#[oh and hope we shall get along!!! ^^]

[tonycries]

SOOO ANXIOUS

Synopsis. When he’s a 10 but the pulI-out game is non-existent.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, breéding, breaking the condóm, overstím, Gojo’s powers going haywire, spítting, cúmplay, NÉEDY BOYS, marathon séx, chokíng, SLIGHT dàddy kínk (Nanami’s), jealousy (Sukuna), first times (Choso), limitless, exhíbitionísm (Sukuna), true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (wild omg)

A/N. Ty to that one anon for reminding me of Gojo and his limitless, I just had to. Hope y’all have a lovely day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - When life gives you…

Dammit, Toji knew he should’ve looked over your shopping list closer. He knew he should’ve spent just a little longer at the convenience store searching for that special brand the two of you always used - the only one that could fit his massive size - instead of rushing home like a madman to fuck you sloppily into your silken sheets.

He knew. 

But, well, feeling that thin excuse of rubber that was once coating his achy cock snap open - crashing his raw, leaky tip right against the bottom of your syrupy pussy, bruising - he certainly didn’t have any regrets either. 

“Whoops.” you hear Toji’s ragged, unapologetic huff against your ear. Lips quirking up into a smirk when you’re looking up at him in question with those cockdrunk eyes of yours. “Broke the condom again.” he explains. 

And as if to confirm, he’s sliding a calloused palm right down to the bulging area of your slit, sliding his eager fingers along the edge of that glossy piece of tattered rubber, “Now what do you suppose we do about that, ma?”

What?

And it’s all you can do to whirl your glassy gaze down at where he was already admiring. The sinful sight of your ravaged pussy winking lewdly up at you - puffy lips spread to bulge about his angry, red cock. Beading a sheen of your sweet sweet juices down his length, being swallowed up greedily. His raw length. 

“Toji–” you hiss, digging the balls of your heels at those dimples down the bottom of his spine, making him hiss in delight. “You bought the wrong ngh- brand of condoms? Again? This is the fifth time this week.”

And oh he found it so cute when you’re mad at him like this, pretending like your absolute slut of a cunt didn’t just get wetter at the feeling of his cock throbbing against your walls. Milking him so good that he can’t help but let his addicted hips move in lingering thrusts, jamming into your g-spot over and over like a little apology. 

He’s humming, “Accident- ouch!” 

The thick head of his cock pulses even deeper inside you when you give his muscled pecs a bratty smack. “Fine fine- I may have uh- rushed jus’ a bit.” As if to wipe away that tiny bit of guilt in his words, Toji’s hips are thrashing harder into you, merciless. “But heyyyy—” he leans down to drag his lips against your own in a messy kiss. “Y’know what they say, when ngh- l-life gives you the wrong pack of condoms, give her a creampie.”

You narrow your eyes, “Y-you’re such a-”

But within a millisecond, he’s dragging his swollen cock out of your snug cunt - barely, just enough to pull off those flimsy dredges of whatever was left of his condom after those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your poor pussy. 

“I’m jus’ being resourceful, woman” Toji chokes out when you bite down on his collarbone at the audacity. Before plowing on, words dripping with faux-apology, “Ahhh what to do, such a shame I forgot to get the r-right condoms. Whatever shall we do, ma?”

Before diving straight back into your heavenly entrance, purposefully taking his time to rub against every hidden nook and cranny of your walls. Toji throws his head back, defined abs bowing into you, “I know. How about this time insteada pulling out, you finally let me cum inside?”

And you knew Toji had such a mean cock, and fucked you even meaner. But fuck this was ridiculous. 

“Ngh- T-Toji!” you’re keening with every heavy smack of his balls against your stinging ass, being rocked further and further up the drenched mattress with the force of his sharp jabs. “You’re lucky you feel too ngh- good this way.”

“Heh, see? What did I tell ya? Now fuckin’ come-” Thick fingers wrap around your hips, pulling your back down, down, down - deep to spearhead his cock into your sweet spots. “-here-” Rendering you unable to escape, unable to do anything but be splayed out like such a slut while he’s molding your cunt to the shape of his length. Frenzied. Crazed. The complete opposite of the smugly gentle kisses he presses to your teary cheeks, “-and take my actual cock like a good girl, doll. Lemme make you a mama.”

The thought has you letting out such pitiful whimpers, thighs quivering. “Hah- m’gonna cum. M’so close, Toji-”

Gripping him so tight you could feel the outline of his prominent veins, the sensitive spots along his shaft. Toji’s brows furrow in concentration, letting out a sultry drawl of words, “Yeah? Is this pretty pussy gonna cum?” He reaches down to toy a long index around your neglected clit, sending your eyes rolling back with a moan. “Gonna be stuffed full of my seed like she’s supposed to?”

You can only get out a few bleary nods, and usually Toji would tease you a little more - have you begging and crying. But right now he’s so fucked. 

The feeling of your squeezing walls too tight, the crashing of his sensitive tip against your spongy g-spot too much that the only thing he can grit out is a low, “Then cum- cum f’me, doll.”

 He feels it before you realize you’re cumming, just running on wave upon wave of pure electricity running down your spine while Toji ruts into you so animalistically. Reeling back only for a few sloppy, solid half-thrusts - because you couldn’t bear to separate too much from your cunt - before spilling into you.

And - oh, he was only mad he didn’t do this sooner.

