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mywritingonlyfans · 9 months

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Rapture. // Cillian Murphy X Reader. (Smut!)

prompt: You're younger, and love partnered with Cillian in filming a movie. He's developed certain feelings for you and finding himself struggling with them recently, until things get worse with the idea of a sex scene being added to the script. (age gap, wax play and some other sex stuff)

words: 4,3K.

He had received the script update that morning, and as he saw your eyes shift away from him during casual conversations before rehearsals, he knew you had read the new scenes. Both of you were aware of the possibility of that much-discussed sex scene that the director was considering adding. However, neither of you had imagined how it would play out, and the thought of being partially undressed in front of each other felt somewhat odd. Still, Cillian couldn't help but envision the words he had read earlier that morning coming to life in just a few weeks' time.

Now, you were sitting across from him, wearing a loose blouse and comfortable shorts, with your legs crossed. Your fingers tapped lightly on the script as you read your lines. As the others left the room, he realized that your nervousness wasn't about needing to rehearse in a few minutes, but about him being there. Cillian had initially dismissed his thoughts about you, attributing them to the recent divorce he was going through. However, he soon realized that these feelings were more than just passing thoughts.

He had already developed a pure and genuine admiration for you. He found himself lost in daydreams of conversations you could have, where he could rest your head on his chest and kiss your forehead, assuring you that everything was alright. Just as he found himself reliving the moments when you would get excited and talkative about the books you were reading after he mentioned that he had already read them. Each time you passionately shared your thoughts and enthusiasm for the stories, he couldn't help but be captivated by your animated expressions. The way your eyes would light up, the gestures you made, and the genuine joy in your voice made him smile, even long after the conversations had ended.

Yet, your expressions, your smiles, and your worries were too precious for him, but he reminded himself daily that such feelings were wrong, even though he couldn't stop them from growing.

What used to be harmless had taken a different turn after those new scenes were added to your interactions. Reading the scene had been somewhat painful, but seeing you there in person made it even more overwhelming (though not necessarily bad). The room was small, with scented candles around, something the director believed would help the actors feel at ease, though that wasn't the result Cillian was experiencing. He was practically lying in front of you, trying to make himself comfortable, avoiding looking into your eyes, though he hadn't noticed that his hands were sweaty and his breathing was heavier.

Still, he mustered the courage to gaze at you for a brief moment, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling. "You've read it, haven't you? How do you feel?" Your nervous laughter was adorable, and your hands tightened around the script, making him notice how delicate and smaller they were compared to his own. "Yeah, I read it," your voice sounded weak, and he waited for your prolonged sigh before you continued. "I've never done something like this before, not even in theater." His face turned red, and he tried to comfort you with just a look. Touching you at this moment felt like a terrible idea, but he still did it, sitting next to you, making sure his shoulder touched yours. Contrary to what he thought, you seemed to relax at the contact, appearing more relieved. "It must be strange having to do this scene with me, given that I have no experience. Sometimes I feel like I'm not bringing positive results to your work." He immediately shook his head, hating it when you belittled yourself. You were incredibly talented.

Still, he lingered on those words. How inexperienced were you really? He had to control himself not to sound breathless as he continued, "You actually make it more enjoyable, and it'll be fine. If you agree, we can go through the lines before filming the scene. And if there's anything I can do to make you feel more at ease with this or anything else, I'll be right here." You turned to him, your angelic face now less worried, and nodded, unsure of what to say. There was a comfortable silence, and Cillian found himself smiling with closed eyes. Stopping these thoughts might be better, but they were inevitable. All he could do was wait and deal with it when the time came, even if there were more scenes after this, as well as marketing and interviews after all the filming...

...

He woke up feeling hot, drops of sweat on his temples and his chest damp. His mouth was dry, and his mind was still on your slightly parted lips, imagining how they would grow wetter as you felt him on your skin the previous night. He felt tight in his shorts, and your scent near him caused a pounding in his head. You were peacefully asleep as if you had never given yourself to him, as if you hadn't suggested adding more intensity to your lovemaking after exhausting all your muscles and neurons together. He hugged your body tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer against him. You snuggled into him, and he brushed your hair away from your face and neck, kissing the spot with caution, yet urgency, until you slowly woke up and reciprocated. Your touch was delicate and gentle, just as he had fantasized before, and it fed his mind entirely.

And you felt like you could still taste yourself on him as he intensified the kisses, and your control was slipping away with each firm squeeze he gave your hips and how solidly hard he was against you. Cillian was aware that you enjoyed it—the marks left, the momentary pain when he bit your thigh, and the darker hues that you hid the next day from the intense way he kissed your breasts while you rode him. Your serene eyes and slightly parted lips showed calm facial expressions, and you found yourself surrendering to him fully. Despite no apparent reason except him being older than you, and even though it might be considered inappropriate, he found himself enjoying the thought while your features became even more devoted.

He unbuttoned your last buttons, leaving his hands free to explore every inch of you, and smiled at your soft moan when his fingers touched the marks under your breast. He kissed the spot, running his tongue over the sensitive skin, and grunted at your soft whimper. Your head was buried deep in the pillow, and Cillian didn't hesitate to position himself so he had a full view of you.

"I have an idea, I think you'll like it," he whispered, out of breath, and you chuckled in response. The room was still dark, far from dawn, and the only illumination came from the scented candles you kept on the nightstand to create a soothing sleeping environment. He had them well-reserved in his mind at the moment.

"Can I hear it first, sir?" you asked curiously, completely surrendering to this. Cillian loved how you trusted him without even needing to hesitate, even though there was no apparent reason to trust him other than him being older than you, and even though it might be considered inappropriate. He found himself enjoying that thought as your features became even more devoted. He nodded and unbuttoned your last buttons, leaving his hands free to explore every inch of you, smiling at your soft moan when his fingers touched the marks under your breast. He kissed the spot, running his tongue over the sensitive skin, and grunted at your soft whimper. Your head was buried deep in the pillow, and Cillian didn't hesitate to position himself so he had a full view of you.

"I'll try it, and you'll tell me if it's not okay, alright?" You were a bit whiny and clearly still sensitive from the previous hours, and he loved that. Your gaze was satisfied, and your muscles visibly relaxed; he loved the effect he had on you. You nodded, "I'm okay, Cill." Your hands went to his hair as he moved to your collarbone, showering it with kisses, bites, sucks, and eventually, firm grips. He could taste the flavor of your moans and cries on the tip of his tongue.

Something about it felt so real it burned in him. The recorded scene of the film was recurrent and he was there confirming the perfection of what he had seen before.

He enjoyed the way you let him do whatever he wanted with you, how it consumed his mind and forced him to maintain control, not to go too far with you. The knowledge that no one had touched you before, tasted you, or marked you in such an intense way only heightened everything further. His teeth chattered, and his knees felt weak at what was to come.

Pulling away, he gracefully tugged on your hair, and his chest was filled with your half-closed, half-tired gaze that seemed to pierce him. He rubbed against the sheets beneath him, feeling sore just from the thought alone, and you chuckled sweetly. His head swirled, and he leaned over and grasped the candle holder, his fingertips briefly turning red from the heat. You paid more attention, adjusting yourself on the pillow, but he disapproved, "You don't need to do that; I want you to relax like before, princess. Just focus on emptying your mind, lie down and be cute."

You did nothing but nod and return to your previous position, but this time letting your body go limp wasn't so easy. You could feel how wet you were from the mere thought of what had already corrupted your mind. Still between your legs, Cillian caressed the inside of your thigh, and you realized you had closed them; your mind was cluttered and hard to control. You spread them apart, leaving no room for ambiguity, making it clear that you didn't want him to hold back with whatever this was. He positioned himself better between you, allowing you to feel how heavy he was even with layers of fabric between you—his shorts and your panties. You could swear you already had a wet spot in yours. Your chest was desperate, rising up and falling down slowly, and Cillian couldn't look at you without wiping the satisfied smile off his face.

He raised the candle holder, and you could feel the heat on your breasts, your nipples excited by the sensation. The flicker of the fire was reflected in his eyes, and your lips pressed firmly together. You stifled a whimper, but couldn't hold back the whining when the wax dripped onto your sensitive skin that had already been exhausted by him. "I want to hear you, don't hold back," his high-pitched voice with a serious expression, his lines well-defined from how focused he was, left you dazed, and you needed to grind against him strongly, causing both of you to grunt and release the air from your lungs. He was happy with this, happy that you were desperate and that he was causing you some pain.

Cillian lifted the candle again and watched the droplets of wax fall onto you, tracing a line from the center of your breasts to your lower belly. Compared to his, your face was angelic with each movement, the soft moans leaving your expression even more inviting as you felt small in front of him. Your stomach clenched, and your face displayed a mixture of pain along with soft, adorable moans that made him want to explode. His hands trembled, and he had to focus hard not to finish right then and there and be done with it.

"Fuck, pumpkin, you look so good," and you enjoyed how seeing you like this had that effect on him. Your eyes closed, and everything felt intensified; your hips involuntarily spasmed against his, but it was a futile act. He audibly laughed from time to time, sweet and mature yet perverse, as if to make it clear how satisfying this was for him, and it left you completely dizzy and longing for more. He peeled off some hardened wax from your skin, admiring the marks it had left, and after massaging the area for a while he allowed the liquid to accumulate as it burned, running his tongue over the area and sucking the skin to him.

Your nails dug into his shoulder with enough force to leave crescent moons, and he let go, his teeth clearly imprinted on your skin, your fervor only making him more determined. He ran his thumb over the spot that would later be darkened and poured the excess of wax into you. Your legs tightened around him, and your hands grasped the sheets, tears welling up in your eyes, and your whimpering was soft but pleading, not exactly knowing what plea was being conveyed through it all. "Fuck, Cill, fuck, fuck," you tried hard for some relief. He halted his movements, forcing your legs to stop and holding your arms down to the mattress. He was delicate yet firm, just as you needed. You had a safe word; he knew you were okay, you were just trying to get his attention.

The holder, with the candle still burning, was now beside the sheets next to you. "Look at me, babygirl." You swallowed hard, tears streaming down the sides of your face. "Let's be good and not knock over the candle," he said firmly and clearly, and you nodded in pure eagerness, watching his well-defined and prominent muscles due to the force with which he was holding you. He kissed your face, wiping away the salty dampness, then moved to your mouth, which you wisely captured in a somewhat desperate act. He pulled away slowly, a thin trail of saliva connecting you both and slowly fading away.

He chuckled, and with no more, held your jaw and used his thumb to make you open your lips for him, sealing them with his, and soon you felt the buildup in you, and with a fuller sigh, you swallowed his breath over the messy kisses, feeling somewhat comforted. He caressed your cheek with his fingers, studying you, and you stuck your teeth into them, still trying not to move too much and be good. It was obvious you were struggling with this task. "It's good, Cill, I don't mind." He continued with more kisses and wet bites on your body, tightly gripping the open bars of your shirt with a gentle yet firm grip, almost causing your back to lift slightly off the mattress in need of him. It wasn't hard to tell you were younger, just looking at your genuine eyes was enough, and the reminder of that, that it was wrong in a way, made him want more of it all.

"Stay still, or we won't get anywhere, pumpkin," he said, and indeed you had forgotten about the candle by your side. You couldn't and wouldn't let it fall. He still sensed your scent so prominently on you, a lingering blend of sweat from the night before. Dry droplets adorned your panties, and a damp spot in the center was visibly apparent; it was adorable in his eyes. He kissed the area, gently brushing his nose against it, and you let out a graceful sigh. And once again, he found himself immersed in the feeling of having you like this, a sensation that was exclusively his. No one else had the privilege.

Unable to hold back any longer, Cillian pushed the thin fabric down and traced his tongue through you. He was familiar with it, but each time he tasted you, it fueled him with more energy. He didn't need to go too deep; you were already sticky enough, and yet clearly sensitive, a delightful mess nonetheless. Cillian pushed your swollen lips up, reaching your intended spot, and he licked it avidly. You gasped, your fists clenching the sheets. He blew on the spot and sucked on it for his own pure pleasure; he loved how the smell and taste lingered vividly in his mind afterward. However, he knew neither of you could last much longer in this way, and it wasn't how he wanted to end things.

He tightened his fingers on your thighs, using more of you, already feeling his chin and cheeks sticky from you. Reluctantly, he withdrew, mesmerized by how your essence still overflowed his mouth as he swallowed deeply, seeking oxygen. Your whimpering turned more pleading and disapproving, and he understood; he felt the same way, sore and neglected, begging for any hint of relief.

"I'm being good, Cill." Your eyes were wide open as you pleaded your case. He nodded, wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and still licking them to avoid any waste. It only quickened your breathing, and he felt a twinge of pity.

"You are, babygirl, you're being wonderful." He massaged his fingertips into you, spreading the burning sensation. You wouldn't be able to stay still even if you wanted to.

"You're okay, right?" he asked, pushing his fingers in slowly and deftly to fill you, watching your eyes squeeze shut tightly and your back arching a little.

"I am. I'd tell you if I weren't," you sounded weak, with sweat glistening on your forehead. It wasn't a very convincing vision, but Cillian trusted that you'd speak up if something was wrong. He moved his fingers until you got accustomed to the feeling and relaxed, making sure you wouldn't have any trouble taking him after. But you were so wet that he knew you could handle him easily even without much stretching. He made a mental note to try that later.

He pulled his fingers away, his hand sticky and wet from the excess that had dribbled, his mind taken by you, all the positions, and possibilities.

"No waste, remember?" You recalled something he had told you. Soon, your hands were around his wrist, and he didn't hesitate to let you take his fingers into your mouth, enveloping them and sucking on your sweet flavor, your eyes closing as he savored the sensation only he could describe. Your touch of sweetness and genuineness taking him over completely.

"Enough," he declared, pulling them away from you, leaving you with sad, pleading eyes. You could easily be death of him if you wanted.

You felt a bit hazy, things moving fast but still light, and surprisingly comforting after just waking up. You couldn't say when or how, but as you shifted slightly in bed and your eyes met his, he had already managed to shed his shorts. He was pulsating; he wouldn't last much longer, and you could tell he had held back for quite some time until then.

