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tonycries · 2 months

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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing.

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h.

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly.

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air.

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome.

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real?

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique.

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable.

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot.

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks.

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo?

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-”

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine.

And then it’s all black.

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact.

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into?

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment.

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful.

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that.

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.”

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-”

“It’s al-”

“I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.”

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about.

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling.

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso.

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye.

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve.

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh.

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again.

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,”

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him.

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that-

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory.

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit.

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you.

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock.

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.”

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock?

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well.

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins.

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him.

All for him.

It’s too much.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.”

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon.

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind.

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand.

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could.

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him.

You.

And then he’s cumming.

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him.

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow.

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course.

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved.

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt.

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time.

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R.

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right?

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture.

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success.

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him.

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm.

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing.

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting.

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue.

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that.

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire.

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously.

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?”

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions.

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples.

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping.

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing.

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips.

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face.

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue.

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water.

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do.

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide.

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need.

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you.

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue.

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs.

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life.

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl.

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips.

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same.

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat.

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later.

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face.

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt.

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well.

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him.

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more.

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty.

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass.

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them.

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him.

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders.

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more.

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him, “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get.

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you.

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut.

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want.

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully.

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually.

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves.

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed.

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.”

Except maybe those.

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

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jaylaxies · 4 months

Text

HARD THOUGHT !

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

cw: smut, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, usage of nicknames.

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

Rival skater!Sunghoon who always keeps you on your toes, never lets you sit down or relax by any means cause you can’t risk him being even one percent better than you, especiallyy with the annual competitions coming up. You hated the smirk he had on his face as he skated past you, doing his usual warm ups on the ice, and soon, it turned into the usual race between you both, and you were the winner this time, by less than a second.

“I see you’re ready to lose this time, Park,” you mocked, your smile vibrant as he scowled, stopping right in front of you, lips pink with cold, head held high despite his unofficial loss.

“Overconfidence is not hot, darling,” he points out. The arena was empty, minus you both—always doing the most to get even a sliver of extra practice in hopes of beating the other one.

“Don’t be a sore loser now,” you coo, and he scoffs, backing you up against the support railings, his cold finger tip on your chin making you look up at him in question, his mouth parted enough for you to get a glimpse of his sharp canines, the dim lights of the arena casting an attractive sort of shadow on his face, making you shut up automatically as you observed him.

“It’s cute that you think you’ll win tomorrow,” he started, “but that won’t happen with me being your rival,” he said, smirking and you rolled your eyes at his own display of overconfidence.

“What if I do win?” You asked, deadpanning, causing him to click his tongue, “then I won’t come close to you, ever,” he whispers, making you look up at him in surprise, “but if I win—I’ll have you as close to me as possible for the whole night,” he proposed.

“What the fuck, Park?”

“Scared you’ll lose?” He chuckles, pushing all your right buttons.

“Fine, we have a deal,” you said, looking at him one last time before skating away with your heart beating faster than ever.

There wasn’t much time to practice, granted the competition took place the very next day. You had won in your respective categories already, leaving the final round, which was the main event. All skaters were lined up for the last race, and the majority of the audience had come to watch the final rundown between you and Sunghoon, which made you want to do better.

“Good luck,” Sunghoon winked your way right before the race started.

You were determined, but Sunghoon’s determination skyrocketed, given that he had to win the bet—to have you in his arms, in his bed.

Which brings you here, right in his cozy bedroom with his gold medal resting on your chest, the cold metal juxtaposing the warmth of your skin, and his body on top of you. He kissed you all over, making you wear the medal he won—winning the bet and driving you back home with him without any delays after the award ceremony.

“You’re so pretty when you just shut up and take it like a good kitten,” he praises, snapping his hips to meet yours in a rushed thrust, making your eyes roll back with pleasure, he rolls his body fluidly as if already in sync with every movement of yours as his cock reached the deepest spots in you, making you feel good no matter how much you tried not to let it show on your face.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped out, only boosting his never ending ego with your whimpers of need, and he complied, “wasn’t planning on to,” he groaned, caressing your cheek gently before wrapping his slender fingers around your neck, fucking you hard as you arched your back and moaned for him, exactly how he wanted you to.

“So pretty,” he murmured, your cheeks heating up at his sudden compliment, paired with no other snarky remark when he pulled out, and then eased back in, his cock twitching just as your pussy clenched around him, signalling that you both were close, however, he wasn’t done with you, not yet.

Because tonight, he was the winner, and you, his reward.

#ria:thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #sunghoon x reader #enha smut #enhypen hard thoughts

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lipglossanon · 9 months

Text

December Winds

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

Priest!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

dedicated to you 💀 anon! 💜 I hope you like it!

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, religious connotations, Leon POV, dirty talk, nipple teasing, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (m receiving 🫣), unprotected sex, creampie, kissing, biting, slight blood

kinda beta read by my friend Rex 💜 (only like 80% so any mistakes are my own 😅 )

title from December Winds by Nox Arcana

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

After Spain, Leon quits. As he tells the president, “I’ve seen enough.” And he meant it. He packs up everything, quietly bids goodbye to the few coworkers he respects and leaves out from Washington DC, praying he’ll never see the place again.

He searches for a job that’s a little less stressful and a lot more reclusive. He stumbles across an online ad looking for a live-in priest for a small rundown chapel buried in the middle of the Appalachian mountains. A quick search on google maps yields the exact results he’s hoping for—there’s nothing around for miles and miles.

It’s a cinch to get ordained online and even easier to order the cassock and Roman collar. He already has plenty of black shirts, pants, and even shoes, meaning it’s no sweat at all for him to look the part by the end of the week.

When he arrives at the small church, there’s a handful of elderly people gathered to give him a short walk through the place. They leave him with plenty of homemade food as well as their phone numbers for the cracked rotary phone in the office in case he needs any help.

The months roll by and slowly bleeds into a couple of years. He always sees the same handful of people at service, sometimes joined by visiting family members, but always a small congregation which is what he prefers. This year hasn’t been any different, that is until a knock rings out in the empty vestibule drawing him up short as he lays out pamphlets for next week's Christmas service.

Pulling open the heavy oak doors, he’s surprised to see a new face. You stand there shivering in the cold, jacketed arms clutching your middle.

“H-hi,” you give him a bright smile despite your chattering teeth, “m-my car’s s-s-stuck in the s-snow and—“

Before you can finish, Leon’s opening the door wider, feeling chill bumps race across his arms as the cold winter air gusts past you and into the church.

“Please, come in,” he steps back so you’ll follow.

Once inside, he shuts and bolts the door closed.

“I’m s-so glad someone’s here,” you laugh.

Leon watches you, expression stoic even though internally he’s cataloging every single thing about you with heavy interest.

He sees your smile tremble a little, your own gaze roving his face.

“I’m s-sorry to bother you,” you rub your hands together for warmth, “if I c-could just make a call, I’ll b-be out of your hair in n-no time.”

You pull your cellphone out with a frown, “I h-haven’t had service in miles.”

Leon glances down at your hands before looking back up into your face, nervousness radiating from your body language.

He turns, talking loud enough for you to hear as you follow behind him, “Phone’s in the office. If you can’t reach anyone, I have a number to a local mechanic who can help tow you out.”

“Thank you so much,” your voice sounds relieved, “I hate bothering you, but I really appreciate the help.”

“Of course, it’s what I’m here for.”

He glances back over his shoulder and sees your gaze wandering around the church, taking in the clean if rough hewn pews and stained glass windows. Your eyes cut to his quickly as if you sensed him watching, giving him a shy smile.

“You have a beautiful church, Mister?”

“Father Kennedy,” he answers, voice a little rougher than intended as you bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Sorry, not really up on my religion,” you laugh a little bashfully, “it’s nice to meet you, Father Kennedy.”

“Likewise,” Leon turns his attention to opening the office door, gesturing for you to enter first.

His eyes slide down your body, taking in your curves, and shaking away the urge to sink his teeth into your soft neck. You walk over to the old rotary phone, something Leon never updated as it still works just fine.

“Oh wow, my grandma had one of these!” you grin at him, “it’s so cute that you kept it for your office.”

That dark urge to bite you flares up in his chest again but he shoves it down. He nods at you instead of saying anything and you turn back to the phone.

Picking up the handset, you frown and click on the dial a few times before setting it back down on the cradle.

“Seems like your phone’s out,” you bite your lip again, looking agitated.

Leon shrugs, “Tends to happen this time of year. No telling when it’ll start working again.”

You nod along and blow out a breath, “Okay, we’ll I’ll head back to the car and see if I can—“

“Stay the night.”

That pulls you up short and he wants to laugh at the wide eyed look you give him.

“Stay here and we can try the phone again. If it doesn’t work, I can walk you to the nearest neighbor and try their phone.”

A soft smile crosses your face and Leon’s hit with an avalanche of impure want purring in his chest.

“Are you sure it’s no trouble? I mean I’d really appreciate it, but I don’t wanna put you out.”

“No trouble, besides I’m here to help those in need,” a crooked grin slips out, “and you seem to fit that description.”

Another shy bite of your lip has him shifting his feet, willing himself not to do anything to you.

“Okay then,” you give him the brightest smile yet, “thank you, Father Kennedy. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

A sudden flash of you thanking him on your knees floods his thoughts and he turns away from you, adjusting his half hard cock through his slacks, never more grateful to wear all black than now.

“Follow me please,” he calls out to you, listening as you quickly walk to catch up.

He also listens as you introduce yourself and explain as to why you’re out here in the first place, basically boiling it down to visiting some family for the holidays. Nodding along, he guides you into his living quarters which just happens to be a bedroom big enough to house a bed and a desk with a few bookshelves.

“It’s so cozy,” you gush, running your hand along some of the handmade quilts and crocheted throws the church parishioners have given him over the years.

“It’s home,” he states simply, moving to the fireplace and stoking the embers into a flame.

“I’m kinda impressed,” you say as you hang up your jacket near the door, “it’s really rare to see someone so young as a priest in these kinds of communities.”

When he only gives you a deadpan expression, you begin to flounder.

“Oh I mean, I grew up near here and so I’m just used to like older— you know what, I just feel like I’m digging a hole for myself,” you drag your palms across your eyes, “it’s just different is all. And either way I'm happy to have met you.”

Leon finally lets his lips quirk up into a half smile, amused at your reactions.

“I understand, it’s just funny to see you try to explain it,” he moves away from the fireplace and grabs a change of clothes, ignoring how your cute pout is making him feel.

“There’s a bathroom just through that door,” he points to his right, your left, “I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans. There’s also some spare toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet.”

He watches as you get flustered when taking the simple sweats and cotton t-shirt.

“Oh yeah, thanks,” you duck your head trying to hide your face and disappear behind the bathroom door to change.

Leon lets out a long breath, trying to ease the tension building up in his chest. The wanting seems to only be getting worse the more time he’s spending with you. It’s like he’s a teenager seeing a skin magazine for the first time.

Has he really been out here that long without seeing a pretty little thing like you? He’s in the midst of his thoughts while removing his collar and unbuttoning his cassock when he hears a soft squeak.

He turns to see your eyes shut tight, hands clenching your bundled up clothes to your chest.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to!”

Leon frowns before looking down to see his bare chest offset by his rosary. Heat washes through him to see you peek again and bite down on your lip hard as you turn away.

“I honestly was on autopilot,” he murmurs, voice rough making him clear his throat, “apologies, I’ll go change in the bathroom while you get settled.”

You gasp as he brushes past you to enter the bathroom. Grabbing onto the sink, Leon stares at his own blown pupils in the mirror.

Get it together. It’s just a woman. A sweet woman. A pretty woman who probably has an equally pretty little cunt—

Shaking his head to clear it, he finishes dressing for bed. As he brushes his teeth, his eyes wander and notice the toothbrush you used sitting off to the side. A sudden flash of possessiveness surprises him leading him to quickly finish up and make his way back into the bedroom.

You startle, standing up from sitting at the edge of the bed.

Hands wringing together, you smile nervously, “Uh I-I wasn’t sure where to sleep? Like I can take the floor—“

He’s shaking his head already interrupting you, “We’ll share the bed. It gets extremely cold at night and it wouldn’t be safe to sleep on the floor.”

You frown over at the bed and look back at him apprehensively, “I can just use the quilts to make a pallet in front of the fire.”

“Please,” he gestures to the bed, “there’s no central heating and it gets deathly cold some nights. Even with the fire, I’d be afraid you would get frostbite.”

“I’ll sleep against the wall,” he softens his voice, “we’ll put pillows between us if you’d like and you can have the edge.”

He watches you bite on that damn lower lip again, wanting it between his own teeth.

Nodding, your eyes seek out his again, “Okay. And we’ll try again first thing in the morning?”

“Of course,” he agrees easily, “I tend to wake early so I can check and wake you if need be.”

Your features melt from concern to thankful, “That’s very sweet of you, Father.”

A hot pulse of arousal makes his dick twitch but Leon ignores it in favor of offering you a slight smile.

“Of course. Shall we?” he nods at the bed.

You climb in after him, settling down under the layers of blankets and quilts.

“I definitely never would’ve guessed I’d start my vacation by sharing a bed with a priest,” you giggle to yourself.

“Unusual to say the least,” he dryly replies, sea dark eyes watching as you turn on your side, back facing him.

You hum softly, shoulders twitching under the shirt and legs swishing under the covers.

“Good night, Father Kennedy,” your soft voice has him gripping the blanket tightly.

“Goodnight.”

It’s driving Leon up the wall with how badly he wants to reach out and touch you. Settling a little more, he listens as your breathing evens out and finds his own eyes slipping shut.

Later in the night, he wakes up to your tossing and turning, feeling you press your ass back against him. He stifles a groan, eyes adjusting to the low light from the fireplace. You keep fidgeting, accidentally rubbing against his chubbed cock until he’s thickening in his sweats. His heavy hand reaches down and grabs you hip, stilling your movement.

“Sorry,” your sleepily mumble, “‘m trying to get comfy.”

