satoru—sharing laughter, and food you can’t fucking pronounce, and glasses of ridiculously high-priced alcohol.

“you’re the most wonderful woman in the world, angel,” he muses some time down the line, “thank you. i don’t fucking deserve you.” his words have you putting your glass down, reaching across the table to mirror his earlier actions by taking his hand, with your face set into a frown.

“i don’t like it when you say things like that, satoru. you do deserve me..because i say you do. you’re not- you’re not hard to love, satoru; it’s actually very, very easy. and i love loving you, and i’m gonna keep doing it every fucking day that you’ll have me. okay? so none of that,” you say, squeezing his much larger hand in your own.

“what if i wanted to have you forever?” he asks, eyes still hidden behind those increasingly unnecessary glasses. the restaurant is far more dimly lit than the first two, but the urge to complain comes only from how much you miss looking into those dazzling blue pools.

“well, i’d give you forever and then some. you’re not getting rid of me, ‘toru,” you grin, taking the stem of your glass between the fingers of your free hand and lifting it to your lips. satoru follows the movement behind his shades, watches how the delicate line of your throat bobs with your swallowing with a sort of reverie that is usually described in religious texts. he’d pray for you, pray to you, anything. he’d learn how to sculpt just so your beauty could be immortalized for all of eternity.

satoru says your name and you hum, quick to swallow down the rest of your sake before giving him a sweet smile with your eyebrows raised.

“i hope you meant what you said—about forever.” you’re about to ask him what his foreboding words mean but you’re interrupted by none other than satoru himself, rising from his seat for the third and final time this evening to bring himself down to one knee. you’re about to laugh and quietly chide him for not giving you time to prepare for the show when you hear the sound of a piano, looking over your shoulder to see a man sitting at the once unmanned instrument. you turn further still and see that all of the staff has crowded around the edges of the room, all holding intricately crafted bouquets of..dark red carnations and burgundy roses, much like the one he’d given you, both granting you space but still wanting to watch the grand gesture that your boyfriend prepared.

“satoru, what’s….did you call ahead or something? this is…kind of a lot for a dessert i could make you at home..” he smiles and shakes his head at your endearing ignorance to the situation, reaching up to pull his glasses off for the first time all night. those eyes that you missed so much, they were rimmed with a faint redness. you couldn’t help but act on your instincts, reaching out to cup his face in your careful—caring—hands. you don’t get the chance to ask him what has him tearing up so much before he starts, a speech entirely new leaving his lips.

“if you think that loving me is easy, then loving you is child’s play. loving you is…one of the greatest gifts that i have ever or could ever be granted. you don’t always see it, and i like it that way, but sometimes—a lot of times—i look at you like you created the heavens and the earth. you are the heavens and the earth to me. you’re everything to me. your laugh alone could cure me of any ails. i don’t know what i did to make such a beautiful, loving, gentle, smart, hilarious, talented woman fall in love with my stupid ass, but fuck, baby, i thank the universe every day for you. you give me purpose. you give me strength. you give me the want to continue, when it feels like there’s no fight left in me.”

your eyes shimmer with unshed tears, lips parted in genuine shock that you hadn’t expected to feel tonight. you spare another glance at the staff before bringing your gaze back to satoru, voice caught in your throat and tongue heavy in your mouth.

“satoru, if- if you’re playing with me..if you’re doing this for your damn dessert, i-“

“no, baby, this- this is real. you are…the most exceptional person i know. you love me in a way that i didn’t know was possible before you came into my life. i’m so goddamn unworthy of you, but you chose me, and i swear, that for the rest of my life—the rest of our life—i’ll never let you down. please, angel. please make me the most blessed man on the planet and marry me?”

satoru reaches into the pocket of his suit pants as you stare in amazement, mascara tears fully running down your cheeks now. the ring box in his grasp is much different than the one from your faux-engagements—it’s black, shaped like an oval with silver ornamental designs around the perimeter. and when he opens it, your lip begins to quiver.

the ring is something so uniquely satoru, a thin silver band that splits into multiple vine-like channels, with little diamonds attached for the appearance of flowers. they meet at the top where the stone resides, and fuck, it’s big. it’s aquamarine, with several little prongs holding it’s marquise shape in place. it must’ve cost a fortune, and you can’t help but marvel at it as satoru takes your hand in his own again, lips against your ring finger one last time before he’s slipping the delicate piece of jewelry onto your finger.

“i need you to say it, angel. say you’ll marry me,” he pleads, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit space. you can’t hold back the sob that leaves you, nodding vigorously as you caress his face.

“yes, ‘toru, i’ll marry you.” you say through the tears, pressing your salt-covered lips to his. there’s applause behind you, just like the other “engagements,” but this time, you don’t need them there. you’d have said yes to him if it was 3 in the morning and you were half asleep, you’d have said it in the car on the way to the grocery store. you’d say yes to him anywhere, at any time.

true to satoru’s word, he doesn’t bother with the free dessert this time around. he’s too busy thinking about going home and getting a taste of his fiancée to bother with some fancy piece of cake. and he almost doesn’t make it home, pressing you up against the car with his right hand on the side of your face and the other on your waist. he kisses you so voraciously, like if he tried just that much harder, he could swallow you whole.

“satoru, stop!” you giggle against his ravenous mouth, “a public indecency charge wouldn’t be a great start to our engagement, you think?”

“i can’t help it. my fiancée just looks so good, i don’t think anybody’d blame me if i hiked your dress up right here,” he says, leaning his head down onto your shoulder to leave a kiss or two on the bare skin. you gently push him away, coy look in your eyes when you meet his own.

“at home, the dress comes all the way off.”

satoru has you both in the car with the keys in the ignition and the gearshift in ‘drive’ within 14 seconds.

the front door to your apartment is solid wood, and it’s cold against your back where satoru has, yet again, found a surface to press you up against. you barely made it three steps inside before he was on you, groping and squeezing anything his reach would allow. his lips are sweet where they meet yours, kinda like how they always are, from all the desserts and wines he’d indulged himself in. and somewhere in there, a taste that’s wholly satoru resides. it’s your favorite flavor. his tongue never asks permission to enter your mouth—it just does, licking up every bit of you that’s on offer, and it never satisfies his appetite.

“what was that you said earlier, baby? you want me to eat you, right?” he says between his desperate kisses and fuck, when did everything get so hot all of a sudden? the hand you have on his shoulder slinks up, coming to find its place in the short hairs of his undercut, and when you scrape your nails against his scalp he sighs into your mouth.

“you’re not too full from your desserts?” you tease breathily but it cuts into a gasp of surprise when he yanks your dress up and shoves his hand under the bunched fabric to rip your panties off, only to find your bare skin at his fingertips.

“oh, fuck- no panties, baby? y’want me ta eat that pretty pussy this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer, snatching your lips up in a quick, biting kiss that leaves you dizzy. he drops to his knees—funny how much he’s done that today—and lifts your dress further, gathering the material up at your waist. the way satoru marvels at your pussy is something he’d always done but fuck, can you blame him? you get so wet and you taste like the world’s rarest delicacy on his tongue and you’re so fucking warm and tight when he digs you out—he’d sing hymns about your pussy from the top of a mountain.

“my pretty fiancée givin’ me such easy access…such a sweet girl you are,” he praises with a kiss to your mound, “so fucking good t’me.” but he’s just as good to you—especially now, as he spreads your thighs and hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, unhesitatingly dipping his tongue in between your soaking wet folds. the contact of the slippery muscle on your sensitive flesh has you mewling, eyes slipping shut as he feasts on you. his mouth is as slick as it is when he’s talking, stroking his tongue up and down from your clit to your hole, and back again.

“fffuck- satoru..” you whimper, subconsciously grinding your hips into his face. he doesn’t mind, though- actually he encourages it; he loves it when you use him for your pleasure, makes him feel good to make you feel good. and that rings especially true now, as he stiffens his tongue and slides it into your aching hole that’s been clenching around nothing this entire time. he fucks you with it, much like he does with his cock- giving you a mix of slow and fast thrusts and keeping you on your toes. his large hands smooth up your thighs before one sneaks away to aid in him pulling you apart. his thumb finds your clit, massaging the little button in circles and you almost lose your balance, your hand flying out to grip onto his snow-like hair. your little mewls act as encouragement for the man between your legs; he’s studied you—your body—for years, and how each little flick and roll and curl of his tongue or fingers brings you closer and closer to cumming all over him. and he uses that knowledge so freely, long tongue prodding and pressing further and further into you, tip of the muscle kissing your g-spot.

satoru knows you, knows that when your thighs shake and your breathing turns to panting, he’s got you right where he wants you. you confirm that for him, when you look down at him to see those sparkling blue eyes staring back up at you and you moan “god, fuck- ‘toru, please baby, don’t stop, gonna cum f’you.” he’s ever so obedient, thumb moving in faster circles around your clit and his unrelenting tongue fucking into you just as quick. he keeps his gaze glued to your face because you look so goddamn pretty when you cum that he can’t bear to miss it. and he doesn’t, watching lustfully as your head sinks back against the door, hips stuttering as he licks the orgasm right out of you.

“out of all the meals i’ve had tonight,” satoru starts, lips shiny with your release when you open your eyes again, “you’re the most delicious.” you’d laugh at how corny he is, but your mind still hasn’t come fully back to you yet. satoru rises back to his normal stature of towering over you, even in your heels, and he can’t help but to dip his head down and kiss you. all those same flavors from before are muted behind the taste of you, and you almost hate to admit it, but you like that a lot.

“i need to be inside of you, baby,” satoru sighs into the kiss, leaning down to wrap his big hands around your outer thighs, and you get the idea quickly, letting him pick you up so you can wrap your legs around his hips. he carries you off to the bedroom, laying you down on the plush comforter that covers your bed. you sit back on your elbows and toe your heels off, eyes following his movements as he takes off his blazer.

“god, you look-“

“fuckable?”

“very.”

“so, what are you waiting for? fuck me, fiancé.”

he takes your invitation with fire in his eyes, moving in close to undo whatever horrid contraptions are keeping you clothed. when he gets the zipper down, he’s practically ripping you out of the dress, tossing the expensive garment off somewhere behind him. he’s pulling his own clothes off just as quickly, and when he gets his pants down you can’t help but to feel him through his black boxer briefs. he’s so hard, and he’s leaking like a goddamn faucet, the wet spot you feel near his tip growing larger and larger. he’s groaning against your neck as you touch him, pushing his hips into your palm desperately. but then he decides that he can’t take the teasing and the waiting anymore, so he’s sitting up on his haunches to shove his boxers down his thighs. he doesn’t even get them fully off before he’s grabbing your calf and dragging you towards him, gripping the base of his painfully stiff cock to line it up with your sopping pussy hole.

“ohmy-GOD, fuck- ah! satoru, slow downnnn!!” you gasp, crying out for him as he slams into you with no warning and sets a pace that could rival a jackrabbit.

“s-sorry, baby, jus’ need you- need you so fucking bad, shit- hnnng, fuuuck,” he moans, gripping your hips tight as he keeps hammering into you. you can’t keep your eyes open as much as you’d like to—satoru always looks so angelic when he’s flushed and panting from the vice-like grip your pussy has on him—but it’s okay, because he moans like a bitch in heat when he’s fucking you and that’s all you need. your nails are digging into whatever they can find, one hand twisted up in the blanket and the other pressed against satoru’s flexing abs as if you’re trying to stop him, but you both know that’s not true.

“so. fucking. wet.” he groans, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. he’s so deep inside that you know you’d feel him if you touched your belly, and the thought has tears of pleasure spilling down to your temples and into your hair.

“y-you feel so fucking good- ah- mmm- look so p-pretty taking my cock like this,” he whines, one hand leaving your hip to find your throat. he doesn’t add pressure, doesn’t squeeze, just lets his hand rest there like he needed to ground himself. he finds himself angling his hips just a little differently, and only a moment later, he knows he’s got it when your teary eyes shoot open and you scream his name.

“right there, angel? my fiancée likes it t-there?” he teases, trying his hardest to keep some composure but fuck, it’s so hard when you clench that tight cunt of yours and suck him deeper and deeper.

“yeeessss,” you sob, “please! feels..so good…love you so much, love the way you fuck me..” satoru moans with you, snaking a hand under your lower back to arch you a little more, and the slight change of position has him hitting your g-spot head on with his merciless thrusts. you cum, wordlessly and unexpectedly, and satoru’s eyes widen as he looks down to see the ring of your cream that covers the base of his cock.

“ohhhh f-fuck yeah, angel, cream all over my dick, ‘s all yours, always- always yours,” he gasps.

he brings you fully into his lap and your arms instinctively curl around his neck, your head falling back as he bounces you on his cock that’s impaling you. you’re both covered in sweat now, and your slick, too—it leaks down around satoru’s dick and onto your thighs. the eye contact he makes with you in this moment is hard to look away from, so you don’t—eyes locked with his while you pant and moan and whimper his name. he does the same right back to you, choking out declarations of his love interspersed with your own name.

soon, the position changes again, when you use the little strength you have left to push satoru onto his back with your hands splayed out on his chest. he groans in surprise, sliding his hands up your hips to hold onto your waist. your gaze shifts between his blissed-out face and the sparkling stone that rests on your finger, grinding against him nice and slow.

“does this feel good, satoru?” you don’t mean for the question to come out as seductive as your tone does, but it has his hips bucking up into you nonetheless. his eyes open to find yours and he nods, digging his fingers into your flesh more when you ride him harder, roll your hips a little faster.

“f-fuck, feels like heaven, baby..keep- mmf, keep fucking me like t-that,” he answers, and you’re his sweet girl, his giving little angel, so you do. you keep fucking him just like that, pulling yourself up and dropping back down on the lengthy cock inside of you. your ass smacks against his thighs on the landing, and it joins your ragged breathing and satoru’s huffs as the only sounds in the room. he can’t help but to meet your hips with his own thrusts, not keen on taking the reigns back but adding to the insurmountable pleasure you both feel.

“will you cum with me? please, ‘toru- need to feel you..” god, how could he ever deny you when you ask so sweetly, one hand still on his chest and the other on yours, palming at your tit with a pinch of your pert nipple every now and then. his brow is furrowed—plush lips parted with his moans and he’s nodding in response again.

“yeah, baby, yeah- ‘m so fucking- hah- c-close.” a look of focus forms in his eyes when one of his hands slips down from your waist, nimble fingers toying with your sensitive clit. your moans rise in pitch and volume, heart pounding in your chest as you get closer and closer to the edge. you can practically feel him pulsing inside of you, know he’s almost there too, and you ride with more determination, tits bouncing with the effort. he looks so desperate from his position beneath you, desperate to cum, desperate to fill you to the brim with his hot load. you’re left gasping, shouts of his name torn right from your throat when he plants his feet into the mattress and starts to thrust up into you, fingers still pinching and pulling at your engorged nub. he fucks into you so roughly, eyes shifting between the spot where you conjoin, watching raptly as his cock slides in and out of your hole, and your sweet face, mouth hung open and tear streaks on your cheeks. both are a pretty sight to him.

“‘m gonna cum, ‘toru- cum for me, too, need it inside me so fucking bad,” you whimper, and you weren’t lying. only a few more thrusts and some circles rubbed onto your clit and you’re crying his name, creaming all over his cock again. and satoru can’t hold off anymore, doesn’t want to, and the way you clench and squeeze him makes that an impossible feat anyway. he stills his hips the best he can but they still stutter with the intensity of his orgasm, letting out rope after rope after rope of his sticky fluid inside of your needy little hole.

you roll off of him when you get the strength to do it, still panting with the exertion. but satoru is clingy, even more so after sex; so with your eyes closed, you don’t see it, but rather feel the man’s hands tugging you close. he drapes his sweat-sticky body around yours, nuzzling his face into your neck where he leaves a few cheeky kisses.

“thank you.” it’s silent for a while before he speaks, and the words have you cracking your eyes open to look at him. he’s already beaten you to the punch, wide blue eyes looking up at you.

“for what?” you respond, bringing your hand up to smooth his hair down. he practically purrs at the sensation, but he answers you regardless.

“for saying yes to me, to forever.”

the snort that comes out of you is unintentional, but you can’t help it. he sounds silly thanking you for that, so you tell him as much.

“satoru, you make it sound like you had to bribe me into being with you when you say things like that. y’know, i meant what i said, about you being stuck with me. couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, baby. this just makes it..more official.”

“guess that’s true, huh?”

“you’re damn right. and when we get married, i’m going to use my new powers for evil.”

“what??”

“oh, yeah. i’m gonna terrorize everyone. pranks galore. and i’ll tell them gojo did it. and they’ll just assume it was mr. gojo, not the kind and sweet mrs. gojo.”

satoru’s jaw drops, sitting up to gape at you. you just shrug in response, smiling innocently at your soon to be husband. he shakes his head, deep in thought for a moment before he grins, eyes hard set on you.

“what?” you ask, playfully narrowing your own eyes.

“i think i want to marry you tomorrow.”

>authors_note: WELL. it’s finally here (took me long enough i knowwwww🤫) ENDLESS THANKS FOR 100 (we’re almost at 200 now but let’s cross that bridge when we get there heheh)

>next up: firefighter!satosugu (after like 3 months of me talking about it IM SORRYYY)

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

© loko4koko 2024

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader

[ryndicate]

Double Down ⨳ Yoshida, Denji

“Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, nudes posted without permission, drug use, exhibition, creampie, videos taken with permission, stepcest, infidelity, masturbation, handjob, some spit mentions, premature ejac, implied fuckery, implied theft, if there's more i am just too wacked out to see it so lemme know!

event: @bastardblvd 's slimeball alley collab !! my first submission of who knows how many to come, im gonna try to not go crazy with it, promise

notes: didn't realize until it was done that I could've made it much more slimy but its okay. We'll get 'em next time babes 😩 this idea is expanding on a little blurb I put in cassie's inbox once, i included it in the fic itself with some itty bitty changes

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

Your fist slams on the bathroom door. “I swear to god, Denji! Where the fuck did you get those! Delete them now!”

“I already told you, Power found them online!” Your stepbrother yells back through the door, keeping his weight against the handle so that you can’t force your way in.

“You’re full of shit you fucking perv! You took them off my phone or something.”

“Wanna fucking bet? The real perv is that prettyboy bastard you call baby,” Denji sneers back, yelping as you get a good shove in on the creaking wood.

Your efforts to break the bathroom door pause. “The hell’re you talking about?”

“I told you he was trouble the day you two met. What—you think I was lying?”