“Oh this is the stuff- fuuuuck this- is- what I needed- take it.” Thick rope upon rope of his hot cum, decorating your saturated walls. So much that it was gushing out of you with each pump of Toji’s hips fucking it deeper inside you - the thought of pulling out not even daring to cross his mind. Oozing. Messy. “Take it all. Make me a daddy again, why don’t ya.”

After all, he did pick the wrong brand for a reason, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Family matters!

The office can be loud - given, it’s hours past everyone’s shift and you and Nanami were the only ones cooped up in his office working overtime right now. 

But still, the office can be loud - which is why Nanami Kento isn’t exactly sure he hears you correctly the first time. Not until you keep looking at him with that sultry, determined graze, spit-glossed lips moving to repeat, “I want a baby, Ken.”

It only takes three seconds for him to lock the door and shove you against the cool mahogany of his desk, bunching up that cute pencil skirt of yours at the waist. Which, Nanami thinks, unbuckling his expensive pants to swipe his angry tip between your slobbering slit, is three seconds too late in his opinion.

“You really wan’ me to disrespect your cute cunt this way, my pretty lil’ wife?” he’s purring into your ear, just a soft reassurance before he absolutely fucking ruins you. “Because m’not going hah- easy on you this time.”

And maybe you’re a genius, maybe you’re an idiot who doesn’t know what’s good for her - because you flash him a grin, “So are ya gonna fuck me or not?”

Soon enough, that grin was turning into your jaw sagging open lewdly, drool trickling down the corner of your lips with every bullying squeeze of Nanami’s massive cock inside you. Stretching out every inch of your gummy walls around his swollen girth. 

“Oh God—” you’re moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each harsh ram. Wiggling hips mindlessly torn between running away and fucking yourself back onto your husband’s bludgeoning cock for more. 

He’s shutting you up with a gentle suck on your candied lips, humming into the kiss, “Jus’ ‘Ken’ works fine, my love.”

And it takes you a few seconds to register his remark - a few, dizzying seconds of being spearheaded by Nanami’s fat tip. Roaming, heavy balls smacking the fat of your ass when he angles his hips just right to ruthlessly kiss against that one sweet spot he knows you love so much. Swirling his furious tip around to find-

“Oh fuck!”

There.

Merciless. Nanami Kento is absolutely merciless. 

And all you can do is scramble your jittery fingers towards his desk, his forgotten work documents, him - your body is moving before your heated mind when you reach behind to drag Nanami in closer by his yellow, speckled tie. 

All the way until his plump lips were mere millimeters away from yours, “I actually think ‘daddy’ would work better, no?”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

He was completely and utterly fucked. 

It takes the both of you by surprise when a large hand comes up to your neck, thick fingers squeezing hard around your pretty throat. The cold metal of Nanami’s wedding ring burning into your skin when he shuts up those filthy words of yours. 

“Ken-”

“Shut up. Sh-shut up, darling I’m- fuck I’m-” is all Nanami’s able to stutter out before his hips grow sloppy. And you could feel the way his twitching cock massaged at your plushy walls, the wet sounds of skin-and-skin becoming more and more languid before-

Nanami doesn’t think he’s ever cum this embarrassingly fast in his life. Never did it only take him a few more mean, calculated thrusts into your heavenly cunt until he’s spurting thick wisps of his seed. Coating your poor pussy in a sheen of his cum - of him. 

He whimpers, bending his long legs at the knees to grind up deeper into your, feeling the warm slosh of his own seed inside. 

“Fuck Ken–” you wheeze, throat raw from the unforgiving hand still around it. Vision spotty and you feel like floating - or maybe that’s just the way Nanami had you lifting off the ground with each relentless ram. “Gonna be the ngh- fuckin’ death of me.”

“Hah, you’re gonna be the hngh- death of me.” he groans, free hand coming up to slide his glasses further up his nose. Shit, if Nanami angled his head just right he could see that sinful, sinful trail of cum down your legs. Glistening under the dim office lighting, forming a little pool right at that crevice between your thigh. “Yeah oh fuck- m’not getting out of this alive. Not with you, darling.”

And oh you should’ve known. Should’ve had an inkling at the way Nanami was still achingly rock-hard between your legs. At the way he innocently grazes a thumb across your sloppy hole, pooling the heady mix of cum and slick on the pads of his fingers - before shoving them right back in. Skirting around that depraved shaft of his to squeeze whatever dredges of seed he could get his hands on back inside you.

It was making such a mess - with each bullying pump of Nanami’s fingers at your dripping cunt, cum was gushing out of your wrecked hole. Slow, and torturous. 

Exactly the way he was moving back inside of you now, reeling his toned hips back to smash right into your sweet spots. Dragging that orgasm out of you - out of him, “Gotta make sure it takes, right?”

Suddenly, you have the feeling that it’s going to be a long, long night working overtime.

♡ GETO SUGURU - The egoist

“C’mon, gorgeous.” that low, satiny purr has your cunt quivering traitorously. “You’re really gonna hold out on me like this?”

It takes every bit of willpower in you to tear your eyes from the absolutely sinful sight below you - because Geto Suguru was so unfairly pretty - even with his wrists tied helplessly below you to the bedposts. So delicately flushed a cute pink from his high cheekbones, right down to his thick, sobbing tip. Looking up at you through half-lidded, glassy eyes, peeking from under his long hair. 

Hair you thread through to gather in a harsh grip, “Mhm, Sugu, if you’re gonna be so cocky when m’letting you cum inside me then I jus’ hafta- ngh!”

