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theemporium · 3 months

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[4.1k] as promised, jack throws luke a belated birthday party before the season kicks off. except, luke gets more surprises than he bargained for. (smut)

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“I don’t get why we have to do this.”

“I’m just following instructions.”

“I already know Jack is throwing a party, there is no surprise.”

“I know. You have said it thirteen times since we left the apartment.”

Luke shot the older defenceman a look, his face blank and unimpressed. It had been bad enough that Jack had barged into his room at an ungodly hour on their off day, rambling away so fast that it took Luke a few minutes to even realise what he was saying. He had clothes thrown at his face and told he had fifteen minutes to get out of the house before he was dragged out.

He was only mildly surprised to find John waiting outside their apartment complex, two coffees held in his hands and looking just as thrilled as Luke to be awake so early. And just like Luke, he had been given close to no instructions on what to do, other than keep Luke out of their apartment until everything was ready.

Whenever that would be.

“I don’t get why we couldn’t just hang out at yours.” Luke said, leaning back against the hood of the car as he shovelled the ice cream around the small tub he was holding. “Or why he demanded I spend the day acting like a seven year old.”

“To say goodbye to your youth before you turn twenty,” John replied.

Luke frowned. “I’m already twenty.”

“Semantics,” John shrugged.

Luke stared at his teammate for a few moments, letting the silence envelope them. He got along well with John, probably better than some of the older teammates. He didn’t want to say it to anyone else—like Jack or Quinn or his parents—but it was a little intimidating. He wasn’t the youngest guy in the team, and he knew he had others his age. But sometimes, the older defenceman were just…a little intense.

He knew they meant well. He knew they only wanted to help and guide. But it was hard to believe the words they were saying when it was still pre-season, when Luke still felt like he had to prove himself on the ice, even after playoffs.

But John was a nice middle. He wasn’t old but he was experienced. He understood it a little better than some of the others. Luke might have even gone as far to say that John had been the closest thing to an actual friend that he felt on the team, like somebody he thinks would genuinely hang out with him outside of team hangouts and post-game pub crawls.

Luke’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at the older boy. “Do you know what Jack is planning?”

He could see the beginnings of a smirk tugging on John’s lips.

Luke pointed his little spoon in accusation. “You do!”

“Eat your ice cream, Luke.”

“Surely I get birthday boy privileges or something.”

John’s face broke out into a full blown grin. “Thought you were already twenty? Not technically the birthday boy then, are you?”

Luke only rolled his eyes as the boy beside him cackled, but there was the makings of a smile on his face too.

…

He had made the mistake of underestimating a Jack Hughes’ party.

Luke knew what his brother was like. He knew how his mind worked and how he thought and how he acted. He knew just what certain words and phrases really meant. He knew the kinds of tricks Jack tended to have up his sleeve.

He had ranted to John about as much all day. He had warned you about the same.

He was fully equipped to be prepared with whatever was on the other side of the door.

And yet, Luke still found himself standing frozen in shock when he opened the apartment door to so many fucking people screaming happy birthday at him. More people than he ever considered possibly fitting into their apartment.

Every surface had more bottles of alcohol on them than he could count, there were balloons and other decorations taped to the wall, and he was pretty sure he saw a fucking keg hidden amongst the crowd.

It was the most Jack Hughes kind of thing to throw him a party that resembled a frat party, more than a fucking birthday party. He shouldn’t have been surprised and he still was because, honestly, he didn’t think it would be much bigger than the team and their partners and some extra friends.

Luke didn’t think he knew half the people in his house right now. Maybe more than half.

And still, staring at the large group of people, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over the crowd as if he would be able to spot you in seconds.

But he couldn’t.

Instead, Jack was dragging him into the apartment with a shove and a big smile. He had a drink pushed into his hands seconds later, more people wishing him a happy birthday and the overwhelming realisation that his social butterfly brother was going to drag him around to meet every single stranger currently in his house.

And as much as he wanted to claim it was horrible—and it kind of was, socially—Jack undoubtedly knew how to throw a great party.

He was in the middle of listening to some retelling of a goal from a game that Luke didn’t even care about when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He glanced around him, everyone far too focused on the storytelling before he slipped his phone out. He wished he was embarrassed with the way his smile grew when he saw it was from you.

cherry🍒: which room is yours?

cherry🍒: please answer quick before i break into your brother’s room

Luke pressed his lips together, trying to resist the urge to smile or laugh.

hockey boy: is there a reason you’re trying to sneak into my room?

It didn’t even take a few seconds after he pressed send for you to respond.

cherry🍒: stop being a smart ass and tell me which one

cherry🍒: otherwise i guess jack gets your present

And it was stupid, really. He didn’t know what you got him. It could be a card for all he knew, and he would be grateful for it regardless. But still, something about the implication of your words made his cheeks flush in response.

And something quite possessive bubbled in his chest at the idea of anyone else being in his position.

It was his gift, after all. He had every right to feel possessive over it. Or, at least, that was what he told himself as he quickly responded.

hockey boy: second door on the left

He watched the bubbles appear on his screen, let the seconds pass painfully until your message came through.

cherry🍒: come and get your present, birthday boy ;)

He stared at the text for a lot longer than he cared to admit before he was snapped out of his thoughts, feeling someone’s pointy elbow digging into his side. His head snapped up, finding Jesper staring at him with a slightly concerned look.

“You good? Your face has gone red.”

He could almost feel his cheeks burn hotter in response.

“Uh, yeah,” Luke cleared his throat and gave the older boy a slightly strained smile. “I must’ve drank a little more than I expected. I’m just gonna go splash my face and I’ll be back.”

Jesper’s brows furrowed together. “You sure? I can go get Jack—”

“No, no,” Luke quickly reassured him, giving his shoulder a small pat and squeeze before he took a step away from the crowd. “Promise I’m all good. Just need to freshen up.”

Jesper didn’t look convinced but Luke didn’t give him much time to say anything else before he rushed off.

He kept his head down, trying to avoid eye contact and getting dragged into conversations as best as he could. He gave polite smiles when he could, pushing through the crowd of people without a second thought before he made it to the corridor that led off to the bedrooms.

It was quieter, which was expected with most of the guests in the main communal areas but Luke didn’t give much thought to them or anything else as he made a beeline for his room.

His heart was thundering in his chest as he reached for the door, quickly sliding inside and shutting the door with a heavy sigh before he finally turned around. He leaned back against the door, taking in the sight of you casually sitting on his bed like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Maybe because, for some reason that was beyond his own understanding, it was.

You sitting on his bed, leaning back against your hands as you grinned at him. Your white dress was a stark contrast against his navy blue sheets, resting around mid-thigh and it drove him crazy. Almost as crazy as the cherry red lipstick did.

“Happy birthday, Hughes.”

His nose scrunched. “You can’t call me that when my brother is under the same roof.”

You snorted. “Aw, you know you’re my favourite.”

Luke didn’t bite back his smile this time. “Is that my birthday present?”

You grinned back, patting the spot on the bed next to you. “Why don’t you come find out?”

He barely had a chance to sit on the bed before your hands were on him, fingers lightly tugging on his curls as you pressed a smacking kiss onto his cheek with a cheesy grin.

“Happy birthday, Luke.”

He huffed out a laugh, turning to look at you with an elated expression. “Thanks, Cherry,” he murmured, almost shyly as your fingers remained in his hair, playing with his curls like it was instinctive. “How are you enjoying the party?”

Your lips twitched upwards. “Your brother sure would’ve made a great frat boy.”

“It’s his true calling,” Luke joked.

“And you’re a popular boy,” you commented.

His cheeks flushed. “Oh no…I…I don’t know half of them, to be honest. Maybe even more than that.”

Something glinted in your eyes and you smiled at him. “So I’m one of the lucky few people who actually know the birthday boy?”

He swallowed. “One of the few, yeah.”

“I’m honoured,” you hummed, tilting your head to the side. “I’m guessing you won’t be missed if I keep you up here for a bit, then?”

He blinked, staring at you for a few seconds before he remembered he had to respond. “Uh, yeah, no. We can…we can stay here for a bit. Or a while. Or however long you want.”

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Good. Get comfortable.”

His eyes widened a little. “Huh?”

“Get comfortable, Luke,” you repeated, something quite like pride blooming in your chest as you watched his face blush in response. “Need to give you your birthday present.”

“Oh,” he murmured before he realised. “Oh! Right, I—”

Luke glanced at you for a second, seeing if you were going to give him any hint on what was happening but you just smiled at him. He cleared his throat, almost embarrassed by the way his dick twitched in response before he shuffled back onto the bed until his back was pressed against the headboard.

“Is this okay?”

“Perfect, baby, always so perfect for me,” you murmured, not wasting any time as you began to crawl towards him.

He gulped a little, watching you like he was completely entranced. He expected you to swing your leg over his lap, to feel your thighs on either side of him as you settled yourself on him. He waited for you to be close enough before he could reach out, before he could pull you closer. He itched to have his hands on you.

But you crawled until you were kneeling beside him, your knees brushing against his thigh and hand on his stomach—but it still didn’t feel close enough for his liking.

Yet, when he opened his mouth to speak, you were already leaning forward to kiss him.

The way he moaned in relief the second he felt your lips on his was almost pathetic, but Luke couldn’t bring himself to care. You shifted in your spot before your free hand cupped his cheek, guiding his head so you could deepen the kiss with a swipe of your tongue against his lips.

He parted his lips with no hesitation.

“Hm, good boy,” you hummed, your breath tickling against his lips and it made his cock strain in his jeans.

“Always for you,” he responded, almost like it was instinctive. It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up, for his body to flush in realisation.

But he could feel your smile widen against his lips and it made it worth it.

You pulled back, panting softly as your hooded eyes took him in. Your gaze glanced over every inch of his face before they lingered on his lips. Your eyes darkened and your lips twitched as your hand moved to cup his jaw, to let your thumb slowly swipe over his lips.

“Cherry red looks good on you, baby,” you commented, and it was only then he noticed how smudged your own lipstick looked.

“Might give you a run for your money,” he retorted, his voice a little lower and rougher than it was moments ago.

“Hm, I bet you could.”

He gulped a little, the blood roaring in his ears as he felt the anticipation of your next move crackle under his skin like lightning waiting to strike. He watched you closely like he was scared to miss something, like this would all end if he looked away.

“Relax, Luke,” you said in a softer voice, the hand on his stomach lightly fisting the material of his shirt. “You trust me, right?”

He nodded.

“And you’ll tell me if you wanna stop?”

He nodded again.

“Good,” you murmured before you were leaning in again. “Then sit back and enjoy your present, birthday boy.”

And every other coherent thought Luke had in his brain went completely out the window as you leaned in to kiss him again.

There was the distant thumping bass sounding from the main room that made him feel like he was back to the party just over a month ago. When he was in the small bathroom with you, feeling just as hot and flushed as he did now but for very different reasons. And if he didn’t have your tongue in his mouth, he was sure he would have appreciated how poetic it all felt.

But he really, really couldn’t bring his brain to do anything except focus on you, you, you.

A needy noise sounded from the back of his throat as your hand on his stomach travelled downwards, as the heel of your palm pushed against the bulge in his jeans.

“So responsive,” you murmured between kisses as you continued to palm him over his jeans.

He felt breathless, his brain feeling fuzzy and his body feeling overwhelmed as he desperately tried to keep up with you, to kiss you back, to not buck his hips like he desperately wanted to do.

“This okay?”

He sighed, nodding his head.

You hand paused, and he almost whined in response, before your fingers paused at the button of his jeans. “Still okay?”

He nodded again.

“Words, baby. I know you can use them for me.”

“Yeah, still okay,” he managed to get out between gritted teeth, almost sounding wounded as he felt your fingers circle his button before slowly popping it undone. He let out a staggered, heavy breath as your hand slid into his jeans, until the warmth of your palm squeezed his cock over his boxers. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shhh, can’t be too loud, baby,” you murmured, watching the way his head slumped back against the headboard with a thump. “Not when they can hear you.”

“There’s music,” he defended weakly, his eyes fluttering shut as you slowly began to stroke his clothed cock.

“Your pretty noises are louder,” you teased, unable to help yourself as you leaned forward to press a kiss to the hollow of his neck. “Help me get these off, yeah?”

Luke could only find it within himself to nod and lift his hips to help shuffle the fabric of his jeans and boxers to pool just above his knees. “Please.”

“No need to beg this time,” you assured the boy, pressing another kiss just under his jaw. “Gonna give the birthday boy what he wants.”

He blinked his eyes open, expecting to find you staring back at him. Instead, your focus was on his exposed dick, resting against his stomach. He swallowed a little, suddenly self-conscious and painfully aware that despite the amount of times you had made him come, this was the first time he had ever…well…it was the first time you had ever seen his dick.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Nothing except a noise mixed between a moan and a whimper as your thumb traced over the slit on his head.

“Pretty boy, pretty cock,” you commented casually, like your thumb wasn’t spreading the small beads of precome over the head of his cock.

“Cherry,” he breathed out, fighting the urge to clench his eyes shut. “Fuck. Please.”