You growl under your breath at the barenecked taunt in Denji’s voice. Yeah he told you, one time before he got high out of his mind. The only reason you even met Yoshida Hirofumi was because he hooked your stepbrother up a couple times, and you begged to tag along once. That situation ended with your brother counting stars on his buddy’s ceiling while you saw them on the backs of your eyelids with the guy’s lips wrapped around your clit. 

One thing led to another, and that “prettyboy bastard” became your boyfriend. He’s a bit of an ass, but Yoshida’s also sweet and funny, doesn’t roll his eyes at your music choices, doesn’t bat an eye when you want to go out with your friends, and is full of sexy, smirky sass that makes him so fun to be around. Sure, you sent him some photos, but he wouldn’t have put them out anywhere.

Your anger deflates, but your indignance does not. You step away from the bathroom door. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

Denji throws the door open with a toothy grin, repeating himself. “You wanna bet?”

“You know what, yeah!” you snap at him, crossing your arms as he leans in the doorway, still looking smug. 

“Your boyfriend put your pics up on OnlyFans, and he’s using the money to pay for his xanny. If I’m right, you two gotta upload a video. Together,” Denji states, his eyebrows furrowed in twisted delight that makes you sneer at him.

“You’re disgusting!”

“Yeah? Tell me what you get if you win.”

Caught up in his childish bullshit, you push at his shoulder. “You gotta start an OnlyFans if you’re wrong, which you are. And you gotta wear lingerie.”

His smirk full drops at that, and he glares at you, cheeks darkerning. “Now who’s a perv.”

“This whole shit was your idea!”

“Lingerie?”

“How is wearing lingerie worse than telling your stepsister to fuck and post a video about it?!”

“Shut up!”

“And since we’re on the topic, I swear to god if you don’t stop taking my shit out of the laundry I’m gonna tell that redheaded lady at the DMV that she’s at the very top of your fap list.”

His blush deepens and he palms your face backwards in a light push. “The fuck she is. Shut up.”

“Yeah well, me and the thin fucking walls in this apartment would have to disagree.”

“Go find your boyfriend.”

“‘M gonna.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck him,” you hiss in barely supressed rage, gripping your boyfriend’s phone so tight you’re disappointed when it doesn’t crack. 

You’d waited for his high to hit him and let him drift off before going through his phone—what’s the point of asking him outright if it’s not true, right? No reason to stir the pot. But your stomach had dropped with unease when the account site was in his search history; you tried to brush it off as maybe he gets off to a set of camgirls, but the moment you saw the login info presaved—as in frequent entry—you began to forget the bet altogether.

Now your jaw is clenched, seething as you scroll through every racy picture you ever sent him. Each have thousands of views, hundreds of comments and jeez—so many subscribers. The heat of betrayal simmers through you. Your jaw drops at the total that’s set to drop into his account at the end of the week and resist the urge to slap Yoshida awake, but instead you set about trying to change the banking and login info, only to get halted by an infowall. Frustrated, you slip off the bed and call your stepbrother, edging into Yoshida’s bathroom so you don’t wake him up.

“You were right, and you fucking knew it, didn’t you? You set me up.” you hiss into the device as soon as he picks up with a mumbled ‘sup. You can hear voices and music in the background, paired with light explosions. You assume he’s out with his friends, probably gaming like usual. 

“You didn’t have to agree. Wait—” there’s the sound of the phone moving around and suddenly the music is gone. “Does that mean you’re gonna do it?”

“That’s besides the point, Denji!”

“Oh fuck, you are!”

“Chill your boner,” you snap, “‘m not gonna do it unless you help me!”

“Help you? What, like you want me to hold the camera or something?”

“Denji, I swear to god—”

“I’m kidding, jeez.”

“I can’t change the account info. They’re my pictures, and they’re already out there! He shouldn’t get to make money off of me.”

“Wait, so you want to keep the account?” He asks curiously. You hear a door slamming and wonder if he’s still moving, or if his friends are.

“Dude, we’ll have rent and anything else covered for the whole month with a single week’s drop from this thing. I don’t see a reason not to. I can quit Mcdonald’s!”

“Shit, for real? Lemme talk to Denki, ‘m pretty sure he knows a guy.”

“Thank you,” you coo into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you pay up.” You can hear his pervy smile, and you grumble a sulky fine at him.

“Ok. But he’s gotta do it soon. It pays out in a couple of days.”

“I’ll give him some cash to see if he can do it tonight. Don’t see why he’d say no—" Denji sounds a lot further away from the phone now, "—Oi! Don't bro! Give it back."

A familiar voice purrs into the receiver and you roll your eyes. "Heyyy, princess. You with that Yoshida guy still or are we allowed to hang now?"

"Byeee, Kiri. Tell Kat hi f'me." You hang up with a smile and leave the bathroom, glaring at your supposed boyfriend still sleeping. You never heard him say he was working and you always kinda wondered where he was getting his cash, but you always just thought he was dealing or something. Not the kind of think you ask about. You obviously should’ve asked.

You crawl into his lap and begin sucking on his exposed throat, admiring the sharp lines, the bob of his adam’s apple as thick lashes flutter open. 

“Mmm,” Yoshida moans. “Damn, was I out long?”

“Nah,” you hum, slipping your fingers up his shirt, smoothing over his waistline. “Got bored without you, that’s all.”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins up at you, dark eyes fuzzed out and sultry, and his hands come up to settle on your hips, easing you into a slow grind. “Wanna do something?”

“Mm. Maybe,” you tease softly, pushing his shirt up his chest and leaning down to wrap your lips around his nipples. He groans at the warm, slick suction, arching into your touch. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his cock swelling beneath you. 

“Maybe I wanna do something…different.”

Yoshida grins up at you, half-lidded. “Yeah? Like what?”

Your nails make pink lines down his chest as you lean in to whisper in his ear. “What if you fucked me, and we let some people watch?”

His fingers dig into the fat of your waist, his dick thumping beneath you. “Anyone I know?”

Yoshida’s pupils have overtaken his coal irises, and you give him an inviting smile. “No one specific. I was thinking more like…a video or something. I wanna be able to see it later.”

“Holy fuck, baby. That’s sexy,” Yoshida grins up at you. “Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

“Me either,” you breath softly, rocking yourself over his covered erection.

You’re left to yelp as he displaces you from your seat on his lap and pulls you out of the bed by your wrist with a wide smirk. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanna pick something up at the Malmart first.”

“Fine, I guess,” you pout at him and his smirk only grows.

“‘S okay, baby. I’ll give you something too.”

“This is not what I meant when I said video, Hirofumi!” you gasp out. Your fingers are splayed out on the hood of his car as you try to stay upright. “Someone could actually see us!”

"If you don't wanna be seen, you gotta cum. Cause I'm not stopping til you cum."

"Fuck, fuck please, just hurry up!" You plead, half your words caught between whines and whimpers as he pounds into you from behind, your skirt flipped over your back.

"You think I'm not fucking you like I mean it?" There's so much smile in his voice that you want to call him on his bullshit for once, but the solid smacking of his hips into yours, the head of his dick pressing as deep as it can go with every thrust quickly makes you forget what you're snapping at him for.

"Just‐just, fucking make cum– ‘fumi!" You're desperately telling yourself you don't want to be seen. It's the middle of the night, so even here, parked under the one of the many lightposts that don’t work in grimetown's 24-hour walmart parking lot, the risk of anyone seeing is slim.

But not zero. Especially with the light from his phone camera shining down on your exposed lower half. You’re like a slutty beacon for whoever might be looking this way.

"I'm working on it baby, you gotta relax." His fingers slide around your waist, brushing past your clit and forcing a frustrated whimper past your lips at the neglect, to drag them through the slick dripping obscenely from your pussy lips. It's dripping to the rusted black hood, making it glisten. He aims the camera down at them before moving it back to the way your pussy clings to his cock. "You're so fucking wet for this, you'd think the whole thing was your idea. Well, most of it was."

You don't answer him, trying to work yourself back on him, chasing that fluttering heat twisting itself tighter and tigher with each passing second.

"Good girl, look at you. Fuck, look how bad you want—"

"Oi! Get the fuck out of here before I—"

Your whole body locks up at the tired but authoritative voice that rings across the lot.

Your boyfriend calls back. "C'mon man, have a heart. Let me finish her off and I'll give you a look." Except his last syllable staggers off with a groan, broken with a laugh as his grip on your hips tightens to a bruising pressure. The vice grip of your cunt has him looking down to sees your juices gush around the girth of his cock, dripping down your thighs to dirty the hood of his car even more. The sight pushes pushes him over and he calls out again, his voice tight but smug.

"Nevermind, we're done here."

He gets one last shot of his cum dripping out of you before closing out the livefeed.

“It’s like four in the morning,” Denji grumbles, rubbing one of his eyes as he cracks his bedroom open further at the sight of you. “Thought you were Power or somethin’, jeez.”

Denji blinks the blur from his eyes, zeroing in on your screen, and you just about hear his pupils expanding. He pulls a shaky inhale and you roll your eyes.

“Done. Bet over, and here’s your damn proof,” you grumble right back, slamming your phone against his chest and shoving your way into his bedroom to flop down into his bed. It had taken over an hour to convince Yoshida back to his place and get him to fool around enough for him to pass out and you to sneak back home.

"Also Kiri wants you to call him back. He's mad you hung up on him."

A small grin curls your lips but you don't respond, wiggling deeper into his mattress until you're comfortable.

He throws himself down in the bed next to you. “Turn on my speakers.” 

“Or you could just wear headphones, you freak.”

“Nah. Turn ‘em on.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you stretch out to reach up to his desk, turning on the bluetooth speakers that he usually uses to be a nuisance when he’s smoking. “If your dad was home, I’d kill you for this.”

“You’re not even breaking up with him, are you?” Denji chortles, ignoring your bickering. His eyes are glued to the screen as he shoves a hand into his loosened shorts. “What the fuck, you guys were outside?”

You shrug. The video’s only been up for a couple hours and it already has triple the views and donations of all the photos Yoshida has put up so far. “Looks like he’s gonna be making me lots of money, so why not? It’s the least he could do to pay me back.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t answer you, his breathing getting heavier. You close your eyes and sigh as the sounds wet sounds and your own whiny moaning starts bouncing off the walls of his room, wondering to yourself if you really sound like that or if part of you was exaggerating because of the camera. The mattress creaks every now and then as his hips jump, his arm brushing your side as he grinds into his own fist. 

You roll to face him, taking in the sound of his stuttered breaths, the muted slick sound of his fist pumping in his shorts. “So what about this gets you so riled up?”

Denji groans, stomach rippling where his shirt is pulled up around his midsection. “I’nno, it’s hot, isn’t it?”

You keep prodding, “What is? Yoshida? Or me?”

He gives a small whine that has your pulse picking up in sick interest, so you continue. “Was Power really the one to find it? Or…you were subbed to the account, weren’t you Denji?”

“Mm- maybe?”

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, listening to your own voice begging to cum, shifting your weight onto your arm so you can look at him. A strange curiosity has taken over your body. He looks wrecked but his eyes are still on the screen. “Denji, look at me.”

Your body tingles as his eyes tear towards you, but he’s still got a hand around himself, hidden from your eyes. “Can I touch it?”

“You wanna what?” he moans, just barely, teeth digging into his lip.

“Can I jerk you off?”

You’re a little surprised when he actually hesitates. You’ve tolerated it all this time; as much as he pervs out on you, and your stuff, yet somehow he’s got a little crumb of morality left in there somewhere. And right now…you wanna kill it.

“My panties, my pictures…is this really any different?” you ask softly, sweetly, as you run with this electric current, placing your hand over his covered groin. You grin as his hand immediately goes slack at your touch and slips out of his shorts, and you get to feel for the first time how hard he is, rubbing over the smooth fabric, feeling out the shape of him.

“I mean…I guess not.” He sucks in a breath as you grip him over his shorts and give a couple experimental strokes. “B-but what about—?”

Denji’s head drops back to the pillows with a groan, phone in a death grip as you tug his waistband down, his dick slapping free. It’s pretty and slender, flushed deep red.

“What about what?”

“What about prettyboy, huh?” He finally gets it out as you spit in your hand and take him up again, stroking him steadily from base to tip, squeezing at the top with a gentle twist of your wrist. Yoshida always seemed to like it, seems like he does too. 

“That’s what you’re worried about? Not the whole stepsister thing?” You shrug. You’re still stung about Yoshida’s betrayal, so this feels like a little bit of retribution. A little bit. You still need to find more ways to make him pay first, but this is a good start. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but ‘s not like you and me are dating, Denji. It’s a handjob. What’re you gonna do, marry me?”

Denji splutters and his dick throbs in your hand. “Don- Don’t say stupid shit!”

You coo at him and his lips part, panting hard as you work him faster. 

“What– haa, what if it wasn’t just a handjob? What then?” Denji gives a low moan as you settle over his lower thighs so you can gently cup his balls. They seem to tighten under your touch, before he relaxes and he tries to look at you. 

“What, like my mouth or something?” you ask playfully, leaning over and showing him your tongue, letting a strand of spit drip down to his dick.

A litany of curses tumblr from his mouth as Denji squeezes his eyes shut, fingers twisting into the pillow beneath his head as his cock jerks and shoots a load of hot sticky white into your palm, getting smeared down his throbbing shaft as you slowly work him through his high until only a couple dribbles get pressed out by a final pass of your thumb over his slit.

“Wasn’t expecting you to finish already.” You wipe your hand off on his comforter and try to ignore the throbbing in your panties. You feel like you can still imagine the slick from earlier tonight seeping out of you, but it’s as if it’s no longer enough.

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he calms his breathing enough to raise himself up on his forearms. He watches you as you take your phone and flop down next to him. “I didn’t even get to see the rest of the video.”

“It’s online now, freak. You can watch it whenever.”

“Yeah...” 

You’re too busy trying to go through the account settings to notice the way he’s eyeing up your thighs; he hasn’t even put his dick away yet. 

“Hey,” he mutters softly, ignoring your glare when he puts a hand on your thighs and pulls them open. “If you can touch me, does that mean I get to touch you?”

Your pulse jumps and you try to keep your true thoughts hidden as you hide back behind your phone. “I guess that’s fair. If you wanted to.”

You can hear the click of Denji’s throat as he swallows, and you can’t stop the low whimper as his calloused fingers brush your inner thigh, right at the edge of your panties. 

They’re warm as they brush over the seat of your panties, timid but curious as they explore the surface, stroking over the tempting warmth and wet seeping through the thin fabric. A bolt of pleasure bursts and has your gut clenching as he swirls over your clothed clit

“H-hey, wait,” you say suddenly, nerves getting the better of you as you try to make sense of Denji taking control of your body. “It got switch but this isn’t my banking info. Is it yours?” You flip the screen towards him, and his brown eyes squint in the pale blue light.

“Uh, nah, that’s not mine.”

You mewl as he pulls your panties to the side and traces a finger through your folds, delicate, hungry. “Who did you say– mm, h-hacked the account for me?”

“I told you. M’friend Denki, his buddy did it. That purple-haired guy who works at the smoke shop.”

“The one wi—” you suck in a breath as he sinks his index finger into you. “With the tattoos?”

“Yeah him,” Denji mumbles, hardly paying attention to your words. He’s grinding against the bed as he pushes his middle in alongside it, imagining the tight squeeze around his dick instead.

Your groan is part pleasure, part dismay as you realize just who he’s talking about. “Oh fuck me.”

Denji bullies his way between your thighs in an instant.

“N-no, Den– that’s not what I meant!”

#csm x reader #yoshida x reader #denji x reader #yoshida hirofumi x reader #denji smut #yoshida smut #csm smut #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x reader #tw::stepcest

[d3wdropz]

Gojo Satoru NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: fem! reader, titty appreciation, spooning position, praise, switch! Gojo, fingering, oral (female and male receiving), cumshot, squirting, teasing, mild public stuffs, roleplay, blindfold use, edging, phone sex, lingerie, mutual masturbation, and hopefully that's it

A/N: wow! Gojo won by a landslide- I shouldn't be shocked but one day I will get to that Douma fic. That silly mother fucker is underappreciated :(- jk I get why- he can eat a bag of dicks

Thank you all so much for the support on the sukuna fic!

Thank you @benkeibear for this lovely banner!