"I love how you look," he chuckled, smugness evident. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed from the stress. His hair, with some strands of gray, fell over his face, and before you could brush it away, he held your arms again. You gasped, hesitating, and he forced your body onto the mattress, his weight and legs spreading yours apart. Lightly, he closed the gap between you, then settled inside you. As he had imagined, he slid in skillfully. Your head was thrown back, and you felt complete ecstasy just from finally having him after such a wait, even though it burned, and Cillian didn't feel much different.

His grunts were deep, and it made you even more flustered and messy for him. He rose, still dripping from your body, holding the candle holder. Even though he hadn't planned to tease since he was just as eager, he proceeded anyway. His hand rested on your waist, and without moving, he allowed you to ride him slowly with lazy thrusts to get what you wanted. You were shy, and your movements were as delicate as your body, adjusting to his as if you couldn't let him know. Soon he would be emptying himself inside you, deep, and that made him pant. In the meantime, he measured the droplets of wax over your belly and breasts, watching in awe as your body trembled from exhaustion.

Your moans were mostly breathless tones, and your mouth remained partially open. Your eyes never left him, of how his v-line joined yours as he filled you perfectly, until all the air left your lungs. He let a few drops fall on his own abdomen, grunting hoarsely at the warmth of him, and he smiled sweetly as your hips stopped their motion, and you focused solely on watching him.

Cillian paused, gently placing the candle holder back on the nightstand, and he tenderly turned you over onto your belly on the bed. You complied with grace, leaning forward to be closer to him, not holding back your affection. He cradled you, running his fingers through your hair, and his body welcomed yours against his chest. With utmost care, he joined with you, moving deep and fervently, his movements filled with passion, turning your whimpers into soft moans of pleasure.

The sight of you brought him immense joy, and he cherished the intimacy you shared. He was overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for you, and he wanted nothing more than to fill you up warmly. He knew he had to be gentle, to ensure your comfort, and to respect your boundaries. Even more knowing you weren't used to that.

With each tender touch, he felt the connection between you both, savoring the moments of ecstasy that flowed between your bodies. He marveled at the depth of your trust in him, and he felt an overwhelming desire for more and more of you.

As he continued, he held you close, your hands seeking his to anchor you in the intensity of the experience. The room was filled with the sweet sounds of your pleasure, and he was enthralled by the way your body responded to his touch.

He adored every moment, every caress, and every gasp that escaped your lips. As your passion reached its peak, he held you tightly, ensuring you felt safe and into his arms. Your shared climax made him dizzy, leaving you both breathless and content.

Afterwards, he stroked your back, waist, and shoulders, reveling in the intimacy you had just shared. He admired the marks and traces left on your body.

"I treasure every moment with you," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration and a strong accent.

You smiled softly, feeling the warmth of him envelop you. His presence brought you comfort and peace, and you knew that you were deeply his.

With a caring touch, he wiped away the traces of passion from your lips, and you savored the lingering taste of him on your tongue. You nestled even closer to him, and he let you, holding you tighter. You could still feel him oozing between your legs, the liquid turning cold, tingling a little from the soreness, but it felt great. You knew he would treat you like precious pearls, bathing you and leaving you clean before you went to sleep, and that was comforting.

"I'd never let a single drop go to waste," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. Your eyes are genuine and serene as you watch him, as if you really had no dimension to it. And then, you got filled into his solemn and comforting laughter at your fragile soul causing a pleasant vibration in your body.

...

His eyes opened as if breaking free from a suffocating hold, his head emerging above water, and oxygen flooding back into his lungs. Nevertheless, he remained still, feeling a warm weight on his shoulder and his pants suddenly tighter and less comfortable. Slowly, awareness seeped into his brain, and he became conscious of his surroundings. He felt a sense of worry, unable to move even if he wanted to. Gently, he brushed aside strands of hair from your face without touching your skin, observing how peacefully you rested against him, completely oblivious to his internal turmoil when it came to you.

He gazed at the ceiling, still wrapped in the comfort of your body's warmth against his own. Despite his mind being entangled with images of you, with your hand between your thighs and your cheek pressed against his shoulder, your lips slightly parted and looking so delicate and untouched, he couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes directly anymore. The once sweet thoughts now mingled with wilder and more fervent desires, a concoction of heated emotions that overwhelmed him. He felt like he wouldn't be able to endure all of it until the end. He already felt completely entangled and trapped.

As he lay there, he found himself torn between the conflicting emotions that had taken hold of him. The intensity of his feelings for you had reached a point where he couldn't contain them any longer. It was as if everything had shifted, and what was once a tender connection now burned with a passionate fire. He did desire you and that horrible way, but he had also fallen for you, and it frightened him.

The realization that he had developed such strong emotions for someone so close and yet so out of reach weighed heavily on him. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out, or worse, if he acted on those impulses. He wished he could go back to the simpler times, when he could bask in the innocence of your presence. But it was too late. He had crossed a threshold, and there was no turning back. The feelings were there, tangible and consuming.

On top of it all, the candles still exuded essence as they burned hot and bright before his field of vision.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy fanfiction

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porcelainbambi · 11 months

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strawberries, cherries & an angel’s kiss in spring

a small glimpse into farm life with ellie <3

18+

ellie williams x femme coquette reader

disclaimer: the first picture in the moodboard is not meant to directly represent the reader’s skin/body, i just think it fits the mood well <3 ik this will only appeal to some ppl stylistically and that’s ok!! this one is 4 the coquette pillow princesses, hope u enjoy <3 dedicated to the lovely @clearheartgreyflowers n @elskittie who encouraged me to write a lil something in the first place!! mwah

You enjoyed the work that came with living on the farm, you truly did. Loved to wake up early while the morning dew was still clinging to every petal and leaf, loved to tend to the animals and manage the gardens you cared for so dearly. Loved to dance around both inside and outside, loved that it was all a part of your home, part of the life you shared with Ellie.

Since moving onto the farm, you had formed quite the habit of doing all your daily tasks in the early mornings, usually having finished all you needed to do before noon even rolled around. This left you with the opportunity to spend some time in your beloved kitchen, sometimes baking small desserts with what ingredients you had available, other times simply washing and preparing some fruit you had gathered for a snack you could share with Ellie, all before she had even begun her own work for the day.

While you thrived in the morning hours, Ellie, on the other hand, preferred to do her share of the chores around midday, finishing shortly before dinner on the odd days where serious labour needed to be done. Never the morning person, she would’ve kept you in the warm nest of your shared bed, loving on you from the inside out until her own work beckoned around midday, every single day if she could. Even by then, she still hated to be away from you just as much as you loathed being separated from her for too long.

And so, you often accompanied her while she worked. Her little shadow following her around, floating from task to task, sometimes attempting to help (though she almost always stopped you, insisting all you had to do was sit pretty and talk about whatever was on your mind.) She would let you guide the conversation while she worked, occasionally coming over to where you sat perched on the fence or the hood of her truck to peck at your strawberry-stained lips, rough hands gently grazing over the soft peach-fuzz hair on your warm skin, leaving you love drunk and breathless before returning to her job with a poorly hidden smirk.

You absolutely adored this routine. You loved to watch her work with her hands, white wife-beater and black jeans often dirtied with mud or motor oil, gazing at the way her muscles worked under her skin and trying not to lose focus on what you were saying at the moment, lest she catch on to your staring and tease you about it until you were pink faced and huffy.

You loved when that teasing turned into something more, ending in her taking you over the hood of her truck, on top of a hay barrel or against a tree, fucking you dumb with the strap she so often wore under her jeans just for moments like that. She knew watching her work tended to get you riled up, heat pooling in your tummy until you couldn’t take it anymore, whining and pleading for her until she put her tools down and all too eagerly came to your rescue, helping you take care of the ache between your soft thighs.

You loved the routine that’d been created over the years of living on your farm together, and Ellie loved it just as much, maybe even more.

Sometimes, however, all of your own work you had done so early that morning would catch up with you around midday, a wave of fatigue you would relentlessly fight, not wanting to miss out on a single moment with your girlfriend. That is until Ellie would notice your small yawns, the way your eyelids began to droop and she would insist you go lay down for a little nap, promising to come get you as soon as she was finished. You would always whine, insisting you were barely even tired, your own body betraying you when a yawn cut your argument short.

And so, with a few extra kisses and a pat on your bottom, you’d make your way over to one of your favourite places on the land you called home.

Next to one of your large oak trees laid a small clearing, a sun-dappled expanse of plush grass that practically felt like a blanket all on its own. Violets and buttercups littered the ground, an old large picnic blanket sprawled out that seemed to beckon you to lay down. Sometimes you didn’t sleep at all, simply lazing about and listening to the soothing sounds of the wind and the nearby river, the sheep occasionally bleating nearby, letting your thoughts and daydreams carry you away, often finding that those daydreams were awfully close to the life you already were living with Ellie. Sometimes you took the time to read, leafing through old magazines and books you’d read countless times before and somehow never tired of. But most times, your eyelids would heavy and before you knew it you were peacefully resting, dozing in and out of sleep until Ellie came to wake you, having finally finished her tasks for the day. Always gently climbing over your form, careful not to dirty your sundress with her own muddied clothes, admiring you for a few moments before gently rousing you from your slumber.

And that was just how she found you then: warm and drowsy, laying on your tummy with your cheek squished against your arm where you had rested your head. Your linen covered back rising and falling steadily with your breaths, the little sundress you wore ruffling gently with the occasional breeze. As her eyes skimmed down, she could see the way the dress had bunched up slightly with your small movements, the backs of your thighs completely bare up to the slightly visible crease where your thighs met your ass, pink cotton panties peeking out just a bit. She felt herself warm from the inside out at the sight.

Ellie approached quietly, as always. Wiping her hands on her jeans to make sure they were clean, she slowly knelt on the blanket, hovering over your sleeping form. As she leaned down, her senses were immediately overtaken by you, you, you. Your balmy skin that smelt like sun & faintly of the lavender soap she’d helped glide over your body the night before. Your hair splayed out over your shoulders like a veil, which she gently pushed away with a calloused hand to lay soft kisses on the expanse of skin now exposed to the humid air and her touches.

You awoke slowly, humming quietly when you recognized her presence. She always toke care to wake you as gently as possible, soothing you back into consciousness with grazing touches and hushed words. You rolled onto your back underneath her hovering form, blinking away the sleep from your tired eyes until the face you loved more than anything in the universe came into focus. A roughened hand came down to brush some of your hair out of your face as she smiled sweetly at you, finally murmuring out a greeting.

“Hi, sweet girl.”

You giggled at the pet name, muttering a small “Hi” back, cheeks heating already at the small display of affection. That was just the thing with these moments, no matter how frequently they occurred and how often she absolutely spoiled you rotten with her affection and touch, you were seemingly always more sensitive to it in that warm, sleepy, sunkissed state. Everything felt a million times stronger, heavier and simultaneously lighter, time passing leisurely under her gaze. There was nowhere else to be, nothing else to be done, your existence together on that frayed blanket the most important moment in history, as if the universe formed just for this. Just for the two of you. And, more often than you’d like to admit, in these moments you also tended to become a million times needier, the urge to be completely consumed by her and in turn to consume her back entirely overpowering any other senses you possessed.

Ellie knew this, of course. She could read you like a book that she knew by heart, had learned all your micro-expressions and committed their meanings to memory until she could practically read your mind at any given moment from a single glance, a one second scan all it took to know what you needed. Now was no different, as she immediately picked up what was going on: the tiny shifts of your hips under her own, the way you were worrying at your bottom lip with your front teeth, your little fingers aimlessly gripping and releasing the fabric of your dress as you gazed up at her, bambi eyes glassy and wide and so, so trusting.

Ellie also knew you were often too shy to verbalize what you wanted, when you wanted it. A much needed discussion at your small kitchen table had helped clear this up, as you explained to her how you often felt at a loss for words when you needed her most, throat seemingly closing up and an air of timidness taking over. She knew this, and she knew the solution was; To do all the serious talking, saying what needed to be said and letting you confirm or deny with your small noises and nods and the pawing of your hands until you’d relaxed enough to open up verbally again.

Toying with the trim of your dress between thumb and forefinger, eyes boring into your own with the intensity that always seemed to subdue your mind into that fuzzy state you couldn’t quite describe with words, she began to speak in the hushed tone she reserved for moments like this.

“You feelin’ a little needy, baby?”

You nodded, a small noise of agreement coming from the back of your throat.

“Want me to take care of you?”

You nodded quickly, up and down so fast she thought your head might pop off your shoulders if you kept at it.

She let out a small giggle, followed by a string of “alright, alright baby”s. You had been in this position countless times, enough so that she knew exactly what you needed the most, beginning by gently flipping up your dress and laying it neatly on your tummy. Placing soft kisses on the newly exposed skin, seemingly in no rush at all as you started to whine, hips stirring, body doing everything in its power to call her to where you needed her most.

This was stopped, however, by her big hands gripping your hips, gently pushing them down into the blanket again, holding them there as she continued her ministrations. “Easy, sweetheart” she cooed. “Gonna give you what y’need, just be my good girl ‘nd be patient.”

She didn’t make you wait too long, wanting to reward you for the way you almost immediately stilled your movements at her request. Repositioning, she laid down between your thighs, pushing your knees up until there was room for her in the middle. Propped up on her arms resting on either side of your hips, her head was now just mere inches away from your clothed mound. Your breathing had quickened significantly, and while another time she may have teased you for longer, really taking her sweet time just letting her warm breath torturously fan over your heat, she felt like being nice today. With one last look for permission being met with an eager nod of your head, she gently pulled the damp cotton to the side, simply admiring your puffy cunt for a moment before ducking her head down.

The first kiss she laid over your slit immediately had you keening, reaching a hand down to hold onto her own that was laid across your tummy, keeping you pressed to the blanket where she wanted you. It didn’t take long for the small kisses to turn into messy, open mouthed ones, to her flat tongue swiping through your folds, occasionally working her way up and suckling on your swollen clit as you cried out softly.