“I like when you say my name like that,” you confessed, turning to look at his flushed cheeks and glossy eyes that were already staring back at you. You never once looked away from him as you raised your thumb to your mouth, wrapping your lips around it.

He gritted his teeth together. “Shit.”

The eye contact remained as you licked the palm of your hand before reaching down to stroke his cock again, no layers of fabric acting as a barrier anymore. Just your warm, wet palm slowly pumping the length of his hard cock, in his fucking bedroom when a whole party of guests celebrating him were just god-knows how many feet away.

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned out, slumping back against the headboard again as you continued to stroke his cock. His eyes fluttered shut as a small voice in the back of his head muttered about how much better it felt when it wasn’t his own hand.

“That’s it, baby, just sit back and enjoy,” you whispered, closing the distance between your lips and his neck once again. Your breath tickled along the column of his neck, sending small shivers through his body as he tried not to twitch his hips.

“Feels good,” he managed to blurt out.

He could feel your smile against his skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded hopelessly, his hands fisting the duvet on either side of him. “So good.”

“Hm,” you hummed in amusement, your teeth lightly nipping a spot just before his ear. “You gonna last long, baby?”

He shook his head, whimpering.

“Gonna be a good boy and come for me?”

He nodded without a second of hesitation.

And then he felt your lips against his ear, your breath warm and your voice sultry as you whispered, “then come for me, Luke.”

And he fucking shattered.

White, hot pleasure exploded through him. He could feel it in every nerve in his body, from the tip of his fingers to the end of his toes. He could feel the rush down his spine, the spots dotting his vision as he tried to ground his bearings. He could feel his cock twitching in your palm as he came, as ropes of his come exploded over your hand and his thighs and stomach.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, chest heaving with soft pants as he took a few moments before he turned his head to look at you.

“Like your birthday present?” You asked with an innocent smile.

Luke snorted, not replying as he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. It felt like the natural response and you didn’t seem to push him away.

When he pulled back, he reached for a box of tissues and handed you a few to clean yourself up whilst he did the same. It was only thirty seconds of silence before he opened his mouth to say something, his brain still fuzzy and the oddest urge to say ‘thank you’ on the tip of his tongue when he heard familiar voices on the other side of his door.

“Nah, I swear Jack said his room was to the right.”

“He said left, dipshit.”

“No, he definitely said right.”

Luke’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you, a sudden burst of adrenaline and panic ridding him of whatever post-orgasm brain fog he was experiencing seconds ago. “Get under the bed.”

You blinked. “What—”

“Get under the bed now,” Luke hissed as he quickly scrambled to pull his boxers and jeans up.

You listened to him, despite his confusion, as you quickly slid off his bed and crawled underneath the frame. You disappeared just as the door to his room burst open and Luke was met with three very familiar faces grinning at him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUKEY!”

Despite hearing their voices, the shock of seeing three of his closest friends didn’t hit him until they were standing right in front of him. His heart was still thundering in his chest and his brain still felt a little delayed, but the smile on his face was genuine as he took in the sight of Mark, Ethan and Rutger.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Luke retorted, shuffling off his bed. He contemplated hugging them before remembering what had just occurred seconds ago and thought better of it.

“You really think we were gonna miss your birthday?” Ethan asked with a scoff.

“I mean, it was a few weeks ago…”

Rutger lightly punched his arm. “Don’t be a dick, we just flew from Michigan to be here.”

Luke raised his brows in surprise. “You did?”

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, bud,” Mark replied, a softer smile on his face. “You may have hit the big leagues but you can’t get rid of us.”

He swallowed back the lump in his throat, an odd pang of homesickness in his heart craving to be a college student in Michigan once again. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I think the better question is why the fuck you are hiding at your own party,” Ethan spoke up, slapping his arm around Luke’s shoulders before he began guiding him to the door. “Your brother splurged on a shit ton of booze downstairs, we should be taking advantage of that.”

“And kicking their asses in beer pong,” Mark added with a grin.

“Let’s fucking go!” Rutger whooped, already the first one out the door with the expectation of the others to follow.

“Gonna embarrass them all,” Ethan grinned, turning his head to look at Luke before he frowned a little. “Hey, what’s that on your neck?”

Luke’s eyes widened as his hand instantly came up to his neck, as though he would be able to feel the lipstick staining his skin. “Uh…it’s…a rash.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed together. “Damn, really? It kinda looks—”

“Are you two coming or what?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “We’re coming!”

“Hurry up or Mark’s my partner in beer pong!”

Ethan scoffed, his mouth parting in offence. “Absolutely not—”

Luke didn’t get much of a chance to say anything else before Ethan and the others all but dragged him back into the party. The guilt of leaving you in his room swirled inside him, but he waited until the boys were distracted before he managed to slip his phone out of his pocket.

hockey boy: i am so sorry about that

hockey boy: i didn’t mean to leave you like that

hockey boy: i feel like a dickhead

His lip was tucked between his teeth as the typing bubbles appeared.

cherry🍒: don’t worry about it, luke

cherry🍒: have fun with your friends

cherry🍒: hope you liked your birthday present ;)

His cheeks burned but he grinned down at his phone.

hockey boy: don’t think anything can top it

He paused for a few moments, glancing up to find his friends still lost in some debate on who was gaining Mark as their beer pong partner before his focus shifted back to his phone. With some lingering confidence and the shots Ethan made him do as soon as they left his room in his system, he found himself typing and hitting send before he could over think it all.

hockey boy: next time i get to make you come

hockey boy: it’s only fair

Luke watched as your response came in soon after.

cherry🍒: maybe you can show me how good you really are with those hands of yours

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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kaziwi · 10 months

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one piece boys reaction to a f!reader who cries whenever she is angry (include whoever you want, but put Law, Zoro and Sanji please)

agagagaga i love requests like these <3 sorry it’s a bit long but i hope you enjoy!!

Character(s): Law, Zoro, Sanji

WC: 1,460

Reader Who Cries When Angry

Law

It was just a simple misunderstanding...why did you get so frustrated???

No. It wasn't your fault...it was HIS

Your boyfriend, Law, had asked that you accompany him on exploring the newest island, YOU, like only and specifically you

Of COURSE you thought this was a date kinda thing because it had been like 100000 years since Law had taken you out and omgomgomg you were so excited

You had put on a little bit extra makeup and did your hair nicer as you met Law on the docks

"You look nice," he commented. You screamed and did a little dance in your head but put on a calm smile for him

It seemed Law had made up his mind on where you two were going because instead of heading to town, you were both trudging up a hill in the middle of the woods

Maybe he was bringing you to a flower field....OR maybe he was going to give you a big old kiss under a cherry blossom tree

Ok maybe you were a bit ahead of yourself...but you couldn't help but wonder???

Then Law abruptly stopped in front of you and crouched down over a bush. You decided to repeat his actions to find out what he was staring at. There were small berries in the bush, all with different colors and sizes.

He opened his bag and pulled out a notebook and pen and handed it to you.

"Write as I talk," he commanded, and who were you to disobey your captain.

Law went on for what seemed like forever about these berries and described them all in detail. You wrote down as much as you could till your hand started to cramp, but thank god by then he was basically over.

He mumbled a small thank you as he took the notebook back, quickly revised the notes you had taken, and stood back up.

"Alright lets head back"

What...did he mean...head back...

WHERE WERE THE FLOWERS AND THE KISSES?????

"Law...." you asked calmly, "what are we doing out here?"

Law looked at you a little funny and said, "Well I read that these berries are only found on this island. I read about their different properties and wanted to see them for myself."

"And why did you choose me of all people to come out here with you..?"

"Well you have the neatest handwriting."

That had done it.

You wanted to scream and yell and make angry hand gestures at him....but all you could do was cry

It was like a dam broke and you just couldn't stop

Law looked more confused than he had ever looked in his life...then rushed over to you like the good boyfriend he SHOULD HAVE BEEN

Law continued to ask what was wrong...but all you could do was cry

When you FINALLY calmed down...you explained to him that you thought this was a date...and were ANGRY at him for not making it one

Lets just say this story ends with Law buying you icecream and giving you a million kisses mwah mwah

Zoro

In his defense he had no clue you were gonna start crying

He just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine

You always LOVED to prank him along with Luffy and Usopp

None of those pranks were CRAZY...just little silly tricks like banana peals on the floor to slip on or throwing water balloons at him...but either way they annoyed him

SOMEHOW he thought of the genius idea to prank you back...

Though Zoro's definition of a prank IS NOT what you'd think it was.....

The crew had just arrived on a new island and everyone went their separate ways to explore

Zoro had insisted that you and him take a walk in the woods, and even though you were against it since he ALWAYS gets lost…you reluctantly followed along…

Zoro had the perfect plan in his head….he was going to walk ahead…hide behind some some trees..and then SCARE YOU (he’s not the most creative with these things)

He had suddenly ran ahead..saying that he spotted something and leaving you alone

He SWORE he only ran only a minute or two ahead, just enough where he could wait and hide…

But that was an hour ago…and Zoro was waiting FOREVER..till he heard you..

SOMEHOW in running 2 minutes ahead he got himself lost

So there you were frantically calling his name while the sun quickly set

You really REALLY didn’t wanna be out here in the dark looking for him… and the creepy forest sounds did not help

A small rustle caught you attention..so you walked closer to the sound…till ZORO in all his glory jumped out of the tree and yelled boo

You were so startled that you fell back and hit the forest floor..while Zoro started CACKLING

You were tired…scared…hungry…and PISSED

As much as you wanted to scream your head off at him and punch him 10000 times…all you could do was start to cry

He stopped laughing as soon as he heard your sobs and felt frozen when he saw you crying

He never cried when you pulled tricks on him..SO WHY WERE YOU??????

“WHY ARE YOU CRYING,” he yelled, meaning it to come off more comforting

“CAUSE YOU SCARED ME,” you yelled back while still crying

After some back and fourth yelling..Zoro admitted he was wrong..but SWORE he didn’t get lost..you did

And you were so gonna prank him back for this one

Sanji

Now Sanji RARELY ever made you mad

You always laughed when you heard people complaining about their partners because your boyfriend was just perfect

Though one thing did kinda piss you off….his flirting

Now don’t get it confused you LOVED when he flirted with you…but it was the flirting with every woman he saw that bugged you

Usually you brushed it off and reminded yourself that he loved you more…but this time was different

You were helping him pick supplies at an island you stopped at, a usual job between the two of you

Though your palette wasn't as refined as Sanji's, you still were good at picking what food was best for the crew

Sanji had spotted a stand in the market with fruits native to the island, which were apparently very rare

He looked like a kid in a candy store while talking to you about the fruits, and all was well UNTIL the shop vendor came over

Now this girl was GEORGOUS like looked like Boa Hancock your jaw dropped when you saw her....and so did Sanji's...

Immediately he showered her with compliments and praises, just the usual....but instead of turning him down like the usual girls do...she flirted back...

Whatever...who cares...I mean it was bound to happen soon...but surely Sanji wouldn't take it too far...

You honestly didn't care too much...only a little jealous...TILL SHE INVITED HIM TO HER HOUSE

The vendor basically had said that she would show Sanji some of her new recipes that she made with the fruit and would love to talk about technique....IN HER HOUSE

Why couldn't they just do that here??? and even better why don't they just end the conversation now!!

Deep down you BELIEVED in your boyfriend and knew he wouldn't accept the invitation....until he did

A quick kiss on your forehead and a quick goodbye he left with the vendor and started to walk to her house...

What. Just. Happened.

So first he leaves you to hangout with this RANDOM lady...AND THEN LEAVES YOU TO FINISH THE SHOPPPING

It was later in the evening when he came back to the Sunny...a new recipe book in tow

He was excited to show it off to you, and was happy to hear that you finished the shopping for him!!

Sanji found you in the kitchen, putting away the food in the pantry

"Y/N!! Look at this amazing new recipe book I got from that vendor, you'd love this one-"

He looked up from his rant to notice that you were crying...

Sanji dropped the book and ran to you, begging you to tell him what was wrong

You wanted to stay silent and angry at him, but the tears kept pouring out and you just wanted him to hold you

You told him how upset his flirting made you and how him leaving with the other woman made you furious

He immediately apologized and honestly didn't stop for the rest of the night

He swore to you that he would tune down the flirting and that he would bring all his attention to you

And he kept that promise well, minimalizing the complements towards other women, even dialing it down around Nami and Robin

He truly was sorry and vowed to himself to never make you cry again

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moonstruckme · 2 days

Note

hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?

Thank you for requesting!

cw: insecurity around breast size

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to.

Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment.

“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?”

You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas.

“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—”

The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.”

Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks.

Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse.

“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?”

You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly.

“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.”

Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful.

“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?”

You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.”

“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.”

A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo.

“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?”

“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in.

He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you.

You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact.

“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice.

Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur.

He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises.

You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons.

It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed.

“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”

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malegains · 6 months

Text

So I think a lot of Bing driven AI blogs have fallen off since the NSFW filter went super strict for about 48 hours about nine days ago. Even though it relaxed again, the landscape it left behind was very different. Old tricks didn’t work anymore. But new tricks can be discovered and exploited, and the last few days I’ve been getting my sexiest and most extreme results ever. All the stuff I’ve posted in the las six days has been newly made, not backlog (my backlog is enormous… will I ever clear it? Probably not)

In the interest of community and education, here is an example.