He dips his head down to ghost his lips across the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver, “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

He rocks forward, letting his bulge rub against your ass; you whine and press back against him harder.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I promise I didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry, huh?” he dips his tongue into your ear making you whimper, “are you asking for forgiveness?”

His hand grasps your hip and pulls you into a slow rhythm of grinding back against his stiff cock.

“Oh,” you mewl as he kisses the shell of your ear, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not how you ask,” he chuckles, kissing down your neck, “you know better than that.”

You moan as he bites down on the soft skin that’s been tempting him all this time.

“Forgive me, Father Kennedy,” you break the rhythm and grind back against him harder, “I’m so sorry I’m being so bad. God, can’t believe I’m dry humping a priest.”

A smack lands on your ass making you jump.

“We don’t take the Lord's name in vain either,” his low voice slips into your ear, “for that, you get those cute little nipples pinched.”

As you moan, he rolls you over onto your back, slipping an arm around your shoulders so both of his hands can knead and grope at your breasts.

“Pull your shirt up,” he murmurs in your ear, “be a good girl for me.”

You shove the t-shirt up to pool around your neck, hands settling back down to twist in the sheets. His fingers quickly move to circle and pinch your hard nipples.

“Oh, ohhh,” your eyes squeeze shut as he teases and rubs your hard buds, “Father, please.”

He bites your neck again making you writhe and press your breasts up into his hands.

“Please,” you whimper, eyes glimmering at him in the firelight, bottom lip swollen from your own teeth.

“Who knew such a tempting sinful girl would end up in my church much less my own bed,” he rumbles in your ear, grinding against your hip as he teases your nipples.

“Father Kennedy,” you swipe a soft, pink tongue against your lips, making his teeth ache, “shouldn’t we stop?”

“Do you want to stop?” he kisses your jaw, fingers tweaking your nipples sharply making you moan high in your throat.

“No, no, please, it’s so—you’re so hot,” you whine, hips squirming for friction under the blankets, “please, Father, want you so bad.”

“It’s a sin to tempt a priest,” he trails his lips across your neck to suck another mark into your skin, “you’ll have to repent.”

“H-how?” your eyes flutter, trying valiantly to stay open.

He pulls away with a smirk, “You’ll have to use your body in service to the Lord.”

A keening whimper escapes your lips, hands shakily reaching up to run through his sandy blonde hair.

“I-I’ll do anything,” you scratch your nails along his scalp making him groan, “just show me how I need to repent, Father Kennedy.”

He pulls his arm out from under you so he can climb on top of you, settling in between your thighs. Your hands pull his hair as he sucks a hard nipple into his hot mouth. He ruts against the mattress as he suckles each hard bud, nipping at the soft skin of your breasts and leaving marks everywhere.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a pair of tits in my face,” his voice is low, smoky, and he can feel your legs try to press together only stopped by his bulky body.

He takes his time, kissing the areola before running his tongue over your nipple, letting his teeth softly bite down before sucking it further into his mouth. Your hips buck up against his chest as he lays on top of you. He can feel how wet you’ve gotten already, the soft press of your panties against his skin leaving behind a sticky mess.

He pulls back to look up into your dazed eyes, “Let me taste that wet pussy.”

You moan, hands tensing in his hair, “Y-you want to?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t,” he grins, “besides I wanna clean up that messy cunt with my tongue before you get slick all over my sheets.”

He scoots down, dragging his lips across your tummy and dropping kisses as he goes.

“We’ll keep the blankets pulled up so you don’t get cold,” he murmurs as he bites your hip bone before soothing it with his tongue.

You give him a shaky nod, “Okay, Father.”

He bucks his hips at that, feeling his cock leak in his sweats. He feels as you tug the blankets up and when he looks back up he can barely see your face making this seem so illicit and dirty it’s getting him even harder.

He quickly eases your panties down your legs and tosses them on the outside of the blankets before settling between your legs again. Leon lets his instructive thoughts win and bites bruise after bruise into the dough of your thighs, sucking and worrying the skin until you're squirming against his mouth.

He bites his way up to the crease of your thigh then lets his tongue trail across your skin until he’s lapping at your swollen clit. He hears as you moan loudly, thighs falling open wider as he hungrily licks into your cunt.

“You taste like sin,” he groans as he pulls back to spread your pussy open, “so fucking good.”

Pressing his face tightly against your slick coated lips, he flutters his tongue into your soaked hole and grinds his nose against your bundle of nerves. He slips his tongue in and out of your hole before licking back up to your throbbing clit, softly kissing the sensitive bud again and again until sucking it gently into his mouth.

Sweat beads around his hairline as it grows warmer underneath the layers of covers. Leon mouths at your sloppy cunt until you’re moaning loudly as slick coats his chin and lower jaw. Once your thighs start to tremble, he pulls away and crawls back up your body. The cooler air of the room kissing his sweaty skin as your hands scrabble against his shoulders.

“‘M so close,” you whimper as you tug him into a messy kiss, “wanna cum, please Father.”

He clicks his tongue, “You have to work hard for forgiveness,” he presses his thumb down against your chin making your lips part.

“Maybe we should try filling that mouth up first,” he murmurs, watching as your eyes droop.

You nod, running your hands down his broad chest, “Please, wanna see you, too.”

Surprise crosses his features, but he schools it into a crooked smile, “Aren’t you sweet? Take your shirt off for me while I get undressed.”

In no time, he’s kneeling between your parted thighs, completely nude save for the rosary around his neck. When he goes to slip it off, your hand snaps around his wrist.

He watches as the embarrassment wars with arousal as you ask him to keep wearing it. His dick throbs and kicks against his thigh and your eyes go lidded as they take in his thick cock.

“Allow me to show you how sorry I am, Father,” you scratch your nails across his chest all the way down his toned stomach to a happy trail that leads to the thatch of hair above his cock.

Goosebumps travel across his skin when you rub across his hips bones, breath ghosting across the drippy head of his dick.

Your tongue lathes over the slit, circling his tip and teasing under his foreskin before you pull back.

That shy look steals over your face, “Can you sit here?”

You pat the gap in the pillows in front of the headboard. Leon’s lips quirk in amusement and shifts to sit with his back to the headboard and legs splayed out across the bed. You move to kneel in between his thighs, eyes greedily taking in his stiff cock.

He watches as you lean forward, one hand coming up to grip the base of his cock as the other rests on his thigh, and slowly sucks the head of his dick into your mouth. Your eyes shutter with a moan as you take more and more of his cock into your mouth until you choke.

Pulling off with a gasp, your watery eyes blink open staying on his as you sink back down on his cock. His abdomen tenses and he grabs the back of your neck with his broad palm to guide your head.

“No need to rush,” his eyes track your tongue as you lick and kiss all along his dripping slit.

“You taste so good,” you moan as you lick your way down to his balls.

Leon keeps his gaze on you as your wet mouth sucks his balls into your mouth, whining when you can’t fit both at the same time. You smear your face against the spit slick skin of his squishy sac as you nuzzle and suck his taint.

“Oh, good girl,” he parts his legs wider so your mouth can reach him easier.

Your glazed eyes slide shut when you slip your tongue down further to ghost across his asshole. Tongue drifting lazily against it, Leon grunts when you finally lick into him.

“Such an eager girl,” he rasps as you softly eat him out, tongue eagerly rimming his hole.

You sloppily makeout with his hole as his cock weeps precum everywhere; his own heavy hands keep your face buried between his cheeks.

When you finally pull back, your chin’s coated with spit.

“Suck my cock a little more and I’ll fill up that needy cunt,” he pulls your swollen mouth to the weeping head.

Whining, you easily follow along and let his thick cock sink back into your mouth. He luxuriates in the feeling, the feeling of your hot hungry mouth slurping loudly around his dick. You moan and whine around him, rubbing your thighs together for friction. He smirks to see you acting so needy, so obedient in servicing him.

“Up,” he murmurs, grabbing your neck and pulling you off of his cock.

Your hands reach out to dig into his pecs, framing the rosary between your hands as you straddle his lap, his cock snugly pressing against your pussy.

“Oh, Father, please,” you grind down on his wet cock, dragging slick along his throbbing length until your clit’s bumping his tip.

“Poor little lamb,” his hands grab your hips, letting you rock against him.

With the grip he has on your hips, he easily manhandles you onto your back, kneeling between your spread legs, cock leaking all over your wet cunt.

“Oh god,” you mewl, scratching at his chest.

He spanks your clit with his fat cock.

“What did I say about taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

Your pupils swallow any color left in your eyes, “‘m sorry, daddy. I don’t mean to be bad.”

“Fuck,” he growls, slapping your cunt with his cock over and over to make your hips jump, “are you misbehaving on purpose?”

Head shaking no, you wrap your legs around his waist, “No, I didn’t mean— it just slipped out. I‘m sorry, Father Kennedy.”

He nudges the tip of his cock into your hole, making you keen and rock down. The pressure around just the head makes him want to be rougher, meaner with you.

He grins smugly down at you, “You just can’t help it, can you? The wetter this pussy gets the dumber you are, right? What a slut.”

You whine, the heels of your bare feet digging into the back of his legs, goading him to slide deeper into your cunt.

“Yes, I’m your slut, Father,” your hands tug on his rosary making him groan and fuck his dick into your spasming cunt.

His heavy weight drops over your body, earning another low whine followed by your nails scoring a hot trail across his shoulders. He shudders, enjoying that small bite of pain as your eyes roll back in your head, pussy sucking him in even deeper somehow.

“Pretty cunt just needed me buried balls deep in her, huh?” he groans as he pulls out just to sink back into your pussy, “so tight.”

“W-wait,” your voice goes high with sudden realization, “I thought p-priests were banned f-from having sex,” you gasp out, stuttering through Leon’s thrusts.

“Baby,” he coos condescendingly, “you don’t think I was some silly little virgin, did you?”

He boxes you in even more, dropping down on his forearms that rest on each side of your head.

“But I gotta say, you’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever fucked,” he kisses your mouth, “so wet,” he drops another kiss to your lips, “and tight,” and another kiss ending with a rough bite of your bottom lip, “this kitty’s been purring for my dick all night.”

Your head thrashes against the pillow at his words, “Yes, yes, fuck,” tears drip from your lash line, “it’s so good, Father Kennedy.”

Molten heat rushes through his veins at your wanton face paired with that sweet voice. His teeth sink into that plush bottom lip, suckling on it until you tug your head back with a soft cry. It’s swollen and split from his teeth, a small bead of blood welling up only for him to lick it away with a groan.

He licks into your mouth, mixing spit and blood until he’s sucking your tongue past his own greedy lips. His cock slowly ruts in and out of your clenching hole as he kisses you breathless. Your fingers tangle in his rosary, tugging him back to your mouth every time he goes to pull away.

Leon lets himself go; stops trying to control himself and settles into fucking into your warm, wet cunt with harsh skin slapping thrusts. He bites anywhere his mouth can reach, leaving dark bruises or even outright bloody teeth marks behind. His dark eyes keep track of your pleasure as well; if you wince, he makes sure to lathe his tongue across a bite instead of sinking his teeth into you again or fucks his cock shallowly into your pussy instead of knocking against your cervix how he likes.

You reward him with pretty little cries and pleads against his lips; your doughy thighs clasped tightly around his waist as you beg for him to ruin your cunt. He wrings orgasm after orgasm until your body’s spent and you're babbling incoherently.

He keeps you underneath him all night, trading blood tinged kisses as his cock stuffs your squelching pussy. Sunlight begins to stream through the snow tinted windows when he finally manhandles your body to straddle over him once again.

Leon feels like this must truly be what heaven is like. You, seated in his lap as he buries his cock to the hilt in your hot little cunt watching as you grind down against him. Fat dimples between his fingers as he grips your ass tightly, helping you keep rhythm as he bounces you up and down his dick.

“Oh Father Kennedy,” you whimper, “I can’t, I can’t—“

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs, easing your harsh grind into a slow back and forth, “you can give me one more so I can feel that pussy squeeze me so I can put a nice thick load in her.”

His fingers slowly circle and pinch your pudgy clit, letting you rock against him a little faster.

“Oh, I’m-I’m g’nna,” you hiccup a sob, tears dripping from your eyes as he works your exhausted body towards another orgasm.

“Call me, Leon,” he smiles at you, the first genuine one he’s actually offered to anyone in quite a long time, “now cum for me, squeeze me nice and tight.”

“Leon, Leon, I-I’m cumming,” you gasp out, a mewling cry slipping past your swollen lips as your pussy milks Leon’s cock for the upteenth time since this all started.

“Good girl, so good for me,” he groans, letting your climax coax his own from him, grabbing your hips to hold you snug to him.

He growls up at you, cock jumping inside your spasming pussy as rope after rope of sticky cum spurts inside your fluttering walls.

“Leon, oh, it’s so warm,” you whimper, one hand settling on your belly and the other resting on Leon’s heaving chest.

“Fuck,” he yanks you down into a messy, spit filled kiss.

You whine and he softens it, titling his mouth up to press softer kisses to your lips until pulling away. Easing down next to him, you snuggle into his side, burying your face in his neck.

“So am I forgiven now?” you tease, fingers tracing over the beads of his rosary.

“Might need to spend some time with me in the confessional,” he presses a kiss to your hair, “just to make sure it takes.”

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #priest!leon s kennedy #priest!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #priest!leon s kennedy smut #priest!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #fem!reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #priest!leon x reader #💀 anon

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 2 months

Text

Remember Us

Note: I changed the request just a little to make it more authentic to the shows storyline and Gibbs’ character.

“Do you have to go right now?” you groaned, rolling over in bed to hide your face in your fiancés chest. Jethro wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your head.

“Things are moving quicker than anticipated. They want me on the ship asap.”

The thought of Jethro in the middle of a possible terrorist plot made your stomach twist, especially when you knew you still needed to tell him that you two were now expecting, but if you didn’t tell him now and something happened, you’d never forgive yourself.

You decided you would tell him once he was fully awake, waiting until he finished his shower and getting dressed.

“Hey Jet,” you started as he brushed his teeth.

“Hm?”

He rinsed his mouth and walked over to you as you sit on the edge of your shared bed, twiddling your thumbs nervously. He noticed and took your hands in his.

