#also..... this is something that was resting in my drafts... not feeling well yet to make something but...

[jkvjimin]

(156/∞) the perfect nose for butterflies to land on it ♡

[thebumblebeesworld]

PAPA’S • HERE

part six • annie x smoke (ft. pearline, grace, mary, and stack)

summary: striken with grief after losing his daughter, smoke runs away to chicago. what he doesn’t know is that annie is pregnant with his second child, at home alone, grappling with the grief and joy all at once. she drafts letters that she doesn’t send. she sends out prayers that she knows he won’t hear. but one day as annie opens her back door, she sees smoke, stooped at the grave of their daughter.

cw: grief, death of child, use of the nword

a/n: huge thank you to @ultralspblr @margepimpson @brownskincheyenne @championshipshade for your commentary on my last few chapters!! and thank you @blue4everrsworld for inspiring this part directly!! requested by @lizbehave

part one; part two; part three; part four; part five.

masterlist

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

month seven

"Y'all shol' know how to worry me something crazy," Annie huffed as she riffled through all the notes her friends had written up. Sitting before her were three different hypothetical baby showers written out on lined paper. Each of her three friends had their own plans for how her shower could go, and she just wasn't feeling any of it.

Mary wanted something posh and spectacular: cream-toned colors and light finger foods. Pearline wanted something like a full on party: bright lights contrasting with the night sky and loud music blaring. Grace was the closet to what Annie had imagined: understated and raw, but she didn’t care for Grace’s idea of a saturated color palette.

"How y'all expect me to rest if y'all keep bombardin' me with plans,” Annie argued with them, completely overwhelmed. “All y'all want me to do is sit down and not stress. Then here y'all come stressin' me."

"But Annie," Pearline stood before her, "you gotta have a baby shower."

"It's like mandatory," Mary said matter-of-factly.

"And you ain't got much longer," Grace added on, just continuing the torment. She gazed down at Annie's pregnant belly. "That baby look 'bout ready jump up outta there."

"Ugh," Annie exhaled, jaw tight and hands balled into fists. "I'm 'bout ready for y'all to jump the hell up outta here." Annie had been so irritable lately. At any given moment, her sweet girl was pressing on her bladder, and the closer she got to her birth, the more she missed her Elijah.

"Oh, mamas," Pearline came over, giving her a deep hug to ease some of that frustration she saw resting between Annie's eyebrows. "We love you, and we just want things to be perfect." Annie huffed, pushing down her frustration at the sight of her friend’s remorseful faces. They had done so much for her, filling in for the things Elijah should be doing but not pushing her to contact him. They worked to understand her, and they supported her in all her choices.

Leaning forward, she took a deep breath before telling them exactly how she wanted her baby shower to be.

"Well, first of all," rustling the papers that sat still on her lap, nose turned up as she eyed the plans written across them, "I hate all of this." She pointed to the pages like they were the most disturbing thing she'd ever seen. "I want simple and homely. It's almost fall so that Evenin' Primrose and Goldenrod should be growin' strong. That's all the decoration my sweet girl need. Something honest, light, and pretty. We can have sweet tea and lemonade as refreshments. And I want an array of food 'case folks get hungry."

Her friends nodded their heads, just happy that she had finally given in to the idea of having a baby shower at all. Annie had been against the idea since she still had yet to tell anyone about her pregnancy. The only people who knew for certain were sat in front of her. Bo also knew; Annie had begun opening the door for him when he delivered her groceries.

The hoodoo woman wasn’t nervous about what people would have to say, but she still didn’t want word to get back to Elijah. Bo was her husband’s best friend, but Grace would have threatened him within an inch of his life if he thought to somehow contact the twins.

Planning a baby shower only made Annie think of how she and Elijah planned their baby girl’s shower together. How he was so excited to be a papa. How he dedicated himself to getting everything in order for her arrival.

Him not being there now made her question herself—if she had done the right thing in not writing him back. If keeping this from him was her own kind of sick betrayal. She owed him nothing—that's something she would always stand on—but thinking through all the hypotheticals of how to celebrate this life she was bringing into the world caused her heart to crumble.

"I’m most excited to pick out your outfit for the shower," Pearline postulated, looking dreamily as she imagined all the cute dresses she could find for Annie and her adorable pregnant belly.

“You stay tryin’ to dress me up,” Annie laughed, letting her thoughts rest as she tuned back in to the situation before her. She and her baby were healthy—that she was thankful for—and there was this budding emotion stirring around in her gut.

It was familiar—habitual although it felt as if it hadn’t erupted in her soul for quite some time. She attempted to push it away, but no matter what she did, it weighed heavenly on her body.

~~~~~~~~~~

Smoke and Stack journeyed through wide fields of what li'l ole Clarksdale was known for—cotton. They'd been driving all day at this point. All Smoke wanted was to get back to Annie. Something was calling to him, a familiarity that shook him to his core and lit fire in his belly.

When he told his brother that he was ready to return home, Stack was fully on board. He had been waiting on his brother. Even though it was originally his idea to go to Chicago, he only went because it was what his brother needed. So every day they were there, Stack followed his lead. If Smoke didn't want to be called Elijah, then so be it. If Smoke wanted to cry in silence or erupt with painful anguish, then he'd be there to pick him up afterwards. If Smoke wanted to stop dealing with shady folks in an effort to be a better man, then Stack would try to be better alongside him. If Elijah was ready to return home, then so was Elias.

He wanted to be there for his brother. They'd both experienced so much grief in there lives, but this was the first pain they hadn’t experience together. Of course Stack loved his niece, but this loss was different for Smoke for several reasons.

He felt like he lost his manhood.

Smoke felt that he was unable to protect his family by keeping them safe, happy, and healthy. He blamed himself for being unable to provide for them appropriately. He blamed himself for that light in his life dimming. He had never experienced an ending like that. A light that he had created in love and safety and freedom had been snuffed out.

What Stack saw before him was a broken version of what he knew his brother to be, so he committed himself to being there for him. No questions asked.

Preparing for their departure from Chicago, the Delta twins tied up a few loose ends: finishing the jobs they were tethered to, collecting the money they were owed, and purchasing a car. For the first time, they had the means to own their own vehicle, so they decided to drive back to Mississippi instead of traveling by train.

Now that they were getting closer and closer to town, tension and anxiety began to build in Smoke's heart.

"What if she don't wanna talk to me?" Smoke's voice was low as he avoided Stack's eyes by focusing on his driving. His palms trembled against the steering wheel as he attempted to fight it off. Stack let out an exasperated sigh from the passenger seat, turning his body fully toward his brother.

"Nigga, you need to be worried about her wantin' to shoot yo' ass," he cackled, slapping his knee. "I told you a long time ago not to teach her how to work that shotgun. Then yo' dumb ass went and bought her the nicest piece, too?" He turned his head away from Smoke in disbelief before continuing his rant, "you must wanna die."

"Stop playin', nigga," Smoke grumbled, gripping the wheel tighter.

"I ain't playin'," he continued to laugh. "I ain't even mentioned that li'l blade she keep on her."

"Elias, I'm being serious here," Smoke leveled his tone of voice. His face was cheerless and stern. His brother’s concerns—though draped in hilarity—were valid. Annie wasn’t known as a soft woman who let her scrutiny fall to the way side. Depending on how upset she was, he was sure to be met with the end of a double barrel shotgun.

"Ok, ok," Stack forced out in a subdued manner. "You love Annie, and Annie loves you,” he reasoned, tone turning serious despite his earlier uncouth behavior. “I know you been able to feel her love even with all these miles apart. And now that we gettin' closer and closer, it’s startin' to feel stronger. You gon' be ok. We both know she ain't finna take you back easy. Not wit' how we left. But she ain't gon' turn you away."

Smoke stayed quiet, letting a breath pass while he thought on that feeling that was growing stronger the closer he got to home. It was he and Annie’s love—partially—but it felt like something more. He’d been feeling so strange lately, and the weird cravings and pains he’d been exhibiting hadn’t disappeared. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that laying his eyes on Annie would clear up all of his confusion.

She had always been his guiding light, the one wading him through the troubled waters of his mind.

He needed her, and he was so upset with himself for believing that leaving Clarksdale for Chicago was his saving grace.

"Thank you, Elias,” he exhaled earnestly. Smoke's face flipped to something full of hidden mischief. He grinned wildly at his brother. “And while you talkin', you need to be worried 'bout Annie shootin' yo' ass too. You know she be ready to cuss you out on a good day.”

“I’m Annie favorite, nigga,” Stack tutted, crossing his arms over his middle. “You know she met me first.”

The air surrounding the twins returned to that of a carefree nature. They were always able to bring that kid out of each other. The ones who hadn’t experienced heartache. The ones that could joke around and laugh with each other, but as they rounded the corner into town, that carefree and hopeful energy died.

"Breathe," Stack spoke as they parked outside of Annie's home. Smoke had been holding his breath since he’d seen the small shack appear in the distance. Everything looked as he had left it seven months ago. The only difference was that the trees were beginning to turn bright oranges and yellows and the magnolia trees were no longer blooming. The pair also noticed a truck outside—recognizing it as the one that belonged to Bo and Grace.

Smoke didn't speak—he couldn’t; He just got out of the car slowly, hand grasping the small bouquet of Baby's Breath in his hands.

Stack jumped over the car door, eyes following his brother as he ventured toward the side of the house. With each step he took, Stack could tell that his breath was laboring more and more. His feet were getting heavier, and his back fought to stay upright. The younger twin fell back and peered away to give his brother privacy as he stooped to his daughter’s grave.

Smoke's quiet resolve crumbled as he let his emotions escape without restraint. He was happy to say that the one good thing that came out of him being away from home was that he learned to accept his emotions. He didn’t fight so hard to bottle things away anymore. He didn’t place arbitrary value to remaining stoic in the face of his sorrow.

So as he fell apart at his daughter’s grave, he didn’t view it as crumbling under the weight of his anguish. He saw it as rising above everything he was taught to be as a man.

His father never showed him a positive example of manhood. All he had learned from him was that he wasn’t going to be a man who took his anger out on his wife and children, but by doing that, Smoke had contended with a life of crime and murder to let off steam.

He no longer wanted to be that man. He wanted to show up for those around him as whole and unmuddled—strong and principled.

"Let me step my ass back 'fore Annie shoot me, man," Stack mumble under his breath, watching as the curtains on the front of the house moved swiftly. He saw shadows pass back and forth in a frenzy and heard floorboards creaking before everything went silent. Too quiet for the rapid toad calls singing around them. Too eerie for the bustling thumps of woodpeckers that echoed through the pines.

"You good, nigga," Stack asked his brother as Smoke strode back over to the front of the car, eyes trained on the house just as Stack’s had been. His body seemed looser—like the emotions he’d let out at the grave of his baby girl had done him a world of good. His face was streaked with tears that he saw no reason in clearing.

He knew that the moment he saw Annie again, he would be back to crying like a fool who'd done his woman wrong.

"I'm alright,” he shook his head, trying to understand the fact that he was standing in front of his home after seven months away. “Just nervous," he admitted, voice low and soft.

"You nervous 'cause you care," Stack said matter-of-factly. He followed his brother’s lead as the older of the two bounded up the weathering porch steps. Neither of them said a word. They just held their breaths and prepared for the inevitable. Smoke had waited for this very moment since the second the door had shut behind him and the Clarksdale air had beckoned him goodbye.

Every night he was away, Smoke had dreamed of meeting Annie’s eyes again. He’d wondered what emotion would be encapsulated behind them.

Betrayal?

Anger?

Love?

Resentment?

He didn't care what version of her he was met with. He adored Annie in all of her forms. But he knew this was a challenge he had never faced before. And he promised to never be faced with it again.

His body ached: back tensing under sharp pains, stomach jumping in a mix of cloudy emotions, feet trembling with each timid step he took.

As Smoke's hand raised to knock on the door, it swung open violently on its hinges. Knocking the wind and held breaths out of both brothers.

What Smoke had expected to be Annie staring back at him was actually three pair of impenetrable eyes: Pearline, Grace, and Mary.

"The fuck you doin' here," Grace rung her neck, seething with an anger that she had reserved especially for him.

Smoke didn’t know how to respond. In all the scenarios he’d dreamt, this certainly wasn’t one of them. He’d imagined being met with one anger woman, but three? He couldn’t handle three. Not with the way they looked like they could cut him from end to tip. Not with how they saw his vulnerability full and on display, not seeming to care how the tears dripped down his face.

"Where Annie at," Stack asked, stepping in where Smoke had gone quiet. He attempted to put his head past the door frame—in search of the woman in question—but Mary put her hand up, stopping his entry.

"Annie ain't y'all business," she spoke, eyes lit up: a bit from the excitement of seeing her man after so long apart, a bit from the outrage of seeing Smoke standing there beside him. "I'm sorry, baby," she pushed her care for the younger to the side. Her eyes drifted toward Smoke in indignation. "You can’t come in."

"Annie don't wanna see you, Smoke," Pearline added, building out this wall of angry-faced women who were not going to be swayed.

"I just wanna talk to her," Smoke's voice tarried, dragging at a slow pace as he pushed through his stress. His tears never stopped and his hands were now trembling in a way that they hadn't in a long time. The anticipation of seeing his woman was causing his entire body to palpitate. Nothing but the sight of her could aid him right now. His journal sat tucked in his back pocket. An item that normally heartened him was doing nothing for his rupturing optimism. "I just wanna talk. Nothing more nothing less."

Each woman let out their own form of opposition to his request: "Not gon' happen;" "Hell naw;" "Fuck you, Smoke."

~~~~~~~~~~

Annie stood against her bedroom door, back pressed against it in an attempt to quell the growing anxiety in her body. When she saw Elijah and Elias drive up, something in her struck like fire. The whole house had seemed to turn into a burning pit of flames that were beginning to swallow her whole. The second she saw him getting out of the car and walking toward the side of her home, Annie had run to her bedroom, locking herself in and the rest of the world out.

She didn't want to send him away, but she didn't know how to stand before him all pregnant: nose wide, feet swollen, skin dripping in that glorious motherly glow. There was no way she could hide it. Annie was so certain that the best course of action was to keep the information of her pregnancy from Elijah, but now that he was actually here, she didn't know what to do with herself.

"Ok, Annie," she took deep breaths, easing herself off the cliff of her emotions. "It's gon' be ok. You ok."

She talked herself down. The stress of planning her baby shower was already too much to handle, but this was sending her into a fit of heart burn.

Annie could hear her friends in the front room, arguing with a disillusioned Elijah. His voice caused a cold stream to wash over her, calming the stoked flames in her body. He sounded gentler than she remembered him to be, but he was certainly somber. She could almost hear tears dripping off of him, but she decided that to be a hallucination brought on by pregnancy. Elijah wasn't a crier. While he had often shown her a softer side of himself, he seldom did cry.

Before she knew what she was doing, that cooling voice of his brought her to turn the door knob. She forced the worn wood open, holding onto her breath as she stepped into the hallway.

She had a straight view of him: tweed overcoat, tailored to perfection; the strings of his mojo bag peeking out from his collar; wet tears cascading down his face, beautiful and heartbreaking all at once.

He stirred her in only a way he could. In only a way that seven months apart after a life-shattering grief could. That cooling ease faded away the moment she fully indulged on him, quickly being replaced by her rage.