These four images were the result of one submission of one prompt - I didn’t have to wrestle the machine for them at all. The prompt is:

underexposed Polaroid, side view from far away, two Icelandic bodybuilding bros facing each other submerged near a hot spring, enormously muscular, golden light, loving embrace, buzzed blond hair, relaxed, unbelievably enormous muscles, muscle morph, leg muscles like enormous heavy water balloons, enormous muscular arms, high body fat, leaning against each other

Now be warned, this is a bit of a jenga tower. Moving things around too much may break it. I’d recommend writing your own from scratch but stealing specific key phrases, modifying and evolving those, see what works best for you.

Thanks to @thespacewerewolf for the “near a hot spring” trick to get them into a hot spring, and to @zangtangimpersonator for the water balloon / weather balloon comparison trick, which is a Swiss Army knife of a prompt for anyone who likes big round shapes.

This is why I unpinned my old tutorial. The spirit is the same - think of twisty ways to ask for what you want, certain scenario seem way more permissive than others, throwing in random details seems to help, etc etc etc. But the specifics have changed, and the sample prompts I built in a couple old tutorial posts won’t really work now as they did then. Keep evolving your prompts, experimenting, and sharing what works for you.

#ai muscle #male muscle growth #ai muscle growth #muscle #musclegrowth #muscle romance #ai muscle tutorial #ai tutorial

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infinitystoner · 1 year

Text

An Interesting Theory

Masterlist

Summary: In which you teach Loki about a Midgardian party trick but learn it’s not so easy to one up the God of Mischief. Pairing: Loki x GN!Reader Word count: 1.1K Tags/Content: Mentions of Alcohol, Sexual Tension, Shenanigans, Flirting, Fluff Author’s note: For the darling @lunarnights95, inspired by this prompt.

“What a week, huh?” Bruce removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes as he leaned over the bar. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Steve. But this has been a lot.”

“Well, to his credit, it’s not every day you turn 105,” you quipped, popping a maraschino cherry in your mouth as you spun on your stool, studying the dwindling party. It was the last unofficial fete tacked on to the end of a week full of jubilant celebrations for the Captain. You and the rest of the team had barely gotten a moment’s rest until now.

Twenty or so people were still gathered in the sunken lounge area of Tony’s penthouse, overlooking the glittering expanse of Manhattan. Most partygoers had taken their leave as the commemorative fireworks over the East River came to an end – now only the Avengers and a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents remained.

Your eyes swept around the room and landed on Thor and Steve. They stood together behind the sofas, arms crossed and gazes fixed on Tony as he attempted to lift Mjölnir from the coffee table. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes – the three of them seemed to be locked in a never-ending pissing contest. Raucous laughter filled the room as Tony let out a string of curses, his face twisted in concentration, muscles bulging as he put forth all his strength. Usually, Loki would be whispering a witty comment or snide remark in your ear regarding the situation, but he was nowhere to be found. In fact, you hadn’t seen him for hours.

The thought lingered in your mind for only a moment before a piercing pop! sent your heart into overdrive. Just as you prepared yourself for fight mode, you realized Sam had accidentally stepped on one of the balloons littering the floor as he navigated an elderly man through the space.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bruce sighed, wiping up the beer he’d tipped over in shock.

“Got ‘em!” the old man exclaimed as he passed by, casting you a devilish wink that made him suddenly appear years younger. What a handful he must’ve been back in his day, you thought. Hell, considering the trouble he kept giving Sam, he still was.

“Sorry, sorry!” the Falcon laughed as he tightened his grip on the bumbling veteran. “He just had to try some of that damn magic mead.”

You let out a chuckle before turning your attention back to Bruce. You were about to ask for a refill when you sensed an omnipotent presence beside you: Loki, leaning casually against the bar, his signature smirk on his lips, eyes sparking with amusement as he watched an exasperated Sam wrangle the old codger onto the elevator.

“Well, well,” he mused, dipping his head in greeting as he settled on the stool next to you. “At least someone at this soiree seems worthy of Asgardian revelry.”

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’ve gotten into the mead, too,” you teased.

He lifted an eyebrow, the hint of a grin still playing at the corner of his mouth. “Me, let my guard down in the presence of these mortals? Perish the thought,” he scoffed, but you could see a glint of mischief in his gaze as he glanced over your shoulder. “I’m just here for the entertainment.”

You turned, noting that Tony had finally given up his quest to lift that damn hammer. Shaking your head, you popped another cherry in your mouth. “I’m afraid you missed out on quite a show.”

“Ah, yes. The ever-present contest of ego.” Loki puffed out a laugh. “But that’s hardly what I meant, darling.”

His knee brushed against yours as he turned towards you, your heart thumping wildly against your chest as his hand lingered on your leg. Loki leaned closer, his breath ghosting over your cheek.

“You know, no one has ever made such a fuss over my or Thor’s birthday,” he continued, feigning a pout. “And we’re centuries older than Rogers.”

“Only the best for America’s sweetheart,” you commented, trying to maintain some sense of composure as Loki’s thumb began to stroke your inner thigh. The thrill of his touch sent goosebumps along your skin. “Besides, I thought you said you didn’t celebrate birthdays?”

“We don’t.” His eyes sparkled. “It doesn’t mean we wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment.”

“Last call,” Bruce interrupted, refilling your drink before popping the top off a fresh bottle of beer for himself. “Can I get you anything, Loki?”

“No, thank you, Banner,” he replied, never breaking eye contact with you as he took a sip from a glass of wine that you could’ve sworn didn’t exist moments before. You ignored the look Bruce cast in your direction before exiting the bar.

“What is this?” Loki asked curiously, setting down his goblet and picking up one of the cherry stems you’d crafted into a knot.

“Oh, that? It’s just a party trick. They say if you can tie a cherry stem with your tongue, it means you’re a good kisser.”

Loki quirked a brow. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel like you were the only person in the room – in the realm, even. “Tell me, have you found this to be true?”

“Well, I’ve never gotten any complaints,” you laughed, a heat creeping across your cheeks as Loki’s thumb traced circles along your knee. “But come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone else who can do it.”

Loki held the knot between his thumb and forefinger, studying it for a moment before he spoke again. “What an interesting theory...”

You watched in awe as he delicately plucked two stems from the bowl of cherries, bringing them to his lips with a sly grin. Your breath caught in your throat as you silently observed the seductive way his strong jaw moved, the muscles below his cheek flexing with perfect precision.

After a few moments, Loki parted his lips, slowly revealing a perfect little bow. He placed the twisted stems on the bar, turning to look at you with an air of satisfaction.

“Shall we put your theory to the test, then?”

The suggestive tone in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, the heat in your cheeks spreading throughout your entire body. As you opened your mouth to respond, Loki leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. The sweet taste of wine lingering on his tongue was almost too much to bear, and you found yourself melting into him.

The kiss was soft yet electric, sending waves of pleasure through your body and leaving you breathless. When you finally parted, Loki snickered, quite pleased with himself.

“I do love to be right,” he purred, his lips brushing against your ear as he took your hand and guided you away from the bar. “But I think some further experimentation might be necessary to confirm our hypothesis.”

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#loki drabble #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x gn!reader #loki imagine

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attapullman · 7 months

Text

That Abbott Boy | Rhett Abbott

GIF by delopsia

Summary: You and Rhett have stayed in each other's orbit since you were children. But what if there's something more than just friends?

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings & Notes: Rhett Abbott x f!reader, brief mentions of underage drinking and violence, fluffy and angsty (?), childhood friends, Rhett's the town whore and likes boobs, bad mouthin' Perry Abbott, destruction of pinatas, 18+ as always. Happy Halloween, witches! You can play your tricks, but here's your treat!

Children flooded the barn, your daddy’s ranch overtaken by sugar-hyped little hands and giggles as your classmates pet the horses and pretend to drink from the trough. Set up outside were balloons and presents, marking the momentous occasion of your birthday. The sun shines bright upon your cheeks as another year blesses you.

Your ma wrangles the hyperactive group and announces the piñata. A cheap, store-bought thing, meant to resemble a puppy dog but failing. Your classmates scramble to line up, eager to be the one who breaks open the winnings of more sugar. And as you turn to lead the battle, you see that Abbott boy.

Rhett. Cerulean eyes hidden under his baseball cap. That thin smile that says more than his mouth ever does. With only a decade of life under his belt, he comes across like there’s more layers to him than anyone could know. He’s affectionately stroking his hand along the nose of your mare, soothing her after too many grabby fingers. Too distracted by his care to notice everyone else has left the barn.

“You coming?” Your voice is small in the old building. His gaze snaps to you from his thoughts, running his hand along the horse’s flank before following you outside. You’re accurately aware of him trailing behind you. His heavy footfalls into the dusty ground. A dusty rose spreading along his cheeks when your eyes accidentally meet.

Joining the group and taking your rightful place at the front of the line, your ma wraps a bandana around your eyes and twists you twice. Orientation lost as hands straighten your shoulders toward the misshapen papier mâche. The burden of embarrassing yourself overwhelms your small frame, but you swing with purpose. You’re the birthday girl and you will knock it down!

Swing one. Miss. Swing two. Miss. Swing three. Miss.

Rules dictate your turn is over and you hand the blindfold and bat over to the next child in line. Swing. Miss. Swing. Hit. It’s a compilation of hits and misses as the line dwindles. Next to bat is Rhett. You give him a small smile as he steps up. He takes the wood between his hands, shoulders squaring to the challenge as he runs his fists over the woodgrain. His eyes are focused, a boy with only one goal.

Swing one. Miss. Swing two. Miss. Swing three. Hit! A bit of paper dislodges from multiple blows and a few treats fall to the ground. The next kid in line holds their hand out expectantly for the bat. But that Abbott boy has other plans.

Thwack. Thwack. Two more hits directly to the piñata, splitting it and upending every sweet in its arsenal. Children flock to the ground as they pick up as many as possible. Rhett’s face is proud - the winner of the arbitrary game - and he bends to pick up a chocolate.

The kid not picking up candy? You. A slow heat rises from your chest and the tips of your ears flood a rosy color. How dare he cheat! On your birthday! Squaring your shoulders, your ma catches you quickly. She knows your temper. Gives you a shake of her head and advises you to spend your energy on other ventures.

“That Abbott boy is gonna be trouble, just you wait and see.”

_____________________________________________________________

The church is stifling, holding the hot July air hostage. Sunday best sticks to sweaty skin. Programs are used as makeshift fans to create a breeze. The preacher drones into the still air that threatens to choke the life from this joyous union.

How Perry Abbott found someone to marry him is beyond you. Aloof one moment, violent the next. You saw what he did to Trevor Tillerson at the skating rink all those years ago. His brother may be a piñata cheater, but Perry was actual bad news. This poor blonde woman must be missing some grey matter to think this was a good idea.

The preacher finally starts saying words you recognize (“Do you take this man…”) and the church doors open as Perry kisses his bride. The wash of fresh air clears your head and allows you to be happy for the couple. Love is in the air!

At the reception you mingle with a few girls from class. Only a year until you escape this hellhole. Wabang is nothing but girls turning into their God-fearing mothers and boys becoming their drunken cowboy fathers. Before you’ve hit drinking age most of them will be married, taking over their families homesteads and pushing out children. You’re not even eighteen and yet this is the dream floating through every classmates mind. Your skin crawls at the idea of settling down with someone like a Tillerson.

Food and dancing is outside - thankfully - and various members of the community are congratulating the newlyweds. Your own parents are wrapped in conversation with the sheriff and your neighbors. Land disputes are as frequent as phone bills here. A classmate asks if you’re going to the ol’ back roads that evening. Wink wink. You barely begin to answer her when a laugh carries over from the church, a group of high school boys leaning against the cracked siding, swigging from smuggled beers over quiet conversation.

You catch Rhett Abbott’s eye. He smirks back over the lip of his bottle, a twinkle in his eye. Good money could be bet that he’s been drinking since this damn service began. He draws the bottle away and holds a finger to his lips, his smile quirked to the right as he asks you to keep his secret. As if you’d ever tell.

His eye slips into a wink. God, he is such a flirt.

Since that fateful piñata day, you and Rhett have stayed in the same orbit. Although, while you’ve remained studios with your head down to ensure an easy exit from the town, he seems to always be mixed in something. Too many nights at the ol’ back roads, scrapes from roughhousing with friends, more than one girl making insinuations the next morning in the girls restroom. But that Abbott boy has always been good to you. A tip of his cap when he walks by you in town, feed sack in hand. That slow smile when he returns the pencil you dropped in class. Last fall the two of you had spent the afternoon sprawled in the sunshine behind the school, skipping out on government because the government can go fuck itself. And it was too nice a day to be cooped up in a concrete building.

Your friendship was easy. Rhett soothed the tension in your brain, that drawl of his like music as he went on about ranch work and dreams of riding bulls one day like his dad. You were going to miss him when you left.