“I’m gonna be fine sweetheart. I’ve done plenty of undercover ops. This one is no different,” he reassured, misplacing the reason for your nerves.

“I know, it’s not that, exactly. I- uh- just don’t know how to say-

“What’s the matter hun?”

“I’m pregnant Jethro.”

It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop as his eyes got a little wider as he blinked bewilderedly.

“You’re what?”

“Pregnant. I’m about 3 weeks along. Just got the results from the doctor yesterday.”

He continued not to say anything and you started getting worried. Worried that he wasn’t ready. You two had talked about having a child but never really planned anything.

“Jet. Can you say something? Please.”

He finally took a deep breath and exhaled, letting your hands go so he could run them through his hair.

“Uh- this is definitely unexpected.”

“I know we’ve been careful but I think it happened that night at the Gala. We were both pretty drunk,” you began rambling but Jethro stopped you.

“Hey, I’m not mad. This is great. We’re gonna be a family.”

You smiled, completely relieved at his reaction and jumped up to give him a hug which he chuckled at.

“I’m gonna have to make room in the basement for my new crib project now. Do you like oak or maple better?”

“You choose babe. It’ll be your present to them,” you said leaned back to give him a kiss.

“Oak it is then.”

————

It was late when you raced through the entrance to the Emergency Department. You would’ve been there sooner if you weren’t literally in the middle of a major surgery and didn’t have anyone to cover for you. Luckily, the hospital that Jethro was brought to was

You spotted the sign in desk and made your way over, pulling out your id.

“I’m here to see Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He should be out of surgery by now.”

The nurse gave you a visitor badge and a quick rundown on how to get to his room. You wasted no time and it took everything in you not to just absolutely sprint down the corridors.

Once you reached the room, you walked in and was not expecting to see the Director of NCIS to be sitting at your fiancés bedside, holding his hand.

“Jenny,” you greeted flatly. She released her grasp and stood up before clearing her throat.

“I was just keeping an eye on him until you arrived. He’s in a stable condition but still in a coma. The doctor said-

“I know. He told me too,” you cut her short. You knew all about Jethro and the Director’s relationship, and for the most part it didn’t bother you because you trusted Jethro but Jenny was another story. You knew she still had some feelings for him and seeing her here with him before you irked you.

“Alright. Well I’ll leave you too then,” she stated before collecting her purse and walking out, your eyes following her all the way. Once the door shut behind her, you stood in the same place she had been in and looked down at his sleeping figure. His head was bandaged and burns adorned parts of his face, pulling at your heartstrings. Your hand found his as you leaned in to place a small kiss on his forehead.

“You said this op was no different Jet. You promised me you were going to be ok,” you whispered, trying not to cry.

For the rest of the night, you sat by his bedside, praying he’d wake up or even just squeeze your hand. The doctor assigned to him had a cot sent up so you could also catch some sleep.

The next morning, you were wakened by the door opening. Picking your head up from the edge of the bed, you winced at the sharp pain in your neck and saw Dr. Mallard standing there.

“Goodness dear, have you been here all night?” he asked, looking over at the untouched cot.

“I couldn’t leave him Ducky. I wanted to be here when he woke up.”

He sighed knowingly and pulled a chair up beside you.

“Well I hope you don’t mind if I join you for a little bit?”

You nodded and he took a seat, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“We’re expecting Ducky.”

You didn’t mind the doctor knowing about the pregnancy. He was one of Jethro’s closest friends and you came to trust him completely as well.

“That’s wonderful Y/N. You two are going to be great parents.”

Looking at Jethro’s chest rise and fall rhythmically, you spoke lightly. “I can’t do it on my own Duck. He needs to wake up. Who’s going to make all the baby furniture and paint the nursery?”

“He’ll wake up Y/N. Just give him some time.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes and took in a shaky breath.

“I hope so Duck. I really hope so.”

————

You were literally gone for less than 5 minutes to grab something to eat when Jethro decided to wake up. You arrived to his doorway just as he got done telling Ducky he didn’t remember him.

“Jethro?” you called softly, everyone turning to look at you. You made your way over to his bedside, fearing the worst.

“Do you remember me Jethro?”

He focused hard on your face before shaking his head no. Not being able to hold back your emotions, you down in sobs and walked out of the room with Ducky following.

“Just give him some more time Y/N. Retrograde amnesia is very common for coma patients that suffered head trauma.”

He pulled you in for a hug and held him tight, hoping he was right.

————

The next couple of days were terrible as Jethro recovered physically but still couldn’t remember who you were or the life you two shared. Somehow he managed to remember Jenny and their time together which only made you feel worse but there was nothing you could do about it. It hurt so badly and had come to the point where you couldn’t take the constant rejection and decided to stay with your mother until he recovered completely.

You received occasional updates from Jethro’s team about his memory state but they never spoke the words you wanted to hear. So the only thing you could do was compartmentalize and keep your mind busy with long hours at the hospital.

The rain and thunder outside reflected your mood as you unenthusiastically put a sandwich together. You had absolutely no appetite but knew you needed to eat for the baby’s health. A knock at the door startled you as you glanced at the microwave that read 2am.

You walked over and saw Jethro standing out on the porch, soaked from the rain. You opened the door quickly, with a smile on your face but it faded when you saw his furrowed brows. He still didn’t remember you.

“I know we have something together Y/N- I get these small flashbacks, small snippets of us together, but never the full memory. The team tells me all about you and how happy you made me. I want that. I want to remember,” he started. “I need your help. Help me to remember.”

You stepped out onto the cold porch barefoot to stand close to him and did the only logical thing you could think of. You took his face in your hands and pulled him in for a deep kiss. If this didn’t work, then you were all out of ideas.

His hands tentatively placed themselves on your waist, slowly deepening the kiss as the butterflies fluttered in your chest. It happened every time you kissed Jethro, even though you’ve known him for years. When you felt his breath hitch, you pulled away and searched his face for an answer.

“Do you remember now Jet?”

Another faltered breath and he nodded his head slowly.

“You’re pregnant,” were his next words, bringing the smile back to your face.

“Yes.”

Ecstatic, you jumped into his arms and he caught you easily.

“Jethro, I missed you so much,” you breathed into his neck, tears falling.

“I know baby. I’m so sorry I took so long. Please forgive me.”

“You don’t have to apologize Jet, it wasn’t your fault.”

He set you back down and tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. Your clothes were damp from hugging him and the thin pajamas you had on did nothing to stop the cold stormy wind from sending a chill through you. You hadn’t realized your mother walking up behind you until Jethro turned his attention towards her.

“Look at you two, kissing and talking in the rain like some cheesy rom-com. It’s like one of Y/N’s dreams,” she teased, making you roll your eyes in slight embarrassment.

“It’s good to see you M/N,” he answered with a smile before giving her a tentative hug, careful not to get her wet.

“You too Jethro. Now both of you get home before you catch a cold.”

You ran inside to grab your purse and shoes before hugging your mom and following your fiancé quickly to his truck. Jethro drove through the streets, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your tummy.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #jethro gibbs fanfiction

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etheries1015 · 10 months

Note

Hi, I hope you're well and I'm sorry to randomly pop in but I finished reading this and I just have to let my sad brain that's obsessed with Lilia go off.

You had Vil and Rook help give Mc a makeover right? What if they found out Mc got stood up. Me personally (I'm biased), I feel like they'd become subtly more protective. Not intrusive, not controlling, but they'd keep a more watchful eye on Mc because they don't want to see them get hurt again.

Okay, okay, but then my brain needs an extra layer added in with angst, so Lilia notices this change in behavior from the Pomefiore beans. At first he's glad Mc has people looking out for them, glad they have a support system. But Rook figures out it was Lilia who stood Mc up and tells Vil. The two start trying to find reasons why Mc shouldn't be around Lilia without telling them that's what they're trying to do directly, just "Oh Lilia’s in there, hey let's go hang out in the courtyard instead!" Subtle diversions.

Lilia starts becoming more aware of their behavior. He tries to convince himself that it isn't a big deal and things were awkward there anyway, maybe distance was the best for him and Mc. However, Silver starts noticing Lilia is more focused on Mc, and starts voicing that he misses their company. Silver has a general understanding of what happened that rainy day, as his father let a bit of it off his chest "Oh, Don't worry, there was just an unfortunate misunderstanding that needed to be cleared up!" Silver isn't taking any shit, he confronts his dad. When Lilia explains that he's too old for romance, much less romance with a human, Silver scolds him about how he never raised him to be that way. Why did Lilia believe so differently than he tended to in this singular instance? What did race have to do with the situation? "If Mc is undeserving of a chance with you, why did you take me in and give me a chance to be in your life?"

Kinda went on a tangent...if none of that made sense I apologize, I'm very sleep-deprived and angsty rn lmao. Anyway, take care of yourself and have a good day 😊

I absolutely love this take!!! I'll give you a little more detail below, however, you outlined it very well.

Part 2 of Lilia X reader Rejection

Time had passed agonizingly slow at ramshackle dorm. Not only had you contracted a cold during your outside endeavors of rain and heartbreak from Lilias rejection, you also couldn't bring yourself to face any other students in the state of misery you were in. This, of course, had not gone unnoticed by a few. Ace and Deuce were naturally worried for you, however Rook and Vil were also left out of the loop with what happened that day raising their worries and causing them to come to you about it.

Coming by ramshackle and seeing you in such a state of misery was truly heartbreaking for the two. You opened the door with puffy eyes and a running nose, hunched over with a blanket covering the majority of your body. Immediately Vil sprung into action, pulling the blanket off of you and preparing a bath while Rook had made soup and medicine for you. Whilst chastising you for your sudden disappearance and sickly state, you had finally broken down and had given them the rundown of all that night's events. You needed support, and luckily the two were more than happy to give it to you. After learning it had been Lilia who stood you up and then humiliate you in front of the gates of the school, by the time you had indeed returned to the school, you noticed the way Vil and Rook would try and steer you away from any places that Lilia could be. They couldn't hide this very well, I mean, you knew all of Lilias's classes and the places he often visited in the school. Who wouldn't be able to notice the way your close friends had tried to distract you from this?

They noticed how standoffish you now were, how your look off in the distance was so distracted, so empty. They were, however, not the only ones to see this change in you. Lilia would steal glances from you from across the room and the halls, and simply thinking to himself you would soon forget your silly feelings and move forward with your smile per usual. He was grateful for Vil and Rook being by your side and figured this would be for the best. Being away from Lilia for the time being while you sorted out your emotions was going to be much better for you, and perhaps you'd be able to find yourself around Lilia like you used to. The time when you stayed up late with him playing video games, how you called him at the most random of times to tell him of your day, the way you would always be surrounded by so much fun. He was excited to get back to that, to the day you forgot your romantic feelings for the fae, and he could enjoy your company once more.

however...those days did not come as he had hoped.

It can be hard to imagine Lilia regretting something he believed so strongly on initially, however, he can't stop the stinging of pain that plagued his heart after seeing you in such disarray. The way you sat in the rain alone the way the rain blended in with your tears and the way your eyes were red...from him. He caused that pain. The bitterness he had felt from your confrontation hadn't gone unnoticed, those around him had begun to realize there was a shift ever so slightly around him. The air had become thicker and his smiles seemed to be far more forced, much like this instance with his son.

"Father," Silver approached the fae, "I haven't seen (y/n) around per usual. Has something happened between the two of you?" He inquired. Silver had rather missed your company, your cooking and the kindness you had shown him. He found you almost like another parental figure, Silver was incredibly fond of you and since the moment you had confided in your feelings for Lilia he was cheering you on from the sidelines in your advances to his father. When you had vanished without as much as a letter, Silver had become anxious and decided it be best to follow up with Lilia. The red eyed fae couldn't bring himself to meet the gaze of his child , avoiding it by staring at the computer screen had had been playing games on with a forced smile painted upon his lips.

"Don't worry, Silver. (Y/n) and I had a simple misunderstanding, and they are simply processing their emotions right now. Sometimes distance is the best cure for such fallouts," he said. The room became silent for a moment that felt like an eternity, before Silver took in a deep sigh and confronted his thoughts to Lilia.

"You rejected them?" He said quietly, Lilias head perking up in slight alarm at the sudden question. The turned on his chair to face the taller human, gaze far more serious than before.

"I see you knew about the prefects growing affections for me?" Lilia asked, attempting to keep his tone at a calm and collected manor. Silver flinched at the look his father was giving him, yet cringing ever so slightly at the idea of confronting his guardian in such a way. He nodded gently and fiddled with his fingers nervously.

"...why?" Silver asked, his gaze seemingly afraid to look into his fathers eyes. He knew he had kept this from him and indeed felt a little bit guilty, however what was he to do? He was certain Lilia returned the feelings, why the sudden change of behavior?

"They're a human, and I'm an aging fae. It simply was not meant to be," Lilia tried to quickly wave off his explanation to his son in hopes the subject would be dropped, yet the words he had used stung silvers heart. With his eyebrows furrowing and the increasingly frustrated feeling bursting in his chest, Silver began to question the fae far more sternly than before.

"What do you mean?" He asked, "So what if (y/n) is a human? They obviously are very important to you. Weren't you the one to tell me that fae and humans should live together in peace despite those differences?" Silver sounded almost desperate, hoping for some sort of explanation from the contrarian that sat before him. Lilia let out a deep sigh, he could tell that his patience for this conversation was running thin.

"Silver. This is...different. Perhaps you don't fully understand seeing as you're human as well, but we live...a very long time. I am a very old age, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to properly handle a romantic relationship, much less with a human who has time to find someone who will grow with them instead of focusing their time on a...dying fae," Lilia hesitated the final words, quickly attempting to dismiss this with a wave of his hand as he turned away from his son, however the silver-haired boy scowled with astonishment at this with a hint of sadness in his shaking voice.

"Yet you took me in as your own, father," Silver pointed out. Before Lilia could respond to his, he continued.

"I thought you raised me to see our races as equals. You gave me the chance to grow as your son, yet you won't give (y/n) the chance to grow as your lover? They care about you very much, that is plain to see as day. I think...those feelings are far more important than the way you see age. You can't throw aside how they feel because they should find another "human" to share their lives with, we both know that is not what (y/n) wants. I'm very sad you are talking like this, Father. I'm disappointed in you, I thought you were wiser than that." Leaving Lilia stunned and wide-eyed, Silver walked out of the room. Lilia let out a shaky sigh as he shook his head and scoffed at the ridiculous situation, his head burying into his hands. A moment of silence rang before his eyes closed and head lay upon his desk, muttering beneath his breath;

"I miss them..."