Elijah met her eyes as soon as he saw her silhouette step into the hallway.

He trailed down her form, starting at the top of her head. He noticed the coilyness of her hair—how she had it tucked neatly into bantu knots with sleek yet natural parts. He observed the slope of her eyes—how they pinched at the corners as she scrunched her face at him. He took in the fullness of her lips—how they were plumper than he remembered them being, her entire face taking on an ampler quality.

Annie fumed quietly as confusion rested between his brows, the wheels turned in his head, and tears of melancholy were perking further up in his eyes.

He'd seen.

His gaze left her face and found home on her stomach.

Elijah wanted to cower on his knees before her and let out a reverent cry. He left the only woman he had ever loved just to realize that he had left more than her and his broken heart behind.

For not one second did he think Annie had laid with another man.

While he was gone, he turned away other women’s advances and remained so closed off that they feared him. Smoke trusted that she’d done the same. Their marital bed was one that they vowed to never let others lie in. So he knew that the child she was carrying was his.

If his faith in her didn’t confirm that, her eyes definitely did. Annie stared into him like she was willing to kill him. She didn’t care that there was an audience—that Stack stood beside him with his mouth pitched open and that the three women shed livid tears for Annie while continuing to block Smoke's entry—if Annie had the opportunity to smite him, she would.

He stepped past Pearline, Grace, and Mary who were momentarily ensnared by that dark look in Annie’s eyes. He swayed on an unsteady and crumbling resolve, feet shuffling across that one creaking floor board.

“Annie,” his voice cracked. He wasn't placing any judgment. Wasn't condemning her for her choices, but he was crestfallen in a way that he hadn't expected to be. Before him was the worst possible scenario that he hadn't even thought to imagine.

“Elijah,” she croaked, his name tasting like hot coals in her mouth.

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

taglist: comment HERE to be added!

the rest of the tagged folks are down in the replies!!

@brownskincheyenne @bigjh @zer0productions @devonda81 @raysogroovy @terayne-4 @hdfen2474 @mbjswife @iiiheartfayee @princesstar655 @captaincalypso2 @sleepysquishe @nuttyinternetprincess @lolimblack @chrome-edition @my-name-is-h-u-m-a-n @sweetalittleselfish-honey @theegyal @known-only-by-the-insane @nanak0matsux @d1spact @thugger-wugger @voidlesslove @massiv3tr33p3rsona @thefutureemmywinner @thelifeoflagab @marley-444 @itstayleigh @shamansha @margepimpson @everlucivee @katezy2x @chknnwffls @juniooox @milkywaydoll

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

MC who's eyes change color to their pact mark when they feel each of the brother's sin? How would each of them react when they see it?

(Can it be a little NSFW for certain sins *cough* Asmo *cough* and maybe luci and satan too? yea i'm a simp...)

Hiiii i finally finished this omg. It's been staying in my drafts for waaayyy too long. It also became a little longer than anticipated but I hope you like it. And I totally missed the part that you wanted all the brothers and only certain with nsfw 😭 sorry about that.. I'll make up for it and write for all of them sometime.

Summary: During an argument the only way you can shut them up is through the pact but it doesn't go exactly as planned.

Contains: NSFW (Minors do not interact)

Pairings:

Reader x Lucifer, Satan, Asmodeus

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

During a heated argument

Lucifer

You and the eldest had gotten into a serious argument over some trouble stirred by the rest of his brothers. And usually Lucifer wouldn't give it much thought since it's daily life for him to deal with his brother's antics but today you were at the peak of it. You didn't try to stop his brothers but rather it looked like you helped them. That's what made Lucifer feral. The thought of you helping his brothers with something you know you should prevent made the demon of Pride snap.

You were on your knees before the demon, about 2 hours into a big scolding. Though your patience was wearing thin.

-"You shouldn't be so reckless! What if something had happened to you?" –The demon yelled, his red eyes shining with wrath. You looked up with him with annoyance.

-"Nothing happened! Everything's okay! I'm okay! Why are we even having this conversation when everything is completely fine???" –You snap and raise to your feet, taking a few slow steps towards the demon.

-"Because I'm trying to prevent future situations like this! I'm trying to protect you, MC!" –He yelled, his eyes locked on you as you slowly closed the distance.

-"Yeah and by trying to protect me you're constantly suffocating me! 'You can't do this, you can't go there' stop controlling my life, Lucifer! I'm not a child!"

-"You're not a child hm? Then should I leave you alone? Is that what you want? To get eaten faster than you could call for my help?" –The demon speaks and runs a frustrated hand through his hair you close your eyes, trying to suppress your annoyance and anger but it's too much for you to handle. Frustration surged through you and you let a loud groan before speaking.

-"Aghh! Stop this! It's enough!" –You yell on top of your lungs. Your command seems to trigger the pact between you two and Lucifer is thrown across the room to his knees while your eyes shine in crimson blue. The raven-haired demon's eyes widen as he takes a sharp breath, trying to contain the pain your powerful pact caused. He takes in the sight of you and his eyes lock upon your eyes. Crimson blue - his colour. As well as Lucifer's pact mark on your left eye - it was also shining bright through the dimly lit room. The sight of you radiating such confidence, such pride. Your eyes shining with his sin caused a shiver of possessiveness to run through him. A sadistic smirk appeared on his face as he raised to his feet. Your face fell to the sight of his smug grin and you knew nothing good was in it for you. You took a step back but soon enough you were trapped in between the wall and Lucifer, who was beaming with pride and lust more than ever.

-"You look so beautiful in my colour, my master.. so powerful.. so fucking sexy.." his hands found your hips and he pulled you flush against him. The feel of his touch lit a fire inside you. You could feel your cheeks flush and your body melt into his hands even if that's not what you anticipated to happen. Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to remind him of the argument that had just occurred. Yet, the heat of his touch was impossible to ignore. He leaned down, his breath hitting and caressing your skin which drove shivers down your spine before pulling you into a desperate, passionate kiss, full of all the frustration from earlier. At first you struggle, trying to push him away but he's insistent. After a bit of struggle you finally give up and let yourself be tangled and surrounded by him. His hands travel up and down your body, making sure to touch and grab every curve it. You feel yourself spread your legs for him which makes the demon break the kiss just to look at you with that hungry gaze of his. He chuckles before speaking.

-"Already so desperate for me are you, MC? Hmm... Though I wonder.. should I give it to you or.." He pauses and presses his knee in between your legs, rubbing your heat which makes your breath hitch.

-"Or.. should I teach you a lesson for your disobedience?" He groans with frustration as he feels himself throbbing against his pants. His cock is screaming, begging to be free and to feel some kind of stimulation but Lucifer waits, knowing it's not the time to reward you. Meanwhile you grind against his knee, seeking even the last bit of pleasure it can give you. But The Avatar of Pride is not dumb. He is fast to notice that and smirks before picking you up and throwing you onto his bed. Surprise washes over you as you grip the sheets in uneasiness. Lucifer chuckles and unbuckles his belt as he makes his way to the bed.

-"I will make you scream my name tonight, master. And I won't stop until you're thoroughly punished. So I hope you're ready.. because you're not going to be getting any sleep tonight." The demon disposes of his clothes faster than you can imagine and he begins leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your neck, collarbone and face -everywhere he could reach bare skin, leaving a burning trail behind. Though his patience was wearing thinner than what he'd like. His hands gripped your shirt and tore it apart without even struggling. Soon follow your jeans and your bra, leaving you in only your lacy little thong that was soaked with your juices. Lucifer stopped in his tracks to admire the view.

-"Would you look at that, you horny little thing.. did you wear those for me? Tell me it's for me because if it isn't... I'm going to tear up to pieces whoever it was for..." The demon growled, admiring the view one last time before hooking his fingers into the waist band of the thong.

-"So warm.. so humid.. and it's all for me isn't it, my little human?" His fingers graced your clit which provoked a quiet moan out of you.

And so he continued teasing you just like this for god knows how much time. Bringing you ever so close to the peak and stopping, just to see your frustrated expressions to your denied orgasm, feeding the sadist in him. After a long while when he finally decided he had enough he raised on his knees, moving on top of you so his cock presses to your overstimulated cunt.

-"Are you ready, dear master? Because the fun is yet to start... The night is still young after all.." After those words the demon thrusts into you, making you let out a loud moan. He smirks as he begins fucking you. -Slow and steady at first but soon enough it becomes hard, raw, deep and fast. His cock was hitting all the right places inside you. You could feel each and every vein covering his shaft. And it wasn't long before you finally reached that blissful release. And so as the night went on Lucifer brought you to many more climaxes. More than you thought possible. And as promised he went on for the entire night. Lucifer had an unbelievable amount of stamina after all.

Satan

You were studying for the upcoming exams in RAD and it was a big struggle. There were a lot of concepts that weren't clear to you, making you question the possibility of those things. What do you mean demons can manipulate energy so much that they could take all the energy from one subject and turn it into something else entirely? And how were you supposed to do that yourself? You sighed burying your face into the books, praying that none of this nonsense will be on the exam and then it clicked. Why don't you call for someone's help? You looked through your contacts settling on two of them. Satan and Lucifer. Both were well aware of the subject you couldn't understand and now the question was which one? You began thinking.. you overheard that Satan has had a rough week and was on the verge of throwing a tantrum. It would take one mistake of yours for him to blow up the house. Lucifer on the other hand is a great teacher. He can be patient when teaching but is also a stressed man. If you don't understand the concept after many explanations he'll grow irritated. You decided you wanted to give Satan time to blow off some steam and calm down so you called Lucifer.

A few hours later you find yourself in Satan's room. He was mad that you had chosen Lucifer over him for such a simple thing as helping you understand that subject.

-"I am fully capable of explaining that concept to you, MC! Why do you always run to Lucifer when you face a problem??? Why??" –The demon yelled, the sound of his voice making shivers run down your spine. You looked down at the ground, fidgeting your fingers, hoping Satan wouldn't get too mad.

-"I.. I just thought you needed to calm down.. I heard you had a rough week.. I just.." You stammer out but Satan's angry glare stops you in your tracks.

-"You think I would refuse to help you just because I've had a rough week? You think I can't be patient with you when I'm irritated? And is that why you had to run to Lucifer??" He yelled, rubbing his temper, struggling not to lose control. He knew that if he lost control now it would make matters worse and you would avoid him even more than you are now.

-"Lucifer is not more capable than me, MC! I can control my anger! Don't you trust I can??? Lucifer is one to lose his mind because of the smallest mistake!" Satan yelled, jealousy flashing through his eyes. Hurt and wrath. You knew you were the one who hurt him. Guilt was tugging at your heart, hoping Satan would understand the situation but he didn't even want to look into it properly. Satan has always been like that when you do something with Lucifer instead of him. The fear that he could be the same as Lucifer or worse than him tugged at his heart. Always layed at the back of his mind. Creeping up at moments when he was unsure about himself.

-"Satan, listen to me-" You tried to explain but he was lost in his wrath so much that he wouldn't listen.

-"How could you? With what exactly is Lucifer better than me, MC? What makes him your first choice rather than me? Why not me MC?" He spoke his voice screaming hurt.

-"Satan it's not like that. I trust you Satan, please listen." You tried again and again but nothing seemed to work. The demon of wrath was blinded by his rage and the only thing you could do is use your pact to stop him before he destroys the entire house. You take a deep breath before speaking.

-"That's enough! Satan, stay!" You yell and seconds later the demon goes flying into a bookshelf, causing most of the books to fall on the floor. Satan groans in pain as he sits on his knees before you. You feel the power of the pact surge through you. It's like liquid has been poured into your veins. The strength flowing through your body. Your eyes shine green. The same colour of Satan's sin. Though that isn't left unnoticed. Upon seeing your shining bright green eyes a mischievous smirk appears on Satan's face and he raises to his feet.

-"I'll forgive you.. just this once.. because..." He takes a few slow steps towards you. His intimidating presence makes your breath hitch in your throat.

-"... because the way your eyes shine with my colour.. like I'm the only man in your eyes speaks much about who you prefer. That loser Lucifer or me. And the answer is crystal clear. So.. my master..let me indulge in you.." His hands find your body, caressing all your curves and leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your skin. He slowly walks you to the bed before pushing you down. You see the hungry look in his eyes that draws a fire inside you. He's quick to dispose of his clothes and moves onto your own. He unbuttons buttons and takes off pieces of clothes in-between kisses and caresses. He's desperate to see, to touch your skin. And when he finally reaches it it's like he's reached heaven. You can see the fire burn in his eyes as his fingers inch closer and closer to your throbbing pussy. Satan smirks and gently drags his fingers down your slit. All the way from your clit to your asshole before circling the little bundle of nerves with his thumb. You let out a soft gasp to the sensation.

-"Don't hold those noises in, MC. Let me hear you. Let my brothers hear who's making the human feel this good." –He works on your clit and your entrance for a while. His skillful fingers, caressing and rubbing all of the right places before his patience finally wears thin and he hoovers above you, rubbing the head of his dick to your entrance. You whimper in pleasure and the demon smirks, proud of himself for making you feel this way. Soon enough he pushes in and fills you whole. You can feel him hit each and every spot, rub your insides just right, making you see stars. He makes love to you sensually, making sure you feel each and every sensation that comes with being taken by the Avatar of Wrath. That night he makes sure you're thoroughly satisfied. As well as himself of course.

Asmodeus

It's been really busy for you lately. It was exam week in RAD and you've been studying nonstop. It was rare for you to spend time with the brothers during this period since you were buried to the hilt with books, notebooks and studies. You barely had time for yourself considering how hard and co confusing all Devildom subjects were. 'The steps to the ultimate love potion' ... Wait that's a real thing? 'How to seduce and manipulate the human mind' ..uhm... I'll act as if I didn't just read that.. 'Binding curses for advanced' ...Why just why? Overall it was crazy confusing. A few hours into studying you decided to take a short breath. You sat away from all the books, taking a deep breath and rubbing your temple in frustration. You were going to have the biggest ass headache tomorrow morning and you couldn't do anything about it. Well that's not entirely true. You could use one of the spells that stop any kind of pain in the human body for which you just studied about but... that's if you remember them... There is just no way out of this. Suddenly your phone buzzed which grabbed your attention. You looked at the phone. Asmo's name was on the screen. You smiled briefly and picked up the phone to answer and before you could even say hi you heard Asmo's frustrated voice on the other side.

-"Well you took your sweet, sweet time to answer me, MC. What's keeping you so occupied, hm?" –Your eyes widened briefly. It didn't take you long to answer the phone though? That's when you noticed the six missed calls from the demon of lust, all in the past hour. You froze in place. The only good thing that came out of this is that the missed calls weren't from Lucifer. If they were.. you'd probably end up dead. But other than that everything was a disaster.

-"Asmo, I'm so sorry.. I was busy studying and I didn't notice." –You apologised, hoping the demon would understand but exactly as you feared he didn't budge.

-"You didn't notice? Would that also happen to be the same excuse you'll use for all the times you avoided me this week?" –You could hear the slight hurt in his voice. The way his voice broke at a few words made your heart stop and shatter to tiny pieces. You never meant for this to happen. There was only one rational thing to do.

-"I'll be right there, Asmo. Just give me a second." –You spoke and immediately stood up, walking hurriedly towards the fifth-born's room.