✰- First off, this man is so horny. Like his sex drive is no joke- and so random at that

✰- He'll fuck you for a week straight- pulling you into empty classrooms or gender-neutral bathrooms bc he loves the thrill of someone catching you. One hand clamped over your mouth while the other rubs furiously at your clit, "Sh- you don't want anyone walking in, do you? Fuck- or maybe you do, just felt you clench, baby"

✰-After that week, he just stops and won't feel any sexual desire for like a week and a half

✰- He genuinely isn't doing it to tease you, he's just wacky like that you're pussy does need the break tho, cause damn

✰- When it comes to his blindfold, he loves to wrap it around your head when he's topping. He'll pull on it to bring your back to his chest, or just use it to tease you when he's feeling playful

✰- Overall, Satoru is a huge switch. One round he'll be bending you over a table and fucking your cervix- the next he'll be whimpering and whining while you edge him

✰- His whimpers are soooo hot, he'll be saying "Baby, please, I'm so close, just- fuck- just need more, please, need it so bad" while you lazily fist his cock

✰- The best way to get him to bottom for you is by denying him an orgasm. Just start by sucking his dick- 7 long inches, on the thinner side but it curves so nicely and hits right where you need it- right when he's about to cum stop all movement, just softly hold him until he winds down

✰- Satoru will be breathing so deeply and pushing your head to his dick, "Y/n, you're being so mean, I never make you wait this long" All you have to do is deepthroat his cock for a minute or two and he'll shut up again

✰- The main spot he likes to blow his load is on your face, Satoru looooves seeing his cum spill onto your face, watching your eyes close instinctively as it coats your cheeks

✰- "Awww, you look so perfect like this, babe: covered in my cum. Hey, don't look so angry- you love it"

✰- When it comes to giving you oral, Gojo goes wild on you. He'll make you cum so much and so intensely, all bc he loves the way you taste

✰- He makes it his personal goal to make you cum more than the last time you two fucked- you came four times last night? Be prepared to cum six

✰- His goal might be to make you squirt. The day you do will be the end, this man makes it a competition to see how many times he can make you squirt in one night

✰- Gojo's three fingers deep in your cunt, thumb rubbing fast circles into your bundle of nerves, "Fuuuuuck, that's my girl. Come on baby, know you got another one in there. Squirt for me, sweetie, cum"

✰- Position wise, he loves the one where you spoon (I don't know the name so we're just rolling with it). He feels so close to you and he loves it, especially when he reaches around and starts fondling your titties

✰- Doesn't matter the size, Gojo loves boobs. You got big ole bitties? He's getting a boob-job for his birthday. You're part of the itty-bitty-titty-committee? He's pinching your nipples until you cry

✰- Other than spooning, he really loves cowgirl- where he gets to sit up and just keep his face in your tits, sucking them until their raw and red. He'll smirk up at you and hug you tighter, "Don't be surprised, honey. You were just asking for it when you bounce 'em like that"

✰- Due to his constant traveling and busy schedule, phone sex is a common thing for you two. He'll be away on a mission for a few days and by the first night he's texting you begging for nudes

✰- Satoru buys specific, dark blue expensive sets of lingerie just for these moments. You'll be on the phone with him, working each other to your second orgasm of the night, and right when he's about to cum you stop and tell him "Check your messages- trust me, Toru, you'll love it"

✰- Man will be nutting right then and there after he sees the pics you sent him of yourself in the newest lingerie set he bought for you before he left. Best believe he's buying you another closet full by the time he comes back

✰- Against popular belief, I don't think he likes student x professor roleplay. It feels too personal for him; he takes his teaching very seriously and wouldn't find pleasure in imagining you as one of his students (this is not meant to bash anyone who writes Gojo in this way- I've read some fics that were godly with this premise, I just don't think it fits my idea of him)

✰- Instead, he loves the power trip of you playing some random lady in need. His favorite is you being a needy housewife whose husband is on a trip. It scratches this very specific itch inside him, where you need something that only he can provide

✰- One example being a roleplay where you were a neighbor who got "stuck" opening the window and needed Gojo to get you out. don't worry, you guys were somewhere where no one would see . You two went at it for hours like this, utter filth falling from Satoru's mouth: "Y-you know, I'm starting to think you got stuck on purpose- shit- I don't mind though, been wanting a piece of this for weeks now"

✰- Gojo's aftercare is pretty good, though he expects to be pampered too. He'll get you guys a bath going, with lots of bubbles. After you guys are out, he'll feed you ice cream- probably stealing most of it. But once you're in bed, he becomes such a brat. He won't let you leave for hours and expects you to pet his head the entire time.

✰- You don't mind it, though, he's your little drama-queen

#anime and manga #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo #gojo jjk #satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n

[silverstonesainz-archive]

purple reminders

summary: carlos loves to mark what's his. word count: 3.7k warnings: SMUT – fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), spit, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum-play (i think?). cocky semi-possessive carlos. google translate spanish. this post is 18+. minors dni. note: reupload bc im pretty sure this fic didn't show up in the tags. dont worry. still the same filth, same smut.

taglist: @sluts-inc @sidcrosbyspuck @melancholyy-scorpio @coffeehurricanes @amsofftrack

*since this is a 18+ post, i will not be tagging you if your age isnt in your bio*

❃゜·。. ·°゜✼ ゜°· . 。·゜❃

You’ve always liked house parties. Free booze, comfy couch, no bathroom line? That is something you could definitely get behind. 

Lando’s penthouse is swarming with people, red cups littered all throughout the home. It was very reminiscent of your college days. You weave your way through the sweaty bodies, smiling at familiar faces as you push to the kitchen in search of your best friend and a drink. It’s of no surprise to you that the curly haired brit is mid-chug, with a group of boys cheering him on. With a quick side glance, Lando lowers his cup and shoos the group to the side to make his way to you.

“You made it!” He wraps his free arm around your shoulder, giving you a tight squeeze.

“Didn’t think I’d show?” You ask, looking up at him as he takes another drink.

Lando shakes his head into his cup before lowering it, “Never doubted you for a second. Cmon, get a drink.”

You serve yourself a vodka pineapple mix, and then turn around to join the mass of men encouraging Max to chug his drink. Lando moves over to make room for you in the circle, laughing at Max’s failure to finish his drink. 

“Lads, you remember y/n?” Lando ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away. The boys smile and greet you with a quick hello, to which you return. “You would never have guessed this, but she is a champion at chugging alcohol.” 

“And that’s my cue to leave.” You nudge his side with your elbow before excusing yourself from the group. 

You mingle and socialize with familiar faces in the crowd, playing catch up and pretending you cared about the itty bitty details of the lives of people you speak to once in a blue moon. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you only came in hopes of catching the eye of a certain driver in red, and he has yet to make an appearance. 

The room was starting to feel stuffy. Too many drunk people and not enough windows cracked open. You excuse yourself from another dull conversation, making your way to the balcony. You nurse your drink, swishing it around the plastic cup as you enjoy the quiet wind and the blinking lights of the city below you. You hear the door open behind you and get a whiff of the musky cologne. You don’t need to turn to know who it is, and you can’t fight the smile that makes its way onto your face.

“What’re you doing out here?” 

You finally turn around, the air being knocked straight out of your lungs. He looked good, a black t-shirt adorning his torso to match his dark blue denim jeans. His hair is just starting to grow out and his stubble chisels his face out nicely. He looked like a god. 

“Too hot in there,” You mumble, raising your cup to take a sip. “You?”

“Was looking for you.” 

The air gets caught in your lungs as Carlos saunters over to you and backing you up against the rail. He brushes your hair away from your shoulder, head tilting to look at your neck. “Gone already?” He mumbles, fingers trailing down your chest to hook into the neckline of your shirt, eyes peering over to stare at your chest. There are purple marks scattered over your breasts. 

“Someone might see.” You stammer, eyes looking through the glass balcony doors and the swarm of people mingling.

“They’re all too drunk, don’t worry your pretty little head.” He mutters, licking his lips before looking up at you through his lashes. “I did a good job, no?”

You roll your eyes, downing the rest of your drink before setting the cup down by a plant. Carlos releases your shirt, leaning on the rail next to you as he looks down at the city. The silence is comfortable, just the lull of the conversation behind the closed doors and the busy street below. You watch people dance and laugh, far too drunk to notice the two people standing too comfortably next to each other.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, looking at you.

“Did you miss me?” You counter, raising your brow at him. He chuckles, pushing himself off the rail. 

“Did you think about me?” Carlos’s fingers are back on your skin, this time to push the hair the wind so lovingly placed on your face. “And don’t ask me the same question, because the answer is yes, I did. I do.” 

You smile, nodding. “Yeah, I did.”

Carlos slowly leans in, but you’re quick to move your head. “Someone might see.”

He scoffs, “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“No.” You raise a brow, “I just don’t need to explain… this to anyone. Especially Lando.”

The boy smirks, turning his head to scan the crowd before looking at you. “Scared of getting caught?”

Before you can speak, he grabs your wrist and drags you to the opposite end of the balcony. It’s dark, away from the glass doors and the view of all the guests. Carlos’s lips are on yours in a matter of seconds, fingers tangling in your hair to pull you even closer to him. You quickly melt into his hold, hands resting on his toned chest as you try to keep up with the heated kiss. Carlos’s free hand grips your ass tightly, and you hum against his lips. 

“If I didn’t know any better,” You mumble as he moves his lips along your jaw and down your neck, “I’d think you missed me.” 

He chuckles against your skin, shaking his head before licking a small stripe against your neck before sucking lightly. His fingers trail up your thighs, the tight pink dress riding up your thighs. You grab onto his wrists, stopping his movements. He pull away, looking at you quizzically. “What’s wrong mamita?”

“Carlos, we’re on a balcony.”

“And?”

“And?? And what if someone walks out here?”

“Are you afraid of getting caught?” He teases, posing the same question he asked you minutes before. You look up at him, showing him you were serious and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Would you rather I fuck you in a bathroom instead? Pass by all those people and risk one of them getting suspicious? Or wait until this party is over and I take you on my couch?”

Your cheeks heat up, and your eyes dart over to the balcony door as you contemplate your options. Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of his fingers pressed up against your clothed center, eyes wide as your eyes meet his own. 

“Something tells me you don’t want me to wait that long.” He hums, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. 

“Ah, screw it.” You mutter, pulling him close and crashing your lips on his own. You’re quick to undo his jeans, pulling them down low enough with his underwear for his cock to spring out. “Be quick.” 

He chuckles, nodding. His finger taps on your bottom lip. “Chupar.” 

You oblige, taking his index and middle finger into your mouth. You bob your head up and down, tongue swirling around his digits. He chuckles, nibbling on the skin of your shoulder before pulling his fingers out. He pushes the hem of your skirt up your thighs, moving your underwear aside. You feel his wet digits running through your folds, before pushing into you. 

You moan softly, profanities leaving your lips. His lips find your neck again, sucking harshly at the skin as his fingers pump in and out of you. He trails kisses along the length of your neck, sucking and biting and you’re sure that by the end of this you’d have new marks to replace the old ones he had given you before. 

He pulls his fingers out, turning your body around and pulling your hips out. Without warning, he pushes his cock into you. You moan loudly, and his hand quickly clasps over your mouth. He pulls you flush against his chest as he fucks you mercilessly. 

“So fucking good,” He whispers in your ear, “Nice and wet. All for me.”

Your hands reach out to grab onto the railing, attempting to steady yourself. His hand moves from your mouth, down to your pussy, fingers pressing against your clit. 

The balcony door opens, and you both freeze in your spot. Carlos moves his hand from your clit, turning your body and using you as a shield to hide himself from the guest joining you. He pushes all the way inside of you, and you fight the urge to moan. You feel your heart plummet into your stomach as Lando as your gaze meet’s Lando, who looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“Hey,” He slurs, “Been looking for you. Carlos c’mon, I wanna introduce you to someone.” 

He waves his friend over in his direction, stumbling back into his apartment. He doesn’t close the door, simply leaning against it as he talks to someone inside as he waits for his friend to join him. You hear Carlos groan, feeling his supple lips pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Raincheck, mamita. I’m sorry.” He pulls out of you, and you whine softly at the emptiness. You turn and watch as he adjusts himself and his jeans, smiling apologetically. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.” 

He walks off towards Lando, and you watch as Lando drags him into the house. You breathe a sigh of relief, head falling into your hands. You take a couple of minutes to compose yourself, using your front camera to look at yourself. There are already small bruises forming on your neck, one on your collarbone. It’s too small to be covered by your hair, and you make a mental note to scold the Spaniard later. When your hair is covering most of the hickies, you rejoin the party. You grab yourself another drink, spotting Carlos talking to a girl with Lando smiling smugly between them. 

A pang of jealousy runs through you. Something about the way he smiles at her and the laugh she lets out makes you sick. You turn away, deciding to immerse yourself into the crowd.

“Y/n!” 

You turn and see Daniel, and you grin. “Danny!”

He hugs you tightly, “Long time no see. Miss seeing your face in the garage.” 

The two of you catch up, the conversation flowing easily with more drinks in between. Time flies as you both delve into the details of your separate lives, ones that you both have missed in the time spent apart. You don’t notice the way Carlos watches you, eyes burning a hole into the side of your head. 

“Whatcha got on your chest?” Dan asks, squinting his eyes and rubbing his collarbone to show you where he is referring to.

Your eyes grow wide, rubbing the red spot. “Ah, allergy rash I think.”

Dan nods, looking around and smirking into his beer bottle. “You know, Carlos has been looking at us this entire time. And if looks could kill… I’d be dead. Overkill.” 

You go against your better judgement, turning in the direction of the Spaniard who stares directly at you. You turn away, cheeks tinging red. “Yeah. Weird.”

Daniel chuckles, “C’mon doll. You owe me one dance before he eventually murders me.” 

You giggle, taking his outstretched hand and following him to the makeshift dance floor in the living room. The hiphop beats blare through the speaker, and you move your hips to the beat. Daniel dances along, one hand holding yours to keep you close. Maybe the alcohol was hitting a little harder than you’d like to admit, and that for the briefest of moments the feeling of Daniel’s hand around your own feels a little nicer than you thought. 

“Mind if I steal her?” 

You turn your head to find Carlos looking right past you, and towards the Australian driver. You don’t comprehend Daniel dropping your hand and his response, or the way Carlos nods to exchange a couple more words with him before he finally looks down to you. A shiver runs down your spine as his brown eyes bore into yours. 

“Let’s go.” 

He walks off, and you follow him like a lost puppy. You weave your way through the crowd, trying to keep up with Carlos’s long strides. You follow him right into a room, and he backs you up against the door and effectively shutting it. The lock licks, and Carlos’s lips are right by your ear, hand gripping your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist.

“Enjoy your time with Daniel?” He asks, grinding his groin against yours. Your voice is caught in your throat, and you fight moan. “Would you have gone home with him if I didn’t step in?”

“No,” You whimper, “No no no.” 

Carlos smirks, stopping the movement of his hip to look at your face. You feel his fingers trailing down your arm, finding their way to tangle your fingers in his own. The same hand that Daniel had in his. “You sure?” Carlos asks.

You smirk, “Are you jealous?”

He laughs, looking out towards the window. The city lights illuminate his features, perfectly contouring every dip and curve of his fave structure. Your heart beats faster, and it’s like Carlos knows because he turns back to face you. His hand releases your thigh, fingers pushing your hair back so that he can look at the love bites along your neck. He leans in, kissing each one softly. Your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the gentle touches, his soft lips, the way his fingers feel slotted between your own. 

“What if I was jealous, hm?” He asks against your skin, “What if I say that I was, that I am… what are you gonna do princesa?”

Carlos rests his forehead against yours, his amber eyes looking at you like he knows your answer, knows your next move. He fucking knows you like the back of his hand, and you know it. He nods, letting you know that you can move. You stare at him through your lashes, lowering your leg and dropping to your knees. You release his hand, your fingers undoing his jeans and pulling them down his legs to expose his thighs. You press soft kisses against them, feeling his muscles tense under your lips. You bat your eyelashes up at him, but he doesn’t notice with his head thrown back. Your fingers wrap around his hardened shaft, pumping softly as you kiss up his thighs. 

Your fingers hook around the waistband of his black boxers, pulling them down his legs and watching as his cock springs free. Thick, veiny, the head already glistening with precum. Carlos looks down at you, eyebrow raised expectantly. His lips are agape, ready to say something, but your tongue licking base to tip shuts him up. You smirk to yourself, tongue swirling around the swollen head before taking him into your mouth. Slowly, your head bobs up and down, taking more and more of him into you until he hits the back of his throat. With your hand on his balls, you continue to pump his cock into your mouth. Soft profanities fall from his lips, words of praise for you to encourage you to keep going.

“So pretty with your mouth around me baby,” His hand cups your cheek, thumb swiping a stray tear. “Making me feel better already.”

You hum, and he moans in return. Carlos’s fingers weave through your hair, holding in his fist as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. Your hands grip his thighs to steady yourself, letting your jaw fall slack and allowing him to fuck your mouth. He’s gentle, slowly pushing himself further down your throat until you gag. He smirks, pulling his dick all the way out, a string of spit following. 

“Stand up.” 

You do as he says, rising to your feet where he greets you with a feverish kiss. The kiss is needy, teeth clashing and messy. He pulls away briefly, hand cupping your cheek as he studies your disheveled state. A small chuckle escapes him, thump swiping over your mouth to rid of the excess saliva. Carlos kisses you softly, hands trailing down to the back of your thighs and lifting you off your feet. Distracted by his soft lips biting, sucking, licking on the skin of your neck, you don’t notice him making strides across the room to plop you on the bed. His bare cock grinds against your clothed center and you moan softly. Carlos’s lips make their way to your chest, with his one hand lifting the hem and pushing your shirt over your breasts. He straightens his posture, admiring his handy work. Your neck, chest, torso littered with his love bites. Purple reminders of him, reminders that you are his.

“Carlos,” You whine, “Do something.”

He smirks, slender fingers pushing your skirt up your thighs and then hooking onto your underwear to pull it aside. With his free hand, he takes his middle finger and traces your slit. Gentle, teasing, causing you to buck your hips begging for more. His middle finger retreats into his mouth, tongue swirling to collect your arousal.

“Sabe tan dulce.” Tastes so sweet. 

He pulls your underwear down your legs hastily, tossing the flimsy material somewhere in the room. With his thumbs, he pulls the lips of your pussy apart, revealing the glistening pink flesh. He sucks in his cheek, releasing a string of spit onto your cunt. You moan at the sight, spreading your legs even more. Carlos wraps his hand around his dick, pumping lightly as he leads the head to rub against your core, collecting the wetness before finally pushing into you. You moan at the stretch, the feeling of fullness as he bottoms out into your pussy. 

“Fuck,” You moan, fingers reaching for the man above you. He leans down to meet your touch, hips relentlessly snapping his hips against yours. 

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you,” He mutters, “Wanted to finish what we started.” 

Carlos pushes the mess of hair away from your face, clearing way for him to kiss you. His lips mold into yours, the kiss hard and passionate, as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. You can barely keep up, mouth unable to keep up with the rhythm of the kiss as his dick bounces you up and down. 

“Who makes you feel this good, mamita?” Carlos’s raspy voice asks, his breath fanning against your face. His hands grab your left leg, hooking it over his shoulder as his dick pounds deeper into you. You moan loudly at the feeling, and Carlos smiles devilishly, bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he admires the view below him. “Cmon baby,” He coos, teasing you, “Stupid off my cock already? Can’t answer me?” 

You can feel his fingers weaving through your locks, gripping the hair at the base of your neck lightly as he forces you to look at him. Carlos pulls out almost completely, before roughly pushing his cock back into you, begging for an answer to his question. Your eyes screw shut, “Carlos, fuck.”

“What was that mamita?”

“You Carlos,” You breath out, fingers gripping his shoulders, nails scraping down the expanse of his back, “Only you make me feel good.” 

“Mmmm,” He moans softly, “Left you so many pretty marks baby, remind you who fucks you this good. Remind you that you’re mine.”

You nod, black dots beginning to blur your vision as you feel the bubble in your stomach growing and growing. You are a mess of moans and panting below Carlos, fingers desperate to hold onto anything as you feel your orgasm approaching. 

“Look at me baby, wanna see your face when you cum on my cock.” You force your eyes to open, looking directly into Carlos’s amber eyes as he rests his forehead against yours. He fucks you harder, the sound of skin slapping against each other and the mess of moans are pornographic. You beg him not to stop, to keep hitting that spot right there, and Carlos eagerly obliges. His dick thrusts into you over and over, hitting that spot over and over until your pussy is pulsating around him and you are screaming his name. 