Your mousy noises were nearly entirely drowned out by her own noises of pleasure as she went to work on you. Ellie was never one to be quiet in times like this, and there was no exception when she was using her mouth on you. Grunting, moaning, slurping, all from her own enjoyment of the pleasure she was giving you mixed with the addicting taste of your juices she so greatly savoured, it was obscene every single time.

Eventually, she could start to feel your hole clenching around nothing as she continued her tongue’s movements. Dipping lower, she slowly circled it with the tip of her tongue, relishing in the feeling of your body fluttering against her prodding. Once she deemed you ready, encouraged by your increasing whines and a muffled “please” from your plush lips, she began gently pushing the muscle inside your warm heat.

Spurred on by your whines and the way your grip on her hand tightened, she flicked her tongue upwards and revelled in the way you clenched around it. Your taste was even stronger like this, now leaking directly into her eagerly awaiting mouth, and she couldn’t get enough, ever. She moved like a woman starved, the vibrations from the groans she let out adding to your own white-hot pleasure, which was mounting by the second.

You could feel it rising, building and building, knot forming in the lowest part of your tummy. The intensity was overwhelming and suddenly, your upper half felt too exposed. You needed to be eye level with Ellie, needed to feel completely encased by her, fully consumed by her. Needed the intimacy of her breath fanning across your face when you eventually reached your peak. You began to pull where you gripped at her forearm, mumbling a quick “up, up, please”, and of course she knew exactly what you meant.

Pulling away from your heat, you got a hazy look at the mess you’d made of her face, lower half glistening with your slick, reddened lips puffed slightly, appearing as though she’d just devoured the ripest peach one could find. She immediately replaced her mouth with her warm hand, simply cupping your pussy as she clambered, repositioning until she was laying next to you on the blanket, using her supporting arm to wrap around the top of your head a bit, caging you in safely. she removed her hand only to finally push your panties down your thighs, returning her touch the second they were out of her way. As she slotted her lips with yours, your own taste quickly melting with the laps of her tongue against your own, she let two of her fingers slip inside you, quickly assuming the motion she knew you loved so much: stroking your velveteen walls in an upward motion, punching in and out with her forearm so she hit that sweet, gummy spot with nearly exact precision every single time.

You were gasping into her lips immediately, still trying to kiss back through it all, small hand shooting up to wrap around the back of Ellie’s neck, keeping her face close to your own as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten further. She kissed the corner of your mouth where it was stretched open, sweet noises falling from your plush lips as the pleasure began to build to that special point again, this time feeling safe in her body’s shelter, allowing the feeling to wash over you completely as it rose. She knew it was happening right away, from the way you clenched around her fingers, gushing out more liquid that dripped down her wrist, to the frantic sounds you were producing and the way you gazed up at her, completely falling apart in a way you only could because you knew she was there to keep you together.

“You gonna cum, angel? Hm?”, she says against your lips, knowing she won’t get a proper verbal answer. A warbled moan and a teary-eyed nod are what she gets in response, and she knows the last thing you need to push you over that edge.

“C’mon baby, s’okay. Cum for me, you can cum. My sweet girl, let it happen. Love you so much-”

The knot unravels with a whip the second those words leave her lips, and she feels you gush around her fingers at the same time as she sees those familiar tears of pleasure spill over your inky eyelashes. You’re trembling and crying out, her movements continuing to help you ride it out as long as it can last. The pleasure is almost unbearable, warmth blossoming in your chest as your thrust your head into the apex of her neck.

You can distantly hear her speaking to you, not quite able to make out the words as you let it all wash over you, floating within your high, but you know she’s talking you through it all. You know there’s gentle praises spilling from her lips. And sure enough, as your senses begin to readjust, that’s exactly what you hear.

“There you go, thaaat’s it baby. My sweet girl, did so good, ‘m so proud of you, such an angel. I’ve got you, shhh-sh-sh.”

It’s only then that your ears register your own cries, gently whimpering into your girlfriend’s neck as the tears continue to spill. The overwhelming feeling from your release catching up with you, and you’re suddenly snapping your thighs shut around Ellie’s arm, the stimulation now too much in this sensitive state.

“Okay, okay baby, i’ve gotcha. Gonna pull ‘em out now, ‘kay?” she soothes, waiting for your approval before gently slipping her fingers out, triggering a rush of your own release to spill out onto the blanket below as you whine.

You feel her wiggle down your body until she’s face level with your now soaked pussy and thighs again, using her thumbs to gently part your folds without further stimulating your swollen clit. With a few tentative fingers, she scoops up what she can of your release from your drooling hole, shushing you when you flinch at the contact before popping them in her mouth, humming at the taste, her own eyelids fluttering.

After a few small kisses to the tops of your still shaking thighs, she gently pulls your cotton panties back up, playing with the little bow that sits at the top of the waistband gently before lowering your sundress once again, covering your sensitive cunt.

Before you know it she’s back up there with you, lifting your spent body until you’re cradled against her as you catch your breath, humming contentedly. She kisses the side of your head, moving down to the fat of your cheek until you’re giggling and completely pliant in her arms. Only then do you begin to speak coherently again, starting the conversation in the only way that feels appropriate in the moment.

“Love you els”, said through giggles.

Ellie thinks her heart might just break through her ribcage and escape her body in an attempt to completely join itself with your own.

“I love you more, silly girl. How you feelin’? All good? Comfortable?”

Your answer is easy, not needing to think at all. “Perfect”, you mumble back. “Jus’ a little sleepy again.”

Ellie laughs, hard enough to shake you a bit where you lay against her chest. You didn’t need to tell her that for her to know, your penchant for wanting to sleep against her skin after she’d fucked you dumb all too familiar. “Alright, I hear ya sleepyhead. What d’you say we head inside, get cleaned up and cuddle a bit before dinner? Hm?”

You nod, humming along before thinking for a moment, brows furrowing in the slightest, immediately prompting Ellie to smooth it out with her thumb. Then blinking up at her gently, eyelashes fluttering, giving her those bambi eyes you know she melts under the gaze of before speaking once more.

“Carry me inside, els?”

And she never, ever could say no to that request.

#dolly writes🦢#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #wlw smut #coquette reader

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hotyanderedaddies · 5 months

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How to Tell if Your Boyfriend is a Werewolf

[I have no idea what a “NERP” is 😅]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

So you think that your boyfriend might be a werewolf. Luckily for you, there are a set of questions that you can ask yourself to know for sure:

Is your boyfriend bigger than the average male?

Not just down there, but is your boyfriend really big? Is he kinda built? Werewolves tend to possess genes that cause them to easily outsize the average human. Take note of whenever you and your man enter into a room; if he’s the tallest one and the most muscular there, then odds are that he’s a werewolf. This goes especially for alphas!

2. Does your boyfriend growl at other people who approach you?

Werewolves are notoriously territorial creatures. And if you’re dating one, then they’ll definitely be territorial over you. Depending on the werewolf, he might growl at other guys (or even girls) who approach you in public to chat you up, or sometimes he might even bare his teeth at a barista who’s simply asking for your order. Next time the two of you are out in public, take note. If your man jealously growls whenever someone else steals your attention away from him, he might be werewolf!

3. Do all of your belongings somehow smell like your boyfriend?

Like most canines, werewolves like to put their scent on what they view as theirs. And Reader, if you’re dating a werewolf, then in their eyes, you belong to them. Hence, if you aren’t congested and you take a whiff of your clothes, bed, car— anything that you use on a daily basis, try to tell if it smells suspiciously like your boyfriend. If your man is a werwolf, then he one-hundred percent scented your belongings so that his scent clings to you. It’s a way he can show other werewolves that you’re off limits since you’re his.

4. Does your boyfriend avoid silver?

Silver isn’t just a gorgeous metal, but it’s also deadly to werewolves. It can burn their skin and silver dust in the air at some jewelry shops can prove to be toxic. Therefore, if your boyfriend asks you not to wear your beautiful silver bracelet whenever you’re out on a date, then he might be a werewolf. Or maybe you just can’t pull off silver?

5. Does your boyfriend disappear once a month?

If your boyfriend mysteriously vanishes one night out of the month, then take the time to check the nighttime sky. If there’s a full moon outside, then he might be a werewolf. If he belongs to a pack, then most alphas prohibit pack members from revealing their werewolf status to humans— at least until marriage (talk about a shocking honeymoon). If he’s rogue, meaning he doesn’t belong to a pack, then he might just be afraid of how you’ll react to the fact that he’s a werewolf. Most werewolves have difficulty controlling their animalistic instincts on nights of the full moon, hence he might steer clear from you to protect you… or prevent himself from mounting you nonstop.

6. Is your boyfriend very touchy?

Wolves are pack animals, and they tend to be pretty handsy with their fellow pack members to show their affection. Werewolves are the same, especially with their significant others. Does your boyfriend smother you in cuddles and kisses whenever you enter the room? When you’re out in public, does your boyfriend NEED to hold your hand or have his arm secured around your shoulders? If your special guy refuses to let any inch of space in between the two of you, you might be dating a werewolf.

7. Does your boyfriend enjoy belly rubs?

Werewolves often roll over onto their backs during cuddle time, giving their darling a puppy-eyed look as they ask for a good belly rub. If your boyfriend loves your hands all over his chest, the act turning him into mush, then he might be a werewolf. Good news is that it’s a surefire technique to turn a big scary werewolf into a giddy puppy.

8. When having sex, does your boyfriend howl when he climaxes?

Yes, that happens sometimes.

9. Does your boyfriend claim to have trouble sleeping without you?

Werewolves usually have a pack mentality, meaning that they stick together in groups. This carries over to sleep, in which a werewolf finds it near impossible to fall asleep without their darling in their arms. If your boyfriend constantly tangles himself up with you in bed, and you wake up using him as your pillow, then it’s quite possible that he’s a werewolf.

10. And most importantly: Is your boyfriend really, REALLY possessive of you?

Again, as stated earlier, werewolves are extremely territorial creatures. And if you’re dating one, this fierce possessiveness extends to you. Pay close attention to your boyfriend. Does he growl at people who approach you? Does he seem to always know your whereabouts, almost as if he just “conveniently” keeps showing up? Has he ever said the specific phrase, “You’re Mine”? Have you ever tried to leave and he blocks the door, or tries to lock you away? If your boyfriend insists on keeping you all to himself at all times, then he’s definitely a werewolf!

#werewolf #yandere boyfriend #yandere werewolf #yandere daddy #yandere boy #werewolf lore #magazine survey #possessive love

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hazbinhappy · 1 month

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If you’d like, what about Vox x a reader who’s very wary of men and it took Vox a long time to gain their trust because of this. - @am-i-interrupting

A/N: felt this in my damn core

You drop into hell and I won’t lie I think hell’s gender population is definitely more men ✋😐🤚

Anywho! You drop for whatever reason probably a dumb one because the Divine Judge was feeling silly and nitpicky

You work for Velvette in this case!

It’s not like you work for her because she’s nice, no it’s for the pay and there is wayyyyyy less men than anywhere else in Hell and that’s a win

One day she mentions that they’re doing a “Vee’s Specialty line” and that she needs you to help design the outfits

you were originally wary of this and when it came to designs you simply just emailed them solely to Velvette, but she texted explicitly "These are shit!! Vox is on his way to "consult" be here ASAP don't want him here longer than he needs to be"

you kept your distance, but quickly took the clothes he gave for inspiration

you vaguely heard Vox speak to Velvette about your weird behavior, but she was half listening

Vox checked in occasionally about how the designs were coming along because he's a damn control freak

you barely responded, often in short words or sentences

actually requesting that he emailed you instead (which he actively ignored and kept coming in person)

if you've played animal crossing new horizons think of Sable! you have to keep talking to her daily for her to open up

now i'm not saying that works here obviously (if it was me i'd be pissed off)

but occasionally he'll get a full response from you

you find it odd how interested he is in the clothes that are based of his likeness (Valentino just gave his designs the okay and left it at that)

soon enough you come to feel weird when he doesn't visit you at his regular time and feel sad and like something is missing

once the clothes are finally out to the public he has no reason to visit you until Velvette excitedly (while still being mean) that Vox is finally upgrading his wardrobe like the old man he is and that you're in charge of it

....yay more work

jk you're not ecstatic about the work in the slightest, but it means your routine is back to normal

he's probably the guy who is allowed within a normal vicinity of you that actually can get a full conversation

i wouldn't say y'all eventually date, but you guys definitely become borderline friends/acquaintances!

probably would take an eternity to date each other

but guess what! y'all have that

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox

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penciled-palominos · 7 months

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Hello Horseblr!! It's your resident horse girl once again! Today I come with a gift!

MY OWN HORSE-TOBER PROMPT LIST!!! I've never seen one of these done before but I thought hey! Why not make my own!! Sorry, it's so close to october when I'm posting this for the first time, I meant to make this like a week ago but I forgor

I actually made 3 different versions, just for fun, all technically have the same words but they're split differently, we have all 31 days of October in the first list, then only the odd days, and only the even days, just for people who may choose to only do it bi-daily :))

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO TAG ME IN ANYTHING YOU MAKE WITH THIS LIST IF YOU SO CHOOSE TO USE IT!!

Feel free to also do any days you feel like and don't feel pressured to do all of em or even do to em on the day they're meant for! Just have fun!!

[Image ID: Above is pictured 3 peices of paper reading at the top in bigger lettering "Horse-Tober 2023" [a mix of the word horse and october] Below that is each day of October numbered out 1-31 followed by a prompt placed to the right of the number, they read as follows:

1. Desert

2. Food

3. Pinto

4. With other animals

5. Mythical

6. Fandom

7. Draft Horse

8. Party

9. Donkey

10. Pottery

11. Spirit

12. Ocean

13. Meadow

14. Games

15. Relaxation

16. Old West

17. Plushie

18. Skeleton

19. Painting

20. Foal

21. Flowers

22. Vintage

23. Buttons

24. Wild

25. Fear

26. Technology

27. Racing

28. Fairy

29. Costume

30. Pumpkin

31. Kelpie

The other two photos read off the exact same header of the page "Horse-Tober 2023" but each only has either the even or odd numbers of the 31 day list End ID ]

This is my first time attempting to add like an ID to a post, so I really hope I did it well?? If there's something to fix, please let me know

#Horse-Tober 2023 #< oh also use this tag maybe #thatd be pretty cool if you wanna #but i hope yall have fun if you choose to do any of these and please tag me i will be going feral if i see even a single drawing #id #horseblr

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bbimharuuu · 1 year

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Targaryens with Snow White! Reader

A/N: This story will be inclusive! (No description for looks, also gender neutral) I'll only be taking a few of the story elements from Snow White. If y'all like the disney princess inspired stories, please let me know so I'll make another one with other families in HOTD or GOT.