-"If I'm so unimportant to you, why bother?" –You rolled your eyes upon his words. Sure, you understand that he's seeking your attention but it was a bit over the top. Drama queen much? You hung up the phone just as you knocked on his door. But you didn't receive an answer.

-"Asmo, open the door." –You asked in a high voice so he could hear you properly.

-"Would it make such a big difference if I did? Would you care?" –He whined through the door, making you roll your eyes once again.

-"Asmodeus, stop being difficult and open the door. Talk to me. Don't shut me out like this." –You pleaded, hoping the demon would give up the attitude and talk to you openly. After a few long seconds, the door finally opens slightly ajar. You see Asmodeus' tear stained face. All puffy and red. It's not often you see him like this and it gnaws at your heart. You swallow the limb that's been clogging your throat and push open the door.

For the next few minutes you try to reassure the upset demon that he is, in fact important to you. And that you didn't have enough time to catch up with your studies as well as spend time with him but he wasn't having it.

-"Do you even care about me anymore? Am I not your priority any longer?" –He paused to swallow his tears before speaking up again.

-"You don't care about me anymore, right? Am I right? I was just a temporary fling to you?" –He continued but your anger boiled and boiled since he wasn't listening and wasn't even trying to. And that's when you finally snapped.

-"Asmodeus, I command you to shut up!" –You speak loud enough for the command to be executed. Asmodeus stops in his tracks, the direct command preventing him from saying anything else. You feel a fire surge through you. The feeling, the power of commanding a demon and binding him into place with just a few words. Your eyes shine pink-the colour of Asmodeus' sin. They are bright and radiant. Anyone could see how much power you hold over the demon only if they were here to see. But the only one that's with you at the moment is Asmodeus. And he does notice the colour of your eyes and the power in your expression. Suddenly the hurt vanished from his eyes and is replaced with something else. He takes a deep breath and walks towards you slowly, sensually, making your breath stop. You can command the demon of lust but can you command the lust itself?

-"So it is true.. I can see it in your beautiful, radiant eyes... I am in fact important to you.. and not just important... The most important.. your eyes don't shine like that for anyone else.. do they?" –He slowly takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, pulling you towards him until you're pressed against his chest. He leans down, savouring your scent. You could feel his nose slighty brush against the side of your cheek and it sends shivers down your spine. The fifth-born's eyes are burning. You could see the desire in them and he slowly begins guiding you to the bed.

-"If that really is the case.. Prove it to me tonight, sweet, sweet master.. prove it to me until I've had enough of you.." –He pushed you down onto the bed and looms over your, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hands slide over all your cracks and curves, trying to reveal more and more skin.

-"Those clothes are getting in my way.. I need you au-naturel..." –He speaks and slowly begins taking off your clothes, revealing your bare body to him. Soon enough you're fully nude in front of him and so is he. You didn't even notice when he managed to take off his clothes as well but it didn't matter now. You gripped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss - more desperate than the last few. His fingers travelled down your body reaching your center and digging his fingers inside. He slowly worked on your clit. Caressing ever so slightly. Giving the smallest amount of pleasure. You groan and grind your hips against his hand, hoping to create some more friction and he chuckles.

-"Desperate to be pleased are you? Well now you know how you made me feel the past few days, master.." –He speaks quietly into your ear. A fire burns in your body and every flick of his fingers over your clit makes you tremble and whine, hoping for something more. After a long while he finally inserts a finger inside you. Guiding it in and out, slowly and sensually. You moan and press yourself closer to him. His fingers work on your cunt while his thumb circles your clit and before you know it you were trembling in pleasure. Lost in the feeling of the fifth-born's hand on your pussy. After your powerful orgasm he gently removed his fingers and replaced them with his rock-hard length.

-"The fun hasn't even started, MC.. Were going to be having fun all night long.." –He says and thrusts into you, filling your whole. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out and extended moan. His thrusts are sensual and pleasureable. Hitting all of the right spots inside you. And before you know it you're clenching around him, milking his dick dry. And with that the fun continues into the night.

[luvleyshif4]

rafe x reader.... she's touchstarved. Maybe size/height difference. Just the wonderful feeling of him being the protector (and 'provider'). They've only been dating for a little while but he figures out that her love language is physical touch. And she's so surprised bc she isn't used to receiving love. Prob a bad family setting... thanks, love <33

JUST HOLD ME

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mention of family issues, emotional vulnerability, emotional repression, medium angst turned into fluff, reader is touch starved, implied toxic family dynamics, reader might have body dysmorphia (N/A).

Word count: 1.22k words

Authors note: heyy bb!! Tysmmm for requesting this!!! I already had something like that sitting in my drafts so I thought I’d just add some changes to suit your idea🤞🏽🤞🏽🤞🏽honestly your idea made it sooo soo much better!! HOPE YOU LIKE IT CAUSE I KNOW I DO💗💗 (also I didn’t proof read this so let me know if there’s any grammar mistakes😝😝)

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt heavy yet comforting. Rafe’s truck hummed softly beneath you, the glow of the dashboard lights casting faint shadows across his face.

He had picked you up an hour ago, like he always did when your texts grew short and vague, as though he could sense the things you didn’t say. The roads were empty, a blur of dim streetlights and the occasional flicker of passing headlights.

You sat in the passenger seat, curled slightly toward the door, your oversized hoodie swallowing you whole. Rafe’s hand rested on the gear shift, his fingers drumming a slow rhythm as the faint hum of music played in the background.

He wasn’t saying much tonight, giving you space like he always did, but you could feel his eyes flick toward you now and then, studying you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he finally asked, his voice breaking the silence but staying soft.

You didn’t answer right away, your fingers playing with the strings of your hoodie. The truth was, you didn’t know how to talk about it—the way your chest felt tight every time you thought about home, the way your family’s sharp words had a way of cutting deeper than they should. It wasn’t new, but it felt heavier lately, like you were dragging something you couldn’t shake off.

“I’m fine,” you said, the words automatic and hollow.

Rafe glanced at you again, his jaw tightening slightly. He didn’t press, though. He never did. Instead, his hand shifted, brushing lightly against your knee before returning to the gear shift. It was such a small gesture, but it made your throat tighten. You turned your head, staring out the window, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your hands were trembling slightly.

The silence stretched on, comfortable for him, suffocating for you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Rafe—you did, more than you’d ever thought possible for someone you’d only been with for a few months. It was just that you didn’t know how to let someone in like this. You didn’t know how to let yourself be seen, not when you’d spent so long trying to shrink yourself down, to take up less space.

Rafe, of course, noticed everything.

He didn’t say anything at first, but you felt the shift when he slowed the truck down, pulling over to the side of the road. The engine idled softly as he put the truck in park, turning to face you fully. His brows were drawn together, his blue eyes searching yours in the dim light.

“Talk to me,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Your chest tightened again, and you shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze. “Just a long day.”

Rafe let out a soft, disbelieving huff, leaning back slightly. He didn’t look frustrated, just… concerned. And that concern was somehow worse, more overwhelming than if he’d been annoyed.

“Come on,” he said, his tone lighter but still holding that edge of care. “You don’t get this quiet unless something’s really messing with you. I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well tell me.”

The weight of his words hit you harder than you expected. You glanced at him, your lips parting as if to say something, but the words stuck in your throat. Rafe’s gaze softened even further, and without thinking, he reached over, his hand hesitating for a moment before he grazed the back of his fingers against your cheek. The touch was featherlight, and yet it sent a shiver through you. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into it, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if savoring the warmth.

Rafe stilled, watching you as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. His hand lingered there, his knuckles brushing over your skin softly, reverently. “You’re allowed to let me in,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched at his words, but you didn’t pull back. Instead, you let yourself lean into his hand fully, your head tilting slightly as though you didn’t want him to stop. His thumb shifted, lightly grazing your chin, and your eyes opened just in time to catch the way his gaze flicked down to your lips.

It wasn’t rushed or sudden. His movements were deliberate, careful, giving you every chance to stop him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and slow, like a promise. He kissed you with a tenderness that made your chest ache, his hand still cradling your face as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

Your body melted into his touch, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself. The kiss deepened slightly, but it stayed unhurried, every movement of his lips against yours making you feel like you were coming undone in the best possible way.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his thumb brushing gently over your chin. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name but felt down to your core.

“You don’t have to tell me everything right now,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But I need you to know that you’re not alone. Not with me.”

Your chest ached at his words, and you opened your eyes, meeting his. There was no judgment there, no expectation. Just him, just Rafe, offering you something you didn’t know how to accept but desperately wanted to.

Your lips parted like you might say something, but no words came. Instead, you let out a shaky breath and leaned into him again, resting your head on his shoulder this time. His arms wrapped around you without hesitation, holding you tightly, protectively, as though shielding you from all the things you couldn’t put into words.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself be held. Safe, warm, and, for once, not alone.

[seungminhour]

[💭] thinking about the types of hugs bf!skz would give you

◞✩ pairing : bf!skz (individual) x gn!reader

◞✩ contains : lots and lots and lots of fluff and hugs and just the boys being so smitten lol, probably some typos, i have not looked over this too well

◞✩ notes : this has been in my drafts for ages, but i never got around to finishing it lol. also, i wont lie, i loved writing in this little bulleted style. im gonna have to write more silly little things like this! anyway, i hope you all enjoy 🫶

01. bang chan - bear hugs

will open his arms and just let you launch yourself into his embrace no matter the mood you’re in

you’re sad? he just opens his arms silently and lets you come to him on your own terms

you’re seeing him for the first time since he left for tour? opens his arms and lets you come flying to him - catches you every single time

literally engulfs you completely

gently rocks you back and forth when you need it, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet things into your ear

“shh, baby it’s going to be okay. you’re fine, i’m right here if you need me”

definitely the type to cup your face, wipe your tears away and tell you to “turn that frown upside down” with the sweetest look on his face (it works every single time of course bc your bf is just so sweet and loving and caring and you can’t help but crack the smallest of smiles at him)

tries so hard to shield you away from the rest of the world by being in his arms

also uses it as a way to annoy you

will come up behind you while you’re trying to do something and just drape himself fully over your back

won’t get off until one (or both) of you end up on the floor

02. lee minho - back hugs

i Really have been thinking about back hugs and lee know recently, like it’s taken over 80% of all my thoughts

he especially loves back hugs in the mornings, like i’m talking clingy in the mornings

sometimes you wake up before him and you’ll be cooking breakfast for the two of you and he’ll quietly sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and just watch as you cook

do NOT try to get him off of you, because he Will retaliate by digging his chin into your shoulder to get you to stop wiggling

you’ll feed him little bites over you shoulder while asking if it needs anything

he’ll do his cute little “mmm!~” and shake his head against your shoulder

you wake him up while while you’re trying to get out of bed? good luck because he’s reaching up and grabbing you by the waist to drag you back in

“where do you think you’re going? it’s not time to get out of bed yet”

holds you there until one or both of you fall back asleep

loves to stand behind you and watch you do your nighttime routine too

asks so many (of the same) questions just because he likes to hear you talk

gets all doe eyed while watching you explain to him the benefits of one face mask over the other

he really is just smitten

03. seo changbin - picks you up and spins you around

this man. oh my god

you cannot convince me that he doesn’t love to pick you up and just take you places

like if you wanna go somewhere and you’re sitting down, be prepared for him to just lift you up and take you where you need

time for bed? he will gently pick you up off the couch and bring you to bed himself, just because he can

absolutely looooooves when you get all flustered by it

“binnie, i can walk myself you know?”

“just because you can, doesn’t mean you should”

is alllllllll about the princess treatment

as a result this translates over to his hugs 100%

literally almost knocks over the guys when he sees you come in the practice room one day

sprints full force at you until he’s scooping you up in his arms to spin you around and around until you’re breathless and dizzy

loves to pick you up and gently sway the two of you when you’re not feeling the greatest

if you come home upset and he’s there, he’s immediately picking you up and rocking you side to side as he runs his hands through your hair

sometimes you want to talk about what’s made you this upset, other time you don’t, so he’ll just hold you in place until you tell him what you need - whether that be a warm bath to relax (which he carries you to) or to be let down so you can pace and rant about how shitty of a day you had

04. hwang hyunjin - buries his face in your neck

he just wants to be as close to you as he can possibly get

loves loves loves the whole skinship of it

sooooo many neck / shoulder kisses!!!

so soft and sweet about it :(

he’ll gently hold you face in one hand while he moves you hair to the side with the other so he can make space for himself between your neck and your shoulder

always leaves at least one kiss to your neck before he rests his forehead there

“you know, hyune, you can’t just hide in my neck forever. at some point you need to come out”

will literally pout, shake his head and shove his face closer to you

he’ll fall asleep like that too

if you two have a movie night on the couch, be ready for him to lay directly on top of you, shove his face into your neck, and then promptly fall asleep within the first 20 minutes

the list of unfinished movies you guys have is astronomically long because this happens so often

you can tell if it’s been a bad day when he comes home and immediately goes to hide away from everything in your neck.

you just hold him there for as long as he needs

sometimes he will talk about it, other times he will just sit there, quietly sniffling while you comb your hands through his hair to bring him a little comfort

05. han jisung - clings to you

i will forever and always stand by the fact that han jisung is one clingy motherfucker okay

like i’m talking he launches himself at you the moment you step through the door when you get home

will not let you go for at least 5 minutes

“hanji, babe, can you at least let me put my things down first?”

the little fucker would hold you tighter and pout “nooo, i just missed you so much, wanna hold you for a few more minutes”

definitely calls it his “recharging time”

will 100% get all whiny and pouty if he doesn’t get to hug you for as long as he wants to

somehow manages to be the worlds biggest blanket hog and the worlds biggest cuddler at the same time

half the time you wake up freezing cold on one side and burning up on the other from where he has cocooned himself in all the blankets and then clung onto you for dear life

does not shy away from sticking to you in front of his friends

if you guys have a movie night with everyone in the dorms, he is not content until you are sat in his lap with his arms wrapped around you and his head pressed against yours

bonus points if it’s a scary movie and you sit sideways in his lap so you can hide your face in his neck when it gets too spooky

06. lee felix - squeezes you

this man just has so much love and happiness to spread, he can’t help but squeeze the life out of you every time he sees you

it doesn’t matter how long it’s been either

a day, a week, hell even if you just go to take a shower and come back he’s squeezing you as soon as you return

most definitely shakes you a bit while holding on to you for dear life

grabs you and does the fully body vibrate thing just to annoy you

sometimes he gets a little carried away and you’ll have to remind him that you actually Do need to breathe at some point

“lix, baby, i can’t- i can’t really breathe-“

“oh!” he’d giggle bc ofc he would, “i’m sorry baby, sometimes i just forget how tightly i’m holding you.”

gives you tiny reassuring squeezes when you need them tho

he can somehow always tell when you’re having even the slightest of bad days

also can tell exactly what kind of squeeze you need

if you come home upset, he’s right there to grab you and hold you tight, kissing the side of your head as the tears that have been building up all day finally come crashing down

tries to physically squeeze the sadness from you because he hates seeing you like this :(

if you come home mad, he’ll sit with you while you rant about your day and offer small, reassuring squeezes to your shoulder to show you he’s listening

07. kim seungmin - rests his head on / against yours

idk smth about seungmin just screams that he loves to rest his head on or against yours

and if he’s tall enough to place his chin on the top of your head? oh he’s giddy about it every single time

loves to wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind, place his chin on top of your head, and just stand there like that

is also a little shit about it ofc

“you’re so short, i can see clear over your head. how embarrassing.”