You don’t catch the satisfied grin on his face as you fall apart around him, the way he takes pleasure in your own. He continues to pump in and out of you, letting your ride out your orgasm and into his own. It its’t long until he’s coating your walls with his cum. Carlos collapses on top of you, a panting mess of his own. 

You hum softly, pressing a kiss against his sweaty temple and fingers gently pushing the mop of hair off his forehead. His eyes are closed, but his lips are curved into a smile. He looks peaceful, content. You lay like that for a couple more minutes before he pulls out of you. 

“So you were jealous.” You finally say, propping yourself onto your elbows and watching as Carlos walks across the room to grab his clothes. He doesn’t answer. You watch as he pulls his underwear and pants up, and then picking up your thong. He swings it in the air, looking at the thin material before stuffing it into his pocket. 

Carlos walks back over to you, looking at your bright pink pussy and his cum slowly dripping out. He takes his middle finger, collecting it and pushing it back into your cunt. You yelp at the sudden contact, eyes wide as you look at him. You feel his finger swirl around you before he pulls it out. He lifts his cum covered finger up to your mouth, and you take his digit between your lips without a thought. You suck it clean, releasing it with a pop. Carlos takes your underwear from his back pocket and gently pulling it up your legs to cover you up. 

He helps you onto your feet, and you look up at him. His expression is suddenly sullen as he studies your features.

“You said I’m yours.” You mumble.

“Are you not?” He asks, fingers pushing stray hairs behind your ear. 

“You never asked.” You defend.

Carlos takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom attached to the room. He flicks on the light and turns you to the mirror. You gasp at the bruises that litter your neck, dark and aggressive. The man behind you grins, lifting your shirt to show off his work. 

“Oh my god Carlos,” You breathe. 

“Purple reminders baby.”

❃゜·。. ·°゜✼ ゜°· . 。·゜❃

send me an ask if you want to be part of my f1 taglist!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr imagine #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz jr one shot #carlos sainz smut #formula 1 #f1 #f1 one shot #f1 fandom

[tangledinink]

Love love love your human au of the turtles!! I've had a burning question for a while though:

What do the boys assume about their relation to Splinter? I doubt they wouldn't notice the fairly obvious fact that there does need to be two biological parents for reproduction, and that they don't really look like their dad, despite having no memories before him to suggest adoption. There's no way they didn't know he was kidnapped and held captive for seven years because when you're a celebrity that sort of thing isn't hard to find. Combining these facts, I know what conclusions I would've come to. Granted, I'm not exactly the golden representation of your average child, but at the very least Donnie would've definitely wondered.

So... What's their conclusion about the situation??

Ah, thank you! And this is actually a topic I explain way more in the I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? fic! But basically, the boys, for a majority of their lives, believe that their dad is their biological father and that their biological mother, who they do not know the identity of, was abusive in some way (leading to both their father's disappearance from the public and to eventually taking sole custody of them and them moving to New York,) and/or abandoned them-- but they've never really discussed it. Here's an excerpt from the fic on the topic, conveniently from Donnie's perspective:

---

"Donnie frowned a bit, shrugging. He was loath to admit it, but Leo did have a point. Their Dad hated to talk about himself or his past outside of trivia about his acting career. Donnie had tried to ask him about their extended family once, and he totally shut down. He wouldn't even tell them what his parents' names were. And the four of them had always tried to respect that. I mean... they knew it was all really complicated. I mean, jesus, he had basically been kidnapped and presumed dead for, like, twelve years. That had to be traumatic, right?

Most of what Donnie knew, factually, about their move to New York, he had gotten from old magazine articles and talk show segments that he found online later in life. He knew what all the reports and stuff said, sure, about the abusive ex, (their mom, he thought dimly in the back of his mind, whose face he couldn't even remember,) the going into hiding, the forced isolation. But none of them had ever talked about it. He had been really little back then, so he couldn't really remember very much. His memories were more general feelings or ideas rather than actual events. He remembered playing pretend games with his brothers more than anything. He used to think that that was odd, because he had never been much of a 'pretend' kid growing up, but his therapist noted that it was common for small children to use fantasy or make-believe to 'escape' from bad situations or explain away trauma. So he supposed maybe that was it.

He remembered it being dark most of the time. And he remembered his feet being cold a lot. There was this sound that he heard in his head a lot when he thought of it, but he had no idea what it was. Shhhh shhhhh.

... But that was about it. He and his brothers, in turn, didn't really talk about it amongst each other either, or with other people. It just felt... weird. Or wrong, somehow, he supposed? Whatever."

(... And, just for fun, another small excerpt from a one-shot sidefic I did from April's mom's perspective, back when the boys were still itty bitty...)

"She had, at one point, tried to convince the boys that they could just call her “Carol,” but when she had pitched it to the group, April had gasped loudly in offense and said that that was too weird, and if anything, they should just call her ‘mom.’ And then Mikey had declared that they didn’t have a mom. And then Raph had argued that they did have a mom, she was just dead. And then Leo had refuted that they did have a mom, and she wasn’t dead, she just didn’t love any of them. And then Donnie had signed something in ASL, too quick for her to quite catch, and Leo had nodded and quickly corrected himself, clarifying that their mom was probably alive and also existed, but she didn’t love any of them and also wanted their father to die."

#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowau asks #asks #and they dont look a TON like their dad but there is family resemblance! #the boys are all half-japanese and have some of yoshis features and the general consensus in the fam has always just been that hes their da

[wildemaven]

A Cut Above

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Hairstylist!Reader

WC: 2680

Warnings: T; Mentions of food, divorce, lots of pining and fluff otherwise.

A/N: I wanted to write a Hairstylist!Reader story a few years ago, but l wasn’t feeling super confident about my writing and just never got around to it. In the last few months I’ve had this urge to get back behind the chair again, which is what sparked this fic. Still haven’t decided if I will get back into doing hair as of yet, but I can enjoy writing about it. This is not beta’d and hope it reads well cause I’ve been run low sleep. Enjoy!!

Masterlist / Series Masterlist / Next

“You done for the day?”

The question pulls you from your thinking. It’s an organized chaos of mental notes streaming through your subconscious.

“I wish. I have one more then I’m done. It’s a new client too. So I’ll be a bit longer.”

“Color?”

“No, thank god! I don’t think my feet can take another 2 to 3 hours more.” The day was filled with back to back clients— a typical Saturday in the salon. Your clients who worked long hours, were always filling up your Saturdays. “Just a cut. Benny made the appointment for him, said his friend was in need of a change— very vague about it”

“Mmm.. Benny.”

“Earth to Hannah!! Gonna need you to touch back down girlie.” Hannah was the salon receptionist, and Benny Miller’s secret admirer.

“Huh? Oh sorry, got a bit distracted.”

“You don’t say? You know, you could just ask him out, would probably be way more exciting than sitting there and daydreaming about him 24/7.”

“I do not daydream about him 24/7–“ She tries convincing you, but you know her far too well. You shoot her a pointed look— you’re not buying it. “Okay! Alright, I do think about him— a lot! But I can’t help it, he’s so…”

“Pretty?” You finish her thought.

“Yeah. He’s so pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that said Pretty Man Child Benny, might have an itty bitty crush on a cute little receptionist. So, put your big girl panties on and make a move.”

Benjamin Miller— Benny, was a long time client of yours, turned friend. He was in your chair every 5 weeks maintaining that gorgeous head of hair. Gotta look good for the ladies when I’m in the ring— his words.

As the years went on, you found you were collecting Benny’s friends and family as clients. His older brother Will, Will’s wife Nicole, his close friend Pope (still haven’t heard his real name), as well as Mom and Dad Miller. Benny kept your chair busy and you were grateful for that.

He’d text you on Monday saying he’d had a friend who was needing a cut, something about a fresh start. He was in luck because you had one spot open, so you scheduled some guy named “Fish” as your last client for the week.

“Wait really?! He knows who I am?!” Shock was written all over Hannah’s face.

“Hannah, you greet him every appointment— of course he knows who you are.”

“I think I black out the minute he walks through the door.”

“That would explain the drool every time.” You can’t help but laugh at her expense.

She rolls her eyes back at you as she gathers her things from the front desk. “Alright, I’m going to leave before you decide to carry on with this onslaught of nonsense. Going to go home and pour myself a glass of wine in celebration!”

“Celebration?? For what?”

“Benny Miller knows who I am! And he has a crush on me!!” You let her bask in her glory, as she all but floats to the front door.

“Hannah…” You catch her attention before she’s exits. “Text him! Preferably before the wine.”

“Yes mom!” She mocks back at you before the door swings shut.

*

You had 15 minutes until your appointment would be showing up, so you took the time to clean your station up a bit and set up for his hair cut.

Your shears, combs and clippers laid out on your hair cutting tray, clean cape folding on top of your station.

As you were checking over your schedule for next week, making a list of colors you needed to pick up from the beauty supply, the front door opened welcoming your client— your very handsome client.

He looks nearly 6 feet tall, and so broad. His hair is dark chestnut from what you can see peeking out from under his hat. There’s a casualness to him in the way he carries himself— a shy confidence.

“Hi! You must be Fish.” You give him your name as you make your way up to him, extending your hand out in greeting. His rather large hand gripping yours, firm but a gentleness to it.

“Did he really tell you my name is Fish?! Fuckin’ Benny.” He shakes his head, as if to fain off embarrassment. Shoving his hands in his pockets he starts laughing about it. “Yeah, he did. I am assuming that’s not actually your name though. Although, not judging if it is.”

“No, my name is Francisco Morales, but you can call me Frankie.” You notice the flush creeping up his neck— you make a mental note at how gorgeous he is before you get caught staring.

“Okay then, Frankie. You can come on back and have a seat here at my chair. Feel free to put your hat on my shelf there.” Helping him get situated.

“Let me go grab a clean towel and then we can chat about what you are wanting.”

Frankie sits himself down and starts to take in the space. You seem very tidy and organized as he glances over at your tray of cutting tools. He right away decides he likes that about you. Benny didn’t mention how beautiful you were when making him this appointment. He said you were pretty but he wasn’t expecting to be overwhelmed by how stunning you were— he knows he has to try his best to be cool and not ramble on.

He sees you making your way back to him in the mirror, his eyes locked on yours like magnets— he notices you catching him staring, but then you give him a smile that lights up your face. There’s that butterfly sensation tickling his insides, he hasn’t had that happen in a long time, but he welcomes it.

*

Arriving back to your station you take the small towel and place it on his shoulders before securing the cutting cape around his neck.

“So what are we thinking?” You ask as you begin to run your fingers through his hair, taking in the texture, density and the shape of the cut he has now.

“Uhh, I umm… I don’t know. I’m open to your professional opinion.” He didn’t realize he needed to come in with a style in mind. His usual barber usually says “Hi” then starts hacking at it.

“That’s okay.” You look at him in your mirror, his eyes already fixed on you and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

You hadn’t noticed his dimple earlier, and you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of it when he smiles. You steady your thoughts and continue to comb your fingers through his hair making note of how it lays and it’s natural growth pattern.

“You have a nice wave going on. If we work with it and bring your sides and the back in a little tighter the top will lay nicely.”

He’s captivated by everything you’re saying, and yet he doesn’t understand a single word of it. You could tell him he needed to shave his head and he’d willingly let you, no questions asked.

“How does that sound Frankie??”

“Honestly— I have no idea what any of what you just said means, but I trust you.”

“Well, I appreciate your honesty.” You find his nervousness charming. “You won’t be losing much length overall, it will be more shaping and connecting the sides to the top.” Your hands moving around his head as you try to explain your process.

“Again— no clue what you just said.”

“Got it! Enough hair jargon then. Let’s get you back and washed up first.”

The warm water hides the sweat that’s formed on your palms as you begin washing his hair. He’s settled into the shampoo bowl, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest in such a kicked back manner.

Your fingers work diligently as you begin to scrub the soapy liquid through his wet locks. As you spend ample time working over his scalp, you catch the sound of a faint moan. You don’t think he meant for it to sound so erotic, but it’s stirring a warm feeling with in you.

“Feel good?”

“Mmmhmmm..” It’s all he’s able to manage, your movements awakening him in so many ways, his spine vibrating with an indescribable desire.

Suds throughly rinsed, leave in conditioner combed through, you both get situated back at your station.

He seems way more relaxed, more chatty and asking questions as you go section by section, meticulously trimming away the unwanted ends.

His questions alternated between your professional life and personal— where you grew up, favorite food and what made you decide to become a hairstylist. In a different circumstance, it might have felt invasive— but there was an ease to Frankie that had you spilling your life story to him so freely.

In return you asked him for more about himself. He shared about his life in Delta Force, where he had met Benny, Will and Pope, who you now know as Santiago.

His life as a helicopter pilot keeping him busy most of the time. He even felt brave enough to mention his semi recent divorce. You didn’t feel like you needed to delve deeper into his failed marriage, especially for only just meeting him.

You shared the same sentiment in working long hours and how it had you feeling overwhelmed at times, like you had less free time for yourself— mentioning you were working on trying to have more fun and go out. You shared how your former partners were always annoyed with you for being so consumed with work, the main reason you hadn’t been dating as much.

Checking and cross checking the length, you’re happy with how it’s shaping up.

“How do you normally style your hair? What are your go to products?”

He looks at you with the most sincere and confused expression, nervous to share his routine with you.

“Normally it’s just straight out of the shower, quick rubbing of the towel over it so it’s not dripping, then toss the hat on.” Pointing to the battered hat he’d worn in.

“Frankie! If there’s only one piece of advice you leave here with, please let it be that you never aggressively rub a towel over your hair again!”

He thinks he should feel embarrassed but there’s a sweetness in the way you share your knowledge with him— he will make a conscientious effort to gently pat his hair dry from now on.

“Since you mentioned you are usually throwing on your hat, it’s probably safe to assume there’s not much actual styling going on?”

“Uh, yeah… Not much styling. The least amount of steps possible is my go to method.”

“While the hat vibe is cute, I would not be doing my job if I sent you out of here wearing—”

“You think I’m cute?” He cuts you off. That dimple again making an appearance, his grin slightly laced in flirtation.

“Umm, yes.” Your face feels hot, the blow-dryer not helping much, as you try to remain calm and collected.

“Hm!”

Grabbing some product and applying a small amount to your palm, you begin to distribute it throughout his hair. .

“But I think without the hat is cute too. Easier to see all of your,” You gulp at your next admission. “Attractive features.” You giggle as you finish styling his freshly trimmed hair, each strand manipulated with such precision— the new length really does add to his handsomeness.

“You think I’m attractive too?” He says shifting in the chair, his gaze still steady on you.

“Oh wow, I’m really just letting my internal monologue run my mouth aren’t I?”

He shrugs with the slightest cock of his eyebrows in response.

“And now would be a good time for the ground to just swallow me up!” You groan, hands covering your face as you attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“You’re cute when you get all flustered.”

“So you think I’m cute now? We just going to spend the rest of the night confessing our new found feelings having only just met?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He states so casually.

The rest of his appointment is filled with more flirtatious banter, a connection that you’re both very much aware of— yet neither of you stating the obvious

“Thank you again.” Frankie says holding a bag of products he insisted he leave with, wanting to branch out from his usual “hat vibe”’as you called it— said hat’s bill tucked into the back pocket of his already snug blue jeans.

“So… Do you want to set something up for next time?” Pulling out your schedule, hoping that Frankie likes his cut, and you, enough to return regularly. “I think 5 to 6 weeks would be a good amount of time to see you again.”

“Actually— I was hoping I could see you sooner than that.”

“Oh! Okay. When are you thinking?” Slightly confused, you start scanning over the openings you have in the coming weeks.

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?? I’m not follow— Oh! Ooooh!”

“Yeah….” There’s a budding nervous energy about him as you realize what he’s asking. “There’s this sports bar around the corner— the guys and I hang out there from time to time. Anyways, they have some great appetizers and craft beer on tap… If you’re open to it, we could, um go… Unless you have other plans…”

“Yes! I’d love to Frankie.”

“Yeah?!” His face instantly beaming with excitement.

“Yeah! Just let me clean and lock up real quick, then we can head out.”

*

Drinks and appetizers flowed into a moonlit walk back to your car— both of you stalling out your goodbyes.

“So, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Frankie says as his hand cups your cheek, his warm gaze fixed on yours. “I hope this isn’t too soon, but would it be okay if I kissed you?”

“Yeah.. I’d like that.” Leaning into him to close the gap, fingers carding through the nape of his silky waves.

Frankie’s lips all but crash into yours, the intensity growing from your own, eager for more of him. He nips at the plumpness of your lower lip, encouraging them to part for him. His tongue slipping inside your mouth and you can taste the bitterness from his beer still lingering.

A grip is established on your hip, his hand slowly moving around to your backside eliciting a breathy moan from deep with in you as the heated kiss escalates.

Laughter from a rowdy group of bystanders reminds you both of your surroundings.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away there.” Frankie rests his forehead on yours as he tries to regain his composure, his breath fanning across your cheeks— they’re no longer cold from the frigid air.

“Well, I most certainly wasn’t complaining. In fact, I look forward to you doing it again sometime.”

He places a kiss to your forehead, before exchanging goodbyes. He promises again to call tomorrow, and you’re already breathlessly excited for it.

Heater cranked up in your car, willing your body to adjust to the heat. You grab for your phone in your purse, pulling open your message app so you can send a quick text before putting the car in drive.

-Hey Benny, just wanted to thank you for setting that appointment up for Frankie. He’s a great guy! Super funny and hella charming.

-You sure we’re talking about the same Frankie?? 😉

-Funny! Anyways, I appreciate it and I’m looking forward to seeing him again!

-Oh! Hannah called, we’ve got a date next week!

-You be good to her Benny!

-Of course! No problem! Make sure you and Frankie thank me in your wedding toast 🍾🍾 Night!!

You roll your eyes at his last text before tossing your phone in to the passenger seat. The entire drive home you can’t get Frankie out of your head, wondering if he’d find you too eager to call him when you got home.

The decision made for you by the buzzing of your phone— Frankie’s name flashing on the screen.

Next

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier #wildemaven writes #pedro pascal

[chronically-ghosted]

So, it's October -- crazy, right? About three months ago, I got waaay too emotionally invested in Din Djarin and baby Grogu and the Razor Crest and, well, here we are. This blog served as a way to unleash the infectious brainrot of Pedro back into the ecosystem, hopefully finding another victim. What I got back, is community. I've been in fandom for over ten years and I can honestly say I've never seen a fandom that is so kind, so supportive, so eager to share and talk and engage with others.