Check out my masterlist!

#twisted wonderland #Twisted wonderland x reader #Twisted wonderland headcannons #Lilia #Lilia x reader #Lilia vanrouge #Lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge headcannon #Lilia x yuu #Lilia vanrouge x yuu #Twisted wonderland fanfics #Twisted wonderland fanfiction #Twst #Twst x reader #twst headcannon #twst lilia #lilia twisted wonderland #Lilia x mc #twst headcanons

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clockwayswrites · 1 year

Text

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 2

WC: 757 CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Doubt, Jack and Maddie Fenton's A+ Parenting Masterpost

Worse than— no, not worse than. Nothing was worse than being constantly forgotten by everyone he cared about. Nothing was worse than knowing he was only worth knowing when he’d died. An issue was that Danny still had the same need to protect people even without the ghosts attacks. Day in and day out Danny felt an aching hurt in his chest at not doing anything to help. Working as a receptionist at a slightly rundown construction firm wasn’t the worst job, but it felt like it was slowly killing him. It felt like his core was shriveling up.

Danny knew he needed to make a change. At a loss of what to do and short on options, Danny had enrolled in the paramedic course at the local community college. He excelled at it.

It turned out all those years of patching up his own wounds gave him a pretty good head start on his classmate. So good, in fact, that his instructor recommended him for a job in Central City when he graduated with honors. It was bittersweet to know that when he wasn’t constantly harnessed by ghosts, he could actually do really well at school.

His parents missed his graduation.

His move to the city was done alone (his rented u-haul filled with what he could cram into it) and with a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. It felt like a second death leaving the only home he had ever known behind.

It felt like relief.

(He didn’t know which was worse.)

Central City was better and worse than he expected. The constant noise rattled him until he got used to ways to combat it: earphones, white noise machines, a cheesy little indoor fountain. The anonymity soothed him— no one paid attention to him in the city. Slowly he carved out his place.

He was part of the city’s emergency response team. Their primary job was working to secure the city and her people during villain attacks. Secondary to that they did follow up with victims, held community events to spread awareness about everything from emergency prep to smoke detectors, and helped with rebuilding efforts.

It was rewarding work and Danny’s core sang for it.

It was a little exhausting to have to run right into a villain attack on his day off though. Good thing he always kept a mini kit in his bag. What sort of emergency response team member would he be if he didn’t listen to their own advice? It was a really nice little kit too— ultra compact but it contained gloves, pipettes of water, disinfectant, a range bandages, a suture kit, a snap light, and even a shock blanket. Danny added a few extra gloves to it too.

As he ran towards the sounds of disaster, Danny felt a brisk wind breeze past him— and then blow back again— as the Flash (one of them, Danny hadn’t been around long enough to tell them apart) backtracked.

“Kid—” Oh, it was the older one then. “—you should be heading the other way. Lummox is up ahead—”

“I know,” Danny snapped, not stopping moving. “I’m a field medic. I’m on my way to help, and you’re not going to stop me.”

The Flash seemed at a loss for what to say for half a beat. “Okay. Sure. Want a lift?”

“What?”

“I can get you in a second— literally— but I’m leaving you on the edge of it all.”

It would be convenient. And it’s not like he couldn’t trust Flash. Danny slowed to a stop and shrugged. “Sure, onward, Seabiscuit.”

“Who?”

“Famous race horse? Cause you’re going to carry me? Never mind. Just pick me up, dude.”

Danny ignored the look he got from the Flash and clung on for dear half-life. Fuck the Speed Force felt weird. He was pretty sure it was less than a second to get there, and Danny didn’t quite stick the landing, but he got his feet under him fast enough to rush in to help.

Eventually Danny required an extra vest from the team that came in and just blended into the background of other medics. It wasn’t a bad day— no lives lost and all the injuries were relatively minor. (He even got some overtime payment, which he wasn’t going to sneeze at). Danny figured it was just part of being in the city, occasionally running into villains and heroes even off the clock.

He didn’t expect it to really happen again.

(He should have known to never have expectations.)

-----

AN: Still moving along with this odd little thing! It's been fun to write a Danny in a very different place than my other fics- mentally and physically! Just to be clear btw- Danny is in a bad place at the start of this fic which is putting a negative light on how he's seeing things. Sam and Tucker just... moved on with their lives. Those sort of high school friends you liked a lot but drift away from. Without the history of ghost stuff to bind them, it was just part of life to them. Danny just has a different memory history so it hits harder for him/feels harsher.

Stay delightful, darlings!

Due to the new post editor and shadow banning, I'm no longer tagging people! To be notified, subscribe to this post:

#dp x dc #Danny Fenton/Wally West #eventually #Danny Fenton x wally west #abson #quick death

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invalidstories · 2 months

Note

Helooo!

I read your snippet of the Villain’s Lair” and I really loved it!

I was wondering if you could please continue that! It’s really interesting and I’d love to read that again!

Thank you!

Have a great day! Don’t forget to keep yourself hydrated!🤍👍

Villain's Lair (Part 2)

Thank you for reminding me to pay attention to my neglected water bottle. 🥰 I'm really glad you like the snippet, here is part 2 of it. I don't know if this is exactly what you looking for but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, disownment, mentions of being neglected, past trauma, violence, restraints

Part 1

In the dimly lit alley behind the rundown building, Villain gently lowered the henchman's child to the ground, their small frame trembling with fear. The child's tear-streaked face tugged at Villain's heartstrings, reminding them of their lost innocence.

"Everything is alright, little one," Villain murmured softly, crouching down to meet the child's gaze. "You're safe now. We'll stay here until your father comes for you."

The child nodded, clutching onto Villain's hand with trembling fingers. The moment didn't last long as Villain spotted the other villain hurtling towards them, with a dangerous smile playing at their lips. With a reassuring squeeze of the child's hand, they straightened up, their mind already racing ahead to the next task at hand.

Villain prepared to confront their enemy, they braced themselves, ready to fight the other villain in a desperate bid to protect the child and their secrets.

But before Villain could move, a figure darted forward with speed, intercepting the threat with a swift, well-placed blow to the head. The other villain crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Villain?" the voice spoke, surprise evident in their voice.

Startled, Villain squinted to see Hero standing at the entrance, their expression a mix of surprise and suspicion. The villain's muscles tensed, ready to defend themselves against the hero's attack.

But to their surprise, Hero made no move to attack. Instead, they approached cautiously. "What are you doing here?" Hero demanded.

Villain hesitated, weighing their options. Should they reveal their true intentions to Hero, or stick to their carefully constructed facade? They decided to be honest, as Hero already knew about the child.

"I was just dropping off henchman's child," Villain replied, their tone guarded. "Making sure they're safe."

Hero turned to face Villain, their gaze piercing. "Enough games, Villain," they said with a firm voice. "You just pulled up a new version of yourself from the past few days and decided that it is perfectly normal. People don't change overnight."

Villain sighed, "You're acting like we're best friends now, and you've known me for so long that you know what I'm like. Why does it concern you, you should probably be concerned about how regularly you wash your dirty suit."

"Number one, I wash my very clean suit every day," Hero scofted. "I just want to know what's really going on, and what's driving you to do all of this?" They asked.

Villain hesitated, caught off guard by the concern in Hero's voice. For a moment they considered brushing off the inquiry with a dismissive remark, but something in Hero's gaze gave them pause.

With a heavy sigh, Villain relented, their shoulders slumping in resignation. "It's... kind of complicated, and you probably won't believe me," they began, their voice tinged with regret. "You see, this started before I became the villain."

As Villain recounted their past to Hero, the weight of their childhood burdens seemed to grow heavier with each word. "I was forced into this life," they confessed, their voice wavering. "My parents were cruel and abusive, pushing me into a world of crime even though I didn't want to. You'd find it funny that I wanted to become a doctor."

Hero's heart ached at the sympathy, trying to understand the depth of pain and suffering that Villain had endured. They listened carefully as Villain described the beatings and the threats that were a part of the harsh environment of their upbringing.

"My parents disowned me when I was still a teenager," Villain continued, their voice laced with bitterness. "They saw me as nothing more than a tool to be used and discarded, and I was cast out into the streets with nothing to my name."

Villain told them how they found solace in the only world they knew, the world of crime and villainy. It was a familiar territory to them, and all they have ever known.

"But as I continued, I realized that I didn't want to continue the cycle of violence and abuse that had defined my life," Villain confessed, "I wanted to make a difference, and ensure that others didn't suffer the same fate."

Driven by a newfound purpose, Villain took it upon themselves to protect those who were vulnerable and powerless, such as children of their henchmen. They couldn't change the past, but they could shape the future, ensuring that no child would be forced into a life of crime and despair as they had been.

"And so, I did what I can to help them. I may still be known as a villain, that's probably all I'll ever be, but at least these kids will have a choice," Villain explained, their voice tinged with sadness as they glanced at the child.

As Villain finished their story, Hero felt embarrassed, "I... I always thought you were just a ruthless murderer," Hero admitted, "And so cold, always so... unfeeling."

"It's reasonable," they replied, their voice measured. "That's the image I've been trying to create over the years – it's how I protect myself from being betrayed or attacked."

Hero nodded. "I'm sorry," they murmured, "I should have realized that."

The criminal didn't reply, or meet their gaze. Villain's expression was neutral again, transforming them into their former self except for the hand holding the child's.

The silence was interrupted by a soft groan from the shadows. Turning, they saw the other villain they had subdued moments ago beginning to stir.

"We should tie them up before they wake," Hero suggested.

Villain nodded in agreement, their cold demeanor returning as they approached the unconscious villain. They bound the villain's hands and feet, ensuring they posed no immediate threat.

As looked at the villain tying knots, Hero couldn't help but think back to the conversation they had with Villain. "This one," Hero began cautiously, "they mentioned something about knowing that you were trying to keep the children of your henchmen out of your activities. And that's why they were after the child."

Villain paused. "I suspected as much," they replied, their voice quiet.

Hero's mind raced with possibilities. "We need to find out who else knows about this," they said, gesturing at the unconscious villain, "And I'll bring him back to the headquarters."

Villain nodded in agreement, their expression changing into something unreadable.

As they separated in different ways, they learned that despite their differences, they were united in their desire to protect the innocent and ensure a better future for those who hadn't been so lucky.

"The past cannot be changed. The future is yet in your power."

Masterlist

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its-vannah · 1 year

Text

Angel of my Eyes | Graham Dunne x Reader

Request from anonymous: gasps NFWMB by Hozier and a graham x reader fic inspired by it falls to knees. reader brings out the better in him and it feels like only the two of them in the world

Warnings: Profanities

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Eddie: So much happened when we moved to LA. The band started getting bigger, we got our own house... We were on top of the world.

Graham: Even if we never went anywhere in LA—if the label hadn't picked us up or we hadn't gone on tour—it wouldn't have been for nothing. I mean, I met my wife in LA.

There were times when Graham missed the feeling of being back home in Hazelwood. While LA was his home now, a part of him longed to go back to his childhood bedroom and just keep dreaming. Keep dreaming about the band getting bigger; only waking up to the smell of his mom's cooking.

But he was an adult now and he had made his choice. He never really regretted moving to the west coast, he just missed the feeling of home.

He was in the middle of creating a new riff to suggest to Billy when they practiced later when he saw a bright yellow bike cruising down the road. It stood out against the rundown house across the street and the vast amount of trees.

What caught his attention even more was the woman on the bike. With an orange headband holding back her hair from getting caught in her face, sunglasses perched on her nose—a permanent smile plastered to her face as she peddaled. She looked like an angel.

As soon as she was out of his view, Graham raced to his desk, shuffling through the drawer until he found a pen and piece of paper. With you on his mind, he started writing.

Graham: I wrote "Angel in my Eyes" in under an hour. But when I pitched the idea to Billy, he shut it down; told me the song was shit. I sold it a few weeks later and it climbed the charts to number two.

Billy: I always hated that damn song.

Graham: I waited weeks to see her again, but I never saw her riding by our street. I had almost given up hope. I'm glad I didn't.

Graham was on his way to the grocery store to grab any odds and ends he needed around the house. That's when he saw it: a bright yellow bike chained to a bike rack.

Graham: I must've waited outside by her bike for a half hour before she came outside. Looking back on it, I probably looked like some sort of creep.

Y/N Dunne, wife of Graham Dunne: I was walking back to my bike when I see a grown man sitting on the ground by my bike. My first instinct was to go back inside, but something in me decided against it.

Graham: I don't think she saw me at first, cause she was just humming a song. But it wasn't any song, it was my song.

"Can I help you with something?" You asked, holding two bags of groceries in your hands.

His eyes widened, scrambling to get up off the ground, "That song—that song you were humming—"

"'Angel in my Eyes'?"

"I wrote that song."

You forced a smile on your face, unsure of whether you should believe him, "Congratulations."

"About you, I wrote that song about you."

You paused, "We've never met before."

"This bike," He gestured to the bright yellow bicycle behind him, "I saw you riding it down my street—it inspired me to write the song."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

His chest was heaving now as he rambled, "You were wearing an orange scarf to tie your hair back, sunglasses, a white blouse, and jean shorts."

"And my shoes?"

He hesitated, suddenly flustered, "I—"

"I'm just messing with you, Graham."

His eyes widened, "You know my name?"

"Everyone in the United States knows your name."

"So you believe me?" He asked, "That I wrote that song about you?"

You shrugged, "You can tell me more about it over dinner."

"Over dinner?"

"Well, you do think I'm an angel who fell from heaven," You teased, "That is how the song goes, right?

Graham nodded eagerly, "What time are you free?"

Y/N: If he hadn't been a well-known, respected musician in LA, I would've turned him down. I mean, usually when people stand outside waiting for you despite having never met you, you run in the other direction. But he was different.

Graham: I still can't believe she agreed to it.

Y/N: He was so wound up, he didn't even ask me my name until our first date.