Your head shakes to indicate silly boy and you return his naughty grin so he knows he’s still in your good graces. He turns back to the group, and you miss him looking back at you when you join your parents.

______________________________________________________________

Staring out from behind the curtain, you see your parents and other relatives of your family sat near the front of the audience. Holy hell, this is real.

You’ve been dreaming of high school graduation since the day Wabang lost its appeal. That printed diploma claiming that you paid your dues in this town and the world is your oyster now.

The dinky auditorium they held graduation in each year was filled with the sound of chairs scraping and families clapping each other on the back for their children’s newest accomplishment. Behind you, your graduating class is alive with nervous titters.

A hand slides across your waist, high enough to not raise question, and Rhett peeps his head next to yours. His newly grown stubble is neater than usual, and his curls are actually combed. You lift a hand to smooth the collar of the shirt that’s crumpled under his graduation robe. You’re so proud of him for making it here.

You follow his eyes and catch where his family is sitting. Royal and Cecelia both deep in conversation with their neighbors, Perry and his little family occupied in their own bubble. What’s the daughter’s name again? Ashley? Anna? Amy? You don’t worry too much, she’ll come up soon enough in conversation with Rhett. Not even two and she’s the center of their household. He adores her.

The two of you share a smile as you acknowledge the moment. So many of your shared dreams have centered around this day and what it means. Finally leaving this godforsaken town. His eyes twinkle with the promise of leaving his family behind. That Abbott boy is finally going to make his own path. You’re so fucking proud.

A microphone crackles. The ceremony is commencing. Rhett squeezes your hip excitedly before finding his spot at the front of the line. Let the beginning of your lives begin.

______________________________________________________________

The door squeaks open, letting a blast of icy air flood the bar. Patrons let out their individual noises of complaint. The Handsome Gambler fills with more bodies, huddling around booths as holiday greetings are exchanged. Yet another Christmas in Amelia County. You’ve avoided the town the last few years, but when your roommate’s parents took a last-minute cruise she begged you for a “traditional cowboy Christmas”. She had been disappointed that your parent’s ranch didn’t look out of a House Beautiful spread.

She’s delighted by The Handsome Gambler though. The “quaint” charm as sun-beaten men drink their Jameson and Rainier. You’ve already seen several people you know, raising your chin in hello.

But it’s the one face that hasn’t returned your greeting that plagues your mind. Sat beside a buckle bunny blonde who cannot keep her hands off his arms - Do you blame her? That ranch is doing everyone favors - and you can’t seem to catch his eye. You haven’t seen him since your final goodbye three years prior, your daddy’s truck full with your things.

You’ve heard about him though. One of your parents always has something to say about that Abbott boy.

Ridin’ bulls like his ol’ man. Pretty damn good too.

Seen him with half the girls in town. He’s gon’ get one of ‘em pregnant if he don’t watch out.

Always in a brawl, limpin’ around town. Never know if it’s a bull or person throwing the punches.

No one ever talks about how Rhett still lives at home, in his plaid bedroom at the end of the hall. Never making it out of Wabang like he so desperately wanted.

You glance over one last time. His head ducks down. What happened to him?

______________________________________________________________

That next summer you get stuck in Wabang when your car won’t start after visiting your parents. The mechanic in town gives you a week minimum for the part to come in. Theresa at the library offers you a few shifts of your high school job, something to pass the time until you can get to your real job a few hours away.

The last few days have been pleasant, mostly elders in the community and the odd teenager whose homestead doesn’t have dial-up. The monotony of checking in battered paperbacks feels good. When you had a moment you spruced up the children’s display with summer books you had enjoyed as a child.

“H’ya.” The distantly familiar voice startles you. Your heart thumps against your chest as your gaze raises to two wide blue eyes and a sheepish smile. “D’nt mean to startle ya.”

Next to him is Amy, nearly as tall as the stack of books she’s carrying. She’s participating in the daily summer program led by Theresa. Every day this week a member of her family has dropped by to pick her up, stopping by to inquire about your folks or your life away. Your mouth goes dry after so long away from the presence of that Abbott boy.

You go along scanning Amy’s books, listening to her prattle on about this and that. She’s an inventive kid, the stories are never dull. Rhett keeps rubbing the back of his neck, that strong bicep hidden underneath a shirt stained with pasture mud. You suppress the urge to tuck an unruly strand back into his cap. But that privilege died years ago.

The two leave with a polite goodbye and your head is reeling. Especially the next morning when Amy strides through the library doors chattering excitedly, her uncle on her heels balancing two coffees. Dropping her off with the other kids with a tap of his elbow. You make yourself busy arranging a shelf when he turns toward you.

He slides the styrofoam cup toward you. You can smell the cinnamon, exactly how you take it.

“S’for you.” A tension breaks between you two as you accept the coffee, tentatively raising it before enjoying that first sip. Your lips curl in a smile as that warm feeling envelopes your entire being.

“Thanks. How’d you know I’d want a coffee?” While you know the answer is because he’s thoughtful, he mumbles something about Amy and his mother and a barista. Your smile lets him know that you’re thankful regardless of the reason.

There’s so many things you want to ask him. What is his life like? Is bull riding everything he imagined it to be? Why didn’t he leave Wabang?

But before you can launch into that conversation, he’s excusing himself back to the ranch, Carhartt jacket out the door before you can ask if he wants to grab a drink later.

Every morning as Amy walks in for the summer program, Rhett trails behind her. A coffee in each hand. Drops it off without any explanation, just a smile so hard to read it plagues your mind.

This goes on until the part for your car finally comes and you can leave this town - and the people in it - behind you.

______________________________________________________________

You’re running late. Another Wabang wedding that has eaten up your weekend with the drive you loathe. There’s a pair of heels and a lipstick in your glovebox for “emergencies” after forgetting and wearing your dusty work boots and a slip dress at the last one. The “Entering Amelia County” sign whips by as you toe the speed limit.

Pulling into the church lot, you’re thankfully not too late. You slip into the back and hope your parents don’t notice, but you’re easy to miss amongst the ten gallon hats.

Vows exchanged. Preacher preaches. A kiss to top it off. And now you’re back where you were ten years previous, standing to the side of the dance floor catching up with classmates while Rhett Abbott drinks a beer leaning against the church.

The biggest difference is that he’s a man now. He’s no longer that Abbott boy. All sinful broad shoulders and muscle from hours of labor. Skin tanned and scarred from sun exposure and barbed fences. That damn brace on the hand not nursing a beer. And instead of cracking jokes with the other twentysomething cowboys, his focus is solely on you.

Neither of you makes a move to connect, letting your gazes linger as you stay with your respective parties. The afternoon fades into dusk. The string lights at the edge of the reception area come to life, offering an amber glow to the increasingly drunken crowd. Even you have enjoyed more than your fair share of whiskey. When the ol’ timers leave, the festivities really begin.

“Care t’dance?” He’s drunk, sliding up behind you smelling of leather, malt, and cinnamon. You know he has three left feet, but when those warm hands wrap around your waist, any worries about your toes promptly disappear.

He’s intoxicatingly close. You’ve never been this close, touched this much. Just quick hip squeezes and the occasional shoulder push, the odd side hug after high school afternoons sitting amongst the grass. At this distance you can see that his eyes have dark spots of indigo. That one eyebrow dips lower than the other. At this distance you fully realize how attracted to him you are.

Rhett’s always been a friend, nothing more. Someone who shared the dream to leave. Another animal lover. The piñata cheater who ruined your tenth birthday. So why did he smile always make you heart flutter?

His dancing is as bad as anticipated. He steps on your toes every few steps, muttering “S’ry” each time. Eventually succeeds to just swaying back and forth, letting you take the lead. His blush feels like a reward, your favorite bashful cowboy.

The music slows to a hauntingly sweet melody and you allow your head to fall to his chest, already missing watching his beautiful face. There’s a wall between you two, unspoken and heavy. It weighs on your chest. Where are the words to express what you’re thinking?

Before you can summon the words - the courage? - to say what you want, the song ends. Panic floods you. And you’ve always been one to choose flight over fight. An excuse tumbles from your lips and suddenly you’re fleeing the makeshift dance floor as quickly as those godforsaken heels will allow.

The blood is rushing in your ears, too loud to hear your name called out behind you. The church is too full of partygoers. Your feet turn toward your car and the solace it provides.

He catches up to you in the parking lot, his legs longer and faster. Takes the creamy white Stetson off his head while he catches his breath. He didn’t realize you were so fast.

The two of you are suddenly alone for the first time in years, no distractions to disrupt the brewing emotions. Your back to the driver’s seat door, eyes alight with confusion. Him towering over you with the kindest expression painted over his features.

“Why’d’you run?”

His breath washes over you, warm and comforting. Every instinct tells you to run, to get away from the rush of emotion consuming your soul that has been building for a decade. But then…fingers intertwine with your own, a soothing thumb over your palm. You’re reminded he’s still that Abbott boy, smelling like trouble but gentle as the prairie grass. You have no need to worry about being vulnerable with him.

A deep breath shudders through you. You break eye contact to answer his question. “Got a little too wrapped up in the moment and forgot I’m not one of your buckle bunnies.”

He lets out a hesitant laugh. Hands released as he cups your chin to look into your eyes. Such pretty eyes.

“I’d trade every one of ‘em for a moment with you.” It’s silent as both your breaths cease, his heartbeat vibrating between you. Your eyes plead for more reassurance, more proof that you’re more than another conquest for a man with too many trophies. He licks his lips. “You remember that piñata?”

You nod. Hard to forget being that mad.

“S’ry for cheatin’. I wanted t’be the one t’get the candy out. Impress ya, show I was the best.” He chuckles. “I’m s’stupid. You like rules. And probably wanted the candy yerself. Surprised ya didn’t kick my ass.”

“I wanted to.” Another low laugh escapes his lips.

“Figured you’d want nothin’ to do wit’me and was good with it for a while, but the summer you grew tits? Came back t’school and nearly passed out. So self-conscious and kept coverin‘em. Wanted to smack your arm, I couldn’t look away. Luke Tillerson brought ‘em up on the way home ’n I punched ‘im in the jaw. That’s when I knew I liked ya. Wanted you to be mine.”

That dirty cowboy. Naughty smiles exchange as you both glance down at your chest, much more developed and pushed up thanks to underwire. He blinks hard to clear his mind.

“When you left, figured t’was time to move on. Beat myself up for never gettin’ the courage to leave too.” Your hand slides up his forearm, sharing comfort for such a raw nerve. He smiles his thanks and runs his own hand up your arm, resting a thumb on your shoulder. “Thought maybe y’were back perm’nently when I saw ya a’the library.”

“It was just until my car was fixed.”

“Know that now. But a guy can dream, right?” The wall has completely crumbled now, your bodies close, breaths intermingling. Your mouth opens to speak, to fill the space.

The words are stopped by a warm cowboy mouth fitting over yours.

The stars align. Planets shift. The cars leaving the party around you fade into the distance. All that remains is Rhett and everything he offers.

Maybe Wabang is worth it after all.

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhettt abbott fan fiction #rhettt abbott fic #outer range fan fiction #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott

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bisexualvampires · 4 months

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Live Laugh Leather

happy 3rd wedding anniversary to these idiots :)

(846 words) Also on AO3

Dean knew the rhythm of Cas’ footsteps from the kitchen all the way to their bedroom. Knew it better than the pulse of his own heart; as familiar to him as the scent of the warm coffee that carried with his husband every morning like clockwork. He found himself smiling against his pillow, feeling the early sunshine through the lake house window heat the frosty February air.

So the routine goes; any minute now Cas would pause to bump the door open with his pajama-clad butt, scooting backward into their bedroom, two coffees in hand. Dean would fake the grouchy attitude as if the gentle interruption had pulled him from sleep. As if, minutes earlier, Cas hadn’t waited until his spidey senses told him Dean’s REM sleep was done and he was ready for his daily stubbled kiss at the back of his neck. For the arm that tightened around his waist, sinking suggestively lower until Dean cracked open an eyelid. Falling for the same old trick every day, before Cas would rise his heavenly ass out of bed to start on coffee. Leaving Dean tethered between the land of sleep and this world of dreams.

Same old, same old.

And wasn’t that a hell of a thing.

Dean scooched over to Cas’ side of the bed. The warmth had faded but it was the scent he chased; like rich earth pounded by the heavy rain of a thunderstorm, the charged promise of lightning still to come. Like honey and ether and so like home, Dean could drown himself in it. Smother himself in his husband’s pillow with a smile on his face and a bulge in his pants.

And so, it began.

The gentle clink of the spoon dropped into the sink. The ceramic scuffling on the kitchen countertop. The first bare footstep on the warm wooden floor.

Three years of this, Dean thought, and he knew he could go a thousand more.

A squeaking sound broke the routine, and Dean perked up his bedhead to listen to the audible eye roll and soft sigh that accompanied it. The footsteps and squeaking drew nearer, and Dean propped himself up on an arm to watch the regularly scheduled show.

The ass that greeted him was familiar, but Dean’s eyes bulged out of his head like Donald Duck at the first sight of Daisy. Cas backed into the room, letting the door swing softly shut behind him.