So, in the three months since this blog was created, you lovely people continue to show up and everyday I am gobsmacked at the growth and support. I genuinely don't know how I would have survived these last few months had I not met some of you, so as the (shoddily made) gif says: thank you.

I've just now wrapped up my 100 Followers Event Challenge (y'all sent me so many fantastic prompts I had SO much fun!). If you're interested, they're on my masterlist or you can find them all here on this post. I'm taking an itty bitty break from writing for just a bit (might be getting a new job too) but when i come back, i can't wait to share what comes next for all our pedro blorbos!)

Now that I'm a bit more settled and have had the chance to meet some of these fantastic creators, I'd love to share them out with you:

My Favorite Places to Make PPCU Friends (Discord Servers):

Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe (I got invited by @jupiter-soups)

Space Sisters - give @psychedelic-ink a shout if you'd like to join!

My Favorite Compilations for Fics:

Favourite Fanfic Stories (managed by @morallyinept)

Sanctuary Database (managed by @pascalsanctuary)

Spreadsheet Digest (managed by @wannab-urs)

(these folks are also some of the nicest people you'll ever meet so please do yourself a favor and go follow them)

My Favorite Creators:

@perotovar is a next level gifmaker

@trulybetty has some of the best designs i've ever seen

@daddy-dins-girl has some of the best pedro character alignment charts -- it makes me laugh every time!

@iamdesibell has my entire heart and soul with all her fanart

@saradika keeps us fed with gorgeous moodboards and dividers

Fandom lives and dies by its community so please reblog, tag, or comment if you like a piece of fanart, fanfic, or anything else someone has created that vibes with you! If you'd like to rec something or someone, please let me know -- as you can see, i love holding up other writers and creators and i always wanna hear about your fave!

My ask box is always open for requests, questions, comments, or if you wanna just bitch about how your stupid old car failed you again, I wanna hear about that too 🤍thank you all for accepting me and my silly little stories!

#taylor talks #fic recs #100 followers event #THANK YOU ALL I LOVE YOU!

[velvetwyrme]

So Flipping Fate is my favorite Underfell Papyrus fic but what is your favorite UF! Papyrus fic?

AH 🥺❣️❣️ First off, thank you so much!! I'm glad you're enjoying Flipping Fate! :D!!!

Secondly, there's no need to apologize- my fav/s are definitely in the list you mentioned, but I'm more than happy to answer again here :]!! My favorite UF!Papyrus fic has GOTTA BE Thunderstruck. Absoluuuutely killer characterisation and development, delicious interactions and writing... I love it dearly 💖

Other notable fics (probably also in the list lololol) include; A Smile from the East and Roadside Attraction. ASftE made me fall in love with UF!Pap back in the old days of fandom, and Roadside Attraction made me adore him once again when I returned.

And since you asked so nicely, here are some more (sfw) UF!Pap/Reader recs that. also may or may not be in the list idk I didn't actually go back and check lol

Becoming Edge is a fic all about finding yourself and your identity through fashion and was instrumental in me doing the same. Really sweet!!! Pastel goth Edge... my beloved.

And speaking of pastel goth- My Soulmate is a Pastel Goth (And Other Concerns) is a enemies-to-friends-to-lovers fic with the added elements of Soulmates ✨! Love me some tempestuous soulmate fic. (Note: this fic also features Fem!Frisk as Sans' soulmate in the bg, so if you're not a fan, that's something to note ^^! Fr//ans isn't quite my thing, but tbh I'm really interested in seeing how things turn out for them here!)

Between a Rope and a Wrench, or; this skeleton is buying a lot of really weird, suspicious stuff but you will help him get it because it's your job and later because you're his friend. (Also, you choose his friendship over the possibility that you may become an accomplice in murder.)

Sound of Blooming... MAFIAFELL 💥💥!!!! It's been a bit since I read it but it's in ny bookmarks so... :3c!

A Home for Mending Souls is actually a UF!Bros/Reader, but it still counts. It's really good!! Healing from trauma! Soft moments! Slowly opening up to one another!

Till it Brews Over is a coffee shop AU where you purposefully misspell the name of your asshole regular, who just happens to be one edgy skeleton.

Also for additional fics that star UF!Pap that I enjoy/have enjoyed:

While I was looking for one of these fics it led me to realise that I STILL haven't read Fight Me! (by MsMk- not be confused with Fight Me! by Little_old_lady, which uses the same premise and is also really good, but it features FS!Sans instead of UF!Pap) Anyway, this is truly a travesty because they're a fantastic writer and I can only assume it got lost in my various open tabs >>"!! [Addition while drafting: I LOVE IT he's so sulky... I'm staring warily at the chapter count though. So much time for things to Go Wrong]

I actually really like UF!Pap in Bitty Hunt- his characterization is very much... reminiscent of that era of fic, but all the scenes with him in it are ones that have been seared into my brain !!

Another new-ish fic that I'm enjoying UF!Pap in is Honey Lemon Tea, which the summary succinctly describes it as "Papyrus finds his Grillby's... in the form of a very plain coffee shop.", and which I will less-succinctly describe it as "Anti-harem with a delightfully mysterious barista, with the obligatory awful gf"

Edit: I cannot figure out why for the life of me but the formatting looks REALLY weird on my end, but in the editor it's fine?? So if it looks weird/out of order to you please excuse this post, it seems to be some Tumblr Fuckery

#i WOULD have included 'Love? I Think Not.' purely for UF!Pap's characterisation but uhhhhhhhhh the fic (and series) is pretty much- #everything but UF!Pap/Reader lololol #i Do live for his relationship w/ Kei in that though. my little heart. i love thems. #anyway i excluded my ns//fw fic recs because uhhhhhhhhhhh this blog is meant to be Mostly sfw but if ur interested (and 18+) you can always #- hop over to my other blog and inquire there LMAO. i have tons #fic recs #doozis fic recs #underfell!papyrus #underfell papyrus #anon #inbox

[erineas]

Hi there! Hope you don't mind but I'm just wondering if you have any recs for fanfics of the skellies :D I typically love reverse harem trope ones racoonsinqueen & tyranttortoise my absolute favs but if you know any that are just one main pairing but the writing is still good, I'd love to know :D

OK, EVERYONE STOP THEIR HORSES, because it's fanfic appreciation time ✨

I've read my fair share of fanfics, most aren't finished or their authors disappeared but I'll mention them too because they still very much worth it and I. Just. Love. Themmmm!

Also I'll try listing by memory so this is probably going to be messy:

Bitty Hunt by RND_Injustice (SSLL but you're a bitty! Unfinished, has 33 chapters + 18 bonus chapters in here. 10/10 Already read it three times) My Favorite Red Scarf by RND_Injustice (Reader x UT Papyrus. Unfinished, has 34 chapters. MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE. 100/10 I want to marathon this fic with someone, if that makes sense) Fur a good time, Call by popatochisp (Reader x HT Sans. Finished, with extra chapters on Snips & Snails. Another favorite with a 100/10. Also want to marathon this one) Dirty Laundry by popatochisp (Reader x Swapfell bros. Finished. To be honest I don't remember much, that's why it's in my rereading list but it promise very good things and the feelings I get just reading bits are like-- kdjkdjkdj my heart!) On top of the Bone Pile by Lyrjok (Reverse Harem. Finished. Good writing, SSLL vibes but totally different and really good. 10/10. Rereading right now) A Mouse Among Skeletons by Duchess_Aquarius (Reverse Harem with more skeletons than the main 5 AUs. Kinda crazy, rlly, but I still ate it. Finished. Be sure to read the tags. Rlly good writing. You decide how good it is) Bones, Picked Clean by lulu-writes (Reverse Harem. Unfinished. 37 chapters. I don't remember much about it but I loved their Horrortale bros) The Skeleton Games by Poetax (Reader x UF Sans. On going, has 56 chapters by this time, SHORTY RED. I also love this one, another favorite hehe. Unexpected 100/10 to me) Aggre(v/g)ation by Llama_Goddess (Reverse Harem with UF/HT/UT Sans x Reader. Finished. Being honest again, I started reading years ago and haven't finished it for reasons that have nothing to do with the fic. I found it again and let's just say there's a reason why everyone worships this fic)

Those are ones that made my days the first time I enter tumblr. Now that i'm back, lets continue with the recent ones i've read:

House Next Door by BattleMaiden13 (Reverse Harem. On going. Has 130 chapters by this time but you're damned if you want to catch up because THAT AUTHOR IS FAST AF. I've started reading like a month ago and they already posted 25 chapters. Writing improves very fast as you're reading and there's so many things to enjoy. Delicious. 10/10) Saving Three Ex-cell-lent Skeletons by RecklesslyCaffeinated (Reverse harem with UF/HT/UT Sans x Reader. Finished with a second book on the works. ABSOLUTE BANGER. Another 10/10, made me heart bleed for skeletons and question myself) It's just a Game by Htsan (You x UT Sans. Finished. Unconventional. Read it if you like heavy angst and interactive games, and maybe hate your emotional stability... Really good, tho. 10/10. Made me cry so many times. Not gonna elaborate)

#And those are some of the longfics I remember #I'm sure there are so many more butttttt #I've been doing this for hours already #And have things to do #Also there are new ones I want to read and might recommend in the future because they look amazing #Most are hurt/comfort #They make me soft *sobs* #Good thing I left the oneshots aside #I mean the post it's not that long but this hurt to make lol #Also big shoutout to my bestie for recommend me Ex-cell-lent Skeletons and some others #She has an eye for amazing fics

[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Amnesia-Rock-Prince!Branch in Arranged Marriage AU - Plot ideas that will probably never come to fruition

SO the full plot summery of this AU, is split among three different posts, underneath the same title and all tagged. But the basics of the AU is that Branch runs away from the troll tree, shortly after Grandma's death, and ends up in Rock troll territory with a TBI, that made him lose all memories of his life before with Thrash and Barb. After Branch grows up, now going by the name of Char, he's betrothed to the Queen of the Poppy trolls, and through their journey from romance to the alter, Char learns about his birth family, for better and for the worse.

It's better explained through the posts, Just do yourself a favor and read those first.

Link to where other posts can be found - https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/rock%20prince%21branch%20in%20an%20arranged%20marriage%20au

Now Let the Plot bunnies run wild.

Plot Bunny 1: Time Travel?

I love sci-fi plots, with time Travel being a saved tag on my AO3 account. So, it's not shocking that this little bunny was popping up in this fandom for me.

Basically, on the night of Branch's first show, Brozone is sucked out from behind stage before the show, and sent to the epilogue future of the RPBAM AU. Needless to say, everyone is shocked by their future selves (with bitty as the exception, he's just excited). JD is laid back. Bruce is a family man. Clay is a CPA. Floyd ends up as a music teacher and in a wheelchair. And Bitty, is burnt into Char and is a rock king. Not mention all the future kids, and Barb.

The fic would follow the younger brothers working though their issues early by bonding with their older counterparts. Eventually, they are returned to the moment they were zapped from, their memories whipped, and the time-line continues.

Plot Bunny 2: Blood Parents are alive.

it's pretty obvious that mother and father Brozone are out of the picture by the time Branch hatches. Most likely, killed by bergans, which I do suspect is the reason that John has trauma and stemming from that his perfectionism. In this they'd be loving parents, becasue I think it's sadder and I prefer healthy relationships. I'm thinking of the names, Tia, and Branch (I like to think that since, they were taken when Char was an egg it was up to John to name him, and well, he was a teenager who just lost his dad, probably wanted to give his baby brother a connection to them).

But that didn't mean they were eaten. Their boys were some of the most stubborn, dramatic trolls in the franchise, they wouldn't go down without a fight. Rosiepuff certainly didn't, you could hear her struggling the flashback. So, in this AU they would manage to escape from their cage and hide in the Bergen Castle walls. Looking for a way to escape, only to find and empty tree when they finally managed that. To punish themselves they returned to the castle, and lived in the walls for the next twenty years, only to be found by Bridget and Gristle while they were doing some remolding. They think they are going to get cooked, and no bergen can convince them other wise. So, they make a call to Pop village.

Clay is sent, because he has a history of explaining the Bergen situation the the rest of the puttputt when the moved so this is easy for him. Along with John Dory, because he has a ride. imagine the trolls shock when Bridget escorts them to surprise Family reunion. Tears are shed, and hugs are given, Clay and John get them up to speed on modern events. Before escorting them back onto Rhonda and back to the village. Their first stop is Floyd's house, and JD gets a letter out to Bruce.

The main plot would be about the parents re-connecting with their sons, and connecting with their youngest and grandkids (story takes place in epilogue). However it's diffcult with Char mourning the recent death of Thrash and just having his third child.

Plot Bunny 3: Dimension Travel

Once more another sci-fi plot I love.

Char gets sent to the canon timeline, before the first movie takes place. Don't really have much of plot for this one, this is just to make Char clash with Creek and call out Peppy on all his lies before he hands the crown to his daughter. And marvel at the bunker.

---

That's all I got at the moment, hope everyone enjoys. Update: Prewriting has begun and prolog/first chap are complete.

#trolls #rock troll branch #Rock-Prince!Branch in an Arranged Marriage AU #BurntBranch AU #time travel #dimension travel #canon divergent au #trolls au #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls movie #trolls band together #branch x poppy #broppy #brozone #trolls john dory #john dory #trolls floyd #fic prompt #fic planning #clay trolls #trolls bruce #oc #fanfic #spruce #king peppy #branch #plot bunny #help me

[abyssruler]

THE ADEPTI’S GUIDE ON HOW TO NOT CATCH FEELINGS FOR THE STRANGE MORTAL WHO HAS A MASSIVE CRUSH ON YOUR PSEUDO-DAD

step one: don’t go to the statue for healing

pairing: xiao x fem!reader

summary: ever since you were a child, you had sworn to everyone you’ve ever met that one day you’re going to marry rex lapis, and never once has your resolve wavered. so why is your heart suddenly doing gymnastics whenever that weird adeptus fellow shows up?! he should be helping you get with rex lapis, not trying to be cute with that little happy face he makes as he takes a bite off the almond tofu you made him!

note: fem!reader, slight crack, comedy, reader is a dumbass and xiao is moronsexual that’s it that’s the fic, lumine and hu tao being wingmen, every playable character in liyue appears at some point, reader is the biggest rex lapis simp, and no you don’t know that zhongli is rex lapis

series masterlist

next step

People like to say that you’re a weird kid. You much prefer the term unique. After all, it isn’t everyday that someone makes it their life’s mission to marry their Archon.

Besides, you’ve met plenty of other people you can confidently call weirder than you. Case number one: Hu Tao, aka the Funeral Director’s granddaughter, aka your best friend. Case number two: Chongyun, your local popsicle dealer. Case number three: Xiangling, the trauma-inducer who proved to you that not everything is, in fact, edible and you should most definitely be wary the next time she offers you any food.

And case number four: Xingqiu.

You don’t think that last one needs any sort of explanation. Anyone who’s as filthy rich as him and chooses to spend their time with commoners like you instead of basking in their mora is weird (in hindsight, it wasn’t a very logical reason, but it very much made sense in your ten-year-old brain). That, and he’s a huge nerd, though that can be forgiven since he’s your main source of information regarding your future husband, Rex Lapis.

Which brings you to the conclusion that yes, maybe there’s a little bit of truth in it whenever someone calls you weird, but surrounding yourself with even weirder people cancels the weirdness out in some complex mathematical way. So while they may be, possibly, likely telling the truth, they’re also technically lying.

So, no, you’re not weird. End of story.

“Let me get this straight, you’re trying to hire me in advance as the musician for your future wedding with Rex Lapis?”

You nod, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Of course! Who else would I hire besides the best musician I know?”

“I’m the only musician you know,” Xinyan points out with amusement.

“Details! Once your parents finally get off your back about music, I just know you’re gonna be amazing!” You offer her a high five. “So are you in?”

She stares at your hand for a moment, an unreadable look crossing her face before it smooths out into a wide grin. Her palm slaps over yours in a high five.

“Well, duh! What kind of person would I be to reject a once in a lifetime’s offer of performing in a god’s wedding?” She laughs, slinging her arm over your shoulder. You smile at her easy acceptance, of not calling you weird like the other kids.

Hm. Another one recruited into your band of supporters, aka the only people who actually believe you when you say you’re going to marry Rex Lapis. Excellent.

✧

“Is this really necessary?”

“Of course it is! What kind of future wife would I be if I didn’t at least clean up my future husband’s statues?” you respond, not once pausing in your motions of scrubbing the base of the statue.

Chongyun sighs but makes no move to stop as he sweeps up dead leaves. “You know, if you channeled half as much energy as you did into your studies, you wouldn’t have to constantly beg Xingqiu to tutor you.”

“We’re eleven—wait, actually, I’m eleven, you’re still an eeny bitty kid who’s ten—but back to my point, in a few years’ time my grades won’t matter. Have you ever heard Granny Ruoxin bragging about how she got high scores when she was in school? No. Which is why I don’t have to bother putting in the effort as long as I’m passing.”

“You’re barely passing,” Hu Tao cackles from her seat in the shade away from the sun’s merciless rays, having gotten the easiest task of being the provider of food and cleaning supplies.

You frown. “Well, school’s not really important anyway.”

“Yes it is,” Chongyun argues, ever the voice of reason.

You despair at the lack of Xiangling’s presence. She’d have taken your side. Hell, even Xingqiu and Xinyan would’ve agreed with you. It’s not like grades mattered to a rich kid and a future musician.

Hu Tao suddenly sits up, a look on her face that tells you you’re not gonna like what she’s about to say. “Hey, didn’t the elders finally allow you to attend the Rite of Descension next month?”

Finally, you pause from cleaning the statue. “Yeah, they did.”

Her smile turns positively mischievous. “Doesn’t Rex Lapis give out words of wisdom each year? How about you ask him what he thinks about the importance of school?”

Your jaw drops. “No way! Like I’d ever ask him such a useless question.”

“Oh really? Are you sure it’s not because you’re scared he’ll disagree with you?” she says, egging you on.

Unable to come up with a suitable argument, you concede. “Oh, fine! I’ll ask him that, but you better prepare your apology speech for when I’m proven right.”

✧

Here is how your first meeting with Rex Lapis goes: an incredibly nervous you, the very large, very dragon-y him, and an entire audience’s worth of people at your back, watching your interaction and waiting for their turn to be given wisdom by the Lord of Geo.