Graham: I just called her "Angel" until she pulled out her license and showed it to me.

Y/N: I figured it gave him a basic run down of everything about me. My name, my last name, eye color, birthday, height. That way, we could skip that part of the conversation and move on to something else.

Graham: It took me a minute to realize what she was doing.

Y/N: It takes him a minute with certain things, but it was kind of endearing.

You met the band a week or so after your first date. After that night, Graham swore up and down he was going to marry you.

To his delight, you got a long with everyone great—even Billy.

Y/N: Billy wasn't easy to get along with, but I knew that if Graham and I were going to last, we had to be cordial to each other.

Billy: She meant a lot to Graham, still does. I didn't want to ruin that for him.

Graham: It was rare for my brother to get along with anyone, especially outside of the band.

Karen: Y/N was—and still is—the best thing that ever happened to him. He started standing up for himself during rehearsals. Billy used to just tell him what to do and he'd do it, but Y/N encouraged him to speak his mind.

Eddie: God, Y/N really was an angel. Graham wasn't such a pushover for Billy anymore, it was fucking great.

Y/N: He had so many ideas that were shut down because they weren't Billy's. I told him that if he wanted to be taken seriously, he needed to take a stand. To my surprise, he did.

Graham: Once you have a girl like Y/N, you don't let her go.

Weeks passed by that turned into months. Through it all, you were by Graham's side, supporting him in any way you could.

You took time off of work to go to a few of their concerts out of state. You were witness to the end of Daisy Jones and The Six.

Y/N: When you watch someone pour their heart and soul into something their passionate about—and it ends—it breaks your heart.

Graham: I don't know that I would've gotten through it like I did if it hadn't been for Y/N. I would've gotten down on my hands and knees and begged everyone to stay together. But I accepted it.

Y/N: I was proud of him.

Graham: She made me a better person.

Graham proposed to you a month after the band split up. You said yes before he even got out the full question.

When the wedding rolled around, he decided to invite everyone from the band. Everyone showed up except for Daisy. Eddie just made sure to keep his distance from Billy to avoid any fights.

Y/N: I remember our wedding like it was yesterday.

Graham: It seems like a lifetime ago. We've been married for half my life—I really don't know how to live without her.

Y/N: During the vows, he quoted a few lyrics from "Angel of my Eyes". I had to hold myself together.

Graham: I could've talked about her for hours, but if I did, the ceremony never would've ended.

Y/N: I'll never forget the lines he said, "You're the angel of my eyes, and I'm the devil in disguise/I gave you my heart, you gave me the world/My angel, where have you been all of my life"

Graham: She still tears up about it to this day, nineteen years later.

Y/N: How could I not?

Graham: Every song I wrote from then on was about her. I owed her everything—she made me who I am.

Y/N: When he looks at me, I feel like I'm the only other person in the world.

Graham: It feels like we're the only people in the world.

Warren: It was awkward as hell watching them eyefuck each other whenever they were together. Get a room, damn.

#fanfiction #daisy jones and the six fanfic #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six #dj&ts #djats #graham dunne x y/n #graham dunne x reader #graham dunne x you #grahamdunne #graham dunne #grahamdunnexreader #taylor reid #taylor jenkins reid

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yoonavii · 7 months

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

Rich bachelor! Law x Reader

Description: On your courthouse wedding day, hope and determination fueled you, but your fiancé's absence and the revelation of a secret girlfriend shattered your dreams. In that moment of heartbreak, Trafalgar Law, an eligible and wealthy bachelor driven by the need for his family's inheritance, appeared. He offered a life-altering proposition: marry him in exchange for financial security. You immediately accepted without hesitation, unaware of the thrilling twists and turns awaiting you on the unexpected love journey.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

As you held onto Law’s arm, your mind raced with the sudden whirlwind of events. The judge’s complaint about being off schedule echoed in your ears, and you felt a twinge of guilt for causing the disruption. Law, standing beside you with an air of confidence, seemed unphased by the judge’s irritation. You glanced at him with gratitude for his support, and he turned to you with a soft smile. “Don’t worry,” he reassured you. “We can wait for the judge’s lunch break to be over.” The judge, his impatience evident, departed from the room, and you were left alone with Law. His determination to make this courthouse wedding special for you was both surprising and touching. He leaned closer and said, “I’ll arrange for a hair and makeup stylist. You should look your best for this occasion.” You were about to decline once more when he interrupted with a chuckle, “Trust me, you’ll feel much better after a little makeover. Besides, my father might arrive any moment. I want you to make a good impression.”

The mention of meeting Law’s father so soon after this unexpected turn of events did indeed stress you out. You nodded reluctantly, realizing that this day was taking a trajectory you couldn’t have predicted, and you would need to face it with newfound resolve. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to strike up a conversation with Law while you waited for the judge’s lunch break to end. “What’s your father like?” you inquired. Law sighed, his expression reflecting a mix of emotions. “He can be a bit much,” he admitted, “and overly excited at times.” There was a hint of weariness in his voice as he spoke about his father. As you absorbed this information, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nervousness about meeting him, especially without some kind of complete rundown about how to approach and property address him.

The arrival of the hair and makeup artist was a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of emotions you had been experiencing. She got straight to work, using her skills to enhance your features and create a stunning look that left you feeling surprisingly gorgeous, despite the chaotic circumstances.While you were in the midst of your transformation, a tailor arrived with a suit for Law. As he changed into the well-fitted suit, it became apparent just how effortlessly he wore it. The suit complemented his tall and slender frame, accentuating his already striking appearance. Despite the stress and uncertainties that had marked the day, the transformation for both you and Law added a touch of elegance and formality to the occasion, making you feel more prepared for the impending meeting with his father.

As you and Law continued to prepare for your courthouse wedding, you suggested the idea of creating a love story for how you met, something that would give a sense of depth to your unexpected union. Law considered the idea and nodded in agreement.

"I like that," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "So, how did we meet?"

You thought for a moment and then decided on a story that seemed fitting for the circumstances. "Well," you began, "I'm a part-time barista at a cozy little coffee shop. You could have been one of my regular customers, and over time, we struck up conversations, became friends, and eventually, our friendship blossomed into something more. Law chuckled softly, seeming to appreciate the simplicity and charm of the story. It was a narrative that would give your courthouse wedding a touch of romantic serendipity, despite the unusual circumstances that had brought you together.

As Law’s father arrived, his tall and elegant figure immediately commanded attention. He was dressed impeccably, showcasing his wealth and sophistication. His joyful greeting to Law, filled with genuine paternal affection, brought forth a subtle reaction of embarrassment and annoyance from Law. To everyone’s surprise, Law’s father had a bright and colorful personality that radiated warmth and energy. Law, with a hint of pride in his voice, took the opportunity to introduce you as his fiancée. Then, with a charming smile, he continued with a white lie, “Dad, I’ve been looking forward to introducing y/n to you for a long time.” You played along with the plan, offering a polite greeting to your new father-in-law. However, you were not prepared for the next unexpected twist. Instead of a formal handshake, Law’s father surprised both you and Law with a warm and heartfelt hug. His genuine enthusiasm and acceptance in that moment were palpable, making you feel surprisingly at ease.

After the hug, he turned his attention to you, inquiring about your parents and assuming they wouldn’t want to miss your special day. You hesitated briefly before revealing, “I’m an orphan sir. I don’t have a family,” Your revelation took both Law and his father by surprise. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to a mixture of sympathy and understanding. It was clear that your words had struck a chord, and the room fell momentarily silent as they absorbed the unexpected truth about your background.

Breaking the silence, Law’s father spoke, his voice filled with comforting warmth as he addressed you directly, “My dear, I’m truly sorry to hear that. But from this day forward, you’re a part of our family. You’ll have us by your side.” His heartfelt words brought a genuine smile to your face, and you felt a warmth spreading in your heart. You had never experienced the presence of a true father figure or the sense of belonging that this unexpected turn of events had brought into your life.

———-

The judge, with a sense of solemnity, began, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness the union of y/n and Law in marriage. In the presence of these witnesses and before the law, you have expressed your desire to be united in matrimony. Please proceed with your vows.”

You and Law, standing side by side, then exchanged heartfelt vows based on the story you both created. You began, your voice filled with sincerity “Law, our story began in the most unexpected way, as if fate had conspired to bring us together. You walked into my life as a regular customer, but little did I know that those daily encounters would lead to something as beautiful as this. I promise to cherish the memories we’ve created and the love that has blossomed between us. With you, I see a future filled with joy, laughter, and endless cups of coffee. I vow to be your partner in all of life’s adventures, just as our story has been an adventure of its own.”

Law, with a hint of a smile, continued, “Our story is unlike any other, and that’s what makes it so special. Y/n, from the moment I walked into that café and met you, I knew there was something unique about us. Today, as we stand here ready to embark on this journey together, I promise to honor the story we’ve created. I’ll be the one who’s always there to order that cup of coffee, to share conversations that brighten our days, and to be by your side in all of life’s twists and turns. I look forward to every chapter of our story, knowing that it will be as extraordinary as the day we met.”

With the exchange of vows complete, a sense of anticipation filled the courtroom. The judge, with an air of authority, directed both you and Law to sign the marriage license. As you both approached the document, the room was filled with a quiet sense of purpose.Carefully gripping the pen, you watched as Law signed his name beside yours. It was a tangible symbol of the commitment you were making, an agreement that transcended the circumstances that had brought you together.

With the signatures now adorning the marriage license, the judge, a warm and reassuring smile on their face, declared, "By the authority vested in me by the laws of this state, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The room seemed to hold its collective breath, and a sense of satisfaction washed over those present. This unconventional courthouse wedding had turned into a unique and unforgettable experience for everyone involved.

The judge's voice continued, "You may seal this union with a kiss."

Law turned to you, his eyes locking onto yours, and in that moment, unspoken emotions passed between you. With a nod of agreement from you, he leaned in, closing the distance between you both, and kissed you on the lips. It was a moment that went beyond the legalities of the situation, carrying with it a sense of genuine connection and the promise of a unique journey ahead. As Law's father clapped happily and the judge's words still hung in the air, the atmosphere in the courtroom remained charged with a sense of significance. However, before Law's father could express his happiness verbally, his phone rang, momentarily diverting his attention. He excused himself politely and stepped away from the wedding scene to answer the call, leaving you and Law alone for a moment.

Seizing this opportunity, Law leaned in slightly and, in a confidential tone, shared a revelation that left you stunned. "My father is the CEO of Corazon Inc., one of the most successful corporations in the New World." The weight of this revelation settled upon you, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and curiosity about the world into which you had just married. The significance of your union had taken an unexpected turn with this newfound knowledge.

Law, ever the practical planner, continued, "I'll need your address and phone number so that I can make arrangements for you and your belongings to be brought to our house." With a nod of understanding, you provided Law with your contact information, your thoughts racing with questions and possibilities. You couldn't deny the sense of awe and trepidation as you realized the transformative nature of this moment in your life, married to a man whose family's influence extended to the highest echelons of success and power in the New World.

The transition from day to night was marked by the arrival of a sudden and intense thunderstorm that swept through the city. Rain poured relentlessly, creating a backdrop of soothing yet turbulent noise against the cityscape. Seeking a break from the packing, you found yourself gazing out of your apartment window, drawn to the storm's fierce beauty. Through the rain-streaked glass, you noticed a sleek, high-end SUV parked elegantly at the curb. It was the vehicle Law had arranged to transport your belongings to your new home. The sight of that luxurious SUV, gleaming even in the midst of the storm, was a reminder of the extraordinary circumstances that had brought you here. Your life was poised for a significant transformation, and this surreal day was evidence of that.

Turning away from the window, you returned to your task with renewed determination. The remaining boxes, filled with your cherished possessions, required careful packing and sealing. You worked methodically, the sound of the storm outside serving as a soothing backdrop to your preparations. Each box represented a piece of your past, and you were now on the threshold of a new life as the wife of a man whose family's wealth and influence held the promise of a future you had never imagined.

——

The rhythmic patter of rain against the window intensified as Sarquiss, your ex-fiancé, stepped into your apartment. His presence seemed to cast a shadow over the room, and you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that accompanied his unexpected visit. As you reluctantly allowed him inside, the air thickened with unresolved tension. “Get your things and leave,” you instructed, your voice carrying the weight of past betrayals. Sarquiss, seemingly indifferent to the gravity of the situation, began collecting his belongings with a nonchalant air. The atmosphere grew strained with each passing moment, the anticipation of a confrontation palpable.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Law, your newly revealed husband, ascended the apartment stairs. His footsteps, muffled by the persistent rain, marked his approach. As the argument between you and Sarquiss intensified, Law’s figure appeared in the doorway, an umbrella in hand. His entrance was a study in contrast — the imposing figure of Law in a well-tailored suit against the backdrop of your modest living space. The room seemed to shrink in the face of his presence. “I believe you’re Sarquiss,” Law’s voice cut through the rising tension, his tone firm and unwavering.

Sarquiss, visibly taken aback, replied with a sardonic smirk, “And who might you be, the replacement?” “I’m her husband. Law Trafalgar,” Law stated, his name carrying a weight that echoed authority. Sarquiss, attempting to regain his composure, quipped, “Well, you certainly upgraded.”

Law, unfazed, turned his attention to you with a subtle yet possessive familiarity. “Alright n/n, I’ll arrange for movers to complete the transfer of your belongings to our new house. No need to stay in this place any longer.” A sense of relief washed over you, grateful for Law’s intervention. But before you could fully process the moment, Law’s gaze focused on Sarquiss. In a calculated move, Law gently lifted your chin, pressing a kiss to your lips. It was a deliberate act, a statement that left Sarquiss seething with anger. Sarquiss, attempting to mask his wounded pride, sneered, “You’re enjoying your upgrade, huh?” Law, his expression unyielding, responded, “You should leave now, before things become less pleasant.”

The room hung in suspense as Sarquiss, fueled by resentment, prepared to deliver a final verbal blow. However, before he could utter a word, two imposing figures, resembling security personnel, entered the apartment at Law’s silent command. Law, maintaining his poised demeanor, issued a final ultimatum, “Leave on your own, or my security will assist you in a less pleasant manner.” Sooner than later, the departure of Sarquiss brought a palpable sense of relief to the room. The atmosphere, previously fraught with tension, now seemed to settle. You turned to Law, gratitude evident in your eyes as you expressed your thanks. “Thank you for handling that,” you said, the words carrying a weight of sincere appreciation.