Dean’s husband paused, breakfast tray in hand and a look of genuine surprise on his face that quickly morphed into a feigned innocence.

“Sweetheart,” Dean managed to say with a tongue that now weighed an ACME ton. “Are you wearing leather pants?” He was dreaming, right? Had to be. If the next words out of Cas' mouth were "tell me about it, stud" in Olivia Newton-John's voice that would surely confirm it. A laugh threatened to burst all the way from his belly, born of shock more than anything, because this was Cas. His Cas. In tight leather pants. Like he was Jon Bon fucking Jovi and Dean was eighteen, alone in his motel room and realising some shit.

But Cas ignored the question, setting the breakfast tray safely on the bedside table. When he turned to find Dean’s gaze still locked on his broad thighs, mouth hanging open like it didn’t know where to start, he placed his hands on his hips.

“The third wedding anniversary gift is leather, is it not?”

Dean glanced up from his stupor, feeling his heart swell like a damn balloon at his husband’s words.

Leather. Anniversary. Right.

How Cas heard "leather" and thought "pants"... actually, he didn't need to know how or why, because this was happening. Somehow this was real life.

Dean licked his lips. Didn’t mean to, but he did.

He’d tell Cas about the new leather couch he’d secretly set up in the Cas Cave later. Right now…

“The salesperson insisted this was the perfect gift,” Cas frowned down at himself. “Perhaps this was a mistake.”

“Whuaa-“ Dean started, tangling in the sheets as he struggled to sit upright. “No, no, they’re – hell of a – gotta tip the guy… god, Cas.” Only the need to defend these pants with his life gave Dean the strength to tear his gaze from them a second time.

He’d expected to find that frown he loved so much – the one that crinkled Cas’ brow, and tugged his soft lips into a flat line. Instead, his husband grinned at him, eyes blazing with that smugness that was the bane of Dean’s life.

Son of a bitch. He played him.

“Happy anniversary, Dean,” Cas said, stepping forward to crawl on his knees across the mattress, caging Dean in between his thighs.

Dean pulled him closer, sunlight glinting on the band of his wedding ring as he ran a hand through Cas’ hair. Three years of this. Already three. Only three.

And he could never have enough.

“Happy anniversary, Cas.” The words were a whisper against his husband’s lips.

The rest, he already knew. They both did.

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redlittlefoxari · 5 months

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To The Ends Of Faêrun : Chapter one: Happy Little Family

This is series two of a fic I have already written.

Master List

Relationship: Astarion x Tav

Warnings: Blood, Sex, Violence, NSFW 18+, Smut

Summary: The year is 1548 it’s fifty-six years after Tav and Astarion defeated the elder brain with their rag-tag group of friends. So much has changed since then Astarion changed careers and is now a tailor while Tav runs the counter. While their daughter attends Gale’s School of Wizardry. That's right their daughter. Everything is going smoothly until something dark threatens to destroy all of Faerûn and it's up to Astarion, Tav, and their Daughter to stop it from happening.

Being a parent to a Dhampir was not the easiest thing in the world. Over the last six years, Tav and Astarion had their fair share of ups and downs when it came to raising Apple, Starting at only eight months old when, after a short nap, Apple had decided that playing on the ceiling was better than waiting in her crib for Tav and Astarion to wake. A simple message to Gale to get some perspective on Apple's new magical abilities and simple solutions before something could indeed be done about them. Apple was only an infant, so her magical abilities were more challenging to control; she did not have the sense of self to know what she was doing. So until then, if she was going down for a nap or Tav or Astarion would have their eyes off of her for longer than a few seconds, a long piece of string was attached to Apple's clothes, and she was then effectively turned into a balloon.

Everything came to a head, however, when, at age four, Apple was having trouble making friends in the neighborhood, so she summoned a fairy from the Faewild, and between the two of them, no closed door could keep them contained, nor would they keep them out. It all seemed harmless until they started playing tricks on anyone and everyone around them, which made others in the neighborhood anything but happy. So when Apple was four, Gale received another message via a sending spell begging him for help, and now there was a permanent portal in the downstairs lining closet that led straight to Waterdeep and vice versa. A year later, Apple was enrolled in Gale's wizard school for gifted children, and Tav now found most of her days, from nine in the morning to three in the afternoon five times a week, empty and devoid of Apple. Despite Apple being a sorceress and not a wizard, no one seemed to care in her class, and everything she learned helped her understand her magic.

Astarion had opened a small tailor shop out of the back room of the manor house they had acquired the day Apple was born, and for the most part, Tav manned the front desk while Astarion took clients and fitted them. He seemed genuinely happy with how his life turned out. Astarion now had a real family, not something forced together as the one Cazador had made, where they were brother and sister in name only. This family he chose was something he cultivated and nurtured over the years, filled with nothing but love and devotion.

Tav sometimes felt horrible for how she felt as she looked at how happy Astarion was where they both were, with their beautiful daughter and thriving business. It just felt like everyone had something but her. Everything was doing something, and she became a housewife and mother. Tav sometimes missed the feeling of blood in her hair, hearing an arrow fly through the air, and the sound it made when it hit its target. She loved Astarion and Apple dearly and wouldn't trade anything for what she had now; she sometimes missed the life she had before. She missed being an adventurer.

"You look amazing."

Astarion's voice woke Tav up from her daydream of years gone by. She looked up to see Astarion walking someone out of the back room. The man was dressed head to toe in a new suit Astarion had made specifically for him. On the front, beads of sapphire, jade, and ruby had been sewin in by hand in an intercept design. From where Tav sat behind the counter, it looked like flowers, but she wasn't paying enough attention to care. All that mattered was that Astarion and the customer liked it. What she thought of it didn't matter.

The customer was a large, dark-skinned man who was a part of the small consul of Baldur's Gate. Tav didn't recognize him and only vaguely remembered Astarion telling her he had booked a client off the consul. Saying that it was for a midsummer's party, they would be attending and that it would require a lot of beadwork. Tav was excited for Astarion; it was the first time someone from the upper city had requested a suit from him. The amount for the suit alone was enough for them to take several months off. Not that Astarion would since he had found a genuine love for his work now that his days of adventuring were behind him.

"I think this might be your best work, Astarion." The customer looked at himself in a mirror, and Astarion stood behind the glass so he wouldn't notice the missing reflection. "How do you manage to get such intercept designs?"

"Years of practice. I am an Elf, so I have the time." Astarion gave a little bow. "If you pay upfront, you can wear it out; My wife will help you at the counter."

The man looked Tav over with an assessing stare. Going over every part he could see. Tav quickly looked for something to do in order to make herself look busy and not as if she was simply doing nothing but keeping the counter in place. In a way, she was only sitting at the front counter to give herself something to do, not attributing to the business other than taking coins and maybe reading in her downtime.

"I wish I had been born an Elf." He pulled out his coin purse and proceeded to walk over to Tav. "You get all the perks; you only have to sleep a few hours, live for hundreds of years, and stay young longer than any of us."

"Maybe you'll get lucky, and when you die fat and happy, you'll be resurrected as something with a little longer life span." Astarion moved behind the counter with Tav. "Though you seem to be making the most out of this one already."

"I would still like more time; my life must seem like a drop in a bucket to you." He placed the purse down on the counter. "It's all there and a little extra for such beautiful work."

"Until next time." Astarion picked up the pouch, assessing its weight as he did.

"Oh, I will definitely be requiring your services again." The man turned. "And I'll be sure everyone at the party knows just who to go to if they want to look as fabulous as I will be."

The councilman walked out, strutting every step, dripping with confidence. Tav thought he wouldn't last more than ten minutes walking down the street in a suit beaded with gems. Surly, some thug or cutthroat would have it off him the second he walked down an ally or crossed into the slightest shadow.

Tav looked at Astarion, who looked like a cat who had caught a particular juicy rat. His lips were perfectly composed into a practiced smile that oozed trust, but his eyes were sharp, focused, and assessing. He likely thought the same thing Tav did and was betting on it. Hoping that the councilmen would come back begging for another suit and Astarion would oblige for double the price.

"He's going to get the crap beat out of him for that jacket," Tav said what they both thought.

"Oh, most definitely." Astarion purred as he spoke. "And that's precisely why I made a second suit, and when he comes back, I'm going to act like it's a huge inconvenience." A sly smile broke across his face. "So much so that he'll offer me extra just for my time."

"You're so cruel." Tav turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "But that's one of the things I love about you."

"It's not my fault he chose to put a target on his back." Astarion snaked his hands around her waist. "A man like that will always let his pride get the better of him."

"I guess it doesn't hurt that after you so graciously make him a new one, he'll be more inclined to tell people about you." Tav gave him a small smile.

"Exactly!" He leaned down, placing a kiss on Tav's head.

Tav pushed up on the balls of her feet to extend her reach, kissing his lips gently. Astarion returned the kiss, pulling her flush against him to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted slightly, inviting him in, and he obliged her, slipping his tongue into her mouth, leaving nothing unexplored. Tav felt heat flush into her body, pooling deep in her core. A moan escaped as she felt Astarion harden against her, a promise of what was to come.

He broke the kiss, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and biting gently. Tav moved her hands into Astarion's hair, weaving them in before tugging at his soft white curls. It was Astarion's turn to moan as his head dipped back slightly, leaning into the tug. Tav took advantage of his now exposed neck as she planted a soft kiss near his jugular. A gasp escaped his lips as Tav's kiss quickly turned into a gentle bite.

"I don't think I have another client for the rest of the day." Astarion's voice was breathy as he spoke. "What do you say to going up to our bed and having a little fun?"

"Whatever could you mean." Tav moved her lips around his neck, teasing him as she placed soft feather-light kisses on his exposed throat.

"You know exactly what I mean." Astarion moved his hands to cup Tav's face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Now, don't play dumb, or I'll have to show you what I mean right here where anyone could walk in and see."

"Well, when you put it that way." She gave him a wicked smile. "I wouldn't want anyone to see and get jealous."

"No, we wouldn't want that." Astarion gave Tav a rough, demanding kiss. "They would need to pay for it first, at least."

Tav chuckled as she thought about someone walking in on them. She was not interested in being watched in the slightest, but the thought still made her heart race. Moments like these were rare. Offend times took place in the dead of night when they thought that Apple wouldn't be awake to hear them and on days when Astarion wasn't exhausted after filling orders and stitching all day. It had gotten so bad that they had to plan out days in advance when they would have sex. Tav often missed the feel of his fingers caressing her body or the feeling of his lips on her neck. Their lives had changed in so many ways. Having to plan when they would have sex was never something she would have imagined. So when days like this happened, Tav was all but gitty with excitement.

Their passion was cut short when a crackle of magic filled the air, signaling the arrival of Apple coming home from her day at school. Astrarion let out a sigh before moving away from Tav, giving her a look that let her know they would continue where they left off later. Tav blew him a kiss in confirmation before turning away and slowly making her way to the linen closet. Astarion stayed behind the counter as he waited for his arousal to quiet down.

Apple burst through the door holding a small black book bag, a large smile plastered on her face. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in her parents, practically vibrating with excitement. That's how it was most days when she came back from school with her uncle Gale. She had a thirst for knowledge, and since she started at Gale's academy, her hunger only grew. She was a second year, which was noted by the patch sewn onto her breast pocket. The green patch matched her eyes and went nicely with the dark brown of the robe.

As the students aged, the color of the robes would change, and since Apple was still in the youngest block, she got to wear the plainest robe color. In a few years, she would move to blue, then purple, before finaly, in her final years, she would be able to choose her own clothes. Since then, she would be an adult and thus able to go off on her own technically. But Tav didn't want to think that Apple was still her baby girl and would stay that way for a long time.

"Mommy!" Apple bounced toward Tav as if she were a rabbit. "Guess what Uncle Gale had us do today!?"

"What would that be love?" Tav crouched down to get down on her level to talk.

Apple wrapped her arms around Tav's neck, nearly knocking her over as she crashed into her, too excited to temper her excitement. Tav kept her footing as she hugged Apple tightly, placing her hands behind her head to touch her soft white curls.

Apple looked more and more like Astarion every day; there was no mistaking whose child she was. Her curls swept down past her shoulders and fell in delicate rings. Despite her eyes being a deep emerald green accented with gold flecks, the shape of them was the same as her father's. Tav had to look hard to find anything that resembled her in her own daughter, and even then, she was growing up so fast even those things changed.

"Watch this mommy." Apple took a step away from Tav to ready herself for casting magic.

Tav pursed her lips together as she watched Apple stick out her tongue in concentration and shimmy her shoulders. The little sorceress closed her eyes and chanted the incantation she had learned today, only stumbling a little at the end of her sentence. Within seconds, lights appeared around her, dancing around her in a circle. Tav knew that with this spell now in Apple's repertoire, she would surely use it to stay up late and read under her covers at night. This was not the end of the world, but Tav knew it would lead to a grumpy Apple the following day.

"That is amazing, sweetheart!" Tav clapped her hands together. "Why don't we celebrate you learning a new spell by letting you choose what we will have for dinner?"