Also this story will include Jace x reader! For all of you Jace simps out there 💕

You came from a reputable house, known for their beauty and kindness. Although not powerful, many men and ladies would always jump at the chance of marrying people from your house.

‌Your mother sadly died after childbirth, making your father sad and not as attentive as he should be when taking care of you. Only being there when he is strong enough to look at you, afraid that he'll be sad again as you only reminded him of his one true love.

‌Yet after many years, your father decided to marry his new wife a few days after you just turned six. A woman who cared and acted kind to you, yet it was all just an act. After marrying her, your new mother (or step-mother) would only treat you badly. Making you do chores, wearing rags; all without your father knowing as he slowly turned sick. You were grateful enough that the servants are kind to you, taking care of you when needed.

‌Whispers from the servants told you that your step-mother is scared of your beauty rivaling her, believing that you'll use it against her for your own purposes. You also heard about how your father sickness was partially because your step-mother poisoning him daily with small amounts of poison. You sadly couldn't visit him, always being told by your step-mother that he's to sick or he's meeting with the maesters. But you were too young too notice that it was all lies.

‌After you've heard this rumours, you were treated more harshly. Your step-mother once got physical with you after she found out you were slacking off, playing with the servants. One of the servants who cared for you since birth, took pity on you as you cried to her about not wanting to live here anymore. With the help of the other servants, she decided to send you to Kings Landing to her sisters care. Believing that even though you'll work as a servant, you'll be treated more nicely there.

‌When you arrived, the sister introduced herself as Dayana. She told you to act as if you're her child, playing the role so you could be excused to live in the Red Keep. Fortunately for you, the servants were all kind, only making you do light tasks.

‌In return, you had a lot of free time. Making your way through the gardens, whispering to birds about your secrets to them; anything to make your boredom gone.

‌But luck seemed to be on your side when you encountered the young prince Jacaerys, taking a short break after practicing. He saw you kneeling, a bird on your hand as you whispered to it before softly laughing. Jacaerys frowned before making his way towards you, tapping your shoulder before asking what you were doing.

‌You didn't even look at him in the eyes before replying, "It was telling me about a funny story that they've seen before coming here. It's quite bizarre though." Jace tilted his head in confusion, before sitting next to you. "You can speak to...animals?"

‌"Not all the time, sometimes they don't talk. Sometimes they do. It's just a matter if the animals like you or not," You replied, brushing the bird one final time before it flew away to the sky. Jace hummed, not believing it. But he coughed nervously when you looked at him, only noticing your beauty just now.

‌You both talked with each other about your likes and dislikes, Jace even talked about how he bonded with his dragon, Vermax. You gasped excitedly when you heard about it. "I've never seen a dragon before! Well, not up- close. But I've heard they're very majestic although dangerous."

‌Noticing your excitement about dragons, Jace would propose that you two would meet at certain times to talk about it in the garden. You were odd, claiming you could talk to animals. But Jace found you endearing and beautiful, so it didn't really bother him

‌Soon the both of you will meet every once in a while to talk about things, it doesn't have to be dragons; sometimes Jace would let you ramble on and on about the talks you had with certain animals. He thinks about how you're weird like Helaena, but she didn't claim to be able to talk with the bugs she likes. But he didn't judge you, he just kept listening and maybe add in some comments here and there.

‌Rhaenyra will notice how Jace would be gone as quickly as possible after his lessons are finished. Luke will notice it as well, whining about how his brother wouldn't play with him anymore and only play with the servant girl. Rhaenyra would be interested about this servant girl, thus making her secretly follow Jace to one of your garden meet ups.

‌She noticed how Jace would sit close to you, explaining about the sword trainings and maybe rant about how annoying Aegon was. And you would just sit there listening to him, smiling and nodding. Rhaenyra would approach you after Jace left, making you stutter in nervousness as you bowed to the princess. She tilted her head as she saw your beauty underneath the dirt and rags, maybe a hint of recognition as she remembered hearing of a well known house declaring the missing daughter of said lord.

‌Rhaenyra would calmly ask your informations, subtly asking for it instead of being forceful. You would answer them honestly, yet you would make mistakes here and there about your true identity. You hoped the princess would not notice it, but she did. She covered her smile as she tried to move on past the interesting information she just received.

‌Rhaenyra would see why Jace would be close to you. You were kind and beautiful although you're meek and shy at times. She would develop a strong sense of wanting to protect you after a few meetings, always asking you about how you're doing.

‌This development would certainly not go unnoticed by Daemon, who would act confused as to why his wife and son would be so smitten with a servant girl like you. He decided to approach you, talking to you for a short while before deciding that you were just uninteresting for him.

‌But his interest became piqued once again after he heard Jace talking to Baela about how you could talk to animals. Daemon would approach him, asking if he believes that you could talk to animals. Jace would be hesitant before replying, "At first I didn't believe her. But after many times we met in the garden, her stories are quite accurate about the things that have happened here. It's too detailed for it to be lies, father."

‌Daemon would hum and think for a while, before wanting to test your skills. It's not a common occurrence for someone to be able to talk with animals, let alone a dragon. Dragon riders would only be bonded yet Daemon knew they couldn't fully control the dragons too, so if you are the real deal; then you could be a great help for them.

‌Daemon would instruct Jace to invite you to the Dragonpit, wanting to see how you would talk to the dragons. Jace would not agree with him stating that you've never met dragons, let alone you'd be brave enough to talk with them. But Daemon insisted that you'll be safe because he will be there, watching everything so that you'll be safe (and maybe for his own reasons as well).

‌Of course you would terrified beyond belief! Jace invited you into the Dragonpit was shocking, especially when Jace told you Daemon of all people was the one who requested you. Standing besides him as Jace called Vermax, Daemon placed his hand on your shoulder. "Don't be afraid, little one. Vermax is a bonded dragon, it will listen to Jace if anything wrong will happen at any time." You nodded at him, trying to steel your nerves as Jace leads Vermax in front of you.

‌You sighed deeply before looking Vermax in its eyes. You tilted your head, Vermax following your lead. You crouched down in front of him slowly pulling your hand in front of him. Jace held his breath as Daemon narrowed his eyes at you. Vermax growls slightly before calming down, nudging his head against your hand.

‌Daemon was shocked when you turned to him and Jace. "He's angry, he's already kept inside here for too long. He said Jace is ignoring him for his studies and lessons."

‌Daemon softly laughs at you, "And how can we believe that, little one? Maybe you're just lying to us right now." You pouted before shaking your head. "My lord, you've noticed how restless Vermax has been in here. You've tried everything but he always lost his control, am I right? You thought he was hungry but he's not. And even though Jace always visits him here, he doesn't take him out for a ride."

‌Safe to say Daemon was impressed and interested in you after that. Jace would be shocked yet proud, telling his mother about how you proved Daemon wrong with your so called power. Rhaenyra would be furious at Daemon for letting you, a child, inside the Dragonpit just so he could see your power. But after some convincing from him, Rhaenyra would agree that you would be an asset to her family.

‌Soon you would spend time with all of the family members. Although you did still stay with Dayana from time to time, most of the time you stayed with Rhaenyra in her chambers. Deep down she longs for a daughter, and maybe luck did gave her a blessing in the form of you. You would always accompany her, asking questions about certain topics; and in return she'll see how you communicate with animals.

‌Rhaenyra would definitely tell you to her father, Viserys. And although he's bedridden in his room, he'll be interested. Wanting to meet you as Rhaenyra soon grew closer to you. In the end, you did met the king, Viserys now understanding why Rhaenyra and the rest of her family took a liking to you. Although Rhaenyra is happy that you met her father, she's hesitant on bringing you back again if Alicent is there. She didn't want you to be noticed by Alicent, so she decided to only bring you to Viserys a few times when Alicent was not around.

‌As years go by, you grew closer to all of them. Jace would still take his time off lessons and training to be with you. You became a sister figure for Luke and Joffrey, playing with them when they want to. Even Daemon would grew closer to you, although he'll act nonchalantly and not as frontal as the rest of the family. They will try to protect and shield you away from the Greens, claiming to never trust them ever.

‌Daemon will insist on having you bond with the dragons if it meant you could help them at any time (maybe even spending some alone time to bond together, only between the two of you). You helped the dragon keepers if certain dragons are acting up, calmly explaining to them what the dragons need. You always help all of the dragons, but Vermax still holds a special place in your heart; being the first dragon you've ever met.

‌One day, you claim to be a little sad after one of your bird friends told you about how the servants and guards talked bad about you, claiming that you bewitched the royal family into treating you like their own. Rhaenyra and Daemon would be furious yet stayed calm so they could catch whoever made the rumours up. Jace would be too, but he chose to stay with you; comforting you with kind words as he held you close to him. Luke and Joffrey would try to ease your sadness away, bickering and joking around to make you forget about it. You don't comment on how the mean servants and guards are slowly disappearing and replaced by new ones. Dayana reassures you that everything is normal.

‌On the other hand, your step-mother grew restless and angry when she heard about you in Kings Landing, with the royal family nonetheless. She was already happy with the thought of you gone, reinstating her as the most powerful person in the house after your father died. She already has a son, she didn't want you to come back and accuse her of mistreating you badly in the past. She already got rid of the pesky servants that liked you, she didn't want to have more problems.

‌So she made plans for you to be gone. It took a few years, wanting everything to be perfect. At first she wanted to hire an assassin to kill you but she threw that idea away when her spy in Kings Landing told her about how you always spent time with the family. Your step-mother was annoyed at how none of the plans seemed to be working. But in the end she found one plan that seemed to be perfect. It could kill you instantly and quietly, plus there's no way people will suspect her for the act. With the help of a witch, your step-mother consulted her with her plans.

‌As for you, you're not just a child anymore. You became well known for your beauty and kindness. Although your work in the castle has been nonexistent ever since you grew closer to Rhaenyra's family; you sometimes still met up with Dayana to spend time together.

‌Other than Rhaenyra's family, you only grew closer to Halaena. You bond with her because of the love the both of you had with animals. But her family and Rhaenyra's family have grew distant after what happened with Aemond. Thus you only met her only for a few times before spending the rest of your time with the Blacks.

‌Over the years the family grew more possessive towards you. You're basically adopted by them. Spending time with the family basically means you could get hurt, so Rhaenyra will always keep guards with you at all times. Daemon wanted to train you just so you could at least have a basic knowledge on self defense, but Jace claims that it will never happen. You don't need self defense because you're already safe with the family, the dragons are already protective towards you, plus people speak highly of your kindness. There is no one who will harm you.

‌Unknown to the family, your step-mother has finalized her plans for you. With the help of the witch, they created a poisonous apple, able to blend in with the other fruits inside the castle. Your step-mother whoever is still confused as to how the apple would only be eaten by you, but her worries are vanished when the witch decided that she herself could bring the apple to you. Your step-mother didn't care about how much she had to increase the pay, as long as you're gone forever then she'll be happy.

‌Soon the witch arrived in Kings Landing, disguising as a new servant as she works around; spying on you. She noticed how you're not always alone, people will accompany you everywhere you go. More so the prince, who always clings to your side whenever he got the chance. But the witch noticed how at night you'll always slip away from your chamber, going to the kitchen to grab a small snack. It'll be the perfect plan for her.

‌As Jace walks you to your room, he couldn't help but feel...off about today. Something about being watched by someone yet he couldn't find anyone. You asked Jace what's wrong, noting how he's always frowning as if deep in thought. "It's nothing, my love. Just felt it's wrong to leave you behind today. Something has been bothering me," Jace sighed.

‌"[Name]," Jace called you softly as he grabs both of your hands in his. "Whatever you do, do not go outside tonight. I've had the feeling that we're being watched but I'm hesitant if it's only my paranoia. But I'll talk to my mother, see if she also noticed something strange."

‌You nodded and agreed, ignoring the heat rising on your ears as Jace kissed your forehead before hugging you. You slipped inside as Jace walks away, sighing deeply before apologizing inside your heart to Jace. You waited for a while before slipping away to the kitchen, deciding to only grab a few snacks before coming back.

‌You thought you'll be alone, but you noticed a servant peeling some apples. Maybe for tomorrow? You've never seen a servant working this late but you decided to ignore it and instead searched for food.

‌"I'm sorry, my lady. But we've run out of our food," The servant answered when you asked her. You pouted, stomach grumbling loudly as you excused yourself from the kitchen. "Wait, my lady! If you want, you could have this apples. It might not full you, but at least you'll have something in your stomach," The servant smiled as she grabbed an apple from the rest. "Here, try it. It's very delicious."

‌You thought you heard her voice changed but ignored it when the apple was shoved in your hands. It did look delicious and you're hungry, so you took a bite. You hummed at the taste, wanting to take another bite. But your head grew dizzy, your vision getting blurry. You tried to grab onto the servant but it's as if she disappeared from the kitchen. You couldn't stay awake, falling to the ground as the apple rolled away. The witch smiled as her planned work, disappearing to the dark; leaving only you in the kitchen.

‌When a servant girl found you lying on the ground, she panicked and called the guards to alert the family. Daemon would be the first one to arrive, heart clenching at the sight of you lying there lifeless. He ordered the guards to bring you into your room as he noticed the rest of the family arriving. Rhaenyra would cry at the sight of you, following you as she holds your hand in hers. Daemon would hold Jace back, knowing how angry and confused the boy is at the gruesome sight. Luke will cry but helps Daemon at calming Jace down before he goes to see you, not wanting his brother losing his temper once again.

‌The maesters did everything they could do, but nothing worked. They told the family that you didn't die. You're still living yet unresponsive. Daemon would yell at them for not trying their best, Rhaenyra would shakily asked if there's any cure for you.