“yeah, but you love it.”

he does indeed love it.

he loves that he can rest his head against yours if he needs a little recharge and he loves the smell of your shampoo and he loves how close your temple is for him to kiss

oh that’s another thing

he will kiss your temple / forehead any chance he gets - like it’s literally his favorite thing to do

when you really need comfort, he’ll pull you close and kiss your forehead before resting his against yours while you try to forget how terrible of a day you had

softly knocks his head against yours just for the fun of it

he loves to hear you giggle and get tripped up on your words when he does it, so he’ll keep doing it until you physically have to pull yourself out of his embrace just to finish your story

08. yang jeongin - waist hugs

i just really think he would be the type to wrap his arms around your waist and never let go, ya know???

like he would always be holding your waist in some way when you’re out in public just to make it easier to tug you into his arms whenever needed

loves loves loves to slowly move his hands from your sides to your back just to tease you a little bit

will 100% use giving you a hug as an excuse to start a tickle fight tho, so always be on your toes

he’ll sneak up behind you, snake his hands around your waist while acting like the innocent and sweet and loving bf he is

and then as soon as you let your guard down he’s going in for the kill, digging his fingers into your sides and tickling the life out of you

won’t stop until you call mercy

“i’m going to have to take away your hugging privileges if all you’re going to use them for is to tickle me.”

“you wouldn’t dare to take them away. you love my hugs far too much for that.”

walks away all smugly because he know he’s right. you would never deny him a hug, even though you know the risk of it ending in tickles

loves to gently run his hands up and down your sides while he’s listening to you talk

he’ll definitely slide them under the hem of your shirt

sometimes this is to place his freezing cold hands against your warm skin to make you jump, other times it’s to provide comfort when you need it

he’s slide his hands under you shirt and gently runs his hands up and down your bare sides and back when you’ve had a particularly rough day

[fairestwriting]

HI omg I love ur writing sm!! Also sorry im new to tumblr so im sorry if this is incorrect u can ignore it :)

I wanted to know if I could request Jamil, Azul and Leona with an S/O that barely sleeps because they stay up working.

Thank u sm!! :D

in celebration of me surviving my exams…… felt thematically appropriate to do this one (that i apparently had in my drafts for a while????

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

It’s one of those things he doesn’t really get. He knows you’re a hardworking person since well before you two start dating, and despite his own disillusionment on the matter… Yeah, he does admire it. You have more drive by yourself than most Savanaclaw students combined, he can’t say it’s not impressive in a way. But, the way you just give up rest time is…

”Did you really pull an all nighter for that?” He asks the first time he notices it, following a day where you’d been talking all the time about this one assignment. It comes out sounding very much like a joke, and a mean one at that… That’s not really what his intention was, his expression falters when you frown at it. Not sure how to follow it up.

He understands that your work is important to you, and he respects you too much to get aggressive over it, obviously, but… really, he can’t find this anything other than ridiculous. Is it even worth that much effort? What are you gaining from this? He doesn’t openly ask you the questions, Leona knows how biased he is when it comes to the topic. And, again, how important it is to you.

Settles for pestering you to nap with him, while he can’t wrap his head around how to approach the topic in a serious way. ”Come on. You turned it in, now you better get some sleep before you keel over.” He comes up to you whenever he finds out you’re done with your work, then straight up drags you off to bed. Yours or his, just whichever one is closest. And it *is* hard to resist falling asleep, when you’re already so tired, and everything is so cozy and warm… so his plan does work. And he’s pretty happy it does.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

No judgement, he’s done the same thing before. He kind of relates to it, to be honest. Maybe even a little too much— Maybe, so much that he’s a little bit of an enabler, at first. Though, of course, that’s not his intention at all. It just happens that he has similar habits.

It’s all lighthearted in the beginning. ”You didn’t get much sleep, did you? Not that I’m that much better off.” He jokes on some days, and asks if you want to come to the Lounge to get coffee or tea later. He asks you to let him know when you take your breaks when you’re working late, so you can commiserate over text or help each other or even just have a better spent few minutes.

He feels like he understands, whatever you reason for doing it all is. Even if it’s a lot different from his own, he still feels some level of kinship. Because you’re in it together, right? You don’t have to act like you’re not tired around him, he doesn’t have to act like he’s not tired around you. It’s comforting.

…It is also worrying after a while, though. There’s something about seeing your own bad habits reflected on loved ones that really gets to people, and Azul certainly isn’t immune to that. The texts during your shared breaks start turning much more caring, reminders for you to eat and drink water and at least not skip those breaks — Because he knows he probably won’t be able to convince you to just stop immediately. He knows it wouldn’t work with him, at least, and maybe he’s projecting a little. But it makes sense to him. And if you won’t take him up on his offer to call it a night yet, then he’ll just work with what he has. As long as it makes you feel a little bit better in the morning.

𐙚 Jamil Viper

Your hardworking nature is one of the things Jamil admires about you, maybe even one of the things that initially drew him to you — Especially considering how far you’re willing to take it. He does know that it’s not something to blindly admire, because, of course, there should be a limit to how much of yourself you’re willing to sacrifice for the sake of… excelling? Is that your reason to do it?

When he starts to see just how much sleep you’re skipping on, that dies down a bit. ”Not that I don’t think you’re doing a good job, but do you really have to stay up so late for this?” He questions you when it starts to seem like too much. It’s not that he changes his mind completely, just…

He finds himself conflicted on the topic, a bit similarly to Leona. A part of him wonders if you’re really doing this out of your volition, if there’s something that’s compelling you to be so willing to disregard your own health. Jamil will find himself wondering how to deal with that possible something, whether it’s your own thoughts tormenting you, or some form of outside force. Both options are pretty equally serious to him.

And Jamil isn’t really the most straightforward person out there, but… he really sees no way out of this other than directly asking you about it. You’ve been doing enough, more than enough, so why did you keep up with this awful routine? He’s not willing to argue on how damaging it is, he can see how vacant and honestly weak you look sometimes. And he doesn’t want that to continue, he wants to get to the bottom of the issue so it doesn’t have to continue anymore. Of course, he’s not so naive that he thinks he’ll totally change your mind with just one conversation, and if there’s really some outside force pressuring you, it’s even more complicated, but that’s not really the point— Before anything else, he wants you to know that you’re doing well, that he cares, and that he wants to help however he can.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[fishnapple]

🔞 Channelled message:

The first time that they feel desire for you & their fantasies

(lover/partner/future spouse)

This is an old reading, I actually have this type of readings stashed away in my draft from months ago but could never find the right time to post them. So here is one of them. Enjoy.

Disclaimer : Contain mature contents. Minors (under 18y/o) do not interact.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

AGATE

Are you generally this flirty and aggressive with other people or only with me? I'm worried. Other people shouldn't be able to witness this side of yours. Am I a possessive person by nature or I'm only like that towards you? I don't know anymore.

I was perfectly contented with my daily life, structure and routine bring peace to my mind. I could be a very repetitive person, don't find me boring, I won't be like that with you. Do you know why? You jolted me out of this safety shell and plunged me into a strange land by that playful and straightforward way of yours.

The moment you came closer to me with that broad smile and that heat, oh, that heat, I could feel it in my skin even when you were not touching me at all. Thanks to you, I've discovered that I have the hot for aggressive people, or it's just you. I imagined you grabbing me and bestowed me with a passionate kiss, then whispered into my ears how much you wanted me. It sent a shiver down my spine. I'm not gonna lie, I felt instantly aroused, I hope that I didn't make a fool of myself in front of you. Just know this, I will have no problem getting aroused whenever you initiate it.

You protested that it wasn't how you behave? Well, it's true, you weren't exactly that sexually aggressive towards me like that, not yet, not in the beginning. You probably were just having some fun, playing some games, tackling some creative projects, or recounting some fun stories while I looked at you and wished that passion of yours would be directed at me instead.

You were so brilliant, a walking flame. You awaken my desire like lightning striking down a tree. My mind went into fantasy land and imagined what it would be like, holding you in my arms, naked, both of us, our chests pressed against each other, touching that soft skin, both outside and inside. What we could discover about each other, what we could experience together. I wanted to be risky, to pour all of my desires on you, to taste you everywhere, to do it until we're both overwhelmed, to see where the limit is, and push through it.

Another thing that I have to confess is that at that time, that feeling was pure lust. I hadn't developed romantic feelings for you yet. But my desire for you will haunt me, I won't be able to decipher the reason. Until someday, when I finally looked deep into my feelings, after questioning it thoroughly, I will arrive at the conclusion, the inevitable, that you are the one for me.

Note: this person will develop sexual desire for you when they see you putting effort into something creative, when you were having fun, showing jest and passion for life, being assertive in a playful, flirty way. It may be a random moment, not a big event. That attitude will be a contrast to their usual way in life, so they will find it exhilarating and freeing. That will also affect their fantasies about you, wanting to be free, having no limit, indulging in each other, touching your deepest place. There could also be some exhibitionistic desire, somewhere a little open with the risk of being seen. Other than that, they don't really have any specific kink or particular fantasy. They are mostly go with the flow style.

FLOURITE

Does me saying I love your tears turns you off? Don't worry, I will never be the one that makes you cry, or at least I will try not to be one. We can cry together, you can cry in front of me. The sight of your tears will tear my heart open and let out this feeling that I myself wasn't aware of before.

I was really grateful that you chose to be open with me, telling me your pains that no one else had ever known. It's my honour. At that moment, I felt as if our hearts had been bridged, your emotions flowed into mine, I won't even know what was yours, what was mine. I will feel this rage inside, toward life, maybe? How could life give you so many pains like that. You were just yourself, yet people couldn't have the bravery to face that realness. Please don't ever dim your light for other people or for anything.

But that rage will be accompanied by desire. My desires are tied to my emotions. The more intense the emotion, the more intense my desire will be. I will feel this instinctive urge to protect you. Destruction and protection go hand in hand. I wanted to force all those painful memories out of you and burn them, to replace them with memories of me.

I felt a war inside me. I wanted to touch you softly, caressing every part of you, to tell every inch of you that it's okay, to wrap you with pleasure so much that those tears will be tears of pleasure (oh no, will that make me the one that makes you cry? I'm willing to be the offender then). But I also wanted to grab and take you into me, to push you so hard that we would become one, whatever I do, you still feel so distant to me. I got impatient.

But I won't act on that desire. I will be gentle, I will be the comfy bathtub that you drown yourself in after a long day. To be the warm water in the tub, lapping over you. Can you feel my heat? You don't need to do anything. Let me take care of you.

Note: This person will feel an intense desire to protect you and to soothe you. To them, emotions go hand in hand with sexual desire. So the moment that their emotions and yours are heightened will be the point where they feel sexual desire for you. At that time, you could be telling them about past pains of yours, likely from childhood, it related to being an individual, isolation, not fitting in, of loss. You will be crying, the tears will be the trigger.

This person has the ability to connect emotionally with other people. The connection of emotions will lead to the connection of bodies. They are gentle but have a more aggressive side to them, a little extreme. I feel like the moment they feel desire for you will lead to your first time with each other. The fantasies will stay in their head, but they won't act on them completely. It could also come as a surprise for you. You may not be fully aware of the extent that is their desire for you.

They have a liking for water and wetness, be it the water around you when you are having sex or the water coming from you. So they might like to give you oral, shower sex, licking, dripping, spilling. They will also like to talk to you to instil their own fantasies into your mind so that you will share the same fantasies for each other. They want to achieve oneness.

CARNELIAN

I suppose that I wasn't being honest with you. Hiding all my problems and weakness, my insecurities were many, you know, they weighted heavily on my mind. Every night, they would come in, haunting my sleep. Life is heavy to me, I'm a fearful person. I've never felt safe in this world. My foundation is lacking. It felt like I was living in a castle made from cardboard, ready to collapse at any moment. And how can I welcome another human being into this shabby castle of mine? That was how I thought about our relationship. I wasn't courageous enough, I let my demons whisper in my ears while you were there, caring, with the gentlest love that I've got.

It was until we had our first serious argument with the possibility of you leaving that I was awakened. It felt like hearing something exploded. I was disoriented, the first thought that sprang to my mind was to hold you, firmly, to drag you into my cardboard castle, to let you see it all, without care how it could collapse with both of us inside.

I thought that if I prepared enough, I would be confident, I would be able to show you our bright future together. But when will be enough? I'm ashamed that it had to take an argument for me to realise it, that my desire for you would be ignited in such a negative situation, human sure are weird creatures, don't you think?

No, I didn't act out that first thought, I just grabbed your hand and apologised, like a good and polite human. My heart was awakened, but that doesn't mean my mind would just quietly follow suit.

After that incident, I found myself thinking about it again and again. I would relive the argument but put an erotic twist to it. (TW: dubious consent) I imagine me being rough and acting all assertive. Without a second word, I would pull your turning back close to me and kiss your neck and shoulder from behind, arms caging you so tight, you would feel a little suffocated. Then, as I feel you getting softer, I would let my hands trace every inch of your body, with you still a little miffed but can't resist my touch. I imagined you being pleasured until you let out a soft moan, shaking in my arms.

Then I would turn your head around to face me and kiss you with my all, without being afraid that you would find out all my insecurities and all that unsightly parts of me.

Note: This person could be quite emotionally distant, afraid to commit because of their insecurities. They are restrained and tend to overthink everything, to the extent of being paranoid. They are in their head more than their heart, their heart is a dangerous place for them.

There will be a point where you are tired of the uncertainty and distance in this relationship. The situation would be when you go on a date with them, something not quiet right will happen, something small, but you will argue and the argument leads to a bigger issue. You will want to walk away. This is when they realise the possibility of losing you, like a Tower moment. They don't want that to happen, so they will grab your hand and apologise, explaining their problems. Some kind of commitments will be formed. And also the desire for you.

They have a more aggressive and earthy side to them that is hidden and only comes out in their fantasies. They would want to pleasure you from behind, making you feel their feelings for you through physical touch. The focus is on you. They imagine themselves to be more brave, to open their heart for you to see without a care in the world.

AMETHYST

Ah, our first kiss, our sweet, sweet, first kiss. I can still recall the taste of you exactly, just like being on that day again.

Do you remember it too? We even took a picture of us kissing, to solidify our memory together, a celebration for our love. I felt so warm, like a sun has found refugee inside me. The kiss transported me into a magical land, into our future together, our journey has started.

I will be thinking way far ahead, about how our wedding will be, where will our honeymoon be spent, how our first night as a married couple will be, how our kids would look like, how we would be worried about their future and finally have some rest together in the old age. I didn't know that I was such a planner, or was I a dreamer? No, I'm a magician, I will make our dreams come true. Yes, brace yourself and start looking forward to it.

I have a commitment kink. There, I've said it, loud and clear. The moment we solidify our commitment to each other (I like the word 'solidify', like heavy concrete that we could sit on) will be the moment all my passion broke free and come running to you.

Do you think our lifetime plan in my head is just some innocent planning? No, I'm a sucker for details. No detail of our life will escape my mind. Including our sex life. What kind of domestic life could be without the pleasure.

Just like when we were dating, we will continue on being smitten with each other well into our trembling-hands-and-hair-whitening era. You and I will make sure that passion is never lacking in our relationship.