Law, maintaining his composed demeanor, nodded in acknowledgment. “It’s taken care of,” he replied succinctly, his gaze steady. Wanting to offer a tangible token of gratitude, you remembered your homemade applesauce—a recipe passed down through generations. A faint smile graced your lips as you extended the invitation. “I make a mean applesauce. Care for a taste?” The warmth in your voice carried a hint of hospitality. Law, with his customary reserve, initially declined the offer. However, undeterred, you persisted, your insistence reflecting a desire to bridge the gap between the tumultuous events that had just transpired and a newfound connection. “I insist,” you said, presenting him with a small bowl of the homemade delicacy.

There was a moment of hesitation in Law’s expression, a subtle pause that intrigued you. Eventually, he accepted the small bowl, his gaze briefly meeting yours in a quiet acknowledgment. As Law took a spoonful of the applesauce, a flicker of surprise crossed his features. The unexpected blend of flavors seemed to catch him off guard. “It’s good,” he admitted, the words carrying a genuine note of appreciation.

A small smile played on your lips as you observed his reaction. The act of sharing a simple bowl of applesauce became a nuanced exchange—an interlude between the storm of emotions that had just unfolded and the quiet beginning of a connection that defied the expected. As Law finished the last spoonful of the homemade applesauce, he set the empty bowl aside and turned his attention to you. With a decisive tone, he instructed you to gather all that was important, emphasizing the need for a swift departure to your new home.

Acting promptly, you retrieved your to-go bag containing essential items, slipping on a pair of practical crocs for the impromptu journey. As you hurriedly followed Law out the door, one of the security personnel, a silent figure in the background, took the initiative to hold your bags for you. Grateful, you expressed your thanks, and the security personnel responded with a simple hum and nod. Descending the stairs, the sound of your steps echoed in the stairwell as Law provided a unique instruction that left you momentarily perplexed. "Don't get on any social media platforms until the next day. " he advised, the cryptic nature of the statement adding an element of mystery to the unfolding events. His words lingered in the air as you descended further, the rain outside still a gentle backdrop. The city, cloaked in the soothing embrace of the evening storm, felt like a canvas on which a new chapter of your life was about to be painted. With each step, you couldn't help but wonder about the secrets and surprises that awaited you in the newly established home you and your newly husband will reside in.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

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fanfictionvibesworld · 3 months

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(A/n: Your wish is my command 😊. sorry for the long wait This kept deleting on its own.)

Words: 1.7k

So different but eerily so similar

Warning: some blood and violence

Running

That is all what seems to happen often these days, well mostly today and even a couple days before that.

Why were you running? people may ask. Well.... How are you supposed to explain to people that currently you, your friend sister Irene, and father Burke are currently running away and trying to defeat a 7 foot tall demonic nun that was in the first place called from the monastery itself calling uponit?

That's what I thought

The air was cold but heavy. it was to the point that anywhere in the monastery seemed to suffocate you which to be honest, it probably is. But all of this didn't stop sister Irene, father Burke, nor me from giving up so easily. To be honest when sister Irene was comfortable enough with me and told me about her sightings with this demonic nun I couldn't help but be curious about the creature, since I have never heard of such a thing, but.... I felt a feeling of familiarity with the title "demonic nun". Ever since was little my family was always so skittish nuns or anything that included religious which always puzzled me but I didn’t speak much of it.

When I told my family that I was to become a nun I can definitely tell the air around them intensified. It's like they know something I don't...... I seem to be the only person who doesn't know....

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me as the wind was whipping past me. I somehow end up outside the monastery in the cemetery, alone. I started to slow down as l've actually never been in this part of the monastery from the outside.

My thoughts were running with how I could help defeat this demonic entity as the overwhelming of the situation as well as the seriousness, on what could happen, or the situations that will come more with it could make anyone pull there hair out. I was now just walking the cobblestone path as I looked around the cemetery taking in the surroundings. I saw that there was a rundown fountain in the middle of the cemetery.

It wasn't too big, nor small as it stood straight and tall. If you looked close enough, you could see verv intricate details that you couldn't see if you w farther away, As there was of course some baby angels on it. angel statues on it. I walk over to it. I saw the water was green and cloudy to to the point we're you couldn't see the bottom of the fountain floor which indicated that it hasn't been running for a while. I decide to take a seat at the fountain flat edge as I was trying to think of my next move to make.

I was deep in thought when suddenly I heard a noise of low splashing coming from the fountain water behind me. This made my heart beat go fast as I felt once again like I was being suffocated.

I slowly turn my head as I looked back down at the water. There was nothing. I then turn my upper body as I now put both of my hands on the cement edge of the fountain, leaning over to look even closer at the water to see if anything could be in there. I felt the air electrified as l did this even though I was outside in the open. My nerves started to get to me as my breath quickened. I leaned even closer to the water. The silence was becoming unbearable.

In the cloudy green water I saw a small black shadow that was slowly coming to the surface. The object got closer and closer to the surface as my heart was racing faster.

As the small black object fully came up to the surface........was only a frog. As I see this and let out a sigh in relief as i thought it was something else entirely. I backed my face away from the water being glad how the outcome came as I sat up right again. But..... immediately a very large pitch black arm reached out from the fountain water The arm tactically grabbed the ends of my hair that was close to the water and harshly pulled me in the water. I let out a scream from this but it wasn't heard from me being dragged in the fountain water so quickly.

My heart was now jumping out of my chest as fear consumed me whole at this point. I start to struggle, thrashing around like a fish out of water. The grip that was on my hair tightened more and pulled even harsher. With every breath of air that I could get. I was now fully submerged in the water. Holdings my breath as I continue to thrash, all I could hear now is the Luke warm water moving from my thrashing and my heartbeat in my ears. I opened my eyes at some point as I saw clear from the green and cloudy water was just two inhuman like still beady yellow eyes staring right back at me.

My eyes and the yellow ones never flatter from each other as l knew...... this was the demon. But what caught my attention was the look of familiarity on both of our parts when looking at each this long enough. At that split second I was then harshly thrown out of the water to a cobblestone wall of the monastery. I gasped for air as I finally was out of water and start coughing from being underwater for that much time. I groaned lowly from the throw like I was some rag doll.

I touched the spot on my head softly where its was pulling my hair, there was definitely a big that will be left there. I touched the spot on my head softly where its hand was pulling my hair, there was definitely a big bruise that will be left there. I realized just then that my nun veil was gone as my hair and face was more exposed in the opened. It was all wet from the water like the rest of my nun gown

I slowly got up in a daze as l gather my thoughts on what just happened only mere seconds ago. I looked around and saw I was actually back into the monastery but specifically in the basement. I quickly stood up, though which I almost fell back down but I kept my control and balance. I looked at the new scenery that this thing took me to. My eyes widened as I looked at one specific corner wall of the room. I couldn't believe my eyes what l was seeing, my eyes was filled with fright.

father Burke and sister Irene who was both was sitting on the cobblestone floor and leaning there upper bodies back on the cobblestone wall propped up. There bodies was stained with blood making it looking more gruesome. I also notice that the blood of Jesus that we planed to use which it would work like the first time we used it , its bottle was shattered but… The blood was gone.

I felt like I was going to throw up and cry in the time instantly at the sight. They both were alive minutes ago, but now there dead. I start to slowly step back as I had a hand over mouth when I continue to look at the scene. I walk back 3 steps until my back suddenly hit against something. I froze immediately in fear that I couldn't hide anymore of. It has won and knows it. the powerful demonic presence was more presents than ever in here as instead of feeling cold, it started to feel hot.

I slowly turn around slowly as the tension in the air once again intensified as I was now fully turned around and cranked my neck to look up. It was the demon again....just staying down at me, almost piercing through my soul. I started to shut my eyes tightly as I didn't wanna see what it was gonna do to me next.

But, surprisingly, and unbelievably they weren't doing anything other then just looking at me. My eyes were still close as I preparing myself for any minute now that it would kill me in the same way it did to father Burke and sister Irene.

Nothing was happing though other than the intense stare down from it, the powerful presence was getting overwhelming. It did something shocking as it spoke for the first time and it seemed like it ha talked to any humans in a LONG while. The sly evil smirk permanently look in place on its face

" So we meet again...Agnes..... My little viper....”

Their voice was truly deep. So deep that it almost felt like the floor shook and sounded like an echo of different kinds of voices in the background of its own voice.

My eyes slowly opened as I looked up at them. I was filled with all different sorts of emotions but there were three that was more going on in me then most.

Fear, confusion, and disbelief at this situation. That wasn't my name, that's my...... great, great grandmother. My family talked about her once in a while but never got into detail about her like my other ancestors. I push pass my nerves as i replied, not taking my eyes away from its own

“....My names not Agnes It's Y/n.... How do you know m—“

I said shakingly as it spoke again immediately after what I said, cutting me off in the process but this time in a more malicious then the last

“I know that. I know a lot of things Y/n, ALC your her descendant and rightfully so...... I will drag you down the same rabbit hole like I did to HER all those years ago...... My little viper in training..."

#dead evil rise deadite x reader #everyone #fypage #lucifer morningstar x reader #slashers x reader #the nun #valak x reader #valak smut #valak the nun #valak #the conjuring #the warrens #x reader #x y/n #y/n #alastor #tumblr fyp #demonology

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y-rhywbeth2 · 6 months

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Elf Lore Dump - 1/???

I had to cut a lot of detail. Wouldn't have to do that with any of the other demihumans; they'd just fill a single fucking post. I could be talking about dwarven druids and their giant bees, or bitching about how much better Tieflings used to be, but nooo elves are fuckin' special!

Elves in brief are fey spirits in mortal flesh, spiritually connected to each other, the world and their gods. Often aloof, considered creatures of ethereal grace... They would also very much appreciate it if you never mentioned their long history of fuckups including several world wars, multiple war crimes and genocides - successful or attempted.

I just shoved a load of elven lore together in an attempt at an overview, occasionally hypothesising when gaps appeared in my knowledge; here's hoping it made sense!

Overview; Spirituality stuff/Afterlife; History rundown; The different types of elf

As always: "D&D is old as balls, there's a lot of stories and information out there that may conflict with what you hear from me because D&D is an old trainwreck pileup of lore that keeps contradicting and tripping over itself and there's stuff I might not be aware of." I personally am mostly taking the angle here that older, detailed Realmslore will take precedence over generic 5e lore.

The elven word for their own race is Tel'Quessir - translated as "The People", or "Of The People". This is due to the aforementioned spiritual link: elves are spiritually linked to each other, which gives them a low-level telepathic link…

"Elves seem to have some sort of mental link between them […] linked with [a] mysterious gland in their brains. It cloaks their brains from [enchantment magic] but it can also emit energy to allow another elf to project his mind into another's and then the two share thoughts on some level. The closeness of elven communities comes from this habitual sharing of minds, and the elves do not understand other races without this ability, for they cannot conceive of being totally alone in one's own head. Apparently, elves look forward to sharing their thoughts with others and do it directly or in "reverie."" - Cormanthyr: Empire of the Elves

"[Elves] mystically acquire [skills they don't have] by drawing them from shared elven memory..." - Mordenkainen's Monsters of the Multiverse

Reverie is the world for the elven trance in the Realms. During reverie the elf falls into a trance like state where they lie down (or recline on a chair or something) and go incredibly still, their eyes open. This can often cause panic amongst non-elves not experienced with elves, to whom they appear to have just died.

In reverie an elf relieves the past events of their life. This is how elves avoid forgetting past events of their lives, despite living for 700+ years.

Pregnant elves eventually fall into a semi-reverie as they commune with the developing infant. The child "learns" of their family, home and is born knowing them and starts off already knowing some basic knowledge of the elven language.

Non-elves are N'Tel'Quessir or N'Quess - "Not of the People." They are not part of this link and not part of the whole that is The People.

I don't think it's ever been specified whether the mind linking applies to half-elves. Half-elves may chose to either reverie as an elf or sleep as a human and possess the elven resistance to enchantment magic, implying that gland exists to some degree. They might be capable of some degree of this connection, at least, but possibly not the full version. Half-elves are sometimes insultingly referred to their more racist cousins as A'Tel'Quessir - "Almost of the People"

Dark elves theoretically should be able to do this, but 99% of them wouldn't, due to Lolthite cult brainwashing.

Considering that vampires are immune to enchantment and psionics due to being corpses with no brain activity, presumably that gland is dead and an elf who becomes a vampire cannot access this communion. They do appear to be capable reverie in some depictions, however - though they probably can't share it. (Even if they can, I highly doubt elves are going to trust a spiritually defiled undead monster that's also an abomination in the eyes of one of the major deities in the elven pantheon.)

Elves are inherently connected to magic and the Weave. This is apparently what gives them their extremely long lifespans and what is behind their cultural adoration of magic.

Random things about elven culture include that they have champagne and they've invented the prog rock genre, according to Ed Greenwood, who created the setting.

Elves live 700+ years and physically and psychologically mature at the same rate as humans. While they are still in their first century of life, and within a human lifespan, they tend to experience the world much the same as a human of equivalent age rather than an ancient fey being to whom next century is the equivalent of next year. Elves in this stage of development usually go through a cultural rebellion stage. They ignore their own communities in favour of humans, if possible; involve themselves in human "fads"; and have flings and relationships with non-elves. Young elves sometimes dabble with evil alignments, something older elves generally consider a phase that they'll grow out of and look back on with embarrassment when they're old enough to know better.

Elves are not considered fully mature adults by their own people's standards until they're into their second century of life. Age 20-120 is basically like being 18 to early 20-something for a century from the elven perspective. Fully mature elves are slow to respond to events (major human events pass in the blink of an eye to elves) and have a rather laissez-faire attitude to the world. That might explain why elven culture values personal freedom and individuality.

--- Afterlife: Elves are kind of fey spirits in mortal flesh - which was backed up in 2e, when the fact that they have spirits and don't have souls meant that resurrecting them could be annoying and expensive sometimes, because Raise Dead wouldn't work on them, only Resurrection and True Resurrection.