It barely lasts a minute. The good thing, however, is that you managed to ask him if he thought school was important with only minimal stuttering, and that he answered.

The bad thing is that Hu Tao does not, in fact, owe you an apology speech.

✧

Within the next two months, your grades skyrocket. Your teachers are all very impressed with your improvement and asked what brought this change on.

“Love, Miss Shu Xian, love has changed me,” you tell your teacher before walking away, feeling like a character from one of Xingqiu’s novels.

“What a strange kid…” your teacher mutters as she watches you place your hand on the balcony’s railings and pretend to look wisely over the surroundings—the surroundings being the large, stained wall of the neighboring restaurant of your school.

✧

“You’ll really do that for me?” you ask, tears forming at the corner of your eyes.

Yun Jin laughs, sounding like an angel sent from above and handing you a handkerchief to dab at your eyes with. “Of course! What are friends for? I promise to sing only the very best songs and dance the liveliest dances of all.”

You blow your nose loudly into the handkerchief. “Don’t pressure yourself! I don’t need it to be the best, even your presence alone would be enough.”

“Ah, but it’s your future wedding, a once in a lifetime event, that would be no time to slack,” she argues, still managing to look graceful even after you’ve ruined her well-embroidered handkerchief with tears and snot. She places her hand on your shoulder. “Now, what has happened? You’re not normally so easily reduced to tears.”

You sniffle. “The usual.” When she purses her lips like a disapproving mother, you’re forced to elaborate. “Just some girls thinking they could pick on the weird kid who wants to marry our Archon. Nothing new.”

Her eyes soften. “I’m sorry.”

You wave her off, forcing out a laugh. “That was no issue. You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I threw a bucket of dirty water at them.” You were in the middle of cleaning another statue, not your fault the nearest thing was the bucket. They should be glad you didn’t hit them with your broom. They should be even gladder Hu Tao wasn’t there to retaliate against them.

“That was a mean thing to do,” Yun Jin says, but the amused smile on her lips tells you otherwise.

You cross your arms. “They deserved it.”

She hums. “They did.”

✧

For your fourteenth birthday, you decide to spend it hunting for geoculus in order to gift them to the love of your life’s statues. Not a very fun activity, especially since it’s your birthday and the gift-giving should be the other way around, but you console yourself with the thought that you’ll have him gift you a pool full of mora in your wedding.

Besides, it’s not like you can throw a party. It’d be very disrespectful to Hu Tao’s grandfather who just passed away, and with your best friend off on a search to find Director Hu’s soul… well, your birthday now consists of you, a bunch of qingxin flowers you picked up on the way, and the three geoculus you managed to find.

Currently, you’re trying to find a way to reach the fourth geoculus without slipping down the mountainside, breaking all your bones, and consequently dying in the process. Why do these things only appear in dangerous and high places? Oh, and now it’s raining. Just your luck.

Life would be so much easier with a vision. Geo, to be exact. No other element would suffice. You might just die if you married the Geo Archon and had, say, a pyro vision instead of a geo vision. Especially since a geo vision would be exceptionally helpful in your predicament right now.

Still, you’ve come all the way up the mountain, a little probability of death won’t stop you. Well, it probably should, but you’re already taking a leap and reaching for the vine that’ll hopefully swing you into the geoculus’s way and into the other side of the narrow gorge. No going back now, not that you ever planned on doing so.

You cling to the vine with all your might while your other hand reaches for the geoculus.

It brushes the tips of your fingers—

The vine snaps.

✧

You wake up to the feeling of your head pounding, scrapes and bruises all over your body. No broken bones though. Thank Rex Lapis.

In your right hand is the geoculus you’d been reaching for. Huh. So falling down to your almost-death wasn’t a waste after all.

Something warm pulses in your left hand. Curious, you unclench your fingers.

Your world falls apart. Tears fall down your eyes in rivulets, sobbing as you curse Celestia and all the gods—except for Rex Lapis, of course—about how awful their sense of humor is. You look down at the accursed object in your hand with betrayal.

A pyro vision.

✧

Hu Tao returns from her self-appointed mission from the afterlife, takes one look at you, your dejected expression, and the pyro vision now hanging in shame by your hip, and she immediately understands.

She points to her own newly obtained pyro vision. “Hey, at least we match!”

✧

“Oh Rex Lapis, please accept this humble offering and exchange it for something more suitable… like, say, a geo vision?”

Nothing.

You continue kneeling in front of the statue with your pyro vision in hand, posing like a man about to offer his firstborn son to the gods in sacrifice.

A few seconds pass. Then a minute, then two, three. Five minutes pass.

You’ve been kneeling for ten whole minutes. Nothing has changed, your vision still glows red. Not even a sign to indicate that he heard your pleas, something like a pebble landing in your head. But alas, there is none.

You hear a snicker carried by the wind from your right. Snapping your head to the source of the sound, you find Xingqiu leaning against the trunk of a tree, a book in hand as he watches your ridiculous display. Sighing hopelessly, you stand up from your position and make your way towards him, storing your vision safely in your pocket ‘cause hey, a vision’s a vision, no matter how displeased you are with its element.

He opens his mouth, probably a greeting, but most likely a quip you’re currently not in the mood to be dealing with, so you speak before he has any chance to.

“Yes, I know, I looked ridiculous.”

He raises his eyebrows at your words. “That was not what I was about to say.”

You lean against the same tree, pushing all your weight into your shoulder. “Then what were you about to say?”

Xingqiu looks away. You follow his gaze and find him staring at the statue of the Geo Archon you’d just been kneeling to moments ago.

“You needn’t be so upset with your vision—”

You laugh. “Because a vision’s still a vision, a sign of recognition from the gods? Yeah, I know. Heard that many times already.”

A crease forms between his brows. “Again, you’ve assumed what I was about to say.” Then he sighs, his expression smoothening out. “No, what I meant to say is that geo or pyro, vision or no vision, it did not change your goal at all, did it?”

“I guess not,” you mutter.

“Then you need not worry, friend. Rex Lapis’s future affections for you won’t be changed by a mere vision.”

You nod, slowly getting invigorated. “Yeah, you’re right.” Then, you turn a cheeky smile to Xingqiu. “You know, for someone who’s younger than me, you sure are wise.”

“Only a year younger, which is barely much of a difference when compared to—”

“Okay, that’s enough! Just remembered that I need to go to the market today and buy some tea for the elders,” you say, pushing yourself up and rummaging your pockets for mora.

“Oh, let me help. It’s been a while since I last spoke to Pops Kai.”

Finding only a couple of mora, barely enough to buy a piece of bread, you agree. “Fine, but you’re paying, rich boy.”

✧

Alright, you’ll admit that maybe you were overreacting a little bit after you found out your vision was pyro instead of geo, but you’d like to blame that one on the raging concussion you probably had after taking a tumble down that deep gorge.

Anything else that happened after your concussion faded away is a result of deliriousness from eating too much of Xiangling’s strange dishes.

✧

On Hu Tao’s sixteenth birthday, the two of you sneak in a few quick sips of alcohol. Unfortunately for you, this leads to the discovery that you are extremely lightweight. Another unfortunate thing for you is that her birthday coincided with the Rite of Descension that year. The same Rite of Descension that you’ve been religiously attending each year ever since you were allowed to.

A little tipsiness won’t stop you from going to the Rite of Descension, or as you liked to call it, the yearly wooing of your future husband.

Hu Tao accompanies you to the Pavilion where it’s held. You wave enthusiastically to Keqing, who you’ve come to know during all those years. She waves back briefly, but then returns to doing all her busy Yuheng stuff.

You stop near the railing, facing Hu Tao with a serious, if slightly dazed, look. Placing both hands on her shoulders, you lean close. “This is the day I propose. Just watch.”

Her face takes on a gleeful turn. Clapping her hands, she gestures for you to line up on the queue of people awaiting their yearly dose of wisdom from the Lord of Geo. “I wish you all the best. Onwards, oh brave soldier of the heart!”

Significantly encouraged by her words, your slightly tipsy self made your way to the line, waiting patiently for your turn. When you finally reach the front, you pull out the large cor lapis you got lucky enough to win on the market the other day, and with a slightly intoxicated grin, you walk your way to the front.

Cor lapis in hand, you raise it in an offering motion and say quietly, because no one else needs to hear what you’re about to proclaim except you and the Geo Archon, “Rex Lapis, will you marry me?”

Unfortunately, due to the previously mentioned inebriated state, you didn’t quite manage to control the volume of your voice. Hu Tao’s laugh can be heard amidst the silence that ensues after your proposal.

Molten gold roots you in place. Rex Lapis’s eyes all-knowing and just a tiny bit intimidating when directed to your mortal self in full force. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking of right now since you’re not exactly an expert at reading dragon expressions, so you stand and wait for a few moments for his reply.

However, due to Hu Tao’s laughter and your ridiculous exclamation, Lady Nigguang seems to think this is some elaborate joke. Really now, the lady should know you better. You remember once telling her your goal of marrying Rex Lapis and how she chuckled at you but never once called you strange for it.

Just before the Millelith can arrive to take you away and probably arrest you, Rex Lapis lets out a loud, hearty laugh.

It’s enough to startle everyone within hearing vicinity, including yourself.

“Hah… It has been many years since I felt such keen amusement,” his voice rumbles, carrying on over the crowd and forcing everyone to listen. “For that alone, child, I shall grant you this: return in a few years bearing that same question, and perhaps I shall answer differently.”

To anyone listening, it was obvious that this was just his way of rejecting your proposal and that he would not, in fact, change his mind even in a few years’ time.

To you, though, it meant the world.

Your smile could almost be enough to light up an entire room. “Okay! I’ll hold you to that!”

A woman somewhere behind you gasps at how casually you’re speaking to Rex Lapis, but the rumbling laughter that comes from him says enough. He doesn’t mind.

Cheerily skipping your way out of the sea of onlookers who have their eyes trained on you, you make your way to Hu Tao who’s been watching you with twinkling eyes. She claps your back with a grin, “Whaddya know, a little liquid courage was all it took to get you one step closer to your goal! I’d call this venture of ours a resounding success!”

✧

You wake up the next day with a pounding headache and clear memories of what transpired the day before.

You spend a good few minutes screaming into your pillow.

✧

They’re selling limited edition Rex Lapis figurines at the market today. To avoid the possibility of them getting sold out before you manage to get your hands on one, you’ve decided to camp out right in front of the shop since yesterday.

No one bothers you. After that little debacle at the last Rite of Descension, you’ve become known in Liyue Harbor as the girl who proposed to Rex Lapis. It garnered a few disapproving looks, especially from the old geezers, but unlike your childhood, quite a lot of people now find it funny instead of weird. It’s probably because of how Rex Lapis himself reacted in that situation.

Even the store owner is giving you amused looks as you lay on the cot you’ve set up beside his store since last night. But that was no matter, he was finally opening his shop. Looking around, you find a lot of people standing in the queue right behind you.

You stand up, grinning to yourself as you realized how much of a genius plan this is. You’re first in line.

Figurine in hand and a couple thousand mora broke, you would have missed the identity of the person behind you if you hadn’t recognized their voice. Turning around, you come face to face with none other than, “Keq—”

She quickly shuts you up by placing a hand over your mouth, her other hand holding a Rex Lapis figurine.

Oh Archons.

After dragging you to a less crowded alley, she finally lets you speak. An excited smile forms on your lips. “Keqing! I didn’t know you were a fan!”

“Not so loud!” She shushes you, then she places the figurine in a bag you didn’t notice before, hidden from the world. “And I’m not a fan. I think his views are a little outdated and Liyue could benefit more from a more modernized outlook. But… I do admire his achievements and all he’s done for Liyue.” She sees the knowing look on your face. “That doesn’t make me a fan, okay?”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“And even if I was a fan—which I am most certainly not—I’m not like you who would propose to the Geo Archon in front of Liyue’s high profiles.” She places her hand on her hip. “Honestly, I’ve been meaning to ask, but what possessed you to do such an act?”

At the reminder of your mortifying display, a bit of heat creeps to your cheeks. Thankfully, the wear and tear of time has a way of lessening humiliation, especially when said humiliating act is the only thing you’ve been hearing about for the past few months.

“It may have been extremely embarrassing, but I have no regrets! You’ll see, Keqing, one day I’ll invite you to my wedding.”

She sighs at your hopeless delusions. “There’s no arguing with you, is there? Alright, invite me if you will, but I have somewhere to be right now.” You let her go easily. Turning to you one last time, she says, “And don’t tell anyone about this encounter, okay?”

“Gotcha!”

✧

At eighteen, you meet the first person apart from Rex Lapis who’s ever managed to make your heart skip a beat. (For now.)

“Hu Tao, who is that?” you whisper frantically to the newly appointed Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

“Hm?” She looks up from the papers in her hand and follows your line of sight. “Oh! That’s Mister Zhongli. He’s our newly hired consultant. Very knowledgable in history and very, and I mean very, rich. It’s like he creates mora out of thin air, that’s how rich he is.”

Tall, handsome, smart, older than you, and rich with earthy tones and amber eyes.

Oh no.

He was exactly your type.

Almost too exact, considering your type is, well, Rex Lapis himself.

Until today, you didn’t even realize you had a type until you found yourself faced with the handsome consultant—Zhongli, his name is Zhongli. For some reason or another, you think you’ve seen him somewhere before, but that idea was quickly shot down. There was just no way you’d ever forget seeing a person like him.

Another problem is that you never even knew you were capable of being attracted to anyone who isn’t Rex Lapis, Morax, the Geo Archon, or all of the above.

Hu Tao seems to have caught on to your internal dilemma.

She raises her arm. “Mister Zhongli, come over here for a sec!”

“What are you doing?!” you hiss at her, slapping her arm repeatedly before straightening once your new object of interest makes his way over. You try your best to inconspicuously rake your eyes over him. If Zhongli notices your attempt at checking him out, he thankfully doesn’t say anything.

“Yes, Director, did you need me for anything?” he says, and good lord, even his voice held that sort of richness to it that made you want to listen to him talk all day.

Hu Tao smiles that same smile you once likened to a shark, all teeth and ready to pounce at any hint of weakness, which in this case is your quickly developing probably-but-hopefully-not-a-crush on her new employee. “Nothing in particular. I just wanted to introduce you here to my friend.”

Her hand lands on the small of your back as she all but shoves you in front Zhongli. You manage not to stumble as you’re pushed forward, internally clenching your fist and thinking of ways to retaliate against your best friend slash the bane of your existence.

You have to crane your neck up just to meet his amused amber eyes, that’s how tall the guy is.

“Ah, I believe you are the Director’s dear friend? She has spoken to me in length about you.”

You find yourself uncharacteristically tongue-tied. “Y-Yeah.” You then manage to introduce yourself with minimum stuttering.

“Well met. My name is Zhongli, the new consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.” He smiles, looking very regal and wise and infuriatingly handsome and—NO!

You have to stay loyal. Just because a pretty face appeared doesn’t mean you can cheat on your future husband… even if you’re not together yet so technically what you’re doing isn’t actually cheating.

Oh Rex Lapis, please forgive me for this severe case of adultery. I’ll accept any, ahem, punishment you’re willing to give. I promise I’ll bring you the best offering at next year’s Rite of Descension. And maybe you could, you know, finally give me an answer on my proposal—no pressure though!

Zhongli tilts his head ever so slightly like he just heard something funny.

In order to avoid committing anymore acts of cheating, you bid him a hasty goodbye. “It’s been nice meeting you, Mister Zhongli, but I just remembered I have a, uh, statue to clean up! Gotta go!”

You ignore Hu Tao’s knowing look following you as you quickly make your way out of the Funeral Parlor.

✧

“I heard you’ve finally moved on from Rex Lapis,” Xingqiu says in lieu of a greeting.

“I did not! And who told you that?”

He smiles. You’re not fooled by the slightest. That smile is a devil hidden behind the facade of an angel. “Why, our mutual friend Hu Tao did.”

✧

“You know, forcing yourself to clean up every statue of the Geo Archon isn’t going to make the crush you have on Mister Zhongli disappear,” Chongyun points out, watching you work away as you sweep dead leaves into a pile.

“How about you focus on that big fat crush you have on Xingqiu instead?”

He gasps, but your words do their trick in keeping him silent about your not-crush.

✧

Xiangling hands you a surprisingly normal dish when you next see her. “As a gift of celebration for getting your first crush, I made your favorite!”

“I don’t have a crush on Zhongli!”

She smiles. “Hehe, I didn’t say a name.”

You raise your hands in defeat. “Fine. Whatever. Free food is free food.” You take a seat on Wanmin restaurant’s stool and dig into your food.

Guoba pats your knee consolingly.

✧

It takes a good few weeks before you can stand to be in Zhongli’s presence without becoming a heart-palpitating mess. Another few weeks before you can have a proper conversation without thinking about how mesmerizing his eyes are and how nice his biceps look in his snug suit and how much you want to—

Enough!

After the initial awkwardness that is your first meeting, you find that you actually enjoy Zhongli’s company a lot. For one, he’s very knowledgable, has a good eye for scammers which led to your monthly dose of being scammed decreasing significantly. Two, he’s a gentleman. A true gentleman, not like Xingqiu who’d leave you waiting for hours at a meeting spot ‘cause he got too engrossed in reading his books. Zhongli’s the kind who offers you his coat when it’s cold and opens the door for you to enter first.

And lastly, he’s rich.

Hu Tao wasn’t lying at all, the guy is rich enough to be able to haggle the market sellers into selling their wares for a higher price then buy said highly priced wares. You once asked him why he’s working in a Funeral Parlor when it seems like he’s rich enough to have even his great-grandchildren live comfortable and wealthy lives.

His answer?

“I would like to experience working a normal job alongside the people.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he really wanted to do that, he should’ve chosen a job where he’d constantly be surrounded by living breathing people, not dead ones.

✧

You didn’t realize it then, but at the age of twenty, you meet the person you will one day be cheesily calling the love of your life.

A person is leaning against the statue of your beloved Archon, blood coating his body and smearing it on his surroundings.

The wounded stranger looks up, a guarded look in his eyes as he supports himself with a spear tipped with jade. Blood drips off a strand of his teal hair and he looks like he’s one step away from death’s door, but even then, there’s no mistaking he could still take you on in a fight and win. There’s brown spots here and there that indicate the blood has dried off, which means he’s probably been here for a while. Or maybe it’s bird poop, who knows.

You should probably help the guy, but you can do nothing but stare in horror at the bloody mess in front of you.