Your foolish little threat is dying in your chest when your beloved boyfriend is wrenching his hips up. Having you teetering precariously, clinging onto his sculpted abs when he uses them to fuck his cock up into you slobbering cunt. 

“Hah!” his dark eyes widen in delight at the sight of how readily your slutty cunt was making way for him. Puffy folds being split apart to swallow every fucking inch he gives. “Just look at what a filthy lil’ cunt you have, my girl. So needy despite all your talk.”

“Th-that’s cheating.” you tug on his soft silky restraints. Eyeing the way they were firmly digging into his milky skin. “Maybe I ah- won’t- let you-”

Another ragged jut of his hips, the thick curve of Geto’s swollen cock spearing into you, pulsing against your sensitive spots until you couldn’t think. He’s gasping, “No!” Letting out such a pained grunt when your spongy walls cling onto him like a second skin. “No no no no- jus’ fuck m’gonna have you begging for my cum.”

And if Geto had his hands untied you just knew he’d be gifting your sobbing cunt a punishing smack! So that’s exactly what you do - letting out such a teasing whine of his name when you slap the pads of your fingers down across your sopping slit. Stopping right below your clit - exactly the way he does.

“Still real cocky, aren’t you?” you purr, so sultry and low, sending a fresh wave of precum painting at your bruised cervix. 

“Fuuuck- you little minx. This won’t- ngh-” he hisses. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret holdin’ out on me.”

There it was again - that little accusation. The same little mantra that’d been falling from Geto’s glossed-over lips ever since you tied his wrists together and straddled him after a few too many goading comments on how you won’t be able to “handle him” if he came inside.

Scoffing, “Yeah yeah that’s what a sore loser-”

Fuck, it seems he’s well and fully intent to not have you run your pretty mouth. 

Pushing past your feeble little ring of resistance to draw at your honeyed walls. Running his angry tip along each and every sweet spot he’d so meticulously mapped out before.

“I warned you, gorgeous.” His breaths are wrenching out so strained, low groans leaving him with how your plushy walls were trying to suck out something delicious. “Warned you it was- ngh was gonna be too much. And now look at you.” He’s chuckling, so utterly unapologetic. “Fucked dumb and taking my cock like the slut you are. How’d you feel about that, huh?”

It’s so embarrassing. 

Embarrassing how good you were feeling, stars behind your eyes every time Geto is smashing deep into your core. Embarrassing how you can barely even hold yourself up at this point, instead collapsing right into the valley between Geto’s pecs, lips drooling with need. 

Embarrassing how you can’t even answer his question.

And this is what makes him smile - full and content. Craning his head down to kiss softly at your slack lips, “That’s what I thought. Now beg for it, beg for my cum.”

“Wh-what?” you snap your eyes open. Moaning lowly at the drag and pull of his fat shaft, stretching out your narrow channel with each ram of his hips. Angling your boneless body just right for those tufts of black at his toned base to rub against your clit so obscenely. 

“You hear me. Or you can’t hear as well as- ngh- speak now, huh? Beg for it.”

“No.”

Geto falters his hips slowly at this, “Beg for it.”

“No.”

Of course, this only makes him stop completely. Rolling his eyes in such a languid way at your clear disappointment, “Then fuck me yourself if you wanna be so mouthy.”

The result is - for Geto - the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen. With you whining, tears springing to your eyes as you try to ride him as best you could. Yearning, craving for those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your sweet spots. Ass jiggling when it smacks against his pelvis lazily, hips stuttering up and down his veiny cock, weeping your needy juices as you sob, “No- please I take t- ngh- back. I want your cum, Sugu. Please?”

“That’s more like it.”

And no sooner are the words out of your lips before Geto’s thrusting up into you haphazardly. Brows furrowed, abs screaming with the strain of just how hard he was pounding you. Again. And again - more to teach you a lesson, more to drive the two of you insane. Again and again and-

It only takes a few more of those lingering, ruthless kisses of Geto’s leaky tip against your g-spot for the two of you to be cumming. 

Your gummy walls convulsing, sucking up every wet glob of cum shot against them, against your womb. Geto’s full, heavy balls filling you up in mere seconds with how much he was painting your poor cunt white. Dripping down the side of your pussy lips, creating such a mess all over his base that he just can’t help but-

RIP!

Your back is hitting the mattress before you know it, Geto’s large figure looming over you- how? When did he-

“Ya really thought those would stop me from-” he takes the time to spread open your trembling legs, spying down at the mess of cum leaking out of your gaping hole now. Thick, gushing dredges of him - all him. He’s shuffling down, hot breath hitting your abused cunt, “-having my favorite meal?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Made for this.

Slam!

You’re both jolting - you at the deafening sound of your best friend’s hand slamming down on the headboard, making it creak at the sheer power. Him at those sultry little words that had just left your glossy lips, sending all the blood in his body right down to where he was buried between your shaky legs. 

Before you can react, Choso’s looming his face closer - eyes wide, jaw sagging open, voice just a whisper when he asks, “What did you say?”

And through it all, it’s a wonder you’re managing to catch your breath. Because Choso’s unforgiving cadence was barely letting up, pushing in long, solid strides of his hips to drag his fat cock against the plush of your gummy walls. “I-I said since it’s your first time n’ I wanna make this special, you should-” Looking him right in his pussydrunk eyes when you say, “-cum in me, Cho.”

Just like before, that honeyed request pulls out such a visceral reaction from him. His dewy eyes scrunch shut, thick tip kissing so deep inside your womb when he twitches animalistically. Sliding across to mark you from the inside out. 

And somewhere in your fucked-out mind, you register the snap! of wood breaking above you, Choso’s biceps flexing with movement. “Fuuuck, baby, you can’t hah- s-spring that on me like that.”

It was true - a few too many bad sex scenes on movie night, and a few too little lingering touches left you wanting more. Wanting to steal away your cute best friend’s virginity once and for all, and then some.

“Why not?” you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him. Making his poor jaw drop even further, hips stuttering forwards sloppily. “No no no no, Cho. You’re my best friend and you deserve the best.” you’re tutting, tightening your legs around his sculpted waist. Preventing any escape - as if he could ever want to run away from this heaven. “I need you to cum in me.”

It happens too fast for you to even register - before you know it, two large hands of Choso’s are hoisting your limp legs up onto his toned shoulder. Upper half bending down, down, down until he had you folded in half in such a mean mating press. 

“F-fuck don’t-” he gasps out, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the lewd change in angle. The curving divot of his head brushing up against that hot g-spot of yours, raw with so many hits. Greedy eyes locked on the way your puffy cunt was swallowing him whole. “-don’t say that! Was enough havin’ you offer your pretty lil’ cunt f’me to fuck.”

Smirking, “Cum in me, Cho. Please?”

And fuck Choso was sure he was going to pass out this very second. Collapse on top of you like an utterly fucked ragdoll. But, no - and he doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing - instead, his heavy balls are squeezing sloppily, making such a mess of you inside when he streams out thick spurts of cum.

Eyes ringing, vision spotty when he’s pouring such heavy amounts to paint your cunt white. It’s all he can do to breathe, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck m’cumming m’sorry m’cumming m’cumming- ah- ngh-”

“F-fuck yeah give it t’me.” you murmur heatedly, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth with each pump inside reaching your lungs. Sending dredges of seed slobbering down Choso’s throbbing length, forming a pool at your inner thighs. “Give it all to me, you’re doing so good for your first time, baby.” 

Your honeyed praises stick to him like a veil of sin, having him shudder out little whines of your name. “No m’not!”

“Hm? What’re you fuuuck right there- what are you talking about? Yes, you are.” you thread your fingers through his long, damp locks. Pushing away the dark strands sticking to his forehead to connect it with yours, “Doing so good f’me.”

Choso’s breaths come out in feverish puffs, and despite having velvety strings of his cum sloshing inside your walls right now, he was still hard. Still painfully hard with each overstimulated shove into your dripping cunt. 

“Dreamt of this for so long.” he drawls, ragged. A soft thumb coming down to draw on your clit, “Been wanting you for so long n’ you have no idea. M’ jus- fuck your pussy is just too perfect, my girl.” That little confession has you clenching around him so tight. Forcing Choso to hike up a knee to stretch your thighs so far apart it burned, letting him accelerate his hips. “Too much that I can’t keep it- hah- together. S’like she’s made f’me. Jus’ wanna fill you up until you can’t take it- ngh-” 

A particularly harsh kiss to your sweet spot has Choso’s seed oozing out of your puckered hole even more. So slutty in the way that you were still clamping down to milk the soul out of him all through it. 

His pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. Movements languid, hypnotized when the erratic, slender fingers on your clit move down. Swirling at the treacled ring of cum around his hilt, where your pussy lips were mashing against his toned pelvis. 

You have half the mind to wonder if Choso even realized what he was doing - whether he was even breathing - as he raises those fingers to your mouth. Immediately parting your kiss-bitten lips to suck his glossy fingers clean.

The eager, lewd squelches from above and below have him pushing your body up to thrust even harder - hissing, “Oh you really ngh- made f’me.”

“Well then…” you start, muffled. And your tone already has Choso gulping. Waiting on your every word. “Why don’t you cum inside me again to make up for it and the broken headboard?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HEIR

Now, it’s not often that Ryomen Sukuna feels threatened. Him? The infamous king of curses? Don’t make him laugh, everyone knows that you’re his pretty lil’ slut, his favorite human.

But it’s times like this, with your pretty self sat where you belong - right on his fat, achy cocks, your limp legs dangling off his luxurious throne, crying and begging for him to just move - he’s reminded that maybe not everyone knows. 

“Pleeease, Kuna.” you’re dragging out of your throat, voice wrecked with need. “Jus’ need to- to cum!” And he thinks it’s so adorable how you’re trying to fuck your hips up and down on his lengths, matching tips so thick that they rut against your sweet spots without even trying. 

It’s useless, with the tight, black-nailed grip he has on your stuttering hips. Making such a mess slobbering down his cocks.

“Hmmm, I dunno if you deserve it, brat.” his smug facade is laced with something else - something dangerous now. “After all…” he’s nosing down your racing pulse, breathing in as if he could smell the lust in your blood. “-you looked real cozy with that minister from earlier.”

You’re gasping - whether from his words, or from the way his curved shafts twitch so furiously inside you, you’re not sure. 

“Wh-what?”

He scoffs, “You know what m’talkin’ about.”

And you did - unfortunately. Hazy mind showing off shreds of memories from that meeting you accompanied Sukuna to earlier today. The one where, despite being dangling off his arms the entire time, one unsavory new minister managed to throw a few crass remarks your way. Something about how good you must be and how he’d give you an-

“Heir.” It’s all that Sukuna is spitting out before thrusting up into you. Deep, slow. Like he knew you were thinking about that little altercation today and wanted to fuck out every thought of it out of your pretty lil’ mind. “That little scum had the audacity to talk to my woman about how he’d have an heir by now. As if I’m not fucking you right.”

Two thick fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, spitting into your open mouth, “I’d have killed him if you didn’t fuckin’ stop me, human.”

“B-because-” you’re crying out, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each smash of his fat tip against the bullseye of your g-spot, the other marking up your cervix. “I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of-”

“So what if I caused a scene?” Sukuna’s sharp canines are nipping down on your wobbly lower lip. The curve of his dicks stretching you so thin. Taut. Until your clingy walls molded to his shape. “Do you deny me the right to defend my woman? My future heir?”

The sopping wet sounds of your poor hole being ravaged are almost too loud for you to hear his last words. Almost.

You gasp, face lolling up from where they were pressed up against his sculpted pecs. “Wait- future heir?”

And oh how Sukuna loved the sound of that on your lips. A raw groan curling up from his throat, biting his lip while he fucks you so thorough. So purposeful. 

At this point the only thing you’re managing to get out are pitchy whines, being bounced up and down like some sextoy on the king’s cocks. His massive girths tattooing your walls with each and every twin vein and ridge.

“Mhm, ya like that?” Sukuna grins, slacking down the throne to jut his muscled abdomen upwards. “Wan’ me to breed this cute cunt with my heir?”

The only response he’s getting are your nails raking red, angry marks down his tan skin, which clearly wasn’t enough for him.

“I asked you a question, brat.” This earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your ass, his nasty cadence only speeding up. You’re barely even lucid anymore, just being slid along his towering lengths. “Use your words n’ fuckin’ tell- me-”

“Hngh!” you’re screaming out at a particularly harsh jab against your g-spot. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks when you mewl, “Yes! Yes I wan’ it so bad, ngh- for you to fill me up. Breed me until- ngh until everyone knows.”

The honeyed grin you’re given is something you know doesn’t bode well, Suknua’s eyes darting somewhere behind you. But that’s the last thing on your mind while he spits a thick glob of saliva on your cunt. Goading, “Well if you’re that desperate, woman.”

And it’s dizzying - if you thought Sukuna was fucking you thoughtless before then you weren’t ready for right now. 

“Fuck.” he grits out. “Yes that bastard got one thing right- I just wanna- oh-” And then he’s spitting, another steady stream of saliva right on your struggling cunt. “Wanna breed this pussy- until they know m’the one that fucks you right.” He’s rubbing a palm along your stomach, drawing a line where he could feel the bulge of his swollen cocks. “Have you round and glowing with my heir.” Moving up, up, up to cradle your bouncing tits into his greedy mouth. “Have these hah- filled with milk. And have you filled with me. They’ll all see you and see me. I did this.” 

Sukuna’s red, glowing eyes are the last thing you see before everything flashes white. And then you’re cumming - barely having the capacity to give a fair warning other than, “Oh- f-fuck Kuna m’gonna.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he is as well. The squelches from your delicious cunt only increasing twofold when he’s gifting you with thick spurts of his seed. Too much. Both fat heads throbbing in staccato with your high, so furiously before they’re erupting in a gush of pure white. Too much. 

“Ahhh yes, s’where you belong.” Sukuna breathes, voice a few octaves higher with how much he was still cumming. Hips thrusting to force such filthy movements to pump his potent seed deeper and deeper - sure enough to mark you from the inside out. “Fucked dumb on m’cocks and hah- ready to make me an heir. One to kill off all the trash I can’t.” Letting it slobber down onto his abs, pooling at the muscles. Hot loads overspilling from your tight pussy now. Shit, it’s a sight so sinful that Sukuna has to tear his eyes away to look at that slightly ajar door, brows quirking at the aghast face outside he meets. “Won’t you agree, minister?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “Do you hate me?”

“Huh- what?” you’re blinking, unsure if you even heard that correctly. Eyes darting from Gojo’s pouty pink lips to the way he was still bludgeoning his aching cock inside you, “Of course I don’t, Toru? What’s with the- hah-”

Apparently, your answer wasn’t good enough for the great Gojo Satoru, and it’s not long into your bumbling, half-drunk sentence before he’s smashing his fat tip purposefully against that honeyed g-spot he loved so much. Dragging out such cute moans from your throat while he babbles, “Then why are you- hah telling me to pull out?”

It takes everything in you to wrench your eyes open to meet his dead-serious expression, “What?”

Gojo scoffs at how fucking long it was taking your cockdrunk mind to comprehend him. Pushing your knee back further to spread your sopping cunt, squeezing his thick girth inside like some cocksleeve. “Why-” he cuts himself off with a bullying little thrust. “-are you telling- me to fuckin’ pull out.” And he sounds so genuinely devastated, voice a pitch higher than normal, breaking ever-so-slightly at the end. “Do you hate me now, sweetheart?”

“You fuckin’-” you’re spitting. Nails digging into the sides of Gojo’s pale neck when you’re pulling him closer, hissing into his panting mouth, “-idiot. I told you to- ngh- to pull out because I don’t trust that limitless of yours to work.”

“But, my girl—” he whines, burying his face to lick up the crook of your neck. “Don’ wanna leave to ah- get condoms right now. M’the strongest, when has it not worked?”

And it’s like the sole reminder of this fact is enough to spur your boyfriend on even more, because with a ragged growl he’s falling back onto his thighs - taking your boneless body right along with him. Greedy pussy sat so pretty and needy around his cock, sinking deeper and deeper down every long inch.

You could barely even feel it - limitless. Just a slight, steady pulse of jujutsu, atoms standing at attention all around your tangled bodies.  

“Oh!” you keen at the feeling of Gojo’s heft veins making their mark all along your gummy walls. Gravity sliding you down his swollen cock until your puffy folds were meeting his sharp pelvis in a messy kiss. “Y-you’re really not fuuuck- backing down, huh?”

As if to prove your point, a large palm comes up around your back, wrenching your two hands behind to pin them behind your back. Leaving you completely bare and helpless under his obscene will. 

“Nope.” Gojo hums, popping the “p”. Flashing you a fucked-out grin - and oh he looks so pretty, so wrecked with his snowy locks disheveled, cheeks a blushing pink, lips spit-glossed and worried. “How could I be when my girl- hngh feels like this?”

“S’not gonna-”

“It is-” he’s interrupting in a syrupy tone, so drunk off the way you were complaining about his limitless but taking every thrust he gives so well. “S’gonna work- it will work hngh- trust me, sweetheart.” Thumbing apart your bulging swollen folds even further to toy over your pulsing clit, “Shit- love it when you squeeze me like that. Hah- and you expected me to leave this n’ go get condoms fuckin’ right.” With every hungry thrust he’s gifting your poor pussy, Gojo’s mouth is running a mile a minute against your racing pulse. Heavy tongue lolling, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every passing millisecond you’re sucking the ever-loving soul out of him. “As if I’d wanna hah- leave this. It’ll work-”

Somewhere in-between the lingering ruts, a hand of yours runs through Gojo’s damp tresses, tugging on it to make him look. Difficult, somehow. 

“Toru…” you grip harder on his soft strands, dragging him away from his little hiding spot. Relenting, he’s slowly raising his eyes to look at you and- “Why are you-”

Oh. Shit.

If you thought Gojo was ruined before then you weren’t ready for this - his half-lidded eyes glowing, crackling with power, babbling lips sagging open in ecstacy. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought that the lights in your bedroom flickered dangerously just a bit. He gasps, eyes boring into yours, “What- what was I sayin’ again?”

Oh he was so fucked - and you were, too. 

Because your mouth is moving before your mind, feeling so dirty when you muse, “Told me how you were gonna- ngh- drop limitless n’ fill me up, Toru–”

Your jaw is prying open with his mean little tempo. Fat, greedy cock messing up your insides with how haphazardly he was spearing inside in weighty, animalistic thrusts. Leaving just enough time for that divot on his angry tip to peck at your sweet spots, before shoving his entire length back in and out again. Over and over and-

It only takes a mere split-second of Gojo’s limitless faltering, of him being enveloped in all your dripping heaven, before he’s cumming. And cumming so hard, gushing out so much in thick, hot streams of his heady seed.

It’s filling you up from the inside, stretching your walls taut. Sloppy. Sinful. And you can do nothing but reach your high as well, flashes of white-hot pleasure behind your eyes. Or maybe that was Gojo.

His creamy white cum kissing you inside, drooling out of your ravaged hole with every mindless push of his hips. Forcing it deeper and deeper and oh fuck, he could do this forever. Fuck condoms. Fuck limitless. He tells you that - rattles it off into your open mouth a little over fifteen times watching the coating of his cum pool a glossy sheen down your legs. Sloshing down in thick, lewd globs.

“Told you so.” you scoff. 

“That- that was just the practice round! Best out of three?”

“...”

A/N. Picked the title out for no purpose other than self-indulgence I’m ngl.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[bluetimeombre]

・❥ 'Are you Hugh down under?' p2

You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.

[Here's p2, thank you for loving the last one and being as obsessed as I am. I hope i got everyone on the tag list and the second part to Ladypool and Wolverine is on its way. Again this isn't proof read, this is just vibes. There's some sexual innuendos and sexist comments that Hugh is at the rescue for. Also, i'm British so half of these interviews just end up being British icons]

part one

You and Hugh being in love for twenty-five minutes (part two)

2017, Y/N heart monitor

You were doing an interview for your latest movie with Nick Grimshaw on BBC radio one. It was a new thing he'd come up with, trying it with you for the first time as you were hooked up to a heart rate monitor.

'Is it working?' asked Nick. 'Is she alive?'

You help him put the stickers onto you. 'It's like, there's nothing there,' you joke with them.

'She's a robot.'

The beeping began and it found your heart beating at a steady pace, a good start.

'So, I'm going to show you a series of images and we're just gonna see how you react to these images, ok?' he asked.

You grin, nerves kicking in. 'Ok.' It could have been anything. And boy were you right.

Some of them were fine, easy, normal. A picture of a co-star the heart rate was fine, a pair of shoes that you wore a lot, a picture of cash and an ex that had it risen but not alarmingly.

'And finally,' Nick picked up an image. 'Hugh Jackman! How does he make you feel?'

Your cheeks go red and you laugh. 'I hate you all so much, um, Hugh Jackman?' you were too busy laughing. Once you had made a joke about Wolverine and how good looking he was, now it was following you everywhere.

'Heartbeats rising!' Nick cheered as you covered your face. 'Heartbeats the highest it's ever been, eighty-five, up to ninety! One hundred!' he claps.

You bang your head on the table, finally finding control over yourself. 'I can't believe you all.'

Nick slid the picture over to you. 'Here, you can take that one home with you.'

'Thanks. He looks great there, doesn't he?' you say. 'A classic, Hugh Jackman picture.'

'Yeah, you like it?' he teased.

You grinned. 'That's going on my wall when I get home.'

The Graham Norton show

You and Hugh had walked out, waving at the adorning crowd that cheered as you took the sofa.

‘Hello! Hello!’ Graham called.

The two of you looked the pair as you smiled and sat next to each other in spite of the space on the sofa.

‘Sofa to ourselves, i like that,’ you say, lying back.

‘The other guests were too intimidated,’ said Graham. ‘Now, was the walk out ok for you guys, Hugh, are you happy?’ He asked.

Hugh frowned. The crowd laughed. ‘It was very good, thank you.’

‘Because, is it true- and Y/N correct me if I’m wrong, you had a specific song you walked out onto set with?’ He asked.

Immediately knowing what he was talking about, you laugh while Hugh hangs his head and sighs.

You sat straight and took to explaining while patting his back. ‘You see, it’s very tough for Hugh to get into character as Wolverine sometimes. So the only way was to get him out the trailer was to play a specific song.’

‘Ok, ok so shall we do it again, this time with the song?’ Graham proposed. He ushered you both backstage, Hugh squeezing your shoulders as you went.

‘Whatta a man’ by salt and pepper started playing and you led the way out for Hugh who danced his way out. The crowd clapped along as Hugh shows his moves and ended with dipping.

‘Oh wonderful!’ Graham called as the two of you took your seats again.

For the rest of the interview thing went very smoothly.

‘Now is is true that the first time you met, Hugh, you didn’t actually meet Y/N?’

Hugh again huffed and shook his head. ‘This show is all to embarrass me, isn’t it?’

‘Makes a change honestly,’ you say.

Hugh looked back to you and started to tell the story. Through out, his body had moved toward you, his entire presence facing you despite talking out to everyone. ‘When I first walked on set, you know, at the ready, I was very excited to be there and even more excited to meet this wonderful lady here. And I got suited up, you know, went to hair and makeup and one of our first shots was quite a challenging one, a big stunt.’

‘Big,’ you agreed, taking a sip of your drink. You knew where the story was going.

‘Yea, so anyway, I walk over to Y/N whose already in her suit. Looks great by the way. Anyway so I start introducing myself and saying hello and how thankful I am for being here, a real heart to heart you know-‘ he says, ‘and then Y/N walked in and i realized I’d been speaking to her stunt double the whole time- whole time!’

The crowd laugh as do you, almost choking on your drink.

Wolverine and Ladypool press:

You and Hugh sat with each other all day doing press. You kept it light with jokes between the two of you, working through the people and questions.

One particular interviewer just had to get his answers though. ‘So your suit,’ he starts, looking to you. ‘It’s very tight and eventuated several parts of you, did you find that hard to manoeuvre around?’

Hugh answered before you had the chance to open your mouth. ‘I found it very easy to move around in. You know, first x-men movie, not so much but these suits, are perfect.’

The guy chuckled, it was clearly forced but you thanked Hugh for taking the question, patting his knee. ‘Can you wear like panties with them or thongs, cause they are skin tight.’

‘I’ll take this one!’ Said Hugh again. ‘I go commando, but that’s just because I like it.’

‘He does, he does like it,’ you nod, grinning. ‘He’s going commando right now actually.’

The guy tried one more time to ask you a question about the suit. At this rate, your entire body turned to face Hugh. ‘Do you feel sexy in the suit?’ He asked you.

‘Very,’ said Hugh.

After that, Hugh made several vulgar comments when you were alone, but luckily for you, Hugh was your own superhero.

Buzzfeed quiz

'Hello!' you greet the camera, holding your phone to your chest. 'I'm something-something Jackman.'

'And i'm the greatest actress of all time,' said Hugh.

You deflated, looking at him. 'Oh, well now I just look like a dick.'

'No, it's ok,' he shrugged. 'One of us has to look like a dick.'

The two of you were doing quizzes for Buzzfeed, answering if you're more Ladypool or Wolverine. Although you were sat next to each other, you'd both craned your bodies back so the other couldn't see what you were putting in, like it was a test.

'We're really competitive with each other,' Hugh told the crew.

'Yeah, not with anybody else, but I have to- I just have to prove i'm better than Hugh Jackman at something,' you said.

'Who are you hoping to get?' asked the lady behind the camera.

'Oh, Ladypool, obviously,' you said.

Hugh nodded along, watching you. (Did this man ever not look at you?) 'I wouldn't be angry about getting Ladypool either.'

You tut. 'So quick to betray yourself.'

If you could have a super power, what would you chose?

You read through the options. 'I think telekinesis,' you said. 'Mainly just because I'm lazy and it would be so easy to pick up the tv remote or close the curtains. Very practical.'

'Yeah, that's a good one,' Hugh hummed about it for longer. 'Maybe healing ability.'

You roll your eyes, throwing your head back. 'That's such a Wolverine answer!'

'I know, but I'm getting old, be nice for things to not hurt a lot,' he said.

Who's your favourite MCU character?

Hugh scanned the options. 'I er, don't see Wolverine on here?' he looked around at the crew behind the camera's shaking his head.

'Can't get the staff these days- oh my god Spider-Man's on here!' you cheered, distracted.

'She loves Spider-Man,' Hugh told the camera.

'I do. I really do,' you agreed. 'If it wasn't gonna be Wolvie, it was gonna be Spidey,' you look into the camera, holding your phone to your ear, mimicking for Andrew Garfield to call you.

Hugh dragged his finger of his neck in a cutting off motion if he ever did.

Who do you pick to be your road-trip buddy?

'You have to pick the Wolverine, c'mon,' Hugh nudged you.

You looked through the options which all considered x-men. You hesitated, humming. 'I dunno.'

'We had great fun in the car!'

A red blush took over your cheeks as you re-called the multiple, multiple takes you and Hugh had to do. Hugh saw this and draped his arm over the back of your chair.

'Yeah, but that was- that was different, this is a roadtrip not a porn video in a car,' you joked. 'And Wolverine's like so serious, Rogue, she's so fun.'

'Woah, woah,' Hugh paused everything. 'Rogue is great, don't get me wrong. But who's better!' he pointed at himself. 'Wolverine's not grumpy with you, he loves you!'

You look over at him, grinning sweetly. 'No, you love me and it's judging your character.' For five minutes, the two of you argued over who you'd rather have as a road-trip buddy. Most of it got sped up during the video. 'Ok, fine, I pick Wolverine. Who are you picking?'

'Charles,' said Hugh even though Ladypool was on the list.

You faced the camera, mouth hung open as Hugh laughed loudly and gave you a side hug, assuring you it was a joke but he still clicked on Charles!

Which musical number would you want to perform with your 'Wolverine and Ladypool' cast mate?

'Oh, some great choices!' boasted Hugh as he read through them all.

You smile at him, eyes softening. 'You've awakened the musical theatre beast.'

'Y/n, there's so many good choices! What do we pick?!' he grabbed your hand and squeezed as you watched him with joy.

There was a few choices: 'Love is an Open Door,' from Frozen, 'The other side,' which Hugh obviously did for The Greatest showman. But there was also 'The Love Melody' from Moulin Rouge and 'You're the one that I want,' from Grease and when you both saw that you gave each other a look and knew which one you were picking.

By the end when your results came up you cheered and punched the air, practically jumping out you seat. 'Ladypool! God, this felt like my audition for the character all over again,' you wipe pretend sweat from your brows. 'What did you get?'

Hugh showed you his phone. 'Ladypool! I got Ladypool!'

'We're so alike!' you entwined your fingers. Slowly and dramatically the two of you leant in, pretending you were going in for what would have been a very wet kiss before you both pulled back and explained your answers.

You and Hugh with Alison Hammond again!

The interview with the two of you and Alison Hammond was pretty much the two of you flirting and Alison fangirling. Fans couldn't stop editing it together.

'Ok so obviously there's been a lot of competition between the two of you, so we need to settle who's better once and for all,' said Alison. 'So i've got a series of challenges for the two of you to complete but there's a twist.'

'We're naked!' said Hugh causing you to laugh. 'No, sorry.'

Alison handed you both each a boxing glove. 'I want you to put one on each and sign your autographs, which ever is close wins the point.'

'You're on, Jackman,' you said, already sliding your hand into the boxing glove.

Hugh gave you a cocky smile. 'I am so gonna win this, you know why? Cause you've given me a right boxing glove, but i'm left-handed!' he quickly got to scribbling his autograph.

'Fuck!' you cursed, struggling with your own. (It was bleeped out on this morning).

When you handed them both back to Alison it was obvious who the winner was. 'Thanks for this guys, it'll do numbers on Ebay.'

The two of you practically topple on each other with how hard you laugh.

Next you had to try to open a bottle of water with your gloves on and pour it into glasses and try drinking from it, both of which you failed at. Then the two of you just started fighting each other so Alison called it off like she was your teacher in a rowdy class.

'So, as I am a morning presenter, I thought I'd see how good the two of you would be if you had your own Hugh and Y/N morning show- so here's some guards, scoot closer, scoot closer,' said Alison.

The two of you took the cards and moved your chairs together until your thighs were pressed together. You waited for your cue before the two of you began your audition for your own morning show.

Hugh threw his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in.

'No, Hugh,' you denied, 'we must be professional on tv!'

Alison cackled. 'Yeah, you wouldn't do that on tv.'

Hugh looked offended at the both of you. 'We're re-defining what it means!'

You push him off you and hit him with your cards.

Hugh assesses the camera. 'Where's the shot? Above our chests, perfect, so I can do this.' And he puts his hand on your thigh, sprawling it out as you bite your lip to stop the grin.

'I'm taking this audition seriously, Hugh!'

Finally, the two of you start, acting as if it was a real morning show while Alison gave you pointers.

'Did you have a good weekend?' Hugh asked you (in reality all your weekends had been spent in his company) 'What did you get up to?'

You shrug. 'Nothing much.'

'No,' he interrupted causing you and Alison to laugh. 'When I ask a generic how was your weekend, you have to tell me a great funny story that we've set up before. So, Y/N, what did you do on your weekend?'

'I went fishing,' you said the first thing that popped into your head.

'Did you fall in?' he asked.

'I fell in.'

'That's hilarious!' the way he said it and the way he looked into the camera, caring about it just made you laugh so bad. 'Don't go anywhere, we'll see you after the break!' you were still laughing when Hugh wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck, making kissing noises and hiding behind the cards.

Even more at the premier

You and Hugh stood next to each other, him keeping an arm around your waist as you both listened to the interviewer ask you questions.

'So, Y/N, we found this interview from 2017 and we thought Hugh might like to take a look at it,' they said, pulling out their