"Really! Anything I want?"

The gold in Apple's eyes glowed like stars at the thought of her getting to choose dinner. Tav heard Astarion's footsteps approaching from behind and turned to face him. He had a look of awe on his face. Not from the spell. It was one of the simplest spells that could be done, but he was in awe of his daughter. Every time he looked at her, he got a glimpse of his own face, something he hadn't seen in over two hundred years.

"Anything you want, darling, I will make." Astarion smiled.

"Can I have shepherd's pie?" Apple ran so that she nearly stepped on Astarion's feet and craned her neck to look up at him.

"Of course, we'll need to go and buy the ingredients." Astarion picked Apple up so that she was dangling in front of him. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Yes!"

"Will you be coming with us, love?" Astarion looked at Tav, who had turned to watch the exchange.

"Well, of course!" Tav moved to tickle Apple. "Once our little sorceress goes and changes out of her school clothes."

Apple was helpless as Tav's fingers found their mark. Moving up and down her sides, causing her to break out in uncontrollable laughter.

"Stop it, mommy! I'll get changed! I promise." Apple tried and failed to get Tav to stop. "Daddy, help me!"

"I'll Save you." Astarion spun and placed Apple on the ground. "Now hurry and change. I can only hold your mother back for so long!"

Astarion moved to embrace Tav, trying his best to make it look as if he was genuinely restraining her and not just holding her tightly against him. Tav played along, pretending as if his embrace trapped her. Mock struggled as if she was trying to break free.

"Thanks, Dad; keep her like that till I get back!" Apple retreated towards the stairs in the other room.

"Oh, I won't be letting her go, my sweet little Apple!" He shouted over his shoulder. "Not until I am delighted, at least." He whispered the last part so Apple wouldn't hear, but Tav indeed could.

"I Don't think we have time to satisfy you truly." Tav gave him a seductive smile. "She'll be back down in just a few minutes, and we both know you're not that quick."

"Then we better make it count." Astarion moved to the shell of Tav's ear. "For now, I'll just give you a taste of what is yet to come."

A shiver ran down Tav's spine. "Just kiss me, you beautiful fool."

"That's all?" Astarion moved his lips until they were nearly touching Tav's. "I would have thought you'd have a more vivid imagination."

"I do, but we don't have the time," Tav growled out her following words. "But I'll be sure to show you just how vivid my imagination is tonight."

Astarion chuckled. "I'm looking forward to that."

He finally touched Tav's, kissing her softly as they both listened for Apple's footsteps.

It took Apple fifteen minutes to choose from her massive wardrobe and come downstairs. Astarion had been busy over the years, making her dresses, pants, tunics, and whatever else he could think of. She was the best-dressed child in the neighborhood. Maybe even in all of Baldur's Gate.

The three of them went to the shops they needed to get the ingredients for the shepherd's pie Apple had asked for. They stopped by the butcher Alphones to pick up the ground lamb and a few jars of blood. Apple was nearly drooling at the sight of blood, and Tav quickly took the jars and headed outside. From there, they bought the rest of the vegetables on the way home, and Astarion and Tav set to peeling, chopping, and preparing for dinner while Apple read from her textbook.

After an hour or so, dinner was ready. Astarion poured himself and Apple a glass of blood while Tav made her and Apple a plate. The food smelled delicious, and Tav felt her mouth watering in anticipation of the meal she was about to devour. Apple sat across from Tav, and Astarion sat to Tav's left at the head of the table. Silence fell across the table as the meal started to be consumed.

"Oh!" Apple broke the silence after cleaning her plate. "I forgot to tell you the most exciting part of the day!"

"Learning a new spell wasn't at the top?" Astarion took a sip of his glass. "I'm surprised."

"Did something funny happen?" Tav stopped eating to listen to Apple speak, giving her full attention to her child.

"No, Urdrar told me he's going to get to be a big brother!" Apple was nearly standing in her seat.

Tav knew that Urdrar was a Dwarf and that he was Apple's best friend in her class. He had visited the portal several times with Apple for play dates, but Tav had never met his parents. Urdrar was a nice enough child, polite, and didn't like getting into trouble; unlike Apple, it almost seemed like trouble followed her wherever she went. She could often get the small, stocky, dwarven boy to do almost anything, taking advantage of his small frame to squeeze into all places. Being excited for her best friend made sense, but Tav could sense there was more to this excitement than just being happy for her friend.

"That's exciting for Urdrar." Tav looked at Astarion, who was still sipping on his glass.

"Yeah! But I was just wondering." Apple looked away from Tav's gaze.

There it is, Tav thought.

"Could I have a baby brother or sister?"

Astarion nearly choked on his blood at the words that came out of Apple's mouth. Tav got up from her seat to rub soothing circles on his back till he was no longer choking on the blood that had entered his lungs. It took a few more seconds before Astarion answered her question. Having a hard time finding the words to say.

"It is more difficult than just going to the store and picking a baby out, darling." Astarion turned to look at Tav, pleading for help with his eyes.

"He's right, dear. It's… complicated." Tav struggled to find the words.

"Why?" Apple knitted her brows together. "How do you get a baby then?"

Tav's heart felt like it was pounding against her chest. “Well… ummm… That's something only grown-ups get to know."

"Why?" Apple placed one hand on her hip. "What do you have to do?"

"We'll tell you when you are older, but not now." Astarion looked as if he was going to die all over again. "Why don't you go wash up and study? Your mom and I need to talk."

"Are you going to talk about how to make a baby?" Apple didn't move.

"No honey, we already know how to make a baby." Astarion smiled. "We don't need to talk about how it's done."

"Astarion!" Tav turned red.

"What? I didn't say anything." He stood, grabbing Apple's plate as he did. "Now go, Apple, I'll come up in a little while to read you a bedtime story."

"Ooookaaaay." Apple elongated the word as she rose from her seat and headed towards the stairs.

Tav and Astarion waited until they thought Apple was no longer within range to hear the conversation that they were about to have. The room was silent and thick with anticipation, both waiting for the other to speak.

"Well, we should probably clean up, huh?" Tav grabbed her plate and started making her way to the kitchen.

"Tav? It's not like we haven't discussed this before." Atsrion followed behind her.

"I know, but now she's asking about it." Tav let out a long sigh. "How do you tell a six-year-old I'm sorry, mommy and Daddy can't give you a brother or sister because having you was a miracle in itself, and it's a long shot if it ever happens again."

"Well, I think, just like that." Astarion placed the plate he was holding in the sink. "It's not like it's impossible; we've done it before."

"By accident!" Tav whirled around so that she was face to face with Astarion. "It was blind luck that I got pregnant the first time, and you know that being an elf makes it even harder."

Astarion grabbed Tav by the shoulders and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to try." Astarion smiled. "Gives us more of an excuse to… practice."

"I suppose we can read the paper for any elves that have died recently, or maybe there is a tea or potion that helps elves conceive." Tav smiled at Astarion despite feeling like she was going to throw up. "I mean, Drow have whole families; maybe they know something we don't."

"There we go!" Astarion wrapped his arms around Tav, pulling her into a tight embrace. "This time, we'll do some research that should make things easier."

"Yeah." Tav hugged Astarion back. "Easier..."

—————————————————

Tag list: @ofmyth-andmagicart @lunaredgrave @littlekidsteve @omnia--mea-mecum-porto @ayselluna @myreadingmanga123 @kismet-of-the-divine @nicalysm @justlilpeaches21 @five-salty-bitters @lenarosic88 @caydevakarian @supervrgnsokay-blog @ravenswritingroom @kalypsoox @foxiecelery @wisteriaofthegraves

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cjir · 1 month

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CLASS1A HEADCANONS

(spoiler warning for S7/the manga! Hc's are in seating order. Post is long lol)

Aoyama

Didn't even want to be a hero once he got his quirk. it was just something he mentioned like 3 times when he was 5.

Does not like his parents at all

Comfort eater. He is stressed out of his mind

Considers midoriya his best friend

Grew up extremely pampered

Will just make up stories from when he lived in france

"really?? Did that happen??" "No."

Mina

Adopted, parents passed a few years ago after a building collapsed

The day she learns about aroace identities is the day she heals

She didn't know anything about kirishima besides his name by the time they started ua so she hunted down his old friends to learn about him. Unsurprisingly they didn't know all that much

She's the one who kills/removes the bugs from the dorms

Shes relatively popular on social media

Asui

Has firmly decided against kids. She loves her siblings but god no she is NEVER raising a child again

Enjoys baking, she does it with Sato often

Swears the most in 1a

Horrible posture, Iida is constantly trying to fix it

Iida

Fear of failure

Had like. No childhood. Tensei tried but he just wouldn't watch many movies unless he could be tricked into believing it would help his future

Very anxious kid

He genuinely really wants to connect and relate to his classmates but he struggles with it. Part of him wishes he could've just had normal teenage experiences

Terrible at making jokes. He tries so hard but they never land. He got todoroki and no one else to laugh once and he is still reeling from it

Ochako

Post-war she thinks about Toga like. Every day. She never stops grieving that girl

She becomes determined to reach out and save as many people as humanly possible

Later in life she ends up fostering kids with “difficult” and “villainous” quirks and encourages them to pursue their dreams

She adores animals. Her favourite place growing up was the pet store

She feels a bit guilty about having to move to the dorms. She felt obligated to help out her parents around the house

Gym rat. All about proteins and gains. She is determined to get a six pack at some point. Though she does struggle to gain muscle.

Ojiro

Throws the hardest punches. He has broken several of his classmates' noses accidentally

Has to constantly hear about hagakure's ex’s and he hates all of them

Enjoys embroidery and knitting. Eventually learns to make clothes. He gives them as gifts and sells some for extra money

Lots of awards from tournaments

He was raised in a cult but hasn't exactly realised yet, he will talk about the most insane things and act like theyre regular parts of growing up. He lives with his grandparents now

Eventually finds out he is really good with throwing knives

insanely oblivious. Sex jokes fly right over his head (they have to be explained to him) and he can never tell when he's being hit on

Denki

His mum is a pro hero and his dad is in jail. They both love him dearly, despite the fact that he was a complete accident

Was home alone very often. His mum travels a lot for work. He can have friends stay over for weeks at a time without her ever finding out

His dad was the one who taught him how to hotwire cars

Out of everyone in 1a, he has the most dating experience. He dated like half his middle school class and they all ended on good terms. Was a lot of people's gay awakening

The lightning bolt is natural, shockingly enough. No one believes him until he pulls out pictures from when he was a baby

He was born with a full head of hair actually

Sometimes helium balloons will just float at him

Kirishima

Absolutely tank, can take anything

This also applies to food. He can eat inedible things and be completely fine.

Was huge into DND in middle school. Wants to set up a game for 1a but has only convinced tokoyami and midoriya so far

Was really disappointed when his quirk manifested

Koda

Insomnia

He was bullied throughout middle school and sometimes still expects his classmates to be cruel to him

Lived with his mother and grandma. His father died when he was young

He was ecstatic when his quirk manifested. He had several pets as a kid and would try and communicate with them

Once unintentionally managed to get wolves to help him fight in a 1v1 (he was fighting sero who damn near passed out from fear)

Allergic to cat hair but he refuses to let that stop him

Present mic will not look at him the same after the bug incident

Sato

Stress bakes like crazy. Sometimes all of 1a will wake up to a cupcake outside their door that he made at like 4am

He is the only one who likes his hero costume, everyone else thinks it's lame

Has 4 siblings. He's dead in the middle age wise

His family is dramatic as hell. They get into the pettiest arguments ever and then don't talk for a month. He ended up having to play peacekeeper pretty frequently

Moving to the dorms was a well needed break for him

His hair is dyed. He's naturally ginger. He has not told a soul

Shoji

Covered head to toe in scars. Denki made the mistake of asking about it once, and the boys were greeted with the most horrifying story they had ever heard while changing into their hero costumes

Has been in mandatory therapy for years

He really enjoys being the tallest. He will sometimes hold things over his head just to tease tokoyami

When his quirk manifested he was scared shitless

Lived in an orphanage and is currently in custody of UA

His parents go on to have more kids after him and he never learns about them. He did always want siblings

Jirou

Has special little ear muffs for her jack's.

Her hair was done in the bathroom at 3am the day of the entrance exam

The heartbeat in her hair is only visible in the light

While she's great at picking up instruments, she cannot draw to save her life. It's like the only thing kaminari is better than her at

Sero

His hair grows like that naturally. He figures his ends are supposed to look like tape dispenser teeth as some joke from the universe. Got tired of trying to fix it and now just lets it grow out

He has been using his quirk to do parkour since he was 9. He used to terrify his parents with the stunts he would pull

He has an older sister in collage

Tokoyami

Extremely religious parents. They got him an exorcism once, just to be sure.

Him + dark shadow fight like siblings

He'd get really quiet when he was upset while ds would start shrieking

Becoming a hero was dark shadows idea

He speaks like that cuz he read gothic poetry he found around the house as a kid

He is a complete mutation. No one in his family has a quirk even remotely similar to dark shadow or has a bird head

Dark shadow used to be way more abstract but took the bird form more permanently after tokoyami got more of a handle on it.