We will talk about it a lot, seriously and flirtatiously, teasing each other, then sit down and discuss it, like a research project. We will try many different things, getting feedback from each other, then calibrating the system until it reaches perfection. We will also tell each other about our deepest fears and painful memories, then we will kiss each other better every time.

Let's grow together. Let's run our naked bodies along the seashore like little kids, collecting seashells, giggling then colliding into each other.

Let's have our late night debate about the metaphysical then tearing out clothes in the process.

Let's grow trees together in our garden, let's get dirty (literally) as we embrace each other (I can't help using 'each other', I also like this word) on the soft, damp earth. Then, many years later, we will embrace each other under the shade of our grown-up trees.

Note: There's this warm and bubbly, exited energy to this person. The moment you first kissed will be when they start imagining your life together. They get turned on by commitment and the future prospects of your relationship. When they're dating, they definitely have long-term commitment and marriage in mind.

They are quite cerebral, love to think, and plan ahead. But those thoughts don't just stay in their head. They got put into reality. They like to think about the relationship as a project to build and to perfect with their partner. But they are not rigid. They like spontaneity. They want to feel the pleasurable aspect of the relationship with their partner everywhere, to make memories, to celebrate the love. Everything can lead to sex. They seem to have a preference for the outdoor and nature.

ROSE QUARTZ

Hmm, do you have some kind of superpower? The kind that can lower other people's intelligence? I felt like a toddler learning to speak for the first time when I'm around you. And this mind of mine did not feel too well about that. I'm usually the one that people look up to. I can say with some confidence that I'm an intelligent person, but being in front of you? My intelligence seemed to take a strike and went for an infinite vacation. I don't think you've noticed this dilemma in me. Thanks goodness, at least I could still appear as a good enough debate opponent for you. What's with all this talk about intelligence anyway? Because I want to know the cause and effect of things. I want to know the cause of my desire for you and the effect of it.

To put it plain and simple, you challenged me mentally. Who would have thought that I could get turned on by debating about the present school system with you? Talking about vehicles turned me on, talking about religious matters turned me on (wait, that doesn't sound right). I know you didn't do it to rile me up. You simply share your view and ideas with me, innocently. But I also know, our debates turn you on too, you can't hide that twinkle in your eyes whenever I say something controversial or go against you view. We flirt by words, our words, they clash then kiss each other. Is 'arguing' in public considered a type of PDA?

I thought I was the absolute ruler of my own mind, sitting smugly on the pile of gold, getting praised by commoners, confident that no one can match me (I'm a vain and arrogant human being okay). Then the gate was blasted open. There stood you, alone, with that bazooka for a mouth and an equally smug face. I thought that you came to steal my gold, no, that wasn't the true horror, you came to tell me that my gold was fake. Ah, how I slipped and fell, face kissing the ground. How dare you? I had to bravely stand up and charge at you, to kiss you? (Eh, I didn't expect that twist. Is this some kind of cheesy romance web novel?). Don't take it the wrong way, it's not like I'm worshiping you or anything, I just want to get close to you to study you, to pull out all of your secrets, and then? To sit at your feet and admire them, maybe? While we are in the mood, may as well dress the parts. Let's turn ourselves into characters of our own novel. Let me regain some of my dignity in my fantasies. Let me be the teacher, and you be the student, nodding admiringly at my every word. Then, while I'm drunk in your adoration, you would turn all bratty and tease me, strip me of my dignity again.

Note: I don't have much to say about this person other than you may want to save up to buy lots of costumes later on.

This person is quite arrogant and used to being admired and put on pedestal by other people. But you won't be like that to them. You challenge their world view, kick them down the pedestal, and they like that. There could be a masochistic streak in them. Wanting to be put down, to be humbled. They will want to be lured into a trap by their partner and be tricked into submission (willingly, with consent, of course). They like you to act bratty while they pretend to be frustrated and have to give in to you.

They have fantasies about role-playing, could be related to medieval themes. I don't see any particular actions, just them liking the mental stimulation and talking back and forth. To them, pleasure comes from the mind.

OBSIDIAN

Do you know about the ducklings imprinting? About how in the early period of a duckling, they capture the image and sound of a moving being into their mind, permanently solidifying this being as the object for the duckling to follow? I was like that with you.

You came into my life during my most transforming period. I felt like I was born again, leaving behind all the bad memories and disappointments. I felt weak and lonely, lost in this new world, literally, I had to move to a new place, getting used to the new environment from the start. And you were there, gently walking side by side with me. It's bittersweet how I had to go through the darkest moment in my life to meet you, but it's all worth it. You made the pains feel like distant memories.

I still remember that moment perfectly. You came to me, asking if I had eaten. I said no, and you proceeded to cook a speedy warm meal for me. I wanted to cry, honestly. Never in my life had I ever thought that food could be such a multipurpose thing, a miraculous balm, a pouring melody, a comfy blanket, a word of love. I felt full and nourished, by you.

Let me put you on the pedestal a bit, let me see you through a rose coloured glasses, let me dream about you every time sleep comes to me, temporarily or eternally. Let me return the love equal to that you've given me, or even more than that. I want to give you my all, at the same time, I want to be all that you have, as you are mine.

Sometimes, I wished that there's only the two of us in this world. How I wanted to muffle all other noises, smear all other colours, air out all the scents so that the only remaining things are your voice, your colours, and your scent. Let me paint you. Though I can't be confident that there exists a kind of paint that can convey the brilliant of your skin, your eyes, your hair. It's frustrating how I can see you crystal clear in my mind yet unable to translate the image into the canvas. In this case, could you be my canvas and let me paint myself onto you?

Note: This person has a sensitive and artistic soul. They will meet you when they've just come out of a dark tunnel, starting a new life, moved to a new place. They will get attached to your kindness and warmth. I feel like the situation when they develop desire for you for the first time will be when you are comfortable with each other already. You could come to their place, cooked for them. They could see your care, which will trigger their emotional desire for you. Their physical desire is tied to their emotional desire.

They will want to serve you, to put you on pedestal and cater to your every desire. They could be a little possessive, wanting you for themselves. They want to have sex in somewhere secluded, private and quiet, with a sparse surrounding or even empty. All of their focus will be on you. They will want to stay silent to hear your moans, eyes fixing on you all the time, and breathing in your scents everywhere. Then after the sex, they want to paint you, on canvas, you could be their muse, or paint on you with their marks. It's like your existence in their mind and in front of their eyes are still not enough.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Silent Salt's countenance is... a unique one. Not hideous, not quite, but not conventionally attractive by any means. Coupled with a cluster of scars and other ancient forms of injury further marring his face, he was never an easy one on the eyes, so to speak. He always wore the helm because it was his deeds that mattered, not his identity - or that was how he once thought, in his distant, heroic past. But, in painful, unfortunate truth, it was also partially because he simply didn't want to deal with the staring. With the shock. With the thinly veiled disgust. The forced politeness angered him the most; he knew they were lying, he knew his face perturbed them. He would've respected them so much more if they had just spoken plain.

There had always existed this shallow element of self-loathing within him; never more so than it does with regards to White Lily. She's so lovely, so captivating, and he's... he has to wear a mask all the time, just for some semblance of peace of mind. Hers is a sweet, delicate, almost ethereal beauty. He is grim and gruff and all dark, sharp edges, inside and out. If by some miracle his personality and status as Beast of Silence doesn't drive her away, then his face will. Like it had so many others.

He has never allowed anyone to remove his helm. Not even his friends and colleagues, both then and now (especially not now. Shadow Milk's petty jabs are insufferable even with Salt's face obscured; revealing it again would only escalate the jester's mockery). Even just trying to touch it sparks a terrible rage. It's his security blanket, in a way. Something that grants him a modicum of control over his supposed destiny. He cannot change how he looks, but he can at least hide it. And hide it, he will. From everyone he can, for as long as he can. From her most of all.

Perhaps he could've been more... polite in his refusal of her touch, the first few times. He saw a hand wrapped in green floating towards his face and he responded. The regret that washed over him at the sound of her yelp - startled and pained, an accessory to the tremor in her wrist born from him grasping it so tight - was overwhelming, almost suffocating, and yet... he did it again, the next attempt she made. And the one after that. And the one after that. Nevertheless, for reasons unknown, she persisted.

Must've been that morbid curiosity of hers.

The one time she asked him why he never rid himself of the helm, he answered her simply. "Because I don't want to." Five words - six, technically - conveyed to her through the curling of his fingers and the rattle of his gauntlets as he signed them to her. And she took it well, all things considered. No disappointment, no rebuttals, no further inquiries. Only a slow, thoughtful nod and nothing else. It was a mercy and a relief he didn't think he'd feel so thankful for, until he did.

Something told Silent Salt that she already knew the answer that hid behind the first one. Intuition? Their Soul Jam connection? That glint in her eye that resembled sympathy more than he would've liked? Whatever it is, it hardly matters in the end. She asked once. He answered once. She didn't ask again. That was the end of it.

With time, she grew more bold. No more reaching for his helm; it took a few tries but she learned her lesson there. Instead she let her hands rest on his cold shoulders. Trail along the dents and grooves in his chest. Take one of his gauntlets prisoner, turning it into a test subject, the apple of her curious eye as she studied the metal plates big and small encasing his fingers.

"Your hands are quite large," she remarked one day, some of it to him and some of it just to herself, her eyes still fused to the black sheet of his palm as she spoke. "My friend, Golden Cheese... She once told me that your comrade has large hands, too. Twice the size of hers, in fact. Are they bigger than yours, too?"

Yes, he told her, if his memory served. Once upon a time, Shadow Milk had tried to draft blueprints for armor that would actually suit Burning Spice's brutish proportions, and used Silent Salt's own as both a model and a controlled variable in his design experiments. Spice was as much a foolhardy thrillseeker then as he is now, charging into battle with his beads and bracelets and little else on his person. Whenever the five of them reconvened - and those meetings became fewer and fewer with time - Shadow Milk would nag him incessantly about it. Clucked at him like a mother hen would at an unruly chick. It was once his way of showing concern. Once.

The gauntlets were dirty and must have felt quite cold and unpleasant to the touch. But if White Lily minded, she made no sign of such. In fact, she showed the opposite; if he dared to believe what those slender, linen-wrapped fingers weaving through his own ironclad, mannish ones told him, she even seemed to find comfort in them. In him.

She grew bold, and he let her. A time eventually came when he could no longer help himself - but it was a hard-earned victory if there ever was one. Despite their bond, be it the one forged from their shared divinity or the one forged from their tentative friendship, his old habits and reservations still bound him in chains; memories from a time long gone, of men and women shying away from his sight. Of children rudely gawking. As darkness descended upon his soul, he came to resent them and their harsh reactions, for it was because of them that he looked like this in the first place. Every blade that carved into the flesh of his cheeks. Every creature with terrible claws that sought his eyes as trophies. Every gauntlet that looked just like his own that punched, slapped, poked; whatever the owner could do to leave behind their mark of conquest and shame. Silent Salt endured it all for their sake, and all the thanks he ever got was being gazed upon as a freak. A cautionary tale. A garish art display.

The world branded him a monster long before he ever became one. What reason did they have to be so distraught when he finally did? Is this not what they always believed him to have been anyway?

But White Lily took no part in this wholesale rejection. How could she, when deep down, she was hardly any different? And who would he be to continue mimicking his persecutors, like he has been for far too long?

One day, he found himself under a microscope again. It was cute, how her brow would furrow the slightest bit and she would start to purse her lips the stronger her single-minded focus became. A strand of snow white hair escaped its place atop her head and came dangling, teasing the tip of her nose; yet still, it went ignored in favor of the knight looming past it. Few questioned Silent Salt's bravery, himself included, but now... now he can feel his accursed face growing warm at the thought of tucking that rogue strand of hair behind her ear. Such a deceptively simple thing.

He stood still as a statue as her hands traveled up the metallic expanse of his torso. Up, up, up, along plates that had long lost their smoothness and shine, dipping into scratches and dents left by friend and foe alike, those old scars he wore on the outside. Sneaking past a familiar silhouette, just barely grazing the tips of that fabled fleur-de-lis. He never envied Burning Spice and where his own Soul Jam resided, but in hindsight, perhaps Silent Salt was never much better. With how seldomly he removed his armor, it may as well be his flesh by now. And within his flesh the Light of Silence nested, glowing brighter and emitting a faint pulse upon White Lily's brief disturbance. A broken heart, still as death, woken from its eternal slumber. Dared to beat again by she who held onto its missing half.

Her hands rose to his neck. Some ancient warrior's instinct demanded he take action against this would-be assassin, but he paid it no mind. He knew better. Not that White Lily wasn't capable of such barbarism; she has proven differently a thousand times over by now. He simply knows what an assassin looks like, and what a liar feigning innocence looks like, too - and now, in this moment, White Lily was neither.

His breath caught in his throat when those hands grasped at his head and he felt his helmet begin to rise. Slowly, carefully, betraying their master's hesitation. There was a slight tremor in her wrists - was she expecting him to suddenly reach up and grab her again? To try to stop her?

...The former came to pass, that much was true. But instead of pushing her away, this time, he found the courage to do the opposite: with his hands eclipsing her own, he guided them up and away, taking his helmet with them.

He loosened his grip just enough to let her hands go free. From there, he lowered his helmet and held it tight - so much so that that telltale rattling filled both their ears.

It felt strange for the wind and sun caress his skin again after so long. Once upon a time, he welcomed their embrace; once upon a time, they were a beloved respite, the only reward he ever wanted for himself after a long battle. They never ran away or judged him for this unfortunate face of his; in fact, once upon a time, he might've said and thought that they were the only ones in the whole world that ever believed he was handsome.

White Lily did not run away. She did not veil her disgust behind false politeness. She did not judge that unfortunate face of his.

All he could behold in her own face and eyes was that same old curiosity, adorned with that familiar glint of sympathy and shadowed by sorrow.

She gave her hands back to him. Cradled his face as he cradled his helm, albeit more gently. Ran her thumb over a faded gash in his cheek. Ghosted her fingertips over the claw marks crisscrossing over his eyes.

Silent Salt wondered if she'd already guessed his eyes are purple. He didn't ask. She probably did.

"It must have been terrible," she murmured, some of it to him and some of it to herself, as she observed the scar that threatened to split his hairline.

He nodded. She said no more, but there was no need; he understood what she meant. "It must have been terrible, how you earned each of these." "It must have been terrible, how others would shun you for what you endured." "It must have been terrible, how you felt compelled to hide behind a mask all this time, for lack of remembering any other way to exist." Only White Lily could say so much with so little. He always cherished it.

Through her quiet, endless searching, he could sense that she wanted to know more. In her eyes were questions that she wouldn't let out of her mouth. She wanted to know where the scars came from. What caused them. Who. How. Why.

Despite that morbid curiosity of hers, she did not ask. Although it likely pained her, she held her tongue and gave him peace. This was something else Silent Salt admired, something else that made him favor her above all others. For unlike others, her politeness was real.

He caught her stealing a glance at his lips, the faintest shade of pink tinting her cheeks as she did so. Gone were her sorrow and sympathy, leaving curiosity behind. In their place came... something else.

Perhaps the wind and sun weren't the only ones who believed he was handsome anymore.

She grew bold, and took a step closer - the only step left to take, with how close they already stood. Placing her feet atop his own in a small, adorable way to compensate for her height.