‌But after a few days, it seems the maesters have given up, telling the family that they don't have a clue what's going on. Jace would be livid, already staying by your side since you collapsed. He yelled at them for their incompetence, threatening that he'll kill them. Daemon would try to calm him down, Rhaenyra dismissing the maesters as to not cause more casualties.

‌The family would be devastated. Rhaenyra would visit you with Joffrey, talking to you about her day. Luke will sometimes join her but he couldn't stay too long. He couldn't stand seeing you in this state, wanting you awake again to play and joke around with him. Daemon would be too busy finding the culprit, interrogating people before killing them if they're no use to him. No use to you.

‌Jace would look calm on the outside, but on the inside he'll be devastated. Like Rhaenyra he will stay besides you for long periods of time. Brushing your hair as he talks about his day, talking about how Vermax missed your daily visits. If it's too much, he'll cry softly besides you; begging for you to come back to him. He regrets not telling you how he truly feels, regret building inside his heart as he holds your hand tightly.

It didn't help how Vermax would act more restless without you. Jace would have a hard time calming him down, Vermax could probably feel from the bond how his rider was also feeling restless and hopeless. Jace would also be haunted by your animal friends visiting your room when he's with you, shooing birds away when he noticed how they'll stay there.

‌One day, Jace feels so defeated as he saw you still lying lifeless on the bed. He would sit by your side, brushing your hair as tears fall through his eyes. "[Name], my love. I'm sorry for not helping you that night. I feel...so defeated. I can't—I can't look at you anymore in this state. It's torturing me inside to just be here and not be able to help you. I'm sorry, my love. I truly am."

‌Jace would feel terrible as he holds your hand. He'll reach up and brush your hair behind your ear as he kissed you softly on the lips. As he pulled away, he brushed his tears away, not noticing how your eyes fluttered. He'll sigh as he hold his head in his hands but his heart will stop when he heard the bed rustling. Jace will think he's gone crazy, but his holds his breath as he heard a soft voice. "Jace? Is that you?"

‌Jace would not believe it at first, but when he looked up, he saw you blinking your eyes. He would laugh incredulously, grabbing your face in his hands as he asked, "[Name], my love. Can you hear me?"

You would nod, making his smile even more wider as he hugs you tightly. He'll scream for the guards to notify his family, kissing your face softly as he repeats the words 'I love you' over and over again. You would be confused yet somewhat happy. You don't remember what happened after collapsing, so it must've been a big thing if Jace is acting like this.

‌Rhaenyra and Luke will be happy. Hugging you tightly before asking if you were okay, which you are. You're just confused when Jace told you you've been unconscious for the past few weeks.

‌Daemon would arrive late as he finally found the culprit, but he'll deal with it later when he noticed you're finally awake and healthy. He'll hug you before making sure you're alright and well.

‌The family would be more possessive and protective towards you after the incident, making sure you're comfortable and happy. Jace would be stuck to your side, now brave enough to tell you about his feelings as he wanted to marry you in the future. Rhaenyra would support it fully, happy that you'll officially be apart of her family. Dayana would be in tears, stressed out after not being able to meet you as you're unconscious.

‌Daemon will eventually ask you about you're background, wanting you to be fully honest if you want him to catch the culprit. The family would be by your side as you told them about your past. They'll be livid and angry at your step-mother. Daemon finally convinced that it was actually her doing all this time.

‌Days will past, you and Jace grew even more closer and told people about how you're lovers. He'll always be by your side, hand placed on your back as he softly whispered about how much he loves you; making you giggle and slap his arm when he whispers about something more dirty.

‌You ignored it when Daemon is back from his 'journey', bringing back a child resembling your step-mother. You ignored Daemon's bloody clothes as he talked to Rhaenyra about something. You ignored a bloody cloth with something bloody inside, almost shaped like a head. You don't want to worry about that.

‌Yet you worry about the child. So from then on, you treated the boy as if he's your sibling. Not wanting the weight of his mother's wrongdoing being put onto him. You're happy with your life now, you just hope in the future you'll be happier building your own little family with Jace.

#hotd #house of the dragon #yandere #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #series #princess!reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader

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wolfsbanesparks · 7 months

Note

How come the weirdest things happen in Fawcett? Gotham is definitely cursed if they still have all those maniacs and bad crimes happening. They are the Florida of the DC universe. but Fawcett is just

Weird. Why? I like it weird, although!

In a word: Magic

Fawcett City is directly connected to the Rock of Eternity which is basically the center of the universe where all magic comes from. There are doors to other dimensions and strange magical realms. All the weird just sort of leaks out from there into the city until anthropomorphic animals and demons and wizards are just daily occurrences. When your city's superhero is a 10 year old who was given the power of 6 gods by a wizard he met on the subway, you shouldn't really expect anything less.

Another reason (in some versions) is that the whole city was frozen in time for a few decades and are playing catch up! That's bound to make things a little wonky, especially with technology! Fawcett is filled with brilliant scientists (only some of which are evil supervillains) but none of them have ever used a computer. Everyone listens to the radio even though they all have cell phones that connect to the internet. They have a nice grab bag of old school and new school tech that makes them a little odd to everyone else.

Meta-textually? Fawcett City is largely a reflection of golden age comics in all their weird and whacky glory. Around the time of the epic copyright battle that stopped the production of new Captain Marvel comics, a lot of comics started leaning into more serious/realistic storylines. So when DC started making new Captain Marvel comics they kept the fun golden age stuff which made Fawcett City a much weirder place than other places in the DC universe.

Also meta-textually, our beloved Billy is a kid! His adventures are fantastical because those are the types of adventures kids want to have. As such Fawcett City had to be a place where anything could happen.

I totally agree, I also love it when Fawcett City is a weird little place! It's part of the charm!

#ask me whatever you want y'all #shazam #dc captain marvel #fawcett city is weird but a fun weird #billy batson #also I'm pretty sure Gotham IS canonically cursed

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all-mirth-no-matter · 1 year

Text

Time After Time | Chapter Nine

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You’re invited to stay the night at the Delphi camp. Despite the the way you feel after your reading, Tommy urges you not to cause trouble and to pretend like everything’s okay until you leave in the morning. Easier said than done…

Warning: language, alcohol, harassment, ethnic slur, almost smut

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter Nine: Dancing in the Moonlight

We like our fun and we never fight. You can't dance and stay uptight, it's a supernatural delight. Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight. — Dancing in the Moonlight, King Harvest

You were not a light weight.

Working in a bar for many years and having learned quite a few drinking games in college, your tolerance for alcohol had grown to an impressive height.

At least, that’s what you thought.

The thing was, having traveled back a hundred years, the food and drinks were a completely different animal.

For starters, just the simple access to food was something that, even to this day, you were still getting adjusted to. For the first month, you didn’t think you’d ever go a day when the subtle ache in your stomach from hunger would subside. It felt like a permanent fixture of your daily routine at that point.

You seriously could not wait until home refrigerators became an affordable thing. Or non-mice-infested pantries.

The hunger began to ease once your friendship with Ada deepened and your job with the Shelbys became routine. You weren’t sure if Polly could instinctively sense your in-neediness, or if it was just part of her caretaker character after looking after her niece and nephews for most of their lives — but either way, Polly was always shoving a plate or cup of something in front of you when you found yourself sitting in the family kitchen or the sitting room.

You thought it was odd at first, especially at the beginning when you didn’t think she liked you at all. But eventually you came to understand, and appreciate.

That appreciation bloomed tenfold when the boys came back and you stopped going over to the Shelby house for a couple weeks. Especially on the days when you were so busy and worked at the pub for such long hours, you’d get home and realized you hadn’t had a bite to eat at all since you woke up that morning.

You didn’t let yourself have too many of those days before you got smart, thinking ahead to stash some food in the pub office to eat on a break or when you got off work.

Thankfully, the night you’d played your drinking game with Tommy had been one of those days when you’d remembered to eat.

Today, you were beginning to realize, had not been one of those days.

After you and Tommy left Madam Despoina’s caravan, Johnny Dogs led you both to a bon fire and a blur of people shoved a plate of something in your right hand and a cup of something else in your left.

Not giving a flying fuck in the world about what was in the cup, you knew it had to be alcohol and you were desperate for some kind of solace from the absolute madness that you’d just had to endure.

So you downed the cup. And an instant later, someone was refilling it and you graciously downed it again without even so much as looking at your plate.

How did they expect you to eat after everything that’d just happened? How did Tommy expect you to just hang out with these people like their leader hadn’t just mind fucked the hell out of you? How were you supposed to act normal, like nothing happened, when you couldn’t even understand how your feet were moving under your body at this very moment?

Your cup was full again. By the time you felt a pair of hands grab your waist and pull you toward a seat by the fire, it was empty.

Without even looking to see who’s hands were on you, you knew it was Tommy. You should have been over analyzing the way your body had grown so comfortable with these small touches so quickly, but your brain was fritzing too much to appreciate again.

“You need to relax,” you heard softly, the vibrate of his voice against your ear and body heat against your side made you shutter.

Someone came over to refill your glass again, but before you could raise it to your lips, Tommy relinquished the drink from your grasp. Your brow furrowed as you looked over at him, noticing him give a pointed look at the refiller before meeting your eyes.

His brow lifted at your confusion and nodded toward the still untouched plate in your other hand. “Not ‘nother sip until you eat.”

You pouted slightly, missing the way his stern expression turned into amusement by your disappointment as you started to dig into the meat.

“If you expect me to relax and be sober tonight after what just happened, you’re crazy —“

“What I expect is for you to not cause trouble, to play merry guest to our hosts so that we get out of here unscathed in the morning,” his deep low voice vibrated through you once more at his closeness, and it made you shiver again.

He mistook your body’s reaction to his voice for being cold and wrapped his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder to try and warm you up while ordering you to keep eating. His body felt like a fortress around yours, and your brain began to slow in its spiraling.

You looked up at Tommy, watching the light from the fire dance across his brilliant blues as they continued to scan your surroundings. A feeling crept up in you as you outlined the profile of his face, focusing on where sharp lines met soft curves until you felt him pull you even closer to him, the arm around you tightening.

“May we help you?”

For a moment you thought Tommy was talking to you, having been so focused on him that you hadn’t heard anyone else approach the two of you.

Your head finally turned and your eyes adjusted until they landed on the man who escorted the three of you into the camp standing in front of you. His eyes were moving between you and Tommy, lingering longer on you, which caused Tommy’s grip to tighten again.

“Just wanted to see if the lady wanted to dance,” the man replied, sounding innocent enough as he stepped aside and gestured to the group of people dancing next to the fire. Music was playing somewhere on the other side and you were surprised that you hadn’t noticed it before.

“Perhaps later,” Tommy answered for you. “After she’s had a chance to finish eating.”

The plate that was still in your hand suddenly felt heavy at his words, remembering his instructions.

You were hating that in the last couple days, you felt like your brain was constantly trying to catch up with your surroundings. Usually you prided yourself on your awareness, but ever since Tommy flew into your life it felt like you couldn’t keep up.

It didn’t help that you were at least moderately buzzed at this point.

“Dancing would be fun,” you said, mostly to yourself, once the man left.

You felt Tommy sigh as you continued to pick off another piece of the meat.

“Fine,” Tommy said, rising from his seat. You shivered at the quick removal of his body heat from your side as you looked up at him confused. He offered his hand to you, “Let’s dance.”

“Um,” you hesitated, but moved to set down your plate as you took his hand and he pulled you upright. Your eyes scanned the bon fire where the others were dancing as Tommy led you closer, his hand on your back. “I, um — I actually don’t really know how to dance.”

“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised at your reveal, pulling you closer to him as you got to the dirt dance floor. “Well, allow me the honor of teachin’ you.”

He smiled as he faced you, taking your right hand in his and you instinctively placed your left hand on his shoulder. Your eyes continued to scan behind Tommy, trying to take in the motions of those around you to mimic as best you could. You saw Johnny Dogs spinning a woman around, both enjoying themselves to the upbeat tempo. There didn’t seem to be a pattern, but everyone looked like they knew exactly what they were doing. It eerily reminded you of dance clubs back in your time — rhythmic chaos.

“Eyes here,” Tommy’s soft voice snapped your eyes back to his, feeling his hand settle once again at the base of your back, pulling you closer to him. “The dancin’ at a gypsy camp is much different than a ballroom. You’ll find it’s quite difficult to waltz when the mud sticks to your soles.”

You chuckled at that, still feeling a little insecure as he began to move, taking a step backwards, and then forward, as your bodies began to hop to the beat. It was simple, like walking. But you couldn’t stop your eyes from watching your feet, unsure where Tommy’s lead was going to take you and paranoid that you’d step on his feet.

“Eyes, Y/N,” Tommy said again, his voice with more authority but still amused as you looked sheepishly back up at him. He chuckled, “If you watch your feet you’re bound to trip. Keep your eyes on your partner and your body will follow.”

“Tell that to your feet later,” you countered, still skeptic in his advice.

“Everyone can do the foxtrot — even me.”

Your chin nudged to the people beside you, who were dancing much wilder than you and Tommy. “And them? What dance are they doing?”

Tommy shrugged, “A variety, I suppose. Looks fun, dunnit?”

At that, Tommy pushed you outward and whipped the hand still holding yours so you’d spin back into him, your arm and his now wrapped around you as your body collided with his. You squealed in surprise, returning back to your original position. Tommy was smiling down at you as he pulled you in closer, moving your bodies faster than previous as the music quickened.

“It’s not far off from the dancing you do in the Garrison,” he reminded you. Your mouth opened to counter, a flush of embarrassment of him having watched you dance and sing when you thought you were alone in the pub, but he stopped you. “Just have fun with it. Don’t think, just feel.”

You hushed your original response and squeezed your lips together. Your eyes moved between his, “First horse steering, now dancing. What else can you teach me?”

He hummed, his cheek rising in amusement as his gaze moved lower to your lips.

Of course, Johnny Dogs chose that time to approach the two of you, dancing happily and obliviously as he shouted his greeting over the music.