Tokoyami is on record of having an extremely unstable quirk.

He always felt the need to suppress his emotions to control his quirk but it backfired spectacularly. He's healthier about it now

Also, dark shadow is fully sentient. A bit behind developmentally, and struggles to comprehend things, but shockingly sentient

He has a really hard time putting on weight. Like all his bones are visible

Todoroki

allergic to onions. He eats them anyways

He dispises his father with his whole chest sometimes but he also wants to give him a chance because he's his father, yk?

He bases a lot of his opinions on what he thinks he is supposed to feel. Like he doesn't mind pineapple on pizza but since everyone else online thinks it's the worst thing ever I guess he does too¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

He's not completely blind in his left eye, but his vision is cloudy and really poor

Hagakure

Desperately wants to find “the one”. She used to date whoever she could just to try and find the love of her life. It lead to a lot of dumb drama and bad middle school relationships

She's great at makeup, but doesn't wear it outside of her room because it used to freak people out

While she gets upset about her quirk sometimes, she does love being able to sneak around unseen

Whenever someone's door opens they instinctively tell Hagakure to get out, even if it was just the wind

Comes from a relatively wealthy family

She needs glasses but won't wear them

Bakugo

he thinks his friends are the funniest people on earth but he will DIE before he ever tells them that or actually laughs at their jokes

Legitimately bit Monoma once and he was so confused

Used to model for his parents' businesses. Midoriya has pictures on hand in UA now that he realises people will actually make fun of bakugo instead of worshipping the ground he walks on

Comically long skincare and hair routine

UA has humbled him HARD

Actually has a very good relationship with his parents. They were very encouraging. To a fault, but still.

Midoriya

Had a diary in middle school where he would write about the ways he would violently torture his bullys

He finds it again in like 2nd year and he cringes so hard. Unfortunately Bakugo also reads the diary and gets freaked out

Midoriya will listen to whatevers being said with 100% of his attention so whoever he's talking to doesn't feel ignored. The exception his whenever he's daydreaming about the plot and exposition dumping to the audience

Some time in 2nd year, he starts intentionally pissing bakugou off because he can get away with it now

His school record makes it seem like he's a complete delinquent and Azaiwa was a little surprised when he actually met him

When the war ends he gets clowned on ferociously for that bald spot. Omg the poor guy is so embarrassed

Momo

Everyone loves her but LORD is she out of touch sometimes. Has no understanding of how much things actually cost and how affordable they actually are

She styles her hair to be spikey. She wanted to seem cool and rough around the edges when she joined ua. It didn't work

Crazy anxiety. She spends a lot of time with Koda and his rabbit.

Her parents launder money and haven't been caught yet. She has no idea

Bonus:

Shoji and Todoroki bond over childhood trauma

Everyone is convinced Jirou, Denki and Momo are gonna become a throuple at some point. Bets have been placed about when

Bakugou does genuinely consider denki his friend

Quirkless training usually comes down to ojiro and Bakugou, tho Midoriya has won once or twice

Dark shadow is deemed a complete menace and genuinely has beef with some of 1a (Bakugo, Iida, ect.) but for some reason, dark shadow and Sato in particular have become sworn enemies

Ochako and Kirishima asked Ojiro to teach them martial arts and they have never seen him more excited

Tokoyami, Todoroki and Bakugo are COVERED in burn scars post war

Everyone assumes Hagakure and Ojiro are dating but they surprisingly aren't (yet))

Class1a occasionally binges shows together. They usually get super attached to a character who reminds them of someone in 1a and then get really sad whenever something bad happens to that character

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #mha headcanons #mha hcs #class 1a #class 1a headcanons

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i-cannot-spell-chaos · 1 year

Text

honk!

Platonic little yandere monsters and clown reader

You thought when you had gotten hired years in advance it was a joke. However due to contract you had to show up still in full make up and costume.

You arrived a little late to what you thought would be a party even if there was one. You pulled up in your beat up car to this old church. You turned off you car and opened up your trunk to grab you clown supplies balloons,horns,fake coins etc. You had everything any clown would want.

You knocked on the church a couple of times. Hearing nothing in return you understood it was a prank and turned around. You would think they they would cancel it at to get their money back.

Turning around you headed back to you car. You heard a creak from the door and a small squeak. You turned to look for whoever opened the door but saw no one. Just an Crack in the door.

You pushed the door open seeing the dusty old church. You felt a pull on your shirt sleeve. However when you looked you saw nothing. The feeling of being stated at was normal for you. In this circumstance in was abnormal since normally you could see the people watching. In this situation you saw no one bit you had the feeling.

Then you heard it the one things you never want to hear in a church. Tiny voices chanting your fake name in a church. It finally clicked they were hiding from you. Maybe they were scared or was waiting for you to do some tricks?

So you gave them a performance. In your opinion the greatest one yet.

Small clapping was heard.

You did this until your time was up and when you had to leave. Thunder rumbled the church when you started packing you materials up.

You went to the door but it was slammed shut. When you tried to open it and you really did try. It Just wouldn't budge.

You felt a small tug on your leg. Looking down you finally saw it a small creature was hugging your leg tightly. It started a chant 'again, again, again'

And you can just refuse that little face

#Yandere #platonic yandere #Little creatures in church #Clown reader #gn reader

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iambutmortal · 6 months

Text

Watch Me Burn

Chapter 1

Summary: Lucien Vanserra, Godkiller and disgraced prince, is more than content on his own. He doesn't need his family, or his wife, or his former friend. Hasn't needed them in years. But when villages start being attacked by a force he thought he'd destroyed years ago, he's forced back into their company to retrieve the mysterious firebird and save his kingdom from ruin.

Pairing: Elucien

Word Count: 3k

Content Warning: Gore, brief mention of infertility

Authors Note: Happiest of holidays to @labellefleur-sauvage! You mentioned you were a fan of the Witcher video games so I wrote this kind of sort of Witcher AU! It was originally a one shot but has ballooned into a 9 part monstrosity, so I hope that's okay, and also sorry about the delay. You were such a lovely match, thank you for putting up with me. Also the biggest thanks to @witch-and-her-witcher for letting me have a meltdown in her dms, and also to @acotargiftexchange for making this happen.

Read on Ao3

The god sitting in the remains of the temple seemed completely unconcerned with the swarm of bees circling his head. He seemed equally unconcerned by the man approaching him, if his closed eyes were any indication.

Lucien carefully picked his way around the hunks of stone, trying not to twist his ankle as he climbed his way up the half crumbled steps. He scanned for any sort of trick, but aside from the bees there was nothing unusual. Even the god even looked human, if not for the antlers growing out of his head, long and curved like a ram’s.

“You have a choice,” Lucien called once he was on the mostly-level temple floor, unsheathing the sword strapped to his back.

The god didn’t bother to look at him, although Lucien half wondered if he could hear over the sound of buzzing. This close, the swarm was loud enough Lucien’s ear’s were starting to ache.

“Hey,” Lucien yelled, louder this time. A stray bee landed on his nose, and Lucien swiped at it.

Still no response.

Lucien sighed, picked up a piece of marble next to his boot, and threw it at the god. It bounced harmlessly off an antler. That got his attention, and the god swung his head to glare at Lucien with golden eyes.

“The god-butchers really have fallen if they’re resorting to rocks.”

Lucien lifted the sword in his hand, the metal flashing in the sun. “I’ve come to offer a choice.”

“Yes, yes, leave or be killed, I know,” the god signed, sounding bored by the options. “You’re not the first of the butchers to come here and you won’t be the last.”

“You think I’m like most Godkillers?” Lucien asked.

The god looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time, taking in the left eye made of metal, almost the same shade as the god’s own, the long red hair carefully braided back. Recognition danced across his face, at last garnering a response. The god slowly rose to his feet.

Lucien ran through his memory of the remaining gods, the long list of names and descriptions he’d been forced to memorize during his years of training at the keep. He’d spent hours on that list, staying up until the early hours of the morning with nothing but a candle pouring over the pages.

“Hello Aristaeus.”

If it was possible for an immortal being to look surprised, Aristaeus did. “I thought your kind destroyed the old records.”

“The keep has a record for our own usage.” The master, Azriel, insisted it was so the Godkillers would know what they were up against, the monstrous gods they faced. Lucien thought it was bullshit. All the gods who’d proved any real danger had long since been driven out, either killed or sent so deep into the wilderness they’d never be found. Which left Lucien fighting those who were too stupid or weak to leave.

No, Lucien thought they kept the records, made novices memorize every single name on them, because there was something profoundly sad about killing a creature who no one remembered. Who would be wiped completely from existence after they died. And even the Godkillers, for all their zeal and devotion, felt enough pity to do that one act of kindness.

Aristaeus spread his arms widely. “Then you know to fear me.”

Lucien choked down his snort. As if anything he was sent to face made him fear. The minor gods were as dangerous as mosquitos, and twice as irritating.

And they were especially irritating to the villages that paid Lucien to dispatch of them, gathering the little spare change they have left over after market day in a communal cup in the tavern until they had enough saved to pay a Godkiller to get rid of the god who took delight in wrecking their harvest or killed one too many of their herd.

Aristaeus apparently had a propensity for sending bees at all hours of the day, attacking festivals, harvests, or children in the little time they were given to play.

Which unfortunately meant he had to die. So Lucien brandished his sword threateningly and advanced a step.

“I’m going to send your pretty head to your brother,” Aristaeus said. “Remind him of how far the prince can fall.”

Lucien arched an eyebrow, the one that wasn’t cut through with the scar that ran down his face from brow to cheek He’d been described as many things in his life, but pretty was not one he’d heard. Not when the metal eye took so much of people’s focus.

“Eris would probably thank you,” Lucien grumbled.

“Family troubles?” Aristaeus asked, advancing on him, the bees around his head forming a clump. Lucien sensed what was coming a second before, and held up his free hand. Fire flicked at his fingers, smoke trailing from them.

The cloud of bees started to swarm, and Lucien willed the flames higher, the smoke growing thicker. It burned at his eyes and nose, but he kept the flames alight. The bees slowed, circling Lucien but not attacking.

“That’s not fair,” Aristaeus pouted. “Your kind isn’t supposed to have magic.”

“Special allowances were made,” Lucien said, hoisting the sword up and advancing. Understatement of the millennium. “Now yield and leave this place.”

“They used to worship me,” Aristaeus whined. “They would crowd at this temple, pray for their crops to bear fruit, for their fertility.” The bees were fleeing now, trying to escape the heavy smoke still filling the air. “And then they all left me alone, all alone here, and they’re unhappy? The bees are the least of their issues, I should be slaughtering them in their beds.”

“Times change.” Lucien swung the sword, the sharp blade meeting Aristaeus’ neck. The edge that Lucien had so carefully honed that morning sliced through flesh and sinew, severing his head cleanly.

The God didn’t even bleed, just collapsed to the ground before breaking apart into dust. As if he’d never existed at all. Lucien huffed, extinguishing the flames still licking at his fingerprints, and bent down to claim his spoils.

The tavern was unusually crowded when Lucien arrived. He was used to a few sad souls, men with nothing better to do than drink the day away, maybe a bar maiden if he was lucky, but today it was teeming. Like the whole town had gathered to see if he’d actually come back.

Lucien lifted the sack he held at his side, dumping its contents on one of the long tables. The head of Aristaeus, the only thing left of the god, tumbled out. The men nearest leapt back, a few retching at the sight.

Lucien snorted. It always surprised him how squeamish farmers could be, seeing what they did to their own animals. Not that presenting heads was his preferred method, but he needed to prove the job was done somehow, and physical evidence was required more often than not.

“I’m owed three talons,” Lucien said, sliding onto the bench in front of the table. “And a cask of ale.”

A mug was placed in front of him, foam nearly flowing over the rim. The deliverer, a man whose hair was more gray than brown slid into the seat across from him. His tunic was slightly finer than those of the rest of the men, his posture straightener. Signs he wore with pride of his town leadership.

Lucien searched his memory trying to find his name. “Grogov,” he said after a second. “I take it you have my coins.”

Grogov’s dark eyes darted around the room, marking a few of the men out. The largest ones. “A few of us were discussing,” he said, “and three talents is a steep price to pay for a day of work.”

“Yet three talons were what you offered, and agreed to.”

Grogov forced out a laugh, the sound strained. “An offer made under duress. Our children were being attacked.”

“They were stung by bees,” Lucien corrected.

“Mothers were hysterical. We felt like we had no other option but to offer something we couldn’t afford to pay.”

“Yet you had the money to print posters,” Lucien said, leaning back in his seat. His hand, the one not wrapped around the handle of the beer mug he had yet to drink from, drifted down to his waist band, and the knife tucked there. “And enough coins to show me when I arrived.”

“Circumstances change,” Grogov said. The men he’d given such significant glances to seemed to advance, forming a loose ring around them. “And I’m sure we could come to an arrangement.”

Lucien’s fingers wrapped around the knife hilt. “An arrangement where you pay me three talents?”

Another strangled laugh from Grogov. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“One where I’m paid what I’m owed?”