The stranger opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“Damn it! Do you know how hard it is to keep that statue clean?! Go bleed out somewhere else!”

the adepti’s guide on how to not catch feelings for the strange mortal who has a massive crush on your pseudo-dad

step one: don’t go to the statue for healing, or you might just meet the aforementioned strange mortal

series masterlist

next step

word count: 4.7k

note: i’d like to clarify that reader is an orphan, which means everything you’ve done so far is indeed fatherless behavior. not much xiao since we’re just establishing your relationships with various characters for future purposes, but starting next chapter he’s gonna be having major appearances. send me an ask or comment if you wanna be added to the taglist! ^^

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #fem reader #the adepti's guide

[dojunie]

SWIMMING, FOR DUMMIES; LJN [TEASER]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

swim teacher/lifeguard jeno

slight slow burn because you know idk how to get my point across in less than 9k words of build up

genre; fluff, strangers-to-lovers, reader has mild aquaphobia, college-aged but no learning is to be had

warnings for this trailer; none? cursing, nothing too crazy, brief mentions of drowning

teaser wc; 1.5k / est fic wc; 10kish but i lie / comment on this post for taglist!

[a/n: i swear to god i am a renjun enjoyer i dont know where all these jeno wips are coming from]

.

.

.

"WHO WERE YOU EXPECTING TO TEACH A BEGINNERS SWIM CLASS IF NOT SOMEONE LIKE ME?"

Jeno breaks the silence easily, stooping down to dig through what looks to be a bin of paper forms. From this angle, as he stretches for something deeper in the cabinet, all nine hundred of his back muscles seem to be staring at you through his black rash guard. 

Jesus Christ. It’s like he’s made out of steel. You wonder, absently, what it would feel like if you poked it; you didn’t know anyone that was this fit besides Ryujin, and her hugs always felt a little like being swaddled by a meat-tenderizer. 

“An old person,” you blurt truthfully. “Uh, because they’d have the most experience or whatever. Like those little elderly ladies who swim for twelve hours a day.”

"I see. I guess I'm a little different than an old woman, right?"

You glance again at his shoulder blades. They still look like they’re trying to rip their way out of his shirt. What old woman is built like this?

“A little.”

“Honestly," he continues, "You would have been out of luck either way. Most of the other instructors are still in college. But if we’re young, we’ll be able to save you faster if you’re drowning— so that’s a plus, isn’t it?”

You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. You smile drily when he turns around and he actually laughs— so you guess it was a joke— his eyes disappearing into little crescents, which momentarily distracts you from the bolt of fear that runs down your spine at the thought of drowning. In the next second he’s off again, down another corridor, herding you through a door he holds open into a more public part of the aquatic center.

You can smell the chlorine now. The dizzying scent of fresh pool cleaner floats in the air, and even with ‘Mr. Youth’ walking not even two feet from you, goosebumps still rise on your skin.

"You're the last duck, so when we get there it’ll just be introductions.”

"The last duck?"

"...Ah. No, sorry, I meant the last person who signed up for this block. It's a little hard to switch out of the kid speak when I'm here." 

Jeno flashes you a reassuring smile, and the cuteness of it catches you so off guard you don't even understand what's been said until he's pushing open another door into what looks like a waiting room. The chlorine smell intensifies. Through the glass on the other side you can see a huge pool, crystal blue, shallow and long, but before that sits a slew of what seems to be elementary school aged children, chattering and laughing and milling about without a care in the world. 

"Kid speak?" you echo slowly, wide gaze curiously fanning over their itty bitty faces, "What do you mean kid—"

"Good afternoon, ducks!" Jeno bellows out over the group, all of them whipping around to find the source of the noise and then cheerfully calling back: "Good afternoon, Seonsaengnim!"

You continue to not understand. Teacher? 

Jeno maneuvers around and through the children, to stand up near the doors next to another adult you hadn't noticed at first— a tall and (also) very handsome guy with dark upturned eyes, who is staring, obviously confused at your presence here, right back at you.

“I took a long time today, right?” Jeno asks with an exaggerated sigh. “Who’s ready to get in the water?”

The children cheer. And then it finally clicks. 

You could only imagine what look of pure, unfiltered terror lay across your face as it finally set in what Donghyuck really signed you up for. The duck comment. Why the ‘teacher’ was so much younger than you’d expected. The very carefully blank look Hyuck had given you this morning when you left your shared apartment to drive to the aquatic center. Donghyuck. Donghyuck had signed you up for a kiddie class. A class for elementary schoolers, for what looked like 7-10 year old children, to learn how to swim. 

You feel your face light ablaze.

Oh, god! That's why Jeno had been looking at you so funny when you told him you were here for this class— you were more than double the age of his average student!

Jeno clears his throat to regather the attention of his excited students, and you, horrified, look up as well.

"I’m sure most of you are bored of this speech by now. But for all my new kids: my name is Teacher Jeno. This instructor to my side is Teacher Doyoung, and our extra help in the back? With the bright pink rash guard? You can call her Assistant Helper.”

Assistant who? You almost go to turn around to find who the hell else is going to witness your misery until you realize that Jeno is gesturing at you— at you— with a very pointed look in his eyes. 

The oblivious kids only nod and smile and wave back at you before turning their attention back to the front. What?

"Great!" Jeno rumbles, hands clapping together, "Teacher Doyoung will show you guys to the changing rooms, and I want you all to store your belongings in the cubbies he shows you. For those of you that need them, bring your goggles. We'll meet on the pool deck, okay?"

Just like that, Teacher Doyoung shoots Jeno a look but then disappears out of the doors, the kids following after him just as fast. The sudden empty silence and wash of chlorine through your nose jumpstarts your overloaded senses. Your eyes lock onto his. You feel like you’re about to faint.

"Lee Jeno," you hiss. He was expecting this. He backs up immediately when you start on him.

"Before you get upset—"

"Before I get upset? So you knew I didn't know?"

You could probably count all of his eyelashes from how close you are, practically toe to toe as stares down at you guiltily. You're so embarrassed you could just die. "I… I thought you’d leave if you knew.” 

"You thought I'd leave and you still didn't tell me that this is a class for children?!"

"Dick move in hindsight," he agrees quickly. "But I was thinking, what if I just teach you one on one? Later, while the kids are doing freeswim, so they'll be too busy trying to kill each other to notice you. They all go home after that so no one will have to witness your, uh... learning. That’s what you're worried about, right?”

Oh. What?

"...Right?" he tries.

He’s offering to teach you… alone? Like during his own free time?

Your embarrassment dissipates like smoke into the air between you. Confusion slowly wins out over your agitation, you settle back off of your toes, frowning; and he exhales like he’d really been expecting you to jump him or something. "Why would you do that for me?"

He shrugs. His eyes dart away to stare at a fraying thread on one of his braided bracelets. “I just think it would suck to waste a trip here just because the website wasn't clear and you clicked the wrong age range, you know?"

"I wasn't the one who signed up. My friend did it for me.”

The venom in your voice seeps out. Just thinking about Donghyuck right now upsets you all over again. You would have to get him back soooo good to make up for this— Maybe switch out all his swim trunks for a bikini on the trip, or replace his conditioner with purple dye and ruin that 300 dollar bleach job. That would be positively evil. Or maybe you could—

"But why would your friend sign you up for swimming lessons?”

"Almost drowned.”

You barely miss how Jeno's eyebrows fly up into his hairline.

"What? Seriously? How?"

"Are you this nosy with all of your students?" 

You’re only teasing but the boy's face actually folds like he's about to apologize or something annoying like that so you elaborate. "I tried to impress a guy I liked earlier this month at a pool party, and nearly died. Absolute shitshow. Donghyuck, my friend, said the only way he was letting me near water again was if I took swimming lessons from a professional, so. Here I am. What the prick didn’t tell me was that he was signing me up for kiddie hour."

Jeno's eyes flash surprise and then another emotion you can't quite figure out before it settles back into general, ‘Wow-That’s-Embarrasing’ sympathy. Discomfort at the little lie settles lightly on your skin, rising goosebumps, but you ignore it. So what if you weren't telling the whole truth?

Jeno probably already thought you were a freak for not knowing how to swim. He definitely didn't need to know about the whole aquaphobia thing, too.

[here it is, sfd anon!!!! after your ask i got to editing this again, and... lifeguard jeno <333333]

[please leave a like if you enjoyed! interactions and comments 100% motivate me to work on these harder. thanks for reading!]

#neozonenet #nct writers #lee jeno #nct dream #nct jeno #lee jeno fic #nct dream one shot #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #jeno #jeno lee #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno x y/n #jeno drabbles #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fic #jeno fluff #jeno smut #jeno angst #jeno oneshot #jeno fanfic #nct dream fic #nct dream jeno #nct x reader #nct fic #nct imagines #jeno au

[the-lincyclopedia]

Winter holiday fics by lincyclopedia

Thanks for the tags, @cricketnationrise and @doggernaut! When you tagged me, I wasn't sure if I had any winter holiday fics. I have 12, across four fandoms. In my defense, I have over 200 fics total, so I lose track of what I've written sometimes. (Also, looking back through my AO3 account, it's like, man, I used to write. Unfortunately I've been too depressed to do much of that for a while now.) Anyway. Here's what I've got, organized by fandom:

Check Please

Deck the Halls with Balls of Holly

Ransom misunderstood the lyrics to "Deck the Halls," and he and Holster wind up making some interesting Christmas decorations for the Haus.

This is a super short one-shot featuring platonic Ransom & Holster friendship from Bitty's POV. (It's part of my series of fics based on misheard song lyrics.) The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Palentine's Day Karaoke

This fic is inspired by @softfloralbro's story "Shitty Knight's Palentine's Day Spectacular" and is basically a karaoke playlist wrapped in narration. The basic idea is that SMH has a karaoke party on Valentine's Day, and everyone serenades their friends. Set in February of Year 2.

This fic is full of SMH friendship, music, and not much else. The relevant holiday is Valentine's Day.

In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold It Can Be

In a world where the graduation kiss never happened, it's winter break of Bitty's senior year, and Bitty and Jack are both out and single. The plan is for Bitty to spend New Year's Eve with Jack at Jack's condo, but that plan goes awry when Bitty and Jack return from the airport to find a homophobic slur painted on Jack's parking space. TW for homophobia.

Basically, this is canon-divergent Zimbits getting together. The relevant holiday is New Year's Eve.

too long i've been afraid (of losing love i guess i've lost)

Dex gets disowned after coming out as gay. SMH is there for him.

Basically, angst, hurt/comfort, and platonic Frogs content, plus some platonic Dex & Bitty. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Five Times Lukas Was Homesick Plus One Time He Didn’t Have to Be

It can be hard to go to school in another country where everyone speaks a different language and no one celebrates your holidays. Luckily, Lukas has friends to help when he’s homesick.

Okay, this is a 5+1 and only one of the scenes is actually about a winter holiday, but I like that scene, so I'm including this fic on the list. The relevant holiday is St. Lucia Day.

When Lucia Day Dawns

For Lukas's senior project as a music major, he has to plan/lead a public music performance. He decides to form a choir to sing Swedish Lucia/Advent/Christmas songs on St. Lucia Day (December 13). This is the Friday before finals and everything is stressful—until the concert starts and suddenly it’s perfect.

This is another Lukas-centric fic about being Swedish. The relevant holiday is St. Lucia Day.

Carry On

Right Now

A one-shot set during Christmas break of Simon and Agatha's fifth year at Watford. Even though they're not ultimately meant to be, they made sense as a couple once.

This is very jossed by Any Way the Wind Blows, but I still kind of like it. It's pre-canon Simon/Agatha. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Stranded

After leaving Baz's house and dropping Penny off in London, Simon and Agatha get stranded in a ditch in the middle of a snowstorm. Ex awkwardness ensues.

Unlike "Right Now," this fic features Simon and Agatha as exes. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Sounds Like a Date

Baz is a barista stuck working on Christmas Eve. Simon is a handsome customer.

This is a coffee shop AU featuring a Snowbaz meet-cute. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Yuri on Ice

Ice Quality

One of Yuuri's college friends invites him to spend Christmas with her family, and Celestino approves as long as Yuuri promises to skate while he's there. Trouble is, the town's indoor rink is closed for renovations. A one-shot set during Yuuri's time in college in Detroit.

This is a pre-canon platonic Yuri & OFC fic. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Happy New Year, Otabek!

Yuri and Otabek have been best friends for four years, and Yuri's had a crush on Otabek for a while, but he never expected Otabek to like him back. Until, that is, Otabek gets drunk at the Grand Prix Final banquet and says some things Yuri doesn't expect. It's going to be a very interesting New Year's celebration in Almaty . . .

This is a post-canon Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek, and it's the only multi-chapter fic on this list (though it's still pretty short). The relevant holiday is New Year's Eve.

Sherlock

Over the Table and through the Giggles

John has insisted on hosting a Christmas party. Again. Everyone but Sherlock is drinking, and John is telling stories about Sherlock, and suddenly Sherlock decides to kiss John. Plotless fluff.

This is a canon-divergent Johnlock getting-together scene based more heavily than you might guess on my sober-but-sleep-deprived friends and me being ridiculous in high school. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

I'm guessing a lot of people have been tagged, especially from the Check Please fandom, but I'm going to try to pull in some Queen's Thief folks. I tag @worldsentwined, @newtsoftheworldunite, @hoeratius, @eponymiad, and anyone else who wants to play!

#a lin original #fanfiction #tag game #holidays #check please #omgcp #omgcheckplease #carry on #simon snow #yuri on ice #bbc sherlock #sherlock #christmas #new year's eve #st. lucia day #valentine's day #online friends

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Can we get a Jack / Elvis story? I loved his banter with Elvis in Hawaii !

Why of course you can, sweet anon! Makes me so happy you enjoyed that bonkers segment. I’ve got another, similar request for the same lying about here somewhere, I look forward to cooking something up as the trouble and the joy of these two are being so wonderfully alike and when they’re good, they’re real good.

Stay tuned for an early 60’s beach fic “Wouldn’t it be Nice” which I wrote with sweet @ab4eva and will be coming soon (maybe this weekend?) and features a substantial amount of baby Jack chaos.

But I’m sensing your request is more to do with one on one time between the two and to be honest I really want to explore that myself. Curious if y’all have an age you’d prefer for Jack? Itty bitty or more of a pre-teen terror? Xoxo

#thanks for the #sarge prompts #Jack prompts #Jack asks #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine

[pikapeppa]

Astarion/Tav: Trouble

The first chapter of my Astarion/Tav fic! You can read here on AO3 if you prefer. ~3800 words, rated M for blood/violence (but the fic on AO3 has a little bit of rated E smut already).

****************

Brynn Bladetongue was trouble. She had him wrong-footed from the day they met, and he did not like it.

The trouble began a mere few hours after Astarion joined her and Shadowheart’s quest for a tadpole cure. They had just finished pulling an odd and incompetent wizard out of a malfunctioning teleport, and while Gale was nattering to Shadowheart about his adventures dabbling in clerical magic, Brynn sidled up to him.

“So,” she said. “You’re a magistrate, are you?”

“That I am,” he said easily. “But if you’re thinking of calling in any favours back in Baldur’s Gate, think again. A politician I may be, but I’m a scrupulous one.”

“Right,” she said. “And a lower-ranking one, I’ll wager.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The state of your jacket and boots.”

He raised his eyebrows. “My—? Excuse me?”

“Your jacket and boots,” she said. “The jacket’s fancy but faded, and your pretty gilt thread is going in some places. And your boots look like you shine them up regularly, but the soles are wearing thin.”

For a moment, he was tongue-tied: something that rarely happened to him, if ever. But he quickly recovered his aplomb. “If you must know, I’m dealing with a bit of gambling debt at the moment,” he lied. “It doesn’t leave much wiggle room for new finery, as much as I might wish it did.” He gave her a wry look. “I do love a good bespoke suit complete with gold thread and jewels.”

She smiled. “I had a feeling you were the sort of man who enjoys some proper tailoring. But I didn’t take you for a gambler.”

“Well, it takes all sorts, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does. And is gambling your only vice?”

What was it with her and the questions? He smiled at her: a slightly tart smile. “Is there some reason behind all this questioning? I don’t blame you for being interested in yours truly, but it’s starting to feel like a courtroom interrogation.”

She laughed. “Fine, fine, I’ll lay off. But I have one last question for you. One last little bitty question, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

He sighed. “Fine, out with it.”

“Are you a vampire?”

If his heart was still capable of beating, it would have stalled for a moment. Without even batting an eye, he let out a rolling laugh. “A vampire? What in the world possesses you to ask such a thing?”

“The red eyes, for one.”

“Ha! Pot, meet kettle,” he said, and he gestured from himself to her face — a slate-complexioned face punctuated by deep crimson eyes.

“Touché,” she said with a smirk. “But there’s also the matter of the bite marks on your neck that look suspiciously like fang marks.”

Blasted fuck, he thought. He’d been hoping to hide the marks with the collar of his jacket for a little longer. He hadn’t yet had the time to charm these people into not attacking him when they found out what he was.

He let out another laugh. “Ah, that’s why you asked about other vices.” He gestured at his neck. “You think this is the result of some delightfully depraved sex practice? Well, you’re right. That’s exactly what it is.”

Her smile widened in a distinctly impish way. “Of course it is.”

He felt a pinch of annoyance. How dare she look at him so knowingly? And how dare she figure out the truth before he was ready to reveal it?

He gave her a look of exasperation that was only partly feigned. “Consider this, then: if I was truly a vampire, how on earth could I be walking around in the full light of day?”

“All right, I’ll admit that piece doesn’t fit together. But still, I have a fun little feeling about you.”

“You minx,” he said coyly. “Enjoy that feeling. Use it to keep yourself entertained.”

She smirked. “Why would I need to do that when I can just listen to Gale instead? Which reminds me — hey, Gale!”

He looked up. “Yes? How can I help?”

“You’re an accomplished wizard, right? What can you tell me about abjuration magic?”

Gale’s face lit up. “What can I tell you? Oh-ho, what can I not tell you is the more apt question! Now, the first thing you need to know about abjuration is that it requires the ability to effectively split your mind between multiple tasks or persons…”

Brynn shot Astarion a quick wink, and he returned it with the most harmless don’t-mind-me smile he could muster. But in truth, he was displeased. And a little unnerved. Damn it, this woman was cleverer than he’d anticipated. He was going to have to seduce her as soon as he possibly could to get her firmly in his corner, while also being on his guard against any other pesky insights she might have. Ugh, why was she so perceptive, anyway? Was it part of her drow manipulative guiles?