Only now did his supposed bravery return, and grant him the strength to tuck that strand of hair behind her ear. She seemed surprised, more so by his sudden gesture than she'd ever been by his face, the warm color in her cheeks turning more vibrant. He wondered if she could see that he felt just as bashful. She probably did.

She stood on her tiptoes, inviting him to tilt his head down with the soft nudge of her palm against the nape of his neck. He did so without resistance; now it was her turn to guide him.

She grew bold, and pressed a kiss to his scarred lips. And he let her.

[bie-tch]

Very rough outline of my monstrosity au. I call it Odyssey!Kai. Yes it's an epic the musical pun. I'm very happy with it

Oooo been thinking about this for a hot minute. Was in my drafts for longer.

The imperium arc goes different too, Lloyd getting afraid at seeing Wyldfyre, her being fire adjacent and all, and thinking Kai is dead since she has his "fire" powers. After they get back to the Monastery, Zane actually becomes Wyldfyres mentor. The reason is that he finds her endearing and sees himself in her (not knowing who you are or where you came from). I have concept art rotting in my gallery, but it's not done yet sowy.

In this one, Kai doesn't find the bounty. Nya does. So she finds Lloyd first and traverses the merged lands for information. This, of course, creates irreparable damage to our boy. He does not go home early this time.

S2 has 4 major changes. Wyldfyre is slightly calmer, Lloyd has visions of both the bloodmoon and a mysterious figure cloaked in fur and blood (that he can't help but feel pain for, he doesn't know why), Nya learns dragon rising technique first, and Cole gets sacrificed instead of Kai. Besides that, mostly the same. Maybe they struggle a bit with the Ras showdown, but it ends the exact same way with Nokt free.

S2 p2 has the most differences. For one, Geo and the finders live with the ninja now. He feels guilty for letting Cole 'die' like that, so he's thrown himself into training. He's doing well, and the finders are having fun with arin, sora, and wyldfyre. The monastery is definitely more full, but the ninja still feel the absences of Kai, Cole, and Jay.

Next, Cole isn't doing that bad in the ns. He's got bonzle, he can use his powers to shape the space since it's technically rock, and enough stories to last a lifetime. He's fine.

Zane and Wyldfyre bond more. He tells her stories and videos about Kai and how they'd get along, and she is ecstatic. Another fire user, how exciting!

Arin and sora are still looking for his parents. Still find the matriarch dead.

Meanwhile, Kai has all but lost it. He isn't insane, but his morals have all but been destroyed. The only thing he cares about is getting back to his family and anything and anyone that has come in between that has now died or burned to death. The guardian dragon and fire knight mech are his permanent companions, and they respect his decision to change his values. One can not survive being in the land of the monsters without becoming one themselves, anyway.

The tournament of sources plays out the exact same. If you're wondering about frak, zane took up Cole's role in the og series. When Jay and Nya fight, he actually comes very close to winning. Nya can't bring herself to hurt him, since this time she doesn't have her brother to kinda fill his void. Jay is about to eliminate her until a fire ball the size of a car chucks Jay into the nearest wall.

Nya and the rest of the ninja are horrified because, duh, and she rushes to his side. Jay is unconscious, and she looks to where the fireball came from. Everyone is so in shock that they don't even recognize that it was a fire ball. Except Wyldfyre, then Zane. He tries to tell Lloyd, but there a crowd blocking his way.

All Nya sees are security bots wrangling a hooded figure, but they're being dismantled by the second in a flurry of slashes. Also, it doesn't help that there are two giants (mech and dragon) just looking down at him saying something she can't hear. She can only make out a subtle, "Do you want them to see you like this?" Before the stranger flinches and finally calms down. He allows himself to be arrested.

When the source dragons send out those little messages for each elemental master, Kai actually gets one since he hasn't encountered ras yet. The messenger dragon leads him out of the realm of monsters, but it's still pretty far. He gets there, but it takes a day or two. Or three. That's why he's late.

Roby comes forward, and he is just upset. Absolutely annoyed. He says something about wanting to see the face of the perpetrator, and that sends Kai into another frenzy. He doesn't want his family to him like that. He fails this time, though, and his hat and mask are pulled off.

You can guess what happens next.

Roby is actually happy with the change of events, calling it an epic plot-twist, but the ninja?

The reunion is short-lived, as he's wrung away for interfering with a match. The ninja tried to get to him, but doing so could get them disqualified, so they bite their lips and accept it unwillingly. Not knowing what to do with the mech and dragon, they just give it to the ninja. Both parties accept.

All I have so far wowowowowow

[gumilac]

pairings. fushiguro megumi x gn! reader

genre. hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers

word count. 2.4k words 

aki's notes. this was in my drafts a long time ya’ll,, but i still think it's obvious how much romance novels i've read and how much i love the enemies to lovers trope 🧍‍♀️ buckle up, this is gonna be a long one,, i hope you enjoy!!! i certainly did writing this hehe

"they said yes to the movie date!! i'm gonna catch you later, okay?"

oh.

oh. 

"yes, sure! have fun." we were supposed to watch that movie…

your trail of thought snaps: get it together, they were never bound to be yours in the first place.

forcing a smile, you wave itadori-san off as he skips his way out of the grounds of jujutsu tech high. he looks so happy, and there's pep in each of his steps as itadori checks his phone. taking a deep breath, you turn around, head craned down as you start walking. then, something cold softly hits your head, and when you look up, it's the last person you wanted to see—fushiguro megumi.

he's holding out your favorite juice box, his face nonchalant as ever, and one hand in his pocket. for someone who's the bane of your existence, you don’t understand how he always seems to be there at the right time, all the time. what’s even worse is that you can't deny he looks attractive, no matter what he does.

"it's your favorite, no?" he waves the juice in front of your face, gesturing for you to grab it, "take it, i accidentally bought two."

scoffing, you grab the juice box—muttering a small thank you—and roll your eyes before taking a seat on the steps of the dorm building. ripping out the straw, you poke open the box.

"how does one even accidentally buy two juice boxes from a vending machine?" taking a sip, you stretch your legs and relax—again how can you hate him, yet security is always at reach whenever he’s around?

"well, maybe because i pressed the button twice and added more change than i was supposed to?" he sits beside you and opens his own, grabbing the remnants of your plastic that encases the straw and pocketing it. "it's not rocket science."

clicking your tongue, you look away. too tired to deal with his witty remarks or just dealing with him overall. it's quiet for a few moments as you stare at the trees that slowly dance with the crisp breeze that blows over the fields of your school.

"why are you always so nice?"

his voice pulls you back to reality, and you look at him. fushiguro's also staring at the scenery before him, eyebrows furrowed a little—maybe from the brightness of the sun, or maybe it's just second nature for him at this point with how he's always wears a scowl.

jerking your head and scrunching up your nose, you look at him, head tilting, "because i'm not an asshole?" 

"that's not what i meant," he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"well, do tell fushiguro," you snap, taking a sip from the juice box, "because i genuinely don't know what you mean if you're going to beat around the bush."

fushiguro sighs and lowers his juice down, resting his arms just above his knees. you look at him expectantly, confused, maybe a little pissed. when he doesn't speak in the next minute, you roll your eyes and avert your gaze somewhere else, somewhere more pleasing to look at—not that you're implying he isn't a sight to look at. 

he is. 

that's the irritating part.

a few more minutes pass before he finally breaks the tense air surrounding you both,"why do you always give so much to people, when you know they won't reciprocate your feelings?"

you lower the juice box down, the sudden hit of reality settling over you. the impact of his words knocking the air out of you, literally. but you refuse to believe it, most especially if it comes from him.

 you should not be hearing this from megumi. for god’s sake of all the people!

"because everyone deserves kindness in their life," you casually say, "just because i'm nice to someone, doesn’t mean i immediately want them to reciprocate my feelings."

"not everyone," and there’s a slight jab in his tone. but for what it’s worth it it’s probably because he’s always so snappy—it almost comes naturally.

"so you're saying itadori does not deserve kindness? even after all he's been through? even if he doesn't like me bac—"

shit.

you just outed yourself.

megumi lowers his head, and you swear you saw him smirk, but you're not sure. he lifts his head and takes a sip of his own juice.

"forgive me for overstepping boundaries–" cutting him off, you snap, "since when did you not overstep my boundaries?"

megumi brushes you off with a sigh, crushing his juice box with one hand—he's finished. his cerulean hues look at you, his gaze steady, almost careful. like the unperturbed surface of water in a pond.

"but, why do you fall so easily?"

what?

your throat closes up, making it hard to speak. much to your own dismay, hot tears pool at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall. but, you keep your resolve, despite the shakiness in your voice.

"e-excuse me?"

"i know, with the way you look at him."

scoffing, you look away, hiding your face from him. as you take deep subtle breaths to stop yourself from crying, you miss the way megumi watches you intently. he sees the slight trembling of your shoulders as you exhale, the subtle sighs you let out, and he wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms.

but... he knows you hate him. so he doesn't reach out to you.

"it's none of your business," swallowing hard, you look at him, brows furrowed, "and since when did we ever get close to talk about things like this?"

he shrugs, and scoots closer. nestling his chin at the palm of his hand as he rests his elbow on his knee. he grabs your finished juice box and sets it both beside him, and you watch as it disappears behind megumi—has he been practicing his shadow’s technique? show-off.

"i think it's because we're not close…” he says carefully, almost calculated; choosing his next words wisely, “that i'm bold enough to ask this."

rolling your eyes, you force out an irritated laugh before poking your cheek with your tongue and shaking your head, "makes no sense but, okay."

he stares at you intently, waiting for you to look at him during this whole conversation, "you haven't answered my question."

snapping your head to look at him, your eyes narrow, glaring at his irritatingly handsome face—seriously, it's not fair.

there’s venom laced in your tone, but megumi knows it's anything but, "i don't have to.”

his eyes mimic yours, and there's something about the look in his pretty dark, cerulean eyes that make you cave in. his eyes drown you, pulling you in like the rushing waves of oceans—the vulnerability of it all threatening to blow you wide open.

swallowing the lump in your throat, your voice trembled with every word you say. "because i've always given—" for someone you’ve sworn to hate, you have no feelings of doubt or reluctance towards him. 

"because i've always yearned." 

these are thoughts you’ve never spoken to anyone, never admitted to anyone else, even to yourself. but with megumi, everything seems to flow so easily. maybe he’s right, less strings attached makes it easier to open up. 

either that, or maybe it’s the way his presence always seems to be consistent—you can always weirdly count on him to be there. you were always careful around people, always made sure not to say too much. you're like a tightrope walker, balancing on your shoulders the weight of opening up, or keeping to yourself.

"because i was always the one pining, the one yearning. if you've lived your whole life as someone who chases something—or someone, for this matter—being given the smallest of attention starts to matter." 

tears start rolling down your face and you have no other choice than to cup your head in your hands. the silence becomes deafening, irritating almost; wasn’t he the one who started all this? and now he shuts the fuc–

a soft pat lands on your head. 

megumi wasn’t the best at comforting, but he did always find a way to provide solace. you slowly look up and take a peek through clouded eyes. he stares straight ahead, softly caressing your head. and there’s an expression you rarely—never, actually—see on his face.

vulnerability.

it takes him a while, a minute of just letting your words hang in the air before finally moving his hand down your back. his voice is low, yet sure. he always was certain of his words.

“i guess you could say i feel the same way.”

huh?

he finally looks at your blotchy, flushed face and pulls out a navy handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to you. gently taking it from him, you mutter a small thank you, highly aware that his hands have now moved down to your back, where he rubs soothing circles. as you wipe tears and snot off your face, you find yourself once again, drowning in his gaze.

“what do you mean?”

he cocks his head, a gentle tease in his voice as he says your name, “oh c’mon. you seriously can’t be that dense?”

irritation slowly replaces the sadness on your face once again. can he seriously cut the shit? 

“dense about what, fushiguro?”

he furrows his brows and megumi starts to slowly feel exasperated, “how does one actually even buy two juice boxes?” 

and at this point, it’s just the both of you mimicking each other’s expression, “i don’t know? you put too much change and press the button twice? what the fuck, man. you said it yourself.”

he takes a deep breath, slowly composing himself. the last thing he wants is for this to escalate further than it should—you two always did have the habit of blowing things out of proportion. 

his next words were cryptic, but again, certain, “why do you think we’re always paired together on missions?” 

confusion sets itself in your tone, “i don’t know? for you to show off?” 

okay, this is getting further and further away from his point. and to make matters worse, “i just saw you make our juice boxes disappear with your shadow’s technique.”

rolling your eyes, you instinctively turn your body away from him, “don’t think i didn’t see that. i did, fushiguro. you were always a show off and i hated it about you.”

“jesus christ,” he lifts his hand away from your back and gently shakes his fists. god this was infuriating. “i– wasn’t … i am not a show off.” 

“then do tell, fushiguro”

he sighs, “i tell gojo-san to pair us together.”

okay, old news? 

standing up, megumi takes a few paces away before coming back to tower over you. god he was tall. he puts his hands in his pocket and cranes his head down. and there’s a slight shake in his breath as he breathes—finally choosing to be the bigger person to say things outright as they are.

“it’s so i can protect you …” he shakes his head, keeping his gaze on his shoes as he crumbles the pebbles beneath his feet. 

“i have always been complacent about my capabilities but … ever since you came here i found myself wanting to perfect my technique. just so i can protect you when the time comes.”

missing the way you stood up, he finally met your gaze and he’s a little surprised that you were now at eye-level. tilting your head, you search the depth of his eyes for more answers and he wishes that you’d find it already because he’d rather get throttled by nue, than to have to confess all over again if this flew right over your head.

“you don’t … hate me?”

thank god he won’t get thrown off.

he scoffs and a frown sets itself on his features, “you hated me. not the other way around. you were always sure to make it known.”

the way he says it with so much conviction, as if he’d already convinced himself that you were always going to despise him forever, makes your heart break a little. you slowly reach out and gently pat his head, the action making megumi’s eyes go wide, “i don’t hate you, megumi…” 

and he waits, almost relishing in this small affectionate moment. 

“i hated the way i always found myself drawn to you,” pursing your lips, you continued. an epiphany hits you and it finally all makes sense, “i guess i was just lying to myself for liking itadori out of pity that i took it out on you.” 

megumi presses his lips in a thin line and was about to speak when you cut him off, “also, the show-off thing was real. i really thought you were always trying to outdo me since we have similar techniques … so, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.“ and teasingly, he adds, “i would be upset too if someone was better than me in everything.” gasping, you light pat his head a bit harder making him wince, but he takes no offense. in fact, he smiles a little bigger, relishing in your disbelief.

“not everything! i can do my domain expansion without passing out every time i cast it. thank you very much.”

“harsh of you to say that.”

megumi pushes your hand away, smirking, and begins walking up the steps to get away from you. in the pursuit of your defense you catch up to him, taking two strides for every one step he takes.

“i’m also really good at baseball,” you quip and he abruptly stops, making you almost trip over yourself—megumi swiftly catching you in time. he raises an inquiring brow, helping you get steady, “i wouldn’t bet on that.”