Grogov leaned closer. “There’s always room for debate.” Behind him, one of the men, no doubt the largest in the village, pulled out a sword. The blade was dull, rusted in parts, and Lucien had to keep from snorting at the lack of threat it posed.

“Threatening a Godkiller then?”

“Merely opening the conversation. After all, you’re alone. No companions, no family.”

Lucien hummed, understanding the threat in the words. No one would notice if you were missing, not for a long while anyway. He made a show of debating the idea, furrowing his brow, before leaping out of his seat with speed no human man could hope to match. He threw Grogov against the wall of the tavern, sliding the small knife out of his pocket and holding it against the man’s throat.

“Talk away.”

Grogov swallowed, the movement of his throat pressing the blade into his skin. Blood welled, and his eyes slid to the head still on the table. The village lads, picked for their size, not their bravery, seemed frozen in place.

“I—”

He was saved from talking himself into further danger by the tavern door flying open. Trumpets sounded, the ridiculous jaunt of the Lord of Kouemos. A song far too chipper for a ruler who was, by all accounts, a terror.

Lucien didn’t drop the blade, but did turn his head towards the sound. The messenger lowered the trumpet, looking entirely too pleased with himself. The colors of his costume, the bright red and yellow stripes, were comically amidst the dirt and grime of the tavern. As were the shoulder pads that ballooned around his upper arms, and the tight, short breeches.

Musicians, Lucien thought to himself.

“I have a message for Lucien Vanserra.”

“Present,” Lucien growled, not moving. He watched the tavern still as they stared at him, tried to square the rough Godkiller threatening the town’s reeve with the stories they’d no doubt heard. Of the gentle noble, his mother’s favorite for his kind heart, so different than that of his brothers.

“I hail from Kousemos,” he said, with a flourishing bow. Lucien tried not to roll his eyes. As if anyone would be able to miss that, based on his, well, everything. A bunch of ostentatious self righteous pricks they were. “You’ve been summoned by our fearless, magnanimous, kind—”

“Get one with it,” Lucien interrupted.

The messenger cleared his throat. “Our leader requests your presence.”

“Will he pay?”

“Most assuredly, anything you may ask for. Our leader is well known for being generous, the most generous—”

“Yes fine,” Lucien sighed. He pressed Grogov closer to the wall. “Just as soon as this one pays up.”

Grogov reached a trembling hand into his pocket, pulling out the three gold coins Lucien was after. Apparently matters were much less up for debate now. Lucien snatched the coins, before lowering the knife. He cast a mournful glance at his ale, still untouched and gestured for the messenger to lead the way out of the tavern.

Shockingly, his horse was still where he’d left it, tied to the post in front of the stable. “Sorry for the delay, Tam,” Lucien said, stroking his roan mane once before pulling himself up into the saddle.

“My lord,” the messenger said, running after him. The shoulder pads flapped dramatically up and down, and Lucien bit down on his tongue to hold in his laughter. “I insist upon accompanying you.”

“It’s Lucien.” He hadn’t been called Lord in a long, long time. “And you’ll just slow me down.”

“I insist,” the messenger said. “My orders demand it.”

Lucien nodded. “And what’s your name?”

“Hart, sir.” He gave another little bow of flourish.

“Hart, who gave you this order?”

“The reeve of Kousemos,” he said proudly.

Lucien smiled, one of the slow, sarcastic ones he’d all but mastered. “Then I, Lord Lucien, outrank him, yes.”

Hart blinked. “Well, I—”

“So I order that I ride alone.” And with that, Lucien nudged Tamlin on, the horse starting off at a brisk trot, leaving Hart standing in front of the stable, a bright spot against the dusty ground.

Kouemos had changed since he’d last come. Sure, the buildings were the same, small shacks lining the one street leading up to the large manor house. But it was like the air was different, hung thick with the raw, almost bitter, taste of power. The town seemed to hum, getting fuzzy around the edges. The colors were too bright, the green of the plants a brilliant emerald that he’d only seen on the tapestries his mother liked to sew with her ladies.

Lucien shifted uneasily in the saddle. Even Tamlin seemed uncomfortable, his ears held back, muscles tensed.

“It’s fine,” Lucien said, not sure if he was talking to himself or the horse. His voice seemed to echo, the world far too quiet. Tam’s hooves drummed against the cobblestones in the silence, alerting anyone who was waiting for them. Here we are. Lucien peered at the small houses, expecting to see dirty faces pressed against the windows, but there were none.

In fact, there were no people anywhere, not in the streets, not manning the few carts that dotted the side of the road. They looked haphazard in their placement, as if the owner had just dumped them wherever he stood and walked away.

The magic in the air only seemed to grow stronger as he got closer to the manor house, the colors around him brighter. Flowers bloomed from window boxes, overflowing their containers and spilling onto the ground. The hue almost burned at his eye, too bright for any human to take in.

The gates to the house were left wide open and unguarded, inviting anyone who wanted to to enter. Lucien swung himself off Tamlin’s back. A trap, certainly, but one he was too curious not to enter. “Stay here,” he told the horse. Tamlin shuffled his hooves uncomfortably.

Lucien pulled out one of the twin blades he’d strapped on his back, brandishing it high as he walked through the entrance.

If Lucien thought the town had been bright, it was nothing compared to inside the gates. Vines crawled over the ground, blossoms peeking through anywhere they could get sunlight, crowding against one another. Fruit hung from branches, apples in the same bunches as oranges, pressed next to plums.

Lucien plucked one, biting into it. Juice gushed down his chin, too much to be contained in any normal fruit. He spat it out quickly, throwing the plum away from him. Where it hit the ground, it instantly started sprouting, green pushing through the pit and reaching up towards the sky.

He shoved through the vines, trying to wade towards the house’s entrance. He slashed at the growth, but it seemed to grow back faster than he could beat it back.

By the time he made it to the entrance he was dripping in sweat, thick rivulets streaming down his forehead. His tunic stuck to his skin, the white linen practically see through it was so damp.

Lucien pounded on the door with his fist, and it flew open.

“Greetings, Lord Lucien,” the man said brightly, utterly unfazed by Lucien’s dishevelment. Or the sharp blades in his hands. He wore the same garish costume as the messenger, the colors making his features look washed out, plain. “The town reeve is waiting for you.”

“I heard.”

“Good, good,” the man said, stepping back. His eyes were unfocused, looking through Lucien. “I’ll take you right there.” He turned mechanically, leading Lucien through the halls. His motions were jerky, slow, like he wasn’t in control of his own body.

The rest of the house seemed to be in a similar daze. Lucien cocked his head as a maid carrying a bucket full of flowers almost slammed into him. Like she didn’t even notice he was there. Her dress was far too nice for her station, a tick velvet brocade that would be more fitting among a lady’s ball gowns. And far nicer than anything anyone in Kouemos had ever owned.

Lucien followed the man through the lower floor and up a side staircase, although he had a sinking suspicion he knew exactly where they were going. Sure enough, they came to a stop in the middle of a long hallway, facing the middle of three doors in it.

“The reeve will be so excited to see you.”

Lucien smiled wryly. “Of that I’m sure.”

The door flew open without either of them touching it, opening up to a darkly lit chamber. Lucien strode in, a rough smile still on his face.

The room was utterly barren except for a single bed in the middle of the room, and the woman lounging on it.

She was stunning, gold hair floating around her shoulders in soft curls. Same soft pink dresses she always seemed to wear, same heart shaped face peering up at him. Lucien wracked his brain trying to remember the last time he’d seen her. Two years ago? Three? Big brown eyes met his, and Lucien saw the amusement flickering in their depths, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Godkiller,” she said, the single word somehow managing to sound melodic on her tongue.

“Hello wife.”

#acotar secret santa 2023 #elucien #acotar #elucien fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #now to go catch up on everyone elses fic

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milesdickpic · 7 months

Text

Halloween with the Ohana | H.C |

This one is within the same universe as HLG!

click here to see the master list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Halloween, besties! Please be safe and have a great night! 🎃

Hangman, Phoenix, and Austin decorated the inside and outside of the house for Halloween. While you, Bradley, the boys, and Leia were passed out in your bedroom.

They were all already in their costumes. Austin was Buzz Lightyear, Phoenix was Jessie, and Hangman was Woody.

Hangman and Austin set up the front yard with webs, spiders, signs, skeletons, ghosts, and pumpkins. The arch way leading into the house was cute and fun for the trick or treaters that would come later on.

Phoenix was hard at work decorating the inside to surprise all of you for when you woke up.

She decorated the kitchen counters with webs and skeletons. She hung spider webs, spiders and ghosts from the ceiling. She bought an illuminating globe to shine little pumpkins and ghosts on the walls.

Hangman and Austin joined Phoenix back inside to help with desserts and games.

Austin created a festive snack board and some worms in dirt cups for the kids.

Hangman made spooky Jell-O shots for the adults and spooky punch for the kiddies.

Phoenix blew up black balloons and put spider webbing on them to decorate the house some more.

After Austin and Hangman finished their contributions to the party, they got together and came up with games. The created the zombie eyeball toss, pumpkin ring toss, and they set up some toilet paper for a mummy game.

You and Bradley finally woke up and got ready for the day. You all had a family theme, Star Wars.

You dressed as Padme, Bradley dressed as Anakin. Bradley got Leia up and got her ready. After she was ready, you and Bradley got the boys ready while Leia got Gunner ready.

Leia was Princess Leia. Luke was dressed as Luke, baby Bradley was dressed as BB-8, and Gunner was dressed as Chewbacca.

Leia jumped around your room in her costume. “Momma I am so excited for trick-or-treating! Can Lukey bear and Braddie come with me?” She smiled up at you as she held onto your legs. You kissed her head. “Of course, my Leia!”

Bradley carried both of the boys down stairs while you, Leia, and Gunner trialed behind.

“WOAH!!” Leia screamed as she saw how the down stairs was decorated. She ran over to Phoenix, Hangman, and Austin giving them all hugs.

Bradley looked around at all the decor. “Damn, you guys really out did yourselves! Are we having a party?”

“Uh, duh, Bradshaw. We have to keep the tradition up.” Hangman laughed as he showed Leia around.

The doorbell rang and Austin went to get it. In came Phantom, dressed as Mr. Incredible, Evelyn as Elasta-girl, Kamalani as Violet, and Kaia as Dash.

Evelyn brought over some more goodies for the party. She made pretzel witch fingers and strawberry ghosts.

Leia screamed as the girls came through the door. “YAY! We all get to go out together!”

As the night went on more of the pilots from work started to show up for the Halloween party. Everyone was enjoying themselves. You, Bradley, Austin, Phoenix, and Hangman brought all the kids out for trick-or-treating.

You and Bradley watched on excitedly as Leia went up to every house with three pumpkins. One for her, one for Luke, and one for baby Bradley.

“Momma! Braddie and Lukey Bears pumpkins are full!” She ran over to you and Bradley with candy falling from their pumpkins.

Bradley took the pumpkins and started to eat the candy from them. You slapped his arm. “What babe? They’re not old enough to eat it yet. We can’t let it go to waste?” He started to laugh.

You all made it back home to out the boys down for a nap. You all rejoined the party.

You and Bradley played some of the games and mingled with your friends.

Hangman and Austin stole Bradley for a game. Everyone made teams of three. There were 6 teams. One team member was going to be a mummy while the other two team members wrapped the one in toilet paper.

Everyone had 45 seconds to make a mummy.

Once the timer started Bradley stood still as Austin and Hangman ran around him with toilet paper.

“WHY DID WE PICK THE BIGGEST DUDE TO BE THE MUMMY?” Hangman yelled as he ran around Bradley.

“You’re the one who wanted him to be it!” Austin yelled as he sprinted in circles around Bradley.

”SHUT UP AND HURRY UP, GUYS!” Bradley yelled at the both of them.

You and Phoenix laughed as you kept track of the time. “10 Seconds!” Phoenix yelled.

“SHIT!” Hangman panicked. “SHUT UP, SERESIN. THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE!” Bradley yelled at him.

“STOP!!” Phoenix yelled. You and her went and judged the mummies. Everyone was covered completely, but Bradley. He still had a human head and his arms were ripping out of the toilet paper.

“Well I know who is getting last place.” Phoenix laughed.

Bradley looked at the guys annoyed, “You guys suck!” He started to laugh. “Now take this TP off of me and re-roll it. I am not wasting this.”

The party went on and you all danced together to the Halloween playlist.

When everyone left, you, Phoenix, and Austin started to clean up the house. You didn’t know where Bradley, Hangman, and Leia were.

The three of you finally found them, Bradley and Hangman passed out under a table with Leia and candy wrappers everywhere.

You placed a kiss on Bradley and Leia’s head. “Like father, Like Daughter. Happy Halloween, Party Animals.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Halloween, my friends! I am sorry I haven’t been posting! And I am really sorry if this sucked 😭 I have been away for a mental health clinic and I have been so drained mentally, physically, and emotionally. I promise to be posting more soon for HLG! Thank you for being here and I love you all so much! Be safe and ALWAYS CHECK YOUR CANDY!! 👻🎃❤️

Halloween Party guests are in the comments 🎃

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