According to Ed, the elven spirit is inherently tied to the plane of Arvandor. While they can dedicate themselves to non-elven gods, outside of exceptional cases those elves will still be going to Arvandor when they die.

Dying, in elven terms, is called "Passing West." In their reverie they begin to receive signs from Sehanine Moonbow, elven goddess of dreams and death, who prepares them for the end of this life. A ring of colour like the titular moonbow forms in their iris, marking to other elves that they're in their final days. Then they travel to elven lands where they die amongst their people or pass directly to Arvandor, I'm not sure. Elves that die of unnatural causes are given funerals according to their cultural norms (usually either in tombs or private burials.) It is believed by the very religious that in Arvandor elves will join in a reverie-like communion with the gods - the Seldarine (Tel'Seldarine; "the siblings of the wood") Reincarnation is a part of elven religion, it's believed that Sehanine works with Corellon on preparing elven spirits in Arvandor for the transition to their next life when/if the time comes. In exceptional cases they can also petition the gods to be reincarnated as nymphs, dryads and treants (ents, basically). Or be turned into guardian spirits who will manifest to defend their homes in times of war. There's also a special type of lich (a baelnorn) that can be formed if there's a dire need for it, very begrudgingly tolerated by Sehanine despite her dislike of the undead.

Drow rarely die of old age, and most being Lolthite their souls go to her and I believe she transforms their souls into one of the millions of soul spiders that accompany her (sometimes she makes them into other things, sometimes she eats them) Eilistraeean drow have a similar ending to surface elves, where Eilistraee will call to them at the end of their lives and take them with her to the afterlife (Eilistraee's realm in Arvandor) Most of the Seldarine (with one or two exceptions) actually have no issue accepting dark elven worshippers, so I assume this particular minority of dark elves is also guided to Arvandor by Sehanine. Otherwise they take the half-elven route:

Half-elves have souls like humans, and are not tied to Arvandor in the same way. Worshippers of the Seldarine will be collected by them at the Fugue plane as an elf, and those that worship human gods will be collected by one of them.

A brief, clumsy overview of elven history: Elven myths about their origin vary. All claim Corellon Larethian as the creator of their people. The most popular story states they're descended from their chief deity, Corellon Larethian and his/her future-consort Sehanine (and by all accounts, they appear to be correct). The first elves were born from Corellon's shed blood mingled with Sehanine's tears, shed when s/he was wounded fighting the orc god Gruumsh back at the dawn of time.

Of course before Sehanine was consort, Corellon was involved with Araushnee the elven godess of fate. This led to an epic divorce when she allied with Gruumsh and Corellon's other enemies in an attempt to overthrow him and once the dust cleared (following several attempted coups) he turned her into a demon and exiled her to the Abyss (the lower plane of Chaotic Evil), where she renamed herself Lolth and decided that spiders were actually really cool and she was going to start a cult and society based on spiders - a conclusion she almost certainly didn't reach because because spiders eat their mates and she's bitter about her ex, imo. Also, Lolth's banishment would surely not come back to bite everybody on the ass At All.

Elves first leave the Feywild for Toril in -27,000 DR - the Dawn Age, when Dragons rule the world. The Torilian Fey open a portal connecting Abeir-Toril to the Feywild, bringing the dark elves through to come disrupt the dragons. A tribe named the Ilythiiri establish a kingdom in the South of Faerun [Ilythiir] that will be a beacon of elven culture for millennia. Other waves of immigration follow at different times. Elves eventually defeat the dragons at war; elven nations dominate the planet. Five world wars ensue, involving the numerous war crimes nobody wants to talk about because it makes all of them look bad, and ending in the dark elves getting exiled. Humanity rises to power, moving faster than elves can currently comprehend, driving elves out in their expansionism. Most of the elves' bad history with humans involves the Netherese. Various methods are used to try and stop this ranging on a scale from friendship and cultural outreach to founding genocidal terrorist groups because humans are less than animals and must all be exterminated. Elves decide to make Only-Elves-Allowed-Island by dragging a piece of Arvandor into Toril. The Seldarine say; no, please just make friends with the non-elves. The Elves ignore this and end up blowing up a continent, causing mass death. The result is Evermeet (only reachable with permission, and guarded by the avatars of the Seldarine). The elves plan to totally abandon Faerûn and live there alone with no N'Quess. In 1344 DR there's a magical summons that calls all elves to either Evermeet of the elven city of Evereska. It is followed by pretty much everybody except some moon elves and all the copper elves. Everybody except the elves think this disappearance is really sudden, but the elves have been planning this for centuries, actually.

4e had the Spellplague cause the Feywild to realign with Toril, as it did when the elves first moved over. This caused Evermeet to vanish into the Feywild somewhere and allowed "high elves" to step between worlds with ease and then the elves started rebuilding their lost homelands in the Feywild (on the locations where they used to be, but not in the "human" world). I have no idea whether any of that is still canon.

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A somewhat tongue-in-cheek, overly simplistic guide to elves:

Half-elves - Cha'Tel'Quessir - are the offspring of humans and elves or two half-elves. Very, very rarely they occur in a human lineage that has an elven ancestor a few centuries back in the family tree. Half-elves sport a mixture of human and elven features, sometimes fully passing as one or the other. They generally follow the culture norms of whatever society they were born in, either human or elven. The only places that half-elves make up a significant enough numbers where they can make a significant society are in the Yuirwood in Aglarond of Easter Faerun, and (formerly, I think) the Loviataran half-drow of Dambarath. They live between 100-200 years.

It'd be best to give them their own post, honestly.

The child of a half-elf and a human is, mechanically, a human. The child of a half-elf and an elf is, mechanically, an elf. But these children may inherit traits from their heritage (so a human with pointy ears or a moon elf with brown eyes and skin, for example).

When elves mix (for example, a green elf and a silver elf) the result is a child that, again, mechanically speaking, is the same "subrace" as one of their two parents. They still inherit genes from the other parent. Dark elven genes are almost always dominant, and an elf with one dark elf parent will be a dark elf themselves nine times out of ten.

WOOD ELVES: Copper elf | Sylvan elf | Wood elf | Or'Tel'Quessir - Chill, patient, friendly. The only elven group that's native to Toril, the result of a mixture of the other elven ethnicities after the five world wars (Crown Wars) becoming populous and focused enough to become their own independent culture. As a weird side effect they actually like the world and the non-elven people in it and don't want to lock themselves away from it. They like living in nature in quiet little villages and towns in the wilderness, and are the only elves that don't like arcane magic - locking yourself away studying magic and never seeing the world or other people is unhealthy for you. Druidry is way better. Most half-elves of "wood elven" variety have copper elven ancestry. - Skin is coppery brown, occasionally with a green tinge; eyes are brown, hazel, green; hair is usually brown or black, but occasionally blonde and copper-red turns up.

Green elf | Wild elf (slur) | Sy'Tel'Quessir - Closely related to the dark elves, who they branched off from. Watched as through five world wars one of their dark elven cousins' nations (which they also lived in) was genocided off the map by gold elves for resisting colonisation; and the other dark elven nation started getting involved with Lolth and demons and war crimes; and by the end of it all the other elves had annihilated every single green elven civilisation. They came to the conclusion that permanency and city building is bullshit and they're going to vanish into the wilds, embrace a nomadic lifestyle in touch with the earth and everybody else in the world can fuck off. Bye, don't call (or we'll stab you). They like nature, prefer sorcery to wizardry and have an animistic approach to religion. Often have to deal with other elves either trying to "civilise" them or else going for the "noble savage" angle and appropriating their culture. Very nice bead work. - Dark brown skin; hair is brown or black with the rare blonde; eyes brown, green, hazel with the rare blue.

HIGH ELVES: Silver elf | Moon elf | Grey elf (slur) | Teu'Tel'Quessir - "Flighty, chaotic and irreverent." The party elves who enjoy fun, adventure, hedonism and gambling. Revelry is an important part of their culture. Basically the only type of elf you'll ever meet because the copper elves stay in the forests and the other elves, on average, would rather kill themselves than live with non-elves. Responsible for the vast majority of half-elves in existence. Curiously they make up more than 50% of the demographic of the church of the elven god of moonlight, mystery, dreams, death, and hating the undead. - Silver elven genes include white/silver or black hair; Pale skin, often tinged with blue; Blue, green or grey eyes.

Gold elf | Sun elf | Ar'Tel'Quessir - No actual affinity for the sun, just a reference to their golden colouration. "Dour and serious." "Methodical, careful." Conservative religious types who are raised to believe that they are the purest example of elvendom and that Corellon appointed them defenders of elvendom against the hoards of humans who have driven the elves off their lands and despoil the natural world in their inherent greed and short-sightedness. Would respond to the idea of leaving elven lands much like His Majesty responding to the idea of joining your camp: "I'd rather die." - Gold, bronze, amber skin. Bright golden blonde hair, copper or black. Gold, black, silver and rarely; bright copper or golden-hazel eyes.

Star elf | Mithral elf | Ruar'Tel'Quessir - Human expansion led to the humans trying to conquer them (they lost), so they created an entire plane of existence (Sildëyuir) and all moved there in -699 DR. Recently forced to move back sometime between 1300-1400 DR due to strange monsters invading. They're not very religious, have a strong bardic tradition and wear these weird glowing gems on their foreheads for some reason, they don't know shit about the modern world and they're terrified of non-elves. - Pale skin, like moon elves but with a violet tinge; Gold, red or silver hair; Grey or violet eyes.

Basic overview of the fallout with the dark elves and everyone else: An empire of gold elves (Aryvandaar) decides they're going to conquer the world and starts by colonising the nearby dark elven empire of Miyeritar. Down south, Ilyithiir responds with hostility. Miyeritar resists, Aryvandaar responds with genocide and wipes them off the map with magic that leaves the entire Miyeritaran region permanently wrecked (even into the modern day) and wipes out the worshipers and power base of Eilistraee, leaving no barriers to prevent Lolth from taking over the dark elves as their only god (In the future surface elves will point blank refuse to ever discuss this event). Ilyithiir responds by going apeshit and starts committing imperialistic war crimes claiming to be avenging their Northern kin. The Ilythiiri were also ruled by demon worshipping imperialists who'd fallen under sway of Lolth and the surface elves insist that avenging Miyeritar was just an excuse.

The surface elves say that the dark elves are N'Quess and start calling them dhaerow, which means traitor. The dark elves say that the surface elves are N'Quess and start calling them darthiir, which means traitor.

Lolth dominates 99% of dark elven society with her cult, and basically their entire society is a cycle of abuse married to their bitter divorcee goddess' spider fetish. Yay, toxic matriarchy; Those with power can do whatever they want to those who have less, so you should do everything to make sure you're the one with the power; Love is a lie, kill your mate when you're done with him; If your children aren't trying to kill you, you've failed as a parent; You only have worth because of what worth Mother Lolth gives you. You only live because of Her. etc.

There are also the merchant clans who live outside of city. They're a little more egalitarian, because dealing with outsiders is demeaning, so it's a man's job. They favour plutocratic governance (they're ruled by an inner council formed by the most wealthy members, often male wizards). They're the most "friendly" to outsiders and basically the trade they bring is the only thing that stops the noble house run cities from collapsing.

Minorities include the Eilistraeeans; Eilistraee voluntarily went into exile so that somebody would be there to encourage the dark elves to put down the knives, get away from Lolth, move out of the Underdark and go to fucking therapy.

Her twin brother, Vhaeraun, also encourages the dark elves to put down the knives, get away from Lolth, move out of the Underdark and go to fucking therapy - stab other people instead of each other! This is totally unproductive villainy! You're better than this! How are the drow supposed to conquer the world and rule over the lesser beings if we're still in this glorified cave after a millennia?? - Noticable sexual dimorphism, females are larger and more robust than males. Very dark skin. Hair is usually pale with black being an extremely rare recessive gene (white, platinum blonde, pale copper). Eyes are also typically in pale colours, with red being common because Lolth decided to have the Ilythiiri nobles breed with a demon lord and that got into the gene pool. Other eye colours: white-grey, lavender, pink, amber, black, green is sometimes seen but it's thought to be a sign of surface-elven ancestry.

OTHER: Avariel | Winged Elves | Aril'Tel'Quessir - Flying elves with bird wings who live on mountaintops. Almost extinct. Sea elves | Aquatic Elves | Alu'Tel'Quessir - Elves with gills and webbed hands and feet that live under the sea. Blue with green stripes or green with brown stripes, depending on what sea they're from. Lythari | Ly'Tel'Quessir - An exclusive elf club where you join by getting infected with elf lycanthropy and then you turn into a silver wolf. They're sterile, so they can only make more lythari through recruiting.

#elf tav #half elf tav #drow tav #dark elf tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #halsin #minthara #long post

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ohshi-kaboom · 26 days

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Murder Drones Rider Au + Uzi fanart

Or should i say... Murder Drive AU HEHEHEHE

This lovely amalgamation was made by yours truly when putting murder drones and pretty bikes on a blender hoping for something fancy. And i did it.

The mechanics are simple! (Haha get it? Mechanics)

Uzi is a moody mechanic (i will get real tired of the word mechanic and so will you.) Working in your local Auto shop: Copper's 9 ! Owned by daddy dearest Khan Doorman! She mostly does repairs and common car maintenance, aaand if she decides she likes you well enough you'll get some neat modifications for half the price! (Its a lie but only she knows that)

In her free time she stays around the back of the store repairing and selling old cars as a hobby that also doubles as a side hustle.

Her life in home isn't as sweet as she would hope for but she's learned to cope, something that she specializes in after her Moms disappearance; Nori Doorman, presumed dead.

Shes the only occupant of a nice little apartment, moving from their parents house a few years after Nori's disappearance and Khan's neglect. Rarely visited by anyone she stays little time in her apartment, either watching anime after a tiring day, eating lunch, showering after a messy oil spill or just existing after closing hours. Youll definitely see her more at the shop doing gods knows what this time. The reson why Uzi doesn't spend more time in the little home shes built herself is because of the atmosphere, too cold and gloomy for her liking, the barren space reminding her too much of her loneliness.