“Johnny would be a much better teacher of dancing, I’m afraid you’ve exhausted my abilities,” Tommy said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You doubted his words, but Johnny perked up at the compliment and bowed dramatically, offering his hand to you politely.

You hesitated, not wanting to leave the comfort of Tommy’s embrace. Before you could counter, Tommy was handing you off and taking a step back. You missed the warning look shared between Tommy and Johnny Dogs as the latter pulled you closer to the group.

You looked behind you as Tommy walked back toward the log you’d previously been sitting at, his hands shoving into his pockets.

Some time passed (ten minutes, an hour, you had no idea) and you were learning that Johnny Dogs was an excellent distraction from your own intrusive thoughts. That, and the drink that kept appearing in your hands. By the fourth or fifth time Johnny Dogs had you spinning with his hand over your head, you found yourself thinking less about the circumstances of where you were and why, and even less about your out-of-time dancing skills, and actually began to relax.

And though you missed the intimacy of Tommy’s dancing, you found that Johnny Dogs was wonderful company. He was a good-time-Charlie if you’d ever seen one, and kept you smiling and laughing with every hop, skip, and beat.

You were spinning again, giggling as you kept your eyes closed before your body collided into another. The person grabbed your waist, and for a moment you thought it was Tommy finally coming back to join you.

But you quickly realized that the touch wasn’t the same, and turned until you faced the man who’d asked you to dance earlier.

You still didn’t know his name, but he smiled and pulled you in closer, taking your right hand into his left and sliding his right hand around to your back. He held you like he knew you, and all your instincts told you to pull away. But you couldn’t help but hear Tommy’s voice in the back of your mind telling you to behave, play nice until morning.

“Finally let you off his leash, did’he?” The man said with a wicked grin as he pulled you closer to him.

You narrowed your eyes at the implication that you were some kind of dog, and was about to say so when he continued.

“Madam Despoina told us you were someone special,” he went on, his eyes scanning your face, “said to be on our best behavior and to leave ya be. We were placing bets on who ya were. My guess was the missing princess.”

Your brow creased at that, for a moment forgetting the creepy grip and focusing on his words. “Missing princess?”

He chuckled, “Aye. Many a royal blood ‘as come to our camp or requested the Madam’s presence. You’d be surprised how many queens and princesses I’ve seen since joining the camp. They’re never as pretty as you expect them to be. You on the other hand—“

His finger ran down the side of your face before you shrugged away, his hand still around your waist.

“I was wrong though. No way you’re the missing princess. I’ve ‘eard Russians before, and they sound nothin’ like ya.”

Russian princess? You thought, trying to filter through your rolodex of historical royals. The obvious came to mind.

“Anastasia? Really?” your voice was less humorous and more ‘are you an idiot’ sounding than you’d meant.

The infliction didn’t go unnoticed. The man’s smiling face hardened slightly and his grip around your hand tightened. You immediately regretted your tone and looked over your shoulder to where Tommy had been sitting, but the log was empty.

“He’s gone,” the man said, knowing who you were looking for. “Went to get his own fortune told, no doubt. Men will pay or do anything for an audience with the Pythia.”

It seemed the old woman carried on the tradition of her ancestors. You wondered if this man was right and tried to discretely look around the camp for him, or even Johnny Dogs. Anyone to keep you from doing something that you’d later get in trouble for.

“Come on, doll face. What, are ya not having fun with me?” he asked, his voice back to what it’d been previously. It reminded you of every guy who’d never taken no for an answer back in your day.

“I’m just tired,” you finally mustered, trying to pull away from his grip. “I want to go find my friends.”

“Tired, huh? I can find you a place to lay down—”

“I don’t think so,” your voice stronger, your resolve to behave quickly starting to crack with the way this guy wouldn’t let go of you. “Please, let go of me.”

“But you’re drunk, love. Wouldn’t want’ya to fall. That face is so pretty. The Madam wouldn’t forgive me if I let anything happen to ya.” His grip tightened enough to pull your body close against him, this time without the pretense of dancing. He lifted his hand and moved your hair behind your ear, your skin flinching at his touch as you tried to shrug away again.

You looked around to see if anyone else was noticing the harassment, but during your dance he’d managed to pull far enough from the fire where no one was paying the two of you any mind.

“I doubt she’d be happy with you pushing yourself on her guest,” you tried to bite out, still trying to maintain some kind of politeness even though you were two seconds away from kicking the guy in the balls and running.

His eyes narrowed and smile began to fall as his hand grabbed the side of your head, his fingers forcing your face to look up at him while his thumb spread harshly along your cheek. “She said you were important. That you had a gift. Know what that says to me? That you can make someone a lot of money, eh?”

“Get the fuck off me,” you finally spit, balling up the man’s shirt in your fists that were sandwiched between your bodies as you tried to push him away.

But his grip tightened as his head began to move closer to your face. You thought for sure he was going to try and force himself on you, and you were already prepping to slam your head into his face before his lips could even try and touch yours.

You didn’t get the chance to. Suddenly, the man was being pulled backwards and Tommy’s face appeared over his shoulder.

“Mind tellin’ me what you’re doing?” Tommy asked the man, surprisingly calm.

The man shoved out of his grasp and shook his shoulders. “We were just dancin’!”

You scoffed, “Yeah, and I’ll dance my foot in your ass the next time you grab me like that!”

The man growled, taking a step forward toward you before Tommy grabbed him by the collar, fist full of shirt as he pivoted himself between the two of you and pulled him closer to his face.

“Do you know who I am?”

The man tried to shove away, but Tommy’s grip was strong and moved to his throat. The creep looked between his captor and then to you, as if you could save him. As if you’d even try. He finally coughed and nodded.

“So you know what I do. I give you this chance because we are guests of Madam Despoina and we’re not here to make enemies. But I’ll promise you this, there will not be another chance. The next time you lay a finger on her, my blade goes through your fucking throat.”

Tommy let go of him, nearly shoving him to the ground in the process. While the man tried to catch his breath, Tommy reached behind him until your hand was safely in his own. He pulled you to his side, his eyes finally leaving the other man as you both walked back toward the fire.

Johnny Dogs was running your way, his eyes reading the situation as he looked behind you and began an apology.

“Save it,” Tommy spat. “Just make sure the horses are ready by dawn. We’re going to the caravan.”

Johnny nodded and you gave him an apologetic look. It wasn’t his fault that the creep had led you away. You weren’t a child and he wasn’t a baby sitter. But you doubted Tommy wasn’t thinking that way.

He brought you to another wagon similar to the one Johnny Dogs had been driving, parked along the outskirts of the campsite. There was a small fire just outside, and a rope tied from the wagon to the nearby tree.

You were about to walk in, the drunk part of your brain (who was trying to detach from the traumatic experience you’d just been a part of) eager to see what the inside of this caravan looked like, when Tommy stopped you.

His grip made you jump, pulling away from it quickly, your defensive guard still sensitive after what had just happened. Tommy held up his hands, obviously reading the situation and silently apologizing.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, his hand reaching up to gently touch your face as his eyes scanned you over.

You breathed out a humorless chuckle at his calmness, “How are you always so— god, you nearly killed that man after he tried to—“ your voice was surprisingly weak as the words died in your throat.

It wasn’t the first time a man had been grabby with you. Even before your trip to the past, working in a bar and just the everyday life of a girl who enjoyed the occasional night out with her friends. You’d had guys grab you, push themselves against you, even forcibly kiss you. Thankfully, you’d never had anything go further than that. After a time that came too close with a boy you thought was a good friend, you took some self defense classes with your girl friends and started integrating kick-boxing into your workout routine. Since then, you’d only had to use your new skills a handful of times, and luckily each time you’d been able to get away or have the man back off. Even now, in the 20th century, you’d only had to physically fight off one man at the pub, and you’d been lucky to have Harry as backup. But you knew not to let your guard down, especially when you walked the streets after dark.

What happened to you just now, well it felt much different. It wasn’t a drunkard trying to cop a feel. This man felt like he wanted to own you, control you. And you hated feeling like you couldn’t fight back, all because of whatever social standard bullshit this was supposed to be.

Suddenly, you were angry at Tommy for having put you in that position in the first place.

“It took everything for me not to slice his fuckin’ neck open the minute I saw his hands on you,” Tommy replied, his eyes revealing the silent rage behind them. “But that would have spawned a vendetta and a bullet with my name on it by the Delphi family.”

“That what Madam Despoina told you would happen?” you asked, deciding to test the creep’s theory.

Tommy’s brow creased at your query, his mouth tightened and you already knew your answer.

“I had to settle payment for our visit,” he explained evenly. “This wasn’t exactly a favor.”

Your anger evaporated as the realities of the situation came into view through your slightly more sober stupor. “How much? Whatever it was, I’ll pay you. Take it out of my paycheck, whatever you need to do.”

Tommy huffed, shaking his head before he started messing with the fire. “Drop it, Y/N—“

“I’m not a hand out, Tommy. And I’m not a doll to be played with at the will of everyone around me,” your voice was harsher than you meant it to be, obviously still affected by the days events.

It was more than that, even. Your mother, the time jump, being a woman in the 1910s — you were constantly feeling like you were at the mercy of everyone else controlling your life, your future.

Tommy stood up and cautiously approached you, still sensitive to what you’d just gone through. You suddenly felt dizzy — the alcohol, the adrenaline, the lack of food all in your system. Your knees buckled slightly like a scene out of a cheesy rom-com and Tommy caught you, pulling you against him to stabilize you.

Your body froze, for a moment feeling like it was in danger again. But you immediately recognized the familiarity of Tommy’s grip and found yourself relaxing into it, trusting his hold on you.

“You’re a strong woman,” he mused softly, lifting your head up to look at him. “I know you were holding yourself back for my sake. Next time, don’t.”

You all but growled, “You told me to behave.”

“Aye. And I behaved enough for leaving him uncut. But I’d rather face the curse of a fuckin’ angry gypsy than have someone even come close to threatening you again.”

Tommy blinked at his words, obviously surprising himself with them along with you. You didn’t know the first thing about Romani curses, but you knew enough to realize that what Tommy had just said meant something serious.

He cleared his throat, his grip still holding onto you. “I’ll find out from Johnny Dogs who he is in the mornin’. Whoever he is, he’s high enough to be given escort duties. Believe me, I’ll make sure his actions don’t go unnoticed.”

You nodded, surprisingly okay with letting him take the reigns in how to handle this situation.

“Go on now,” he nudged you toward the caravan. “The clothes we packed are inside. Change, and I’ll hang up your dress on the line so the mud dries by morning.”

At his words, you lifted up your skirt and felt the heaviness of the wet mud soaked in the fabric. You surprised yourself with how used to the dirt you’d gotten, not even noticing the weight anymore or that your socks were always just slightly damp.

You climbed up the stairs and sat at the top, leaning forward to unlace your boots and slide off your shoes and sock. He tied the laces of your boots together and hung them and your socks over the line.

You sent Tommy another look as you stood up at the top of the stairs, half worried that he’d disappear again like he had when he left you to dance.

He seemed to recognize your look and moved to the doorway. This was the first time you’d ever been taller than Tommy, and you took in the new angle of his face as your fingers itched to reach out.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, love. Go, get dry and warm. I’ll stand guard right here where you can see me.”

Silently, you nodded as you finally entered the caravan.

Inside, an oil lamp and a few candles were lit so you could see, and you were surprised at how big the inside was. It was different than the one you’d been in to meet Madam Despoina. It was interesting how much it resembled a modern day sleeping RV — bed palette against the back wall, vanity to your right, even a small stove and fireplace to your left. You ran your hand along the wall and marveled at the beauty of the carvings and ornate decorations that lavished the space. The whole thing was absolutely beautiful and you wanted to meticulously look at every single piece of art that was this caravan.

Your foot hit the bag Tommy had packed you and you remembered what you were there for, rummaging through and grabbing the nightgown Tommy had shoved in there without you realizing. Luckily, it’d been one of the clean ones, and you sent a quick prayer to whatever god you needed to be thanking for this miracle. Even if you were in the 1910s, you’d still be mortified if you had to share a bed with a man wearing dirty clothes.

You paused, both realizing and wondering if you actually were going to be sharing this bed with Tommy tonight. On the vanity, there was an empty bowl and pitcher of water. You peeled out of your warm clothes, peeking over your shoulder to double check that the door was still closed while still being able to see Tommy’s silhouette through the stained glass. The cold air hit your skin, and you were suddenly thankful for this centuries insistence on wearing multiple layers of clothing.

You sacrificed a splash or two of water from the pitcher to give yourself a quick hand wash, focusing on the essentials at the moment — your hands, face, neck, arm pits, under your breasts, and between your legs, even swishing some in your mouth and spitting it into the unlit fireplace. You gave yourself a sniff with semi-satisfaction (not that you trusted your sense of smell at all anymore, though being out of Birmingham and in the outdoors definitely increased the aroma in the air) before finally throwing on the nightgown.

You appraised yourself in the small vanity mirror, pulling the pins out of your hair and combing it with your fingers until some of the tangles released. In the nightgown, a scene from the movie The Mummy came to mind and you felt like Evie from the boat scene, realizing that in just a few fictional years Brendan Fraser would be battling over the City of the Dead.

Shaking the frivolous thought from your head, you gathered up your clothes and finally walked back toward the door, knocking on it before opening. Tommy took them from you and secured them on the line before standing back in front of the doorway. His eyes took you in, and you suddenly felt shy, questioning the sheerness of the nightgown with the light illuminating behind you.

“Oh, you need to change too!” You realized, almost jumping as you tried to figure out where you needed to go in order for him to do that.

“Hand me the bag, I can change out here.”

Your brow creased. “It’s way too cold out here for you to do that.”

“It’s too cold for you to stand out here in just that as well,” he responded, gesturing toward you. Feeling even more exposed, you found yourself crossing your arms over your chest, as if that could hide anything.

He took off his jacket, and for the first time you noticed the shoulder holster. He hadn’t had it on the other night, which you found curious, and you were realizing that aside from the blade in his hat, this was the first time you were seeing Tommy Shelby with a weapon.