“oh– but we will, fushiguro.”

megumi smiles and starts walking again; this time, you keep up, continuing to pester him with all of the things you find yourself better at than him. and even though words may have not been exchanged about being civilized friends. 

there is a change of heart between you both.

maybe, just maybe fushiguro megumi found a way into yours. it’s almost like he has a key to your padded heart wherein he didn’t break your walls. he just quietly let himself in and you hate that you don't have it in yourself to kick him out.

[camerahaterlittle]

Jealousy Jealousy | Lucy Bronze

Summary: Lucy feels something she shouldn't after she first held you and had to give you back to Millie

Warnings: Bad writing grammer and honestly I think that's it if not do tell me so I can adjust this a bit oh this is pretty short since this was supposed to be a small headcanon but I turned it into a mini fic

Notes: if you've requested something i promise I'm gonna get to it but I'm being destroyed by uni work so I have to post finished drafts also apart of the Squish universe but can be read alone

When Lucy got the call from Millie that she was going to the hospital because her water broke, she never left the training grounds so quickly in her entire time of playing professionally she was in her car faster than anyone could possibly blink.

She broke a few traffic laws just to get to the hospital, ignoring the honks from other people on the streets as she sped down there all the way to the hospital.

Lucy ran inside, walking up to the counter and looking at the worker in front of her she took a few deep breaths before speaking her arms, resting on the counter. "Millie Bright, I'm here to see Millie." Her words came out at a rapid pace. The worker only stared at her sighing. "Only family of the patient can be let into the labor room." The worker stated as she looked back at her computer screen starting to type up a storm once again.

The English woman sighed, sitting down in the waiting room, not wanting to argue or lie about who she was to her friend, so she waited and waited up until it was well into the night the workers at the hospital now overly tired Lucy waited for her chance to bolt down the hallway looking around for a moment before she ran hoping to find Millie's room without a problem.

"Ma'am! Stop you can't-." Lucy ignored the calls from one of the doctors not stopping for a moment until she reached the labor part of the hospital at least that's what the sign she passed said.

She finally stopped running, her breathing ragged as she looked around, trying to find some inductor on where her teammate was she pulled out her phone, texting Millie, hoping she wasn't asleep just yet asking her what her room number was.

It didn't take long for the fellow defender to respond texting her back with a simple "my room number is 125" not really questioning why Lucy was asking her this question at all.

Lucy rubbed her forehead as she looked at all the numbers on the doors, finally finding the one Millie was in entering the room immediately shutting the door behind her as she made her way to sit next to Millie groaning as she sat down in the uncomfortable hospital chair her and the fellow English woman falling into an eqsy conversation.

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

You didn't make your appearance until the early hours of the morning, Lucy being 95% sure that Millie messed up something in her hand when she was in the process of pushing you out of her body.

The cries subsided as you were cleaned off and handed to Millie being placed on her chest immediately calming down when you made contact with your mother's skin the new found mother smiling as she let out a sigh of relief much like Lucy did as Millie finally released her hand.

Lucy didn't get to hold you until it was well into the night, and you started crying for an unknown reason at the time (she soon realized it was because you were rudely awoken by the people outside of the room) your aunt immediately walking over to your little crib next to your mom's hospital bed picking you up shushing you as she lightly bounced holding you close to her.

She walked over to the bed/couch she was lying on, sitting down singing a random lullaby that she remembered off the top of her head almost immediately. You stopped crying, sniffling as you settled down in her arms, liking the slightly rumble in her chest from the singing.

"I've got you bubs, your aunt Luce is here." She whispered in your ear, looking down at you as she pressed the most gentle kiss to the top of your head seeing that you were almost out like a light.

Lucy smiled softly when she looked down at you after singing another random lullaby. Seeing that you were back asleep, she glanced over at Millie to make sure she was still asleep, thankful to see that she was still, in fact, knocked out she most definitely needed all the rest she could get after having you.

She ended up staying up for the rest of the night watching over you as you slept peacefully on her without stirring once Millie eventually woke up immediately looking over at your crib when she didn't see you there she started to panic as she looked over at Lucy ready to wake her up but she was silenced when she saw you and Lucy together just laying there.

"Luce, you could've woke me up. i would've stayed with her." Millie spoke suddenly, feeling guilty that her teammate had to say up half the night with you just so you could sleep peacefully.

"No, you needed sleep, and I just wanted to hold her for a bit." She said her words were coming out as a soft whisper, so she didn't wake you up.

Millie was somewhat shocked by her words and the care by which she was holding you in her arms. The sight to her was the best she knew right then, and there that she wouldn't ever have to be alone when it came to you, not when Lucy was there willing to lose sleep for you like this.

You finally stirred, starting to cry once more. Your mother opened her arms, Lucy slowly getting up and walking over towards the bed, handing you to Millie, then sitting back down watching as you latched onto her immediately, getting what you wanted.

Lucy felt an odd feeling as she watched this happen in front of her one that she wasn't used to feeling at all she knew exactly what this feeling was, but she didn't know why exactly she felt this way as she watched you with Millie.

She tried thinking of every possibility of why she was feeling jealous over the scene, but she was still clueless on why she felt like this it was unknown to her in the moment all she knew was she was jealous and that was a fact.

[venmondiese]

A KING’S FAREWELL

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: As King Aegon II prepares to fight at Rook Rest, you accompany him before he departs.

✧Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Female Reader.

✧word count: 2k

✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v, fluff and angst, reader is aegon's mistress, slight foreshadowing to aegon's fate, aegon depressed for jaehaerys.

✧NOTE: i saved these from drafts, this was supposed to come out after episode 4, so all the events are from ep 4.

AEMOND'S PARALLEL ONE SHOT: A prince's farewell

“Fuck” he grunts, as his hips pound into yours, again and again. Aegon was a greedy man, and you were his favourite thing ever. 

Perhaps it was your gentleness to him that nobody else cared to show to him, or maybe it was your beauty. Not even he could know why you had him wrapped around your finger.

He knew one thing; he loved your cunt. 

As the carriage goes on and on, the King just pounds into your pussy, fucking you hard as your little wanton moans fill the carriage. He is King, and he will do whatever he wants, even if that means fucking his mistress whenever, wherever and however he wants.

Right now, it was you accommodated on the seats of the carriage, trying to hold onto the walls, the pillows, anything, as his cock entered again and again.

“Fuck, Aegon-” your little whine turns him on so badly, he grits his teeth as he practically hisses, feeling your cunt clenching around him so hard, it was driving him insane. 

Aegon was a hungry man, and he loved the pleasures of the flesh. There was probably nothing you haven’t done with him, and it pleased him very much. He loved you for it, and you loved him as well.

“I want to hear you moaning my name while I fuck this sweet dripping cunt” he mutters, picking up the speed as the lewd words fall from his lips naturally.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoing on the carriage, his hips rut more and more animalistic against yours. His hand is curled against your hip, applying the right amount of pleasure to keep you still, fucking you as you take his cock. 

“Aegon… Oh, gods…” Your moans are delight for his ears, as he groans and moans. He has never been one to be silent when fucking; he never held any sound for himself, more so when he knew you like hearing him as he liked hearing you. 

He was obsessed with every part from you. Your body, the curves of your ass, the way they sway invitingly for him, your breasts, your cunt… But, also, your mind. Aegon has never truly loved someone’s mind, and it was an odd yet comforting new feeling. 

“Fuck, you feel divine” Aegon says, biting his lower lip, as he increases his pace as he pounds into you. 

“My King, we have arrived-”

“Not now” He grunts as the servant tries to open the door of the carriage. 

You can hear the little sounds of the carriage moving, creaking at the weight and movements, Aegon’s hand roaming on your flesh as his shaft is deep inside you, and by the way you moan, your mouth wide open as your eyes are closed shut, the little drool falling from your lips… Aegon knows you are about to cum, feeling your tight cunt clenching around him, making him follow your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” your desperate noises are a delight for his ears, only serving to fuel his orgasm. 

“Yes, just like that” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he cums as well, groaning in delight as he comes inside you. He holds you still; as his hips slowly try to move deeper and deeper inside you, as his cum fill your womb.

You both were used to trying to make each other presentable, as he tries to comb and flatten your hair aftermath, and you pulled his breeches up for him, making sure his belt is not open and such. It was lovely, you realise, and it was something so familiar for both. 

It is your duty to entertain him as he is being equipped with the armour. The very same that the conqueror used at his time, and you smile fondly at him, trying to let his mind wander and not making him drown himself on wine before riding Sunfyre.

“Come” Aegon says as the Dragon keepers take Sunfyre out, pulling you closer to the dragon, and you chuckle a bit. Sunfyre wasn’t massive as you thought, but he was beautiful. 

The dim lights that entered the pit made his scales shine, as he was quick to come closer to Aegon and try to boop him with his nose and snuggle his head into his chest.

Aegon laughed, as he lets go of your hand to caress Sunfyre a bit more. It’s genuine. He’s happy, meeting his dragon, as Sunfyre plays some playful antics for his rider. You think it’s rather cute.

“He doesn’t bite” Aegon say, extending his hand and you slowly take it. You don’t doubt that he can, but you are sure he won’t.

“I’m pretty sure he can”

“He won’t bite you” He corrects himself as he rolls his eye, but you giggle. 

His scales are unsurprisingly warmer than you thought, as Aegon is still hugging him softly, smiling as he sees you caress his nose softly. Sunfyre seems to like your attention. A beautiful dragon -the most beautiful- was used to attention, you thought, but he craved yours, apart from Aegon’s. You smiled as you look at Aegon so comfortably hugging Sunfyre.

“He reminds me of you” you say softly “Craving my attention” your hand moves away but Sunfyre is quick to follow your touch, asking for more. “A needy thing”

Aegon smirks, looking at Sunfyre begging for more. “Always. When it comes to you. Sunfyre can feel it as well”

It was a soothing fact. Of course, being the King’s favourite had its privileges. Great dresses and position at court, for your kin as well. Your father knew well what he did, sending you to be one of Helaena’s ladies in waiting, as you later realized his motives. Yet still, Queen Helaena was so beloved, adored by everyone that it made you look bad. For stealing her husband from her. You didn’t hate her one bit, how could you? She was beloved to you as well, and she never had problems with you around. She was kind, and as mysterious as she was to everyone. You always felt bad until she reassured you the contrary, that she didn’t mind and she held no other love than sibling love to Aegon.

You smiled at Aegon. 

“Convenient” it were your words that had him smirk faintly, as he didn’t seem quite ready yet. 

You knew him well, to see the expression of his face, all his doubts, fears and expectations. He craves to be good. And to your eyes, he was more than perfect. But to your pity, that view didn’t extend to many people. 

As he gets ready, you take the helmet from the squire’s hands, and follow him from behind as he walks over to Sunfyre, who sings softly in the way that Dragons can. It’s melodic and beautiful, you soon realize. Aegon sings too, when he was drunk, or when he was in a good mood. When he was with you and….

Well, when he was with his kids. Now, you heard him sing with his only kid. You remember it, as Helaena was inconsolable; you played with Jaehaera and helped her to be the innocent little girl she was. Aegon, after finishing the business with both the golden cape and the Rat catchers, came to see her. So unlike him, yet he just sat Jaehaera on his lap and took Balerion on his fingers and played with her, singing some songs as they played without any words. 

You were a stranger to his family. You knew it. Yet you settled in, strangely. A friend to the mother, a weird aunt to the kids and a lover to the father. It isn’t like you don’t enjoy it. 

“You look adorable in that armour, though” you say smiling, taking a step back to watch him. He was extremely cute like that. The conqueror should have been taller, you imagine him as tall as Aegon’s grandsire. And Aegon wasn’t so tall, but you adored that

“I am supposed to be fearsome, not adorable” he says, moving to grab his cup of wine again.

You shrug, taking the cup from his hands and gulping the wine yourself. 

“Well, between you and Sunfyre, you’d make a beautiful pair. Fearsome… can be arranged for other occasion”

Aegon scoffs, taking the helmet with the conqueror’s crown on it, and he hesitates before pulling it on. 

“Wait, don’t be a brute” you say taking it from his hands. You were the only one to talk to the King like that, bossing him around as if nothing and he’ll follow your every whim as Kings follow the Gods.

You make him lean his head a bit as you accommodate his short and platinum hair, helping him to put it on the helmet on his head as you can hear Sunfyre sing on the back, waiting for Aegon. 

“I have a perfect view of your tits right now” he says, you can practically hear the smirk on his face, his head on the perfect angle to see your tits pressed tightly on your dress.

“I believe you do”

Once the helmet was on, you watched him with an endearing smile. It was so unlike him, to wear armour when he wasn’t a skilled fighter as Aemond was. But as the King, he repeated again and again that a Ruler should be fighting by his men's side, not cowering on a castle and waiting for the job to be done. 

“Be careful” you say to him, almost afraid. Aegon knows of the womanly worries, a Helaena had asked him the same: to be safe. 

“I’ll be. Sunfyre is there to protect me.” He says, trying to be nonchalant. 

“I know he’ll protect you, and you’ll protect him” 

Aegon nods, a bit lost in thought. “I want for them to trust me. I will fight by their side, and fight for my claim. I will learn how to be a proper ruler”

You nod, your hand searching the skin that his armour let out. You soothe him, and he allows himself to be vulnerable for you. “You’ll be."

"No one believes I do. My mother, my council, my grandsire... even Aemond..." It seems that the betraying of his brother is what hurts him the most. Even if Aemond was his political headache as of late, he was still his brother.

"You have me by your side. You have Helaena and Jaehaera-”

“Protect them” he interrupts you. “If anything, shall ever- If they come back…”

You understand his worry. Blood and Cheese. Even if both killers were dead, he was talking about the Blacks.

“I’ll do” you promise. “I’ll be with Jaehaera. And I’ll sing her the songs that you sang to her, so she doesn’t feel lonely”

“She has lost her twin. She will be forever lonely” he says, a bit gloomily.

You remain quiet for some moments. Aegon was different since that night, and you saw it on him every day. You held him as he cried, you comforted Helaena and Jaehaera. But Aegon just drank himself numb to forget the pain of his little son murdered.

“She has you” you remind him. “And I swear to you, by the old gods and the new, that I won’t let anything happen to Jaehaera. Anything. I promise”

That seems to calm him. “And I promise to comeback” he says walking closer to Sunfyre’s mount. “Even if it is with a few ugly scratches”

You roll your eyes amused, and look at his face. “You’ll be handsome even with some scratches.” you insist, as if the idea disgusts him, yet he is willing to get some scars to prove himself. “And I’ll take your hand as the Maester cures them. And I’ll kiss the little marks to make sure they heal”

Aegon smiles, looking at you as he leans to kiss your cheek. A tender gesture from him; Aegon wasn’t afraid to show displays of affection, at least not with you. You knew that Helaena wasn’t fond of them, but with you and his kids, he’ll make sure you are pampered in love. 

“Thanks for the words. They are well appreciated, and your love is all I needed. And this proper farewell too.” 

You smile, nodding as he climbs Sunfyre. It is not the first time you have seen the dragon; he once took you on flights, and the other time you had helped him to get Jaehaerys and Jaehaera on the mount, making sure they won’t fall, as they squirmed excitedly. 