("She looks soo much like Uzi" you all say in unison.)

Nathaniel, or best known as "N" is a Bike racer, youll see him proudly sporting his various motorcycles all earned by his sweat, hard work, and money from illegal races.

N has and incredible set of bad luck, following him like a stubborn rain cloud with every single bike he touches breaking down at some point. No matter how much he dotes over them or how carefull he is; they will break. And thats a promise from the universe, aparently.

He lives in a fairly big house with his other two roommates: Jay, "J" and Veronica, "V". They all participate in their own races, N and V competing frequently while J sits back and collects their winnings. J also participates in rare ocations.

When N is not flying through the streets, or winning the months rent he resides in his little corner of the garage painting, drawing, scrap booking or doing whatever craft he can get his hands onto.

(I will probably add more on N later on)

N and Uzi meet when Ns bike breaks in "the middle of nowhere" according to V, so he just sits quietly besides the road waiting for either backup (V showing up to rescue him after cackling over the phone and then hanging up) or to simply perish. Uzi was heading to the workshop in Railgun (a very beat up, highly modified but very loved minitruck that she herself constructed from other cars parts) When she came across a very puppy kicked to the side of the road sad looking person laying down besides the road by a very nice looking motorcycle. She slows down to take a quick peek to the bike when the person laying down jumps immediately at her side after noticing her slowing down, begging asking for a ride to the closest Auto shop explaining how his bike broke. Uzi (although very begrudgingly) decides to help this weird friendly stranger as her good deed of the year. She parks to the side of the road helping N heave the bike into the trunk and waits until he hops into the passenger seat to begin their way to Copper's 9.

After Fixing N's bike (and getting a tip she will not complain about) She gives the rundown on what the problem of the bike was and how to avoid it. N thanks her (a little too much if you ask Uzi) and parts ways. Uzi not dwelling about it goes on to the rest of her day, not thinking about seeing N again anytime soon.

Not even a week later N shows up again with another bike, this one looking like it went into the devils asscrack and back. Uzi just gives him a glare and gets to work.

That is NOT the last time that happens. (She counts 12 visits in one month, what the hell N?)

So! This is the basic information about my silly little Au, i don't have a name for it yet, I have been calling it Murder Drive for gits and shiggles but i don't know if I should make it the official name of this Au, if you have any suggestions tell me about it!

And I've been thinking about making it a fic buuut I've never written anything lengthy before, and English is not my first language so you can imagine how I feel.

Do tell me how you feel about it, or if you have any asks send 'em my way!

ALSO! THIS IS A HUMAN AU!! YAYAY HUMANS‼️‼️

#I do apologize for the typos #idk I'll figure that later #I am way too lazy to proof-read it #or maybe I'm not #UPDT: I did fix all the typos i could find lol #murder drones #murder drones fandom #murder drones uzi #md uzi #md n #md nuzi #murder drones au #Murder Drive AU #murder drones fanart #traditional art #original art

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ym-loreposting · 7 months

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The Princess Shroob Usurper Theory

Note as of 11-12-2023: The idea of this post is somewhat based on and inspired by this old GameFAQs thread I read many years ago. I had forgotten where exactly I had read this and thought it was old YouTube comments or some other place, but found the thread again today. So credit to wiiking96 for the inspiration.

The Shroobs are an alien race from the Mario series and the main antagonists in Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time. Due to their planet dying out, they sought a new home and invaded the Mushroom Kingdom in the time when Mario was still a baby. The rulers of this species are two characters with the same name, the two Princesses Shroob. They are sisters, though the existence of the elder sister is kept a secret for most of the game. The elder Princess Shroob acts as the secret final boss of Partners in Time and her existence is foreshadowed at various moments throughout the game. The relation between the two Princesses Shroob from the perspective of the younger sister is not explored a lot in the game however, likely in part to keep the twist intact. However, as this theory will argue, the younger Princess Shroob and her people might also have motivations to not acknowledge the existence of her sister for most of the game.

Pieces of the Cobalt Star

One of the first places the Shroobs attacked when they arrived on earth was the Mushroom Castle. Around the same time as this, a time machine from the future with Princess Peach, Toadiko and Toadbert arrived in the castle. According to Peach just before the true final boss, immediately upon exiting the time machine, the trio was greeted by the two Princesses Shroob. The elder princess attacked, but Peach grabbed the Cobalt Star powering the time machine. She trapped the elder princess inside the star, upon which it shattered in six pieces. Peach was then captured by the younger princess Shroob and taken away, while Toadiko was brought to Toadwood Forest by the Shroobs and Toadbert was swallowed by Yoob at some point.

The main quest of Partners in Time involves retrieving the pieces of the Cobalt Star, as they were scattered to various places at some point after the Shrboos’ initial take-over of the Mushroom Castle and Toad Town. The locations we find some of these pieces in offer the first leg of the theory. But first, a rundown of where the pieces are found and how they likely ended up there:

Inside a treasure chest in Bowser’s Castle. The piece was likely brought here by Baby Bowser’s minions, as Baby Bowser identifies it as his treasure after the fight with Swiggler. They may have grabbed the piece from the Mushroom Castle, as he was in it around the same time when Peach, Toadbert and Toadiko arrived from the future.

Held by Swiggler in the Shroobs’ Vim Factory. The piece was likely put there by the Shroobs, as Swiggler is important for their infrastructure, since it creates the fuel for their UFOs.

Held by Petey Piranha, who lurks in the Gritzy Caves. Given that Petey Piranha was likely engineered by the Shroobs and they feed Peach to it at one point, it is likely the Shroobs put the Cobalt Star shard in Petey as well.

Sealed in a glass sphere in the Star Shrine. It is unclear how a part got to this location, given the Shroob presence in the area is low and none of the other characters in the Mushroom Castle at the time are known to have gone to the Star Shrine prior to the Mario Brothers collecting the piece.

Held by Toadbert, who likely grabbed a piece when the Cobalt Star first shattered.

Held by Princess Peach, who likely grabbed a piece when the Cobalt Star first shattered.

On the whole, it thus seems the Cobalt Star pieces were taken and moved by those who were in the Mushroom Castle at the time. Peach and Toadbert likely took their pieces to stop the elder Princess Shroob from being reformed and Baby Bowser took his piece because he thought it was a shiny treasure. But why would the Shroobs take two pieces and keep them knowingly apart from each other? Would they not want to free their monarch and so keep the pieces together? Of note is also that Peach was captured by the Shroobs and she is kept apart from the other pieces as well for the most part (except for the time she spent in Petey Piranha’s belly). It does give the impression that they are trying to keep the pieces apart deliberately, but as to why this might be the case, further evidence needs to be examined.

The attitude of the younger Princess Shroob

For most of Partners in Time, the younger Princess Shroob is thought to be the leader of the Shroobs. This is to keep the existence of the elder Princess Shroob a secret from the player, but the actions and words of the younger Princess Shroob seem to show she also considers herself the singular leader of her people. As mentioned before, she does not acknowledge the existence of her sister for most of the game. Instead of seeking her sister’s liberation also, she organizes a grand ceremony at the Koopaseum where Peach is fed to Petey Piranha. This seems to be an execution ceremony celebrating the Shroobs’ successful conquest of the Mushroom Kingdom, where the old kingdom is symbolically killed off.

Mario, Luigi and their baby selves go on to defeat Petey Piranha not long after this, but do not find Peach inside his belly. Instead, she was spat out and was later moved to Shroob Castle. The younger Princess Shroob also impersonates Peach. She is found by the four Mario Brothers and brought to the present, though later kidnapped again by Bowser and brought to the past. Kylie Koopa speculates that this was deliberate after this is found out aboard the Shroob Mother Ship:

“You took that dame through a time hole to the future Mushroom Kingdom? Are you saying you think that was Princess Shroob’s plan all along? Talk about a twist! Yeah, she sets herself up as Princess Peach and infiltrates Peach’s Castle in the future… What she’s really after… is the chance to conquer the Mushroom Kingdom of your time, too! The gall of this gal!”

So her celebration of the successful conquest of the Mushroom Kingdom in the past leads directly into a plan to start conquering the Mushroom Kingdom of the present. The younger Princess Shroob is power hungry and has her sights set on even more conquest, instead of freeing or even acknowledging her sister. A quote from the princess herself just before she is fought sums the attitude up quite well: “This kingdom is mine!” Contrast this to how the elder Princess Shroob describes her goals for conquest after her defeat:

“One day, the Shroobs will dance on the buried remains of this pathetic kingdom…”. She seems to see it as more of a shared goal, while her younger sister sees it as her own ambition as the sole ruler of the Shroobs.

This attitude can also be seen in the design of the Shroob Castle. It is only after the elder Princess Shroob being sealed away, that the Mushroom Castle was converted into Shroob Castle. On the ground floor of the castle, a large statue of the younger Princess Shroob is present. However, this statue pales in comparison to the identical but gigantic statue of the younger princess that stands atop the castle. And inside, on one of its highest floors, we find a room with a single throne. Not two. The castle is clearly solely designed for the younger Princess Shroob, with no design hints of the elder Princess Shroob anywhere.

A related aspect is the UFO that the younger Princess Shroob uses as her vehicle at various points through the game: The Shroob Mother Ship. It is the largest and most dangerous Shroob UFO that the Shroobs seem to have in their arsenal, but it is not the only unique and large UFO in the game. A second one is found on the second floor of Shroob Castle and it bears several design similarities to the Shroob Mother Ship, but is noticeably smaller and is never used by the Shroobs. It is just laying around in the castle, allowing the Mario Brothers to take out several smaller Shroob UFOs. The intended occupant seems to be missing or not using this UFO. Perhaps this then is the UFO actually belonging to the younger Princess Shroob, while the Mother Ship she pilots actually belongs to her elder sister, given the elder princess is presumably considered of higher authority than the younger one. This would explain the existence of the smaller, unique Shroob UFO which is nonetheless still similar in design to the Mother Ship.

The idea that the younger Princess Shroob usurped the place of her elder sister as the supreme leader of their people and deliberately ignored her existence seems fairly likely from these pieces of evidence. A final relevant aspect is that the younger Princess Shroob is demonstrably aware of how to free her elder sister. After she is defeated is the only time she acknowledges the existence of the elder princess in the game: “Now it’s your turn, sis...ter!!!” Not long after this, Baby Bowser takes the final piece of the Cobalt Star from Princess Peach and the elder Princess Shroob is revived. The younger Princess Shroob thus knows how her sister can be freed and on top of that, knows it is imminent. As a last-ditch effort to crush the Mario Brothers, she gives her sister a chance to do so. The only time the younger princess acknowledges the elder one, is when she is on the verge of ultimate defeat and needs her sister to do the heavy lifting.

The role of the Shroob people

But if the younger Princess Shroob orchestrated a plot to keep her sister sealed, what is the role of the Shroobs as a whole in this? First of all, are they aware of the elder princess’s sealing? A crowd of Shroobs is shown to have been present when it happened in a flashback that happens when speaking to Toadiko. While the elder Princess Shroob is not shown in the flashback, she is seemingly indirectly mentioned by Peach in the Japanese version of the game. She specifically says: “あなたたちは何者ですかっ!?” (DeepL translation: “Who are you people?”). Of note is the use of “あなたたち”, a second-person pronoun. While she could be addressing the crowd, she only says it after Princess Shroob enters the frame. It might be that the elder princess is lurking just off-screen in this flashback. Either way, the Shroobs would be aware.

They also clearly go along with the plot. Shroobs actively guard one of the pieces within the Vim Factory. Furthermore, on two occasions when the Mario Brothers are about to learn the existence of the elder Princess Shroob, the Shroobs intervene so they don’t. The first is in Toadwood Forest when Toadiko explains what happened after she, Toadbert and Princess Peach first arrived in the past. When she is about to discuss the Cobalt Star, Shroob UFOs appear and turn her into a purple Mushroom. Later, in the Star Shrine, Toadbert reveals on a dirty sketch he gave Mario earlier a drawing of a second Princess Shroob. When he is about to explain what the second Princess Shroob is, the Elder Shrooboid intervenes and similarly turns Toadbert into a purple Mushroom. A third instance of this happens at Shroob Castle when Princess Peach is about to mention the elder princess, but she is interrupted by an attack from the Shroob Mother Ship. This is more likely a coincidence however, given there is no way the Shroobs or Princess Shroob were in earshot of Peach at the time. The first two instances do give the impression that the Shroobs do not want the Mario Brothers to learn about the elder Princess Shroob however. But why is that?

When the elder Princess Shroob is fought at the end of the game, there is a certain pattern in her attacks. In the first phase of the fight, a Shroob UFO may occasionally bring her a drink to heal. Her reaction is to immediately knock the UFO away. In the second phase of the battle, one of her common attacks involves her shooting an energy ball at some UFOs, which make them malfunction and fall on the Mario Brothers. At times, she may combine this with summoning a time hole and sending her subjects forward in time. This gives the impression of a ruler, who despite not being as despotic as her younger sister in her motives, is crueler to her people. She abuses them and is not above using them as weapons against her enemies. The younger Princess Shroob never displays such behavior during the game and in several instances is similarly brought a drink by one of her subjects. In such cases, she does not kick them away and simply stands by. Given this, the Shroobs might cooperate with the plot because the younger princess treats them with more respect than her elder sister and does not abuse them.

Conclusion

The idea is thus clear: in Partners in Time, there is a story about internal Shroob politics happening in the background. Upon the sealing of the elder Princess Shroob, the younger princess Shroob and the Shroobs as a whole decided to keep her sealed. The younger princess did it because she was power-hungry and the Shroob people did it because the elder princess was a physically abusive ruler. The younger Princess Shroob acts like she is the only ruler of the Shroobs, while the pieces of the Cobalt Star are intentionally kept apart and anyone who speaks of the elder Princess Shroob is silenced. The elder princess Shroob seems none the wiser in the end however, as she describes her sister as follows: “And my sister… My dear, sweet, beautiful sister… I will avenge her!” The elder princess’s goal throughout the game is focused solely on freeing herself and she does not seem to be aware of the potential plot concocted by her sister and people.

#mario #princess shroob #mario & luigi #partners in time #cobalt star #shroob #theory

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