Your eyes moved with the movement of his hands as he began to unhooked his watch chain before putting it and the watch back in the pocket. He shrugged off the holster, cradling it in the bend of his arm as he started unbuttoning his vest. The motion snapped you out of your gaze as you stood there awkwardly, wondering if you should be turning away to give him his privacy when he handed the contents and his hat to you. “Hang these on the hook inside.”

You moved at his instructions, ready to make yourself busy. Before you could return to the doorway, Tommy was making his way up the steps. You noticed he’d hung up his breeches, socks, and shoes, as well as put out the fire. He stood in the doorway in nothing but his pants, shirt, and shoulder holster, waiting for permission to enter the caravan from you.

Grabbing the bag that wasn’t yours, you handed it to him and cleared your throat, trying to keep your eyes from staring too long.

In the past few months since you’d arrived in 1918, you’d been so preoccupied with surviving and trying to figure out what was going on, your love life had been the very last thing on your mind. Even before you time jumped, you’d been going through a dry spell in your dating life.

Tommy Shelby had reignited something that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. And despite every reasonable argument you’d had with yourself since the moment you met him, you absolutely couldn’t deny your attraction to him on both an emotional and physical level.

Suffice it to say, it’d been quite a while since you’d been alone with a man in a bedroom before. And of all the things, there was no way being alone with a 1918’s gangster in his underwear was on your time travel bingo card.

You were wondering if they had the game bingo yet while Tommy rummaged through the bag, grabbing a pair of socks and handing them to you.

“These are bound to be much warmer than whatever is in your bag. First rule we learned in France durin’ the winter was to always keep our head and feet warm and dry.”

Unsure how to respond, you grabbed the socks and followed his orders again. You realized what a militant follower you were when you had no idea what to do with yourself or how to handle your own awkwardness. As you sat on the bed and put on the socks, you watched Tommy start up the fireplace easily, mumbling something about wishing he’d done it earlier. But you were already starting to feel warmer with the door shut, the thicker socks, and the extra body heat within the small space.

You were trying to convince yourself that it was safe falling asleep in this wooden box with a fire burning when Tommy’s voice grew louder.

“Right, that’ll do it,” he said when he finished, rising from the floor.

You were still seated on the edge of the bed when he turned toward you. The air grew thick with a tension you easily recognized but refused to name.

He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he looked down at his feet. “I’ll take the floor. I grabbed the extra blankets when I brought in our bags.”

Your brow creased as you looked from Tommy to the hard, wooden floor, and then behind you to the bed you still sat on. The palette was easily wide enough to fit the two of you.

“That’s silly,” you found yourself saying before you could stop yourself. Tommy paused putting together his makeshift bed and his eyes snapped to yours. You forced your heart to slow and tried to appear cool. “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the ground when there’s plenty of room on the mattress.”

“I didn’t want to impose,” he said cautiously, not yet moving to join you on the bed but also not continuing to make the spot on the floor.

“We’re not teenagers. I think we can control ourselves,” you chuckled, trying to convince both Tommy and yourself that this was the only reasonable option. “I can trust you, right?”

You surprised yourself with the vulnerability behind your question. Your voice must have implied the same because Tommy’s throat bobbed as he considered it.

The truth was, you did trust him. The rational part of your brain was calling you crazy, especially after what had just happened. But there was something deep in your gut that made you irrationally feel safe in Tommy’s company. You’d been alone with this man more than you had been with him in the company of others, you realized, and this was nothing different.

You’d just be laying in a bed. Alone. In your underwear.

“Yes,” Tommy answered simply, though the strength in his voice held the weight of the implication. “I’d like to still sleep closest to the door, if you don't mind.”

You shook your head, scooting backwards on the mattress until you hit the back wall.

“You sure you don’t mind?” Tommy asked as he approached the bed, throwing the blankets at the foot. “The camp may talk.”

Your brow creased. “Don’t they already think that we’re together anyway, since they only offered us the one caravan to stay in?”

Tommy shrugged, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, leaning against the wall to face you. “Perhaps. But I could have slept in the wagon we came in, or in Johnny’s caravan.”

“I guess,” you replied, leaning back against the opposite wall. “So why didn’t you?”

He breathed out of his nose before reaching to scratch his neck. “I left you alone once tonight. I’m not plannin’ to do that again, not here at least. If you weren’t comfortable with me staying inside the van, I’d spend the entire night sitting against the door. I’d still do that, if you decide to change your mind.”

You felt your face blush slightly, instinctively moved by the protectiveness of his words. A few hours ago you may have protested against needing the bodyguard-like protection, stating that you could take care of yourself just fine. But after the crazy day you’d had — the dream, the reading, the creep — you decided to give in and let him have his way without the usual color commentary.

Your pride would never let yourself admit it out loud, but in this moment, you welcomed the safety he was offering and tried to not read too much into it.

“I’m sorry again for that. I shouldn’t have left you.”

You shrugged, trying to rationalize the situation. “It’s no one’s fault. He was determined to get me alone, it would have happened regardless. I’m just glad you got there before I knocked his teeth in. Or something worse.”

You both remained silent for a beat.

“I wish you hadn’t left, though. I was enjoying dancing with you.”

He scoffed, “I saw how much fun you were having with Johnny Dogs. He’s a much better dancer than I am. You were loosening up more with him.”

You shrugged. “I would have gotten there with you, if you’d stayed. You make me nervous, sometimes.”

Tommy hummed, an amused smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “You didn’t seem nervous in the wagon.”

Your eyes met his, searching to see the exact meaning behind his words. He was talking about your move to kiss him, though he hadn’t said it outright.

“I was. You hesitated,” your voice softer than you intended, your own insecurities prevalent.

He breathed in as his eyes flashed down to your lips and then back to meet your eyes. “I’m a cautious man, Y/N.”

“And you don’t trust me,” you swallowed, your eyes dropping down to the spot beside him as Tommy’s own words from earlier that morning rang through your head.

You heard him breath in deeply through his nose before exhaling. At the feel of him pushing himself off the bed, your eyes moved back to him as you watched him walk to your side of the caravan before sitting back down.

“I’ll admit, that was an oversimplification to our current situation,” he said as he lifted his hand to your face, his eyes watching your reaction.

You hated how desperate you wanted him to say he trusted you. So much so, your brain began to scramble to find the words to tell him everything right then and there.

“Tommy,” you breathed out, your mouth ghosting against his as your body instinctively leaned forward.

“You have secrets, but no lies. I can accept that and reciprocate.”

“I don’t want secrets,” you managed to say honestly as your eyes moved between his.

“Aye. Neither do I. But until then,” his voice died as his thumb brushed across your cheek and his pointer lifted your chin the half inch it needed to line your lips up to his.

There was no hesitation this time. Tommy kissed you with purpose and depth as his hands raked through your hair to cradle your neck. You met his attention with gusto to match, your hands moving from his chest to his back as you pulled yourself closer.

When he began to pull away, your arms flexed to keep him against you. You felt his mouth smirk as it hovered over yours, your forehead still pressed against his own before your lips met his again. Your kiss demanded to know why he continued to hold himself back.

His only response was to tilt his head and open his mouth as his thumb stroked the pulse at your neck before wrapping around your waist. Without warning, he lifted you up and pulled you onto his lap, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as your hands held on to his shoulders. Your fingers found purchase in his hair as you leaned his head back to connect your lips again.

His hands raked across the expanse of your back and up your sides, his thumb ghosting against the swell of your breasts in an aching tease. On instinct, your hips rolled forward, desperate for some kind of friction to the tightly wound tension that’d been building since the minute you’d seen each other down at the Cut. Tommy’s grip tightened as he groaned at the motion, the evidence of his own enjoyment of your body against his clear as your hips moved to repeat.

A loud bang at the caravan door caused you both to jump, whipping your heads toward the noise as you gasped. For a moment, you were worried it was the man from earlier back for round two. A second knock followed by a voice calling for Tommy determined it was Johnny Dogs. You let out a relieved breath before it turned to annoyance — how did that man always manage to interrupt you both just when things were starting to get good. You huffed, still trying to slow your heart rate as your forehead met Tommy’s again.

“Jesus fuckin—“ Tommy swore as he sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth at the third loud knock.

He took your face between his hands before kissing you again. A fourth knock finally had him pulling away from you as you crawled off his lap.

“Someone’d better be dying,” he said under his breath as he ran his hand across his face and walked across the caravan toward the door. He shouted from the inside of the still closed door, “What?”

“It’s Madam Despoina,” Johnny Dogs said from the other side. “She wants a word. Now.”

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

tag list: @cillixn @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @swordofawriter @sweetmilkshakeluminary @ttae-yong @topstory21 @cole-silas @moral-terpitude @optimisticsandwichgladiator @reallysparklychaos @enrapturedbythemoon @bat-shark-repellant @kpopslur @ilovestrngrthgs @musicsweetie21 @invisiblexcth @lovelydivs @whoisf4yryl0v3r @itscheybaby @laylasbunbunny @lordofthunderthr @luvstylesz @roseanimelover @lostgirl219 @berarenado @akemiixx01 @mulletmcghee @jasminxts @fanfics-that-hit-my-feels @piceous21 @xoprincessmel @invisiblexch @arcanebabe

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #time after time #fanfic #mine

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the-caleb-widogast · 9 months

Text

#the mighty nein #critical role #mighty nein

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grandlinedreams · 6 months

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hi is it possible to request a good old (modern) coffee shop au with a little twist of law being a barista and reader being a regular customer….. like how he would ask them out in this situation and stuff like that

also i sure hope youre not tired of writing for the same character over and over again but damn you capture laws personality so well im jealous lmao

OH BLESS i love me a good coffeeshop au, they're always so cute :(( and i'm absolutely not tired of writing for Law, that man rattles around in my brain on the daily ㅡ I hope that this is to your liking!!

[Heads up!: coffeeshop!au, Shachi and Penguin being the worlds silliest guys, law is a little oblivious, fluff!]

"Oh look, it's your favorite customer."

Law doesn't like the sly look on Penguin's face, the grin that promises trouble even as Law turns at the chime of the little cluster of bells above the cafe door.

"Hey, [Name]!" Shachi greets you, and Law doesn't like the look on his face either.

"Hey guys," you say as you approach, fluffy white samoyed pressing into your side, tail swaying gently. "Hope you don't mind me bringing Bepo in."

"Nah," Shachi produces a treat from beneath the counter near the service case, kept tucked away for the occasional four legged visitors like Bepo. "You know we love him."

"Some of us love more than just Bepo," Penguin intones and Law's eyes flick to him and narrow in warning, but his coworker only grins.

"Okay..." Your tone is polite despite the confusion on your face, and you refocus on Law. "Could I get my regular, please?"

A small smile tugs at Law's lips, expression softening. "Sure."

There's snickering from behind him that makes him want to chuck the tip jar at the duo, but he resists in favor of waving off the little folded bundle of cash that you try to hand him. "On the house."

"Really?" Your head tilts. "Odd, wasn't it like that last time?" Law flinches, but you're still smiling, and he watches you drop the money into the tip jar. "I feel bad if I don't give something."

You pull away from the counter before he can protest, Bepo padding alongside you as you take your usual seat at the tiny couch tucked in the corner.

"Dude," Penguin intones from behind him, clapping him on the shoulder. "You are so whipped."

ㅡ

Law has watched you come in to the Polar cafe nearly every day for the last two months. It's hard not to develop a sense of camaraderie when you see someone that often, and despite his best efforts, he has to admit that it's shifted into a want for something more romantic towards you. The problem is, of course, that he has no idea how you feel.

Penguin and Shachi, having witnessed this go on for the last two months, are of the opinion that he's worried about nothing and that his feelings are mutual.

"Law, they come to this cafe every day and ask for you. They said you make the best latte."

"There's also like six other cafes closer than this one and they come here. Pretty sure they like you too."

Law still worries. He's gotten used to your company, enjoys it ㅡ he doesn't want to ruin what the two of you have if he's misreading things.

"When's my turn to get cute little foam animals in my stuff," Penguin whines as he watches Law do his best to shape little white ears into the foam.

"Gotta find someone who likes you, dude." Shachi dodges the halfhearted swipe from Penguin.

"There are plenty of people who like me."

"Online doesn't countㅡ"

"Shut up, both of you." Law cuts in, banter making it hard to focus on getting the eyes shaped right. Both men peer at the cup.

"Is that Bepo?"

"Looks more like a polar bear."

"Shut up."

He sets the cup down on the tray carefully before he snatches a napkin and a marker, bent over his work to keep the pair of troublemakers from seeing.

They watch him pick up the order and the napkin, and Penguin turns towards Shachi. "Five bucks says he's asking them out."

"No way, he's a chicken."

ㅡ

"Here you go," Law says, announcing his presence before he sets down the cup and you turn from where you'd been cooing over Bepo, eyes flicking to the cup.

"Oh," you say, "is that Bepo?" Law nods, nervous ㅡ and then you beam. "It's so cute, I almost don't want to drink it."

The real Bepo yawns beside you, watching Law with dark, round eyes before pillowing his head on your lap. He watched you reach for the napkin and his heart leaps ad he moves to leave.

"Excuse me," you call and he stills, turning on his heel to face you once more. Your expression is amused as you hold up the napkin that he'd carefully written his number on, along with the question he's been wanting to ask you for weeks. "Gonna ask me out and then run away before I answer? Seems pretty rude."

"Depends on your answer," he responds, and you laugh.

"I thought it'd have been obvious that I like you, Law." Your eyes gleam. "You're the only one who makes my drink and I come here to see you."

"Oh," Law says, and though Penguin and Shachi were right, he's not about to admit that. "So..."

"What time do you get off? We can talk about that date."

A smirk tugs at his lips. "I get off in five minutes."

You beam. "Perfect."

(A week later when Law finally tells Penguin and Shachi that he's leaving early for his second date with you, Penguin gleefully ends up five dollars richer.)

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous #–ml: law.

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koolades-world · 1 year

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The moment the om cast realized they were in love with you (part two)

Satan

Satan was unsure how to approach this situation. He was sure something was wrong. Mc had not been acting like themself. He and his brother usually spent every waking moment they could with him, but lately, they had made themself scarce. There was a new lock on their door, and since they had gone through the trouble to install one, nobody had the heart to go in anyways.