In any case, she was trouble, and the best course of action would be to stay pleasantly neutral with her until the opportunity presented itself to lower her defenses by luring her into his bed. Or whatever passed for a bed in this ghastly wilderness.

Unfortunately, what he didn’t account for was the exact thing that Brynn had been needling him about: he did have a vice, in a manner of speaking, and one that had never been properly fed before. Rats didn’t count, after all, and Astarion refused to drink from a rat ever again — not fucking ever. But as the days went by and his only successful kill was a rather small boar, his hunger began to nag at him more and more: enough so that he was having difficulty ignoring the thumping pulses of his companions as they wandered around in the wilderness looking for a lead on a cure.

Then came a day when their little group stumbled into a particularly nasty fight. A group of goblins descended on a trio of adventurers at the gate to some sort of stronghold in the wilds, and Astarion and the others got dragged into the fight by sheer proximity.

The fight was a wickedly messy one. By the time it was done, the ground was liberally spattered with blood: goblin blood, mostly, but human blood too, and a little from Brynn as well. She’d taken an unfortunate arrow-graze to the shoulder, and as Astarion and the others trotted over to join her, he could feel the hunger pooling in his mouth. There was so much blood on the ground — so much delicious blood sprayed everywhere he looked. But Brynn’s blood in particular smelled… gods, so fucking rich. Sweet and tangy in a way that reminded him of the pomegranate syrup he once used to love. By the hells, he was starving.

He kept his wits as they wandered through the druid’s grove, and he managed to be his usual charming self when they made camp that evening. But that night, after the others had settled down to rest, Astarion found himself hesitating before sneaking off to hunt. What was the point of trying to hunt, after all? He knew he wasn’t going to have much luck in this area. All of the nearby animals were protected by those bloody druids.

His eyes strayed to Brynn’s tent, and his mind wandered to the little wound she’d suffered this afternoon. The rich scent of her blood, how brilliantly red it looked against the velvety grey of her skin… Gods, he was practically slavering. And before he knew it, he was tip-toeing over to where she lay on her bedroll.

Stupid, he thought. This is obscenely stupid. But he was starving, and being this hungry reminded him unpleasantly of being back home, and he did not want to feel this way — no, he refused to feel this way. He refused to feel so fucking weak and craven. All he would need was a tiny sip: just a quick little mouthful to coat his tongue and slake his thirst, and then he’d be back to his usual self.

He knelt beside her. Her head was turned to the side, and the vein was thumping at the side of her throat, like a pretty little beacon inviting him in… He swallowed hard, then bent over her. He’d be done before she even knew it—

She inhaled sharply, then sighed and opened her eyes.

“Shit,” he breathed.

She yelped and sat up straight, headbutting him in the process.

“Ow!” He stumbled to his feet and slapped a hand over his mouth: he’d cut his own lip on his teeth.

Brynn scrambled onto her knees. “Astarion! What the fuck?” She rubbed her forehead. “Argh, that hurt like a bitch!”

“Keep your voice down!” he hissed.

“You started it,” she retorted. She lowered her hand and inspected her fingers, then arched a brow at him. “No blood, unfortunately for you.”

Fuuuck. “Wh-what do you mean?”

She smiled: that impish little smile that she wore far too often for his liking. “I was right, wasn’t I? You are a vampire. You were going to bite me!”

He wilted. There was no point denying it anymore. “It’s not what you think. I’m not some monster. I feed on animals — boars, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get. I’m just…” Damn it, this was awkward, and he did not like it. But humbling himself was the only choice he had right now. “I’m too slow right now, too weak. It’s been slim pickings for the past few days.”

She twisted her lips ruefully. “And I suppose the druids won’t be too pleased if you go around chowing down on their friends since they’ve allowed us into their Grove, however reluctantly.”

“Something like that.”

“Hm,” she said. “So what, you were just going to bite me while I was meditating? Even though it would have woken me up?”

“Ye-es. But look,” he said hurriedly, “if I just had a little blood, I could think clearer, fight better. Please?”

She was frowning up at him now: a thoughtful frown, not an angry one, and it was somehow worse than her mischievous smile.

“What?” he said testily.

“Why didn’t you just—”

Without warning, he was awash in memories. Kneeling on the cold stone floor. Cazador standing over him, a cruel smile on his pale face. ‘Eat it, worm.’ The wriggling little body in his hands, squeaking like mad and slick with sewer grime, nausea and hunger warring in his gut — No, stop, stop this, he didn’t want to think about this, stop.

He stepped back and dragged his mind away from her, and she stumbled a little too and rubbed her forehead. “Shit, this fucking tadpole, I — I didn’t mean to…” She lowered her hand and gave him that unnervingly penetrating frown. “That man. Who was he? He made you eat rats?”

Astarion clenched his jaw. This tadpole mind-invasion shit was so unfair. He did not want anyone to see the things he didn’t want them to see. “That man was my master,” he said grudgingly. “I ate whatever disgusting vermin he picked. So you can see why I’m slow to trust you. But I do trust you,” he lied. “And you can trust me.”

She studied him in silence, and his spirits sank a little more. It looked like he was going to have to kill her and the others to get away alive, which was a shame. He really had been finding it useful to camouflage himself among a group. But oh well, such was life.

Then she shrugged. “All right. What do you need?”

He blinked. “I… sorry?”

“What do you need, exactly?” she said. “You said you just need a little blood, right?”

“Uh, yes,” he said blankly. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

“All right.” She settled cross-legged on her bedroll, then gestured at him. “Come on down here and have your little bite.”

He gaped at her. Was she quite serious? She seemed to be. She wasn’t even giving him that shit-eating little smile of hers. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” she said. “But I’ll warn you, if you bite me for too long, I’ll scorch your gorgeous hair clean off.” She snapped her fingers, and a small wreath of flame encircled her hand.

Astarion flinched back. What in the—? He’d never seen her do that before. How was she able to conjure flames without uttering a spell or strumming that harp of hers? He didn’t know that bards were capable of performing magic if they weren’t, well, performing.

She flicked her wrist, and the flame went out. “Astarion, come on, let’s get this done. I’m going to lose my nerve if you just keep standing there like a petrified bugbear.”

“All right,” he said hastily. “Er, thank you.” He kneeled beside her, then hesitated. He’d never actually bitten a person before, and he’d never bitten any creature without the intent to drain it dry. How exactly was he supposed to do this?

She made a little face. “So what now? Do I lie down, or what? Maybe I should lie across your lap? Oh, I know — here, open your legs.”

What? A pinch of reluctance raced down his spine, and he hid it with a smirk. “Open my legs? What exactly do you have in mind here?”

She grinned. “Don’t be dirty. I’m just thinking I can sit between your legs and rest back against your knee while you bite me. If I’m doing this, I want to be comfy.”

“Ah. Yes, that would be best,” he said, with a confidence he didn’t feel. “Come on, then.” He sat back and parted his legs.

Brynn shuffled between his legs and leaned back against his bent knee. “All right, go ahead,” she said briskly, and she pulled her silvery hair to the side.

Her pulse was beating in her throat, like the delicate flit of a butterfly’s wings. Astarion stared at it for a second: that tiny fluttering pulse, the blood that it implied, the rush of heat that was soon to cross his tongue…

He leaned in and grazed her neck with his teeth.

Her breath caught, and he instinctively cradled her head to still her. “Easy,” he murmured, and he pierced her flesh with his fangs.

A spurt of blood washed over his tongue: hot, smooth and rich like velvet, the salt and tang of a perfectly-tender cut of meat. She gasped and tensed, but as Astarion hungrily lapped the blood from her wound, she shivered and relaxed until her weight was pressing against his leg.

Without lifting his mouth from her neck, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to keep her propped up. Gods, she tasted heavenly. He’d not tasted anything this good in fucking centuries. Boar’s blood was fine, especially after two hundred years of nothing but putrid rats. But drinking Brynn’s blood was like the difference between watered wine and aged Amnian port, and he couldn’t get enough. The more he drank, the better he felt: not just stronger, not just like his hunger was being sated, but… good. No, not just good: he felt happy.

Then she lifted her hand and slid her fingers into his hair.

Something in his gut quivered. Why was she touching him? He hadn’t expected her to touch him. Her fingers were just sitting there on his head, her fingertips pressing gently into his scalp, not pulling, not trying to hurt — what the hell was she doing?

She pulled in a slow breath, then spoke on a sigh. “Fangs out now or I’ll turn your pretty hair to ash.”

That actually made him smile. He lifted his head and wiped his chin, then tutted. “Oh dear, you’re still bleeding. Do you have a bandage?”

“In my pack, maybe,” she said. “You’d better get it.”

Her speech was a bit slurred. Perhaps he’d drunk a little more of her blood than he should have. “Sit up and I’ll fetch it,” he said.

She sat upright, and Astarion slipped away from her and went to get her pack. When he returned to her bedroll, she was curled up on her side with her eyes closed, and the blood had trickled from the bite wound in her neck to the front of her throat.

He studied it with interest — ooh, interest only, but not with the same all-consuming hunger as before. Success! He kneeled beside her and shook her shoulder. “Brynn, wake up.”

“Mm?” she mumbled.

He tsked and pressed the bandage-cloth to her neck. “Come now, I didn’t drink that much. You ought to sit up now and have something to drink.”

“Gods, not blood, I hope,” she said. Then she started to laugh.

He scoffed. “Come on, sit up. There’s a good girl.”

She groaned and pushed herself upright, then took over his hold on the bandage, and he rifled in her pack until he found a gourd of apple juice. “Drink this, all right? I’ll be back. I’m going hunting. Away from that damned grove, of course.”

“You’re leaving after all that?” she exclaimed. “At least buy a girl a nice meal after you bite her.” She giggled and unstoppered the gourd.

He smirked. She was going to be dreadfully easy to seduce when the time came. “Remind me tomorrow when we go back to the Grove, and I’ll do just that.” He stood up. “Get some rest, now. Don’t wait up for me.”

She lowered the gourd from her lips. “Hey, before you go: I think you should tell the others that you’re a vampire, too.”

“Technically speaking, I’m vampire spawn,” he said delicately. “Regardless, why would I do that? Unless you think they might offer up their necks, too?”

She scoffed. “Maybe, if you’re lucky. But it’s more that they’re going to figure it out sooner than later. It’ll be better for them to hear it from you than to find out by accident the next time you get a little too peckish.”

He waved her off. “No no, there won’t be anymore midnight surprises, I can promise you that.”

“Still, you should tell them. Why hide it? It’s what you are.”

He gave her a flat look. “You say that as though I’d be telling them I’m secretly a fluffy bunny rabbit. Confessing that you’re a vampire isn’t exactly a nice revelation.”

“But it’s what you are,” she insisted. “Are you really going to spend the next who-knows-how-long pretending you’re just a regular elf? Wouldn’t you rather just be yourself?”

That unnerving squiggly feeling unfurled in his gut again. Where was she even getting these stupid ideas from? “And what would you know about pretending to be something you’re not? Everyone knows you’re a drow just by looking at you. It’s not exactly something you could hide, even if you wanted to.”

She arched a brow. “Actually, the joke’s on you. I’m not a drow.”

He frowned. “You’re…? Yes you are.”

She shook her head. “I’m half-drow. My mother was a wood elf.”

That was a surprise. She looked like she was fully drow. “Interesting. Still, you’re splitting hairs. Half-drow is still a drow as far as everyone is concerned.”

Her smile flickered for a split second: a very brief split-second, but enough that he noticed. Then she laughed lightly. “That’s truer than you know. But it’s also kind of my point. Everyone can think whatever they like of me. I am who I am, and I’m not trying to be anything else. I think you should do the same.”

“Well, thank you for the advice,” he said. “I’ll sleep on it.”

“No you won’t. You don’t sleep.”

“True.”

She grinned. “Is that your way of saying I can shove my advice up my ass?”

He actually laughed at that. “Don’t be so crass, my dear. It’s unbecoming.” He gave her a frank look. “Seriously, though, thank you. This was a gift. I won’t forget it.”

“Anytime.” She tilted her head. “Well, maybe not anytime, but… you’re welcome.”

He smiled faintly, then turned and headed for the woods with a spring in his step. Damn, but he felt good enough to skip. Drinking animal blood had never made him feel this lively.

As he sidled into the shadows, though, he found himself considering her advice. Telling the others what he was, being himself… It was a preposterous idea, really. Brynn might’ve decided to trust him — by some miracle or sheer idiocy on her part, really, since he hadn’t exactly put his most charming foot forward tonight. But he wasn’t so sure about the others. Shadowheart would certainly be suspicious, and that charming Lae’zel would probably threaten to behead him on the spot. Gale, though… Hm, Gale could probably be talked around, especially if Brynn vouched for him, since Gale had a soft spot for her. And what better way to get Brynn to vouch for him than to win her over with a little well-placed sex? Damn, he’d have to make a point of bedding her as soon as possible.

And yet… Maybe she had a point about trying to hide his true nature while he was travelling with a group. Who knew how long it would take to find this Halsin person or the githyanki crèche? Their little group had already been together for a week, and they were no closer to finding a cure now than when they’d met. Did he really think he could keep up pretenses until a cure was found?

But if he did reveal himself, and if the others did accept him without trying to kill him or drive him away… Honestly, the idea did hold considerable appeal. If he could reveal himself as a vampire, then he could feed on the people they killed in combat. He wouldn’t have to feed on animals anymore!

The thought spurred a little wriggle of excitement through his limbs. Damn it, Brynn was right, wasn't she? He ought to tell the others he was vampire spawn. And for reasons that he couldn't entirely formulate, it annoyed him that she was right. How dare she have actual good advice when they’d only just met a week ago? And that was on top of her irritating insights and her whole getting-into-his-memories thing, which was far from ideal.

At the same time, her annoying cleverness could make her quite useful if she was using it against other people who weren’t Astarion himself. Not to mention that hint of powerful magic she’d shown off with that flaming-fingers trick of hers. Once he had her thoroughly tied around his little finger, then he could use her talents for his own purposes. Maybe… Sweet gods, maybe she would come home to Baldur’s Gate with him and help him kill Cazador. Maybe she could help to set him free for good!

The idea was so beautiful that he almost laughed out loud. Ah yes, Brynn Bladetongue was trouble. But Astarion was no stranger to trouble, and if he played his cards right like he always did, he’d be able to make use of her particular brand of trouble before this whole tadpole debacle was through.

**************

You can read more here on AO3, if you like -- 7 chapters posted to date!

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion/tav #astarion x tav #tav/astarion #tav x astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #pikapeppa writes

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Tiny Not Sober AUs for DC/DP to encourage my hyper fixation:

1) Jack Fenton is the time traveling clone/son of both Superman and Batman. An organization mixed their DNA. A scientist felt guilty about raising a baby to be a weapon so they stole the baby. Would have given them over to the heroes. Didn’t happen. Baby got lost in time to become Jack. He’s thrilled learning this when it comes out after the organization is exposed and the heroes look for the baby.

2) Okay so I read a fic where Maddie is the one gunho about dissection and stuff while Jack FREAKS out, saving his son. I wanna use that idea and have Jack discover Danny is Phantom when he was walks into the lab to find his wife HURTING THEIR KID. He stops her, learns everything, tries to help his son and is forced to knock Maddie out. He takes Danny and Jazz, running to Gotham to protect them because Jazz was also locked up because Maddie learned she is liminal. Jack meets a very nice man who runs a club he works as a bouncer for while keeping his kids safe. His kids were making friends and his boss was awesome about the fake ID stuff. Now if only that furry wasn’t breaking things at the club and his son’s ghost enemies didn’t follow him

3) I latched onto Jack. I don’t know why. But okay so Jack and Maddie get divorced after the portal thing because they found Danny going into it, freaked and Maddie didn’t take it well. Jack refuses to let her hurt him and divorces her. Her claiming her son is half ghost, evil and must be destroyed gets held up in court.

Then Phantom shit happens and everyone figures it out really early. Maddie is keeping the portal open and shit. I’m a little not sober as I write this so… I will expand later if asked. Jack decides he needs to call up his old friend from college he made before he got into ghosts: Barry Allen, forensics scientist. Why? “Oh he’s the Flash. The guy was BAD at hiding it. Like super bad.”

*proceeds to not see that Vlad is evil until Danny spells it out* “ah. Oh maybe it’s cause we dated.”

Cue record scratch and insanity.

4) Ellie out of nowhere rapidly gets sick. Trans!Danny needs to mix her DNA with someone else’s or she’ll die. He panics and uses a random DNA sample from the ghost zone cause there’s a ghost there with an obsession for science he was visiting. The DNA is of either: Tim or Dick.

Ellie gets deaged to newborn and Danny freaks out. Of course now he’s aware he needs to tell the other parent cause it’s be fucking rude otherwise. Luckily, he had slept with the other ‘parent’ long enough it fits. Danny has some help acting as if it was a pregnancy out of nowhere. As in ‘didn’t notice at all’. Mostly doctors help faking it and some illusions.

He then contacts the other dad.

Or: Ellie’s orb gets absorbed and now Danny has to give birth so he seduces the other person so Ellie can have two dads. Or he just has to find someone to do that with?!?

5) … I have a thing about pregnancy fics and kid stories but like: some rouge kidnaps trans!Danny cause his DNA was in the system after his parents had him and Jazz be put into it before he went ghost. Why? Cause Jack was worried that his connection to his cousin Clark would be discovered. Because Jack knew Clark was Superman and worried. (Also: this AU has the parents knowing from the get go cause I keep trying to find a fic like that, with good parents.)

But so like I did some bitty gritty research on this but fuck it its a world with ghosts and superheroes. I don’t care if it doesn’t match with reality. Danny’s DNA has him being riven to be a genetically compatible person to one of the bat kids. Like any child born from them would be the ‘perfect’ specimen or bled or whatever. So now Danny got snatched and pregnant and the Batfam saves him cause Jack calls up his cousin. They find out and it’s chaos.

6) Trans!Danny is the twin of Damian cause I’ve only seen it once but the sentance: you picked a name for yourself but go by another is stuck in my head and also the shenanigans of Damian learning his twin survived, is really a boy and all is fun. Bonus: Ellie is a baby so Damian is convinced he’s an uncle.

He’s not wrong.

#danny phantom #Batman #trans Danny #unsettling things #demon twins #I think that’s the tag #look #I know women get shit on #but I also find that #the narrative is never bad mom #it’s always bad dad #dc and dp