“Pray for our win.” He says loudly, looking down at your figure “For the throne shall be ours, and for good” 

thank you for reading!! reblogs, likes and comments are not necessary but well appreciated♡

[chokiipng]

inactive for 2 years only to come back because i started watching one piece and i really like Law.

this idea has been bouncing around my head, let me know if i should finish it

A law draft (no title yet)

law x strawhat! reader

word count: 582

you're kinda like the second mechanic on the crew, Franky was the one to recruit you rather than Luffy though this doesn't really come up in the story. takes place during Saobody and you (surprise) go with the Heart Pirates. no (y/n) mentioned

For someone who was usually used to working in the hull of the ship that is basically the temperature of a refrigerator to keep the cola powering almost everything cool, the chill of a submarine was completely different.

Sailing the Grand Line had caused her to build something of a resistance to drastic changes in climate, but for some reason she could feel her goosebumps raise while the ship was submerging. Perhaps coupled with the fact that she could no longer rely on the warmth of the crew she had come to know and love made her feel even colder.

She had two years to get stronger, but after only a few hours she came to realize that she had some unspoken attachment issues her captain may have failed to realize. Granted, it was Luffy but just maybe a buddy system should have also been implied in that fake tattoo he showed the world. 

How did she even get inside the Polar Tang? She wasn’t even really sure, it was all a blur.

At one point she was hiding behind Franky, her self-proclaimed older brother and teacher, the next she was basically crawling away from a disproportionately huge bear(?) man. Despite the initial cuteness of the paws he attained due to his devil fruit, the awe quickly turned into fear as she watched him basically lightly pat her crewmate Zoro into the stratosphere. It would’ve been comical how fast he was flung into the air if he wasn’t close to death. 

What was a little humorous was her destination of his terrifying high five. As soon as she felt the jellybeans of his hand slightly graze her head she was screaming her head off, only to realize that she was only shooting off directly over Saobody. After a few minutes when the Marines had retreated into the city and Kizaru’s reign of holy light was over, she was released from…whatever was holding her in the air. 

You can imagine what a karate chopping polar bear’s reaction would be to an injured woman falling from the sky in front of him. Or not, it sounds a lot more far fetched than it really is. While she wasn’t as beaten as Zoro, fighting a few Pacifistas and a man made of light would get you past reasonably roughed up. The fall apparently made it worse, a little more than a few ribs were probably shattered and breathing was suddenly the hardest thing she had ever done. 

The last thing she saw before her vision went dark was a very lanky man with an equally lanky sword wearing an oddly fluffy hat. His eyebags stared at her first before his eyes caught up. She vaguely remembered him flipping someone off and having shrimp-like posture from the Auction House.

As he reached out to her to check her pulse she weakly pushed his hands away.

“Don’t touch me, Nerd,” were her last words.

His hand stopped its approach, as if the very nails on his fingers were insulted.

Law could have very well left her there, and honestly, he didn’t know why he didn’t. Here he is out of the goodness of his heart, helping out a (probably) dying woman, only to be pushed away and called a name. 

As the rest of his crew caught up to him and Bepo, he hovered around her limp (almost) corpse not making an effort to support her after being pushed away. He stiffly snapped his head to his first mate.

“I don’t look like a nerd, do I?”

“Sorry Captain.”

Law didn’t know if it was, “Sorry Captain, you do look like a nerd.” or, “Sorry that she said that about you,” but he supposed that it was better not to know. 

…

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 2

Part 1, Part 2, (Part 3??)

Part 1 was many months ago.. oopsie! Been doing a lot of reading recently and HOLY FUCK I LOVE THE TWISTED SERIES BY ANA HUANG. I JUST FINISHED IT, CAN'T WAIT TO READ THE KING OF SINS SERIES (btw I finished it a long time ago, this draft just never made it out). Do y'all like want some stuff implemented from there, here? I'M THINKING KING OF GREED? 👀

Also.. This was supposed to be my birthday special, but what happened was I became busy and never got around to making a definitive ending.. but don't worry, this isn't where the series ends.

My goodness the taglist on this one almost doubled, to anyone who doesn't want to be part of the tags, please tell me so that I can remove you because this will be the official list and it's still open for more people who wanna see this series.

Warning: Too lazy to proof read since I have so much to do, please tell me any autocorrected, misspelled words in the replies so I can change it.. 😭

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Simon sulked, his forehead resting on the soft mattress. His back and neck were aching yet he couldn't get the fear and worry out his head. You clear the fog in your head, your body felt sore despite the semi-comfortable bed you were laying on.

You groan softly, forcing yourself to sit-up, where the fuck was your daughter? Was she safe? In a panic you looked around the room, you let out a long, deep sigh as you saw her laying on the couch. Long blond hair splayed around messily on the pillow with a blanket that was barely hanging onto her body, she looked so peaceful.

You felt movement next to you, Simon woke up. He looks up to you, in a bit of a shock. He didn't say a word before holding you and guiding you back down to lay on the slightly adjusted bed, back against the pillow he fixed behind you, you wanted to fight it and protest but his strength was god-like on your still weak and not well rested body, your throat was dry to the point of pain and obvious discomfort.

Simon knows you better than you know yourself, resentment settled in your blood, felt more than the amount than when you missed him. He took the tightly sealed water bottle on the table next to your bed and pries it open, holding the bottle's opening to your lips.

You took a big gulp with his guide but you gently took the bottle off his hand into your own, your fingers brushing his a bit in the process, basically telling him you could do it yourself. A few more gulps down and your throat was eased, you handed back the water bottle to Simon.

He was fidgeting with his hands, his fingers rubbing and grazing the spot your fingers accidentally touched. You looked down with dismay as he takes the bottle from you and closes it.

Was he so disgusted and revolted by your touch that he's brushing off his fingers from it? You knew you didn't end it good terms but you had no idea he hated you that much. Maybe not.. are you overthinking? Probably.

It was silent, awkward, just hearing the IV drip and the beeps of the heart monitor. Simon wanted to say something so bad but what do you say to the love of your life who you've hurt severely and regret it because you still love her and want to be in her life again? Mouthful, he knows.

Simon had no right to you anymore, he couldn't even scold you and tell you to take better care of yourself anymore because that's what he used to do, it's way too familiar. He couldn't even touch you without him thinking it would make you uncomfortable.

You feel it, rather see it more but Simon wanted to die in the moment. Heavy breaths and clearly restless eyes, disheveled hair..

"How do you feel..?" He said, he looks elsewhere as he wanted to avoid the way your eyes chose to settle on him..

"I don't know..? I don't know how to process all this but there's no physical pain, just nausea.." you said, he got up to call a nurse and alert them that you're awake. He chose to step out while the doctor did the regular routine of checking everything.

"Momma?" You turn to your left at the couch where your daughter was sat up, rubbing her eyes.. she got off it and immediately ran to you, "I'm glad you're okay now.." she said which never failed to make you smile with how caring she tended to be..

"What happened bubs? Momma doesn't remember much except for fainting.." you asked the bundle of joy as you tried to piece back what had happened beforehand..

"I called dada when you fell, momma. I was so scared, I was shouting but you won't wake up.. dada took so long to get there but when he did, he asked me to go in the car while carried you inside to take you here.." she said, you took her off the ground and placed her at your side, embracing her little body.

"I'm sorry bubs, momma should've taken better care of herself.. if I had, I wouldn't have been so sick to the point of unconsciousness.." you felt so guilty, if only it had been under better circumstance then you would've been able to take care of yourself better and not put your child through what must've been a moment that should've set her in a panic.

"It's okay, momma. I'm a big girl now, I can take care of you like you take care of me.." her sweet little voice paused for a moment.

"Momma, what does unconscious mean?" She asked, you laughed, forgetting that she doesn't know the meaning of certain words yet..

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle @darkhorrorwhispers @cyphah @ash-tarte @linaangel @waves-against-a-cliff @fruitymoonbeams-blog @venussdovess @mactavishsgfandwife @thisisaphrodite @holyfeck @avalkyrieofparis @mymelx @ssc7514 @lilaclazer @fandomwarrior98 @spontaneousleo

[coquitokisses]

School fight | Dean Winchester

Word count: 655

Summary: You and Dean receive a call from your daughter’s school telling you that she got into a fight.. her first fight ever

A/n: Oakley is like 10 or 11 years old in this

A/n #2: sorry for not updating sooner, I’ve been going through some personal stuff (which is now better thank god), these last few weeks have been a little rough and my anxiety was through the roof lol I’m feeling okay tho so here is this fic that’s been in my drafts since April 2nd lol enjoy!

It was 12:45 pm when you and Dean arrived at your daughter’s school. You got a call from the principal telling you that Oakley got into a fight with another girl and that she also punched a boy. You couldn’t even believe it.

“She’s grounded.” You told Dean

“No, she’s not, not yet.” He said “We don’t even know what happened.”

“She shouldn’t be fighting with anyone and let alone at school!” You turned to look at him

“Calm down, let’s just wait for her to tell us.”

Calm down? Was he insane?

“Why are you so calm all of a sudden?” You crossed your arms

“It’s not like I didn’t get into a school fight when I was younger.” He says “Can’t exactly scold her for something I’ve done too.”

“She is so your daughter.” You said pinching the bridge of your nose “She’s grounded, end of story.”

“She’s not.”

Before you could say something back, you saw the principal come out of her office with Oakley by her side. Your daughter walked towards you and you noticed her cheekbone was a little red.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You asked her in a low voice, you were obviously mad, but Dean pulled you by the arm

“Stop.” He muttered

“I’m sorry.” Oakley said putting her hands inside her jacket pockets

“Are you hurt?” Dean asked

“Not much, she only punched me once.”

The principal called you both to her office so you went and there, she explained what happened and she also told you that Oakley, along with the other girl and the boy, were suspended for the rest of the week. Quoting the “we don’t tolerate violent behavior in our school” bullshit.

Once the conversation was done, the three of you walked out of the office and as you were walking towards the car, you turned to look at Oakley.

“You have one chance to explain to us what happened exactly and don’t you dare lie because I will know it.” You told her “So, explain.”

“She was being a bully.” She replied “And that other boy, it wasn’t his fight, he was just trying to be a hero or whatever.” She rolled her eyes “He pissed me off so I pushed him away.”

“With a punch straight in the face.” Dean added

She slowly nodded, kinda embarrassed “Um.. yeah.”

“You don’t punch people because they piss you off.” You say “Your dad pisses me off almost everyday, you don’t see me hitting him.”

“But that doesn’t count, you’re together.”

“She has punched me, just saying.” Dean spoke

“Shut up.” You look at him “That’s not the point, you can’t go punching people in school, Oakes.”

“I was just defending myself, isn’t that what you and dad always tell me?”

Touché. Yes, of course you and Dean have told her to defend herself and of course she knows how, after all, her parents were hunters since they were kids. She had to know how to defend/protect herself.

“Well if it was in self defense, then you did good.” Dean told her “But mom’s right too tho.”

She sighed “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven only because it’s your first fight” you say “I hope we don’t get to a second one.”

“If she keeps coming at me, no promises.”

Dean looked at you with a proud smile “She really is my daughter.”

You literally give him a death stare “You think?”

“Okay, how about we order some pizza, hm?” He wrapped one of his arms around Oakley

“Oh yeah sure, cuz we should reward her bad behavior.” You crossed your arms

“Hey it was self defense.” He said

“No pizza. There’s food at home.”

You heard Dean let out a sigh “Wow, mommy’s.. boring.” He looked down at Oakley

She shrugged “Only a little.. sometimes.”

And you could hear their laughs behind you as you got closer to the car.

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[temporarily-your-saint]

Dull Blades

benjicot blackwood & targaryen oc

UPDATED! First chunk of this just? Disappeared??? So, edited it to include the missing first part!

warnings: angst?? no warnings, really? fluff & drabble for now & soft ben ~

I got this idea for a drabble from S2 of GOT when Catelyn Stark finds her son in disarray after hearing of his father. After watching the last couple episodes of HOTD (and reading Fire and Blood recently), it’s hard not to think about all of the heartbreak between the two sides. This little drabble follows an OC I’m creating, Rhaenala, having a moment to really feel and let out her frustration and sadness. She wanders off to the woods on her own once settling into the Riverlands only to then be discovered by a certain Blackwood. Also, I know, I know, okay! I know our boy didn’t turn out to be our boy, BUT LET ME COPE, OKAY. : ‘ )

Also, part 1??? Thinking about making a second part to this…

—

Swing after swing the blade got duller and even more damaged. The log had had it. She couldn’t help it though. Everything was falling apart as she knew it. Her house, her family, everything. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

Her breath heaved as she swung her sword. In the distance, she could hear footsteps brushing along the grass and leather moving against each other as a voice called out.

She wiped her eyes, removing all evidence of frustrated tears.

“Hey!” She heard the voice as it got closer. It was a husky voice, perhaps a young lad.

“Hey! Princess!” Lilac eyes snapped up to meet the unknown voice. Her chest rose up and down quickly as she leaned over to rest. Who was this? This lanky, dark-haired man? Rhaelana was stunned by his boldness yet captivated.

Piercing familiar eyes met hers. “We need that sword, Princess. We need every sword necessary to end every life that defends the usurper. And…” he trailed off, his eyes scanning the blade in her hands. “You’re letting that one go to waste,” he finished his sentence softly as he slowly approached closer.

Blackwood. Benjicot Blackwood.

She remembered now. Head of House Blackwood. How could she be so dense?

The princess was sent by her mother to aid their allies with the battle against the Lannister army. Benjicot had sent ravens to the queen not long before asking for aid, so Rhaelana was drafted with Valax, her grown dragon with black onyx scales. The two were a formidable pair and more than capable of assisting their Riverland allies.

Her mouth parted with a bewildered cackle, laughing uncontrollably out loud. She couldn’t help it. This truly was a sightly scene for the young lord to find his princess, wasn’t it?

She sheathed the sword as she stood upright. “My apologies, my lord. I shall be more mindful,” her voice quivered on the last word, almost making her lose her composure. He could see that, of course. It wasn’t difficult to see that she was hurting, being torn apart in every direction. Most of all, she was grieving. Grieving for those that were already lost. Grieving for those that would welcome death soon enough. And what better way to let go than by hitting something? Oh, Benjicot knew that feeling all too well.

“Princess?” He continued to walk towards her, stepping slowly only inches apart now as they stood in front of each other.

“I should be going now. There’s people expecting me and—“ But as she began to step past him, an arm reached out, hand wrapping itself around her wrist.

“I wept,” he began to speak, answering the puzzled look on the princess’s face. “The first time I lay eyes on all the bodies. It was my first time on a battlefield and afterward I felt nothing but sorrow.” His words hung heavy in the air. “War is war, princess. And with family? I dare not imagine. But you have us. You have me,” he spoke softly while searching her eyes.

The young lord realized he still held her wrist and released her, snapping the princess harshly back into reality as he let her go.

“Benjicot Blackwood,” she spoke his name sternly. The young man straightened up, gaze never faltering hers.

“Thank you. I hope to see you at the meeting,” a hopeful gleam shined in her eyes as she spoke. Her body then glided past him, her shoulder brushing his arm as she passed.

The current state of her family was doomed. But her mother’s rightful place on the throne didn’t have to be. No, she was going to fight. She was going to fight with any and every weapon possible, dull or not.

A smile danced at the corner of the young lord’s lips as she passed by. His head bowed for a moment as he responded, “Of course, princess.”

Her figure walked away from him, towards the direction of camp. If there was one thing for certain, Ben knew they’d succeed with the princess at their aid. He recognized the look in her eyes all too well. The princess was proving to be all the more captivating than he could have hoped.