It started in the middle of the week, what seems like randomly. Solomon came over, helped them install the lock, and then left which was odd in itself. Usually he took every moment he could with them to steal time from the brothers. Then, they requested to swap to online school, like Levi, for the next two months.

When Lucifer questioned this, they claimed that human shedding season has started. They said it was when skin cells start producing excess skin cells to produce a new layer, kind of like a shedding animal. In order to avoid embarrassment and a large mess, they figured it would be best to do school from their room. When asked why Solomon was fine, they said it was because after a certain age, this cycle ceases and Solomon was long past that age. To the brothers, it made sense at first. Solomon seemed to understand the situation with no question. However, Satan began to notice inaccuracies in their story and quickly picked it apart not even after two weeks.

He didn’t see this alleged shedded skin anywhere. If they were shredding, surely these little hits would scatter everywhere. If anything, it seemed cleaner than usual. He knew they were moving throughout the house after everyone has gone to their room but there was still no mess in sight. He also noticed Mc always seemed tired. They had said this process was not draining or painful. If anything, they should he getting more sleep. They also seemed to be getting a weird amount of deliveries. And finally, he was pretty sure humans didn’t have this “shedding season”. He knew Solomon pretty well and had read lots of books about humans leading up to the exchange program. Not anywhere did books mention this, not in their biology section nor in the habits section. He figured Lucifer knew too, but asking him was not an option.

He was worried about them. He had grown to really like Mc and was kind of upset by not being able to see them on a daily basis. Seeing them smile stirred fuzzy feelings within, something he had never felt before. He had read multiple books but was unable to find an answer.

He was unsure how to approach them and ask what was actually wrong. Thankfully, this opportunity came to him. Late one night, he got up to get some tea after finishing one book in his series, and planned to move onto the next. When he got to the kitchen, he was surprised Beel wasn’t there. But, there was a mess, not one that any of his brothers would leave. The counter was covered in a powdery white substance he thought was baby formula and a small baby bottle sat out on the counter. He immediately jumped to the worst case scenario: Mc was taking care of a baby.

As he went to press his ear up to their door before knocking, he noticed the door wasn’t fully closed. It was locked but it was never pushed into place. Now that the door was open, he heard the rustling of sheets and blankets, and a soft mewing. Not wanting to wait any longer, he pushed open the door. Inside, was Mc, cradling a small kitten and holding a baby bottle identical to the one on the counter. They froze, but the kitten continue wiggling.

"Satan! What a surprise to see you here." They nervously laughed, knowing there was no getting out of this situation.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He shut the door behind him and sat on Mc's bed next to them to look better at the kitten. Behind them was a small cat carrier with two more kittens within. They were asleep by the looks of it.

"I didn't want to bother anyone. I knew Lucifer would make me get rid of them, but I don't think I could. I found them on my way back from RAD. I felt awful and I needed to take them home with me. This is Becca" The one Mc was holding was a black and white kitten, and looked no older than a few weeks. She peered up at Satan with formula on her face, giving her a beard of sorts. Mc wiped her face with a tissue and gave her a kiss on the head.

"Let me help. You need rest. I'll help you keep them hidden from Lucifer and my brothers." He laid one of his hands over theirs.

"You're really sweet, you know that? You of all people would know how time consuming this would be yet it's the first thing you said after I explained. You're nicer than most humans." They scooted closer to him. They held the kitten up to his ear and he heard a gentle purring. A small smile spread across their face.

It was at this moment he realized he was in love with them. Seeing them be so affectionate with what he considered one of the most defenseless and adorable creatures ever warmed his heart. He had never experienced this before. Nobody but them was willing to let someone like himself get to close to them, and be vulnerable. As they began explaining everything to him and cuddled him close, he felt himself slipping further into love with them.

Asmo

Asmo's day was going absolutely horrific. It all started that morning when he ran out of his favorite clay face mask. He thought he had another container, but it was nowhere to be found. He was forced to move on without it. Next, his hair curler broke. It let out a strange hissing sound before letting out a small puff of black smoke. He decided it would be best not to put it near his hair in order not to risk his beautiful face. He could get over that though. It gave him another excuse to go shopping.

When he went to the fridge to search for his coconut water, it turned out Beel had eaten the container whole. He knew that was to be expected but he had put his name on it and everything. Once he arrived to RAD, there was a pop quiz in both potions and seductive speechcraft. He was decent at both of those subjects, thankfully, but he had been hoping for a less eventful day in class. Now, there he was, crying in the bathroom. His makeup was running all over his face which ruined what he had worked so hard on that morning. During lunch, he had gotten into a fight with a lower demon who insisted he wasn't pretty and had scratched him across his face. He was with Mc and Mammon at the time. He knew after he had stepped back, Mammon probably beat the shit out of that demon, but that didn't make it hurt any less. He hoped Mc was okay.

He gazed at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and his hair was plastered against his forehead thanks to the tears and running makeup. All his hard work, gone. A still bleeding, very ugly, and very large scratch ran from directly under his left eye to his chin. He had left his bag behind when he ran off, and couldn't fix how he looked without it. He broke out into a new wave of tears after seeing himself again.

He could hear footsteps outside the bathroom stall door. A pair of familiar shoes peaked out. "Asmo? Are you in there? Please let me in." He heard the voice of Mc.

"I don't want you to come in. I'm hideous." He stood with his back to the mirror and facing the door.

"I brought your bag because I knew you would want to fix yourself up. If you let me in, I'll help you. I can help you with the scratch too." His heart warmed a little at the fact the Mc remembered him so well. For a moment, he forgot about everything to think about how happy he felt around Mc.

"Do you promise not to make fun of me?" He sniffled and put his hand on the door knob. Somehow, if it was just Mc seeing him like this, he didn’t mind as much.

"I promise. I would never say anything mean about you. I think you're the most beautiful being in the three realms." Their words comforted him. With that, he opened the door. Mc launched themself at him and held him close in a hug. His pink bag was over their shoulder along with their own. They shut the door behind them. As they cupped his face with their hands, he avoided eye contact. he couldn't bring himself to look them in the eyes. After all, he had just disappeared and had no clue how long Mc had been searching for them. For once, he was ashamed of himself.

"Look at me. You look just fine. No matter what, you will always look pretty to me. You're beautiful inside and outside. There wasn't a moment where you didn't support me, and now it's my turn to support you. Every time I woke up with a bad hair day or thought an outfit of mine was awful, you lifted me back up. You helped fix my hair, you told me my outfit was cute, and most importantly, you are my closest friend here. Mammon is taking that scum to Lucifer who'll give him what he deserves. You are gorgeous." Their words enveloped him as much as their hug. They wiped his tears off his face and smiled at him.

"Thank you." They set down their bag on the floor and began searching for the things Asmo would need within his. After directing him to sit down, they began cleaning up his face, makeup and cut. After clipping up his hair, they thought for a moment before moving on to heal his cut with magic. His whole body felt warm, not just thanks to the healing magic. He was so touched by their actions, all to make him feel better. They brushed a thumb over where the cut was and felt that it was totally gone. Before they could continue, he pulled them into another hug. He had never felt this way about anyone except himself before. He immediately recognized this feeling as love. He was unsure about how to feel about it, but he decided to shelf that feeling for a while to enjoy the fuzzy feelings and the moment.

Beel

Today was another normal day. Beel has just finished that day’s Fangol practice, which he always looked forward to. As much as he liked Fangol, he and Mc always went out to get food together afterwards. On his Thursday practices, they had art club, so they would leave school at the same time. Thursdays were his favorite. Beel has selected a restaurant specifically to Mc’s taste. After showering in the locker room and grabbing his bag, he went to look for you. He found you chatting with the cheerleaders, who also had practices on Thursdays. He enjoyed getting to see Mc making friends with people he knew so well.

“Mc, are you ready to leave?” He approached the small group.

“Beel! Of course, give me one moment to grab my things. Bye everyone, see you next week. Remember to watch the TV show, so worth it, trust me.” They said their goodbyes to their cheerleader friends, and turned around to see that Beel already has their bag. “Oh, thank you. You’re the best.”

“Let’s go.” He grabbed their hand with his free hand and they left together. The cheerleaders could be heard giggling behind them.

“So, what are we getting?” Mc swung their arms between them with their connected hands. This always made him giddy.

“I found a new place that serves human world food. The exchange program made it popular.” He hoped this would make them happy. He liked seeing them in a good mood.

"That sounds delicious. While that's pretty broad, I'm hoping I can get some sushi to bring back for Belphie!" He was glad Mc cared for his younger brother just as much as he did, enough to think about bringing food for him even though they didn't have to. Thankfully, the restaurant wasn't too busy and they were seated quickly. People recognized Beel, which probably sent the restaurant staff into a panic, but the people around them were mostly excited. People also seemed to recognize Mc, and people actually came up to say hi to the two of them. It made him happy to see other people appreciate Mc just has much as he did.

Thankfully, the restaurant had all of Mc's favorite human world cuisines and before the meal was over they ordered Belphie's sushi. They sat at the table together, waiting for the takeout. A lower demon approached the pair. Beel sensed something was off about them.

"So you're the exchange student everyone has been raving about. You're just as gorgeous in person. It's a pleasure to meet you Mc." They kissed their hand. Mc nervously looked at Beel.

"Do I know you?" They snatched their hand back.

"No, but I know you. We're in potions together." A look of realization swept over Mc, followed by horror.

"You're that freak pride demon I stopped Mammon from killing." This demon just stood there, smiling. Beel, who was typically not very good at reading situations, quickly realized what he needed to do.

"You should leave." He got up and cracked his knuckles. The demon took a step back. The demon looked at Mc from around Beel, so Beel personally grabbed him by his collar and kicked him out of the restaurant. Nobody wanted to question the avatar of gluttony, so everything resumed as it was before.

"Are you okay?" Beel knelt next to Mc rather than taking his own chair again.

"Yes. Thank you. They tried to corner me in an empty classroom but before they could corral me in, Mammon found us and almost killed them. I made Mammon promise not to kill him or tell Lucifer, since I thought maybe it would be a one off thing. I was wrong." They threw their arms around Beel's neck. He hugged them back after recovering from the initial surprise. "Thank you so much."

Beel felt himself grow less hungry, and more happy. Hearing their relief and joy made him feel oddly satiated. He couldn't remember the last time he felt like this. He didn't know how to convey this feeling thought words, but the best he could do was hug them back tightly, but not too tightly. Feeling their face pressed against his was more than enough for him.

Belphie

There was one thing Belphie knew for sure besides hating Lucifer; he hated bath time. Not in the toddler way, but bath time meant cleaning his tail. He always neglected to clean it on a regular basis, so he was usually dragged to the bathroom kicking and screaming by Beel and Asmo. One to clean his tail and one to make sure he didn't run away. He can and will escape and trail soapy water all over the house. He thought it was too much work to really scrub his tail and clean all the matted fur, but he also thought Asmo was too rough with it. He had just gotten done with a shower, and had avoided washing his tail yet again. He hadn't even shifted into his demon form.

"Belphie, are you in there?" He heard a knock on the door and the voice of Mc.

"Yes." He hurriedly put on some pants as Mc swung open the door.

"I came to check on you." They sat next to Belphie and took the towel from his hands to begin toweling dry his hair. He sighed happily and leaned into the touch. "I also came to ask if you washing your tail and horns. Diavolo's party is tomorrow and it's better to do it now than right before when everyone will need the bathroom."

"You're buttering me up, aren't you?" He narrowed his eyes but didn't make an attempt to move.

"Does that mean you didn't?" They moved his hair away from his eyes so they could look at him directly. He averted his gaze. "If you're not going to wash it, I am."

"Do it then." He flopped over on their lap.

"You know I can't lift you. Come with me before I call Beel or Mammon. You know they'll just throw you into the water." He groaned but got up and followed Mc out of the room. He dramatically sat on the edge of the tub as Mc began to fill it up. "What happens if someone summons you and your tail is a big, matted mess?"

"That won't happen. The only person that I would let summon me is you." He found the words slipping out. Mc didn't seem to know how to respond, so they just muttered a surprised thank you.

"You don't have to get fully undressed if you don't want to. I just need to wash your tail and horns." Despite this, he took his pants back off since he didn't have much on to begin with, shifting into his demon form. Like they had said, he really didn't have to, but something in him wanted the most skin on skin contact he could get with his beloved Mc. He noticed Mc's demeanor change. They wouldn't look him in the eye and catching their hand made him realize it was clammy. He thought it was cute that they were nervous, and decided to tease them. He noticed their eyes following the cow like spots the cover the majority of his right side, and promptly looked away once they noticed the trail leading into his boxers. While they were checking to make sure the water was warm and placing his tail into the water, he pulled him into his lap, looking at them eye to eye.

"You wanted to clean me right? So, get cleaning." He looked at Mc deviously, enjoying their reddening face. He placed a washcloth in their hand so they could scrub his horns. He just looked at them until they eventually began to move. They cleaned each ridge carefully, following the spiral pattern. He basked in the attention, watching them carefully.

It was very therapeutic. It was miserable when anyone else did it, but he liked it when Mc did it. His horns didn't get nearly as dirty as his tail did, but the amount of effort and detail they put into cleaning them was sweet. It made him happy, in a way. They had this cute concentrated face. Their hands and wrists brushed against his face occasionally, which made him feel some kind of way that he just couldn't place. He became hyper aware of everyone their skin made contact. Damn you, Mc. Why did you have to wear shorts? Their thighs were pressed against his. He tried really hard to convince himself he hated humans, and what he was feeling wasn't him falling in love, but this was the nail in the coffin. He was down bad. He placed his hands on their back and pulled them in closer. When they were finished cleaning his horns, the gaze exchanged was electric, charged with lots of unspoken emotions.

It got better when they went to wash his tail. They pressed their whole body against his to reach his tail since he poutly refused to let them go. They scrubbed it just enough to get the dirty free but gentle enough to keep the feeling pleasant. He liked getting to rest his head on top of theirs. He was definitely in love with them. Maybe he would have to get out in his demon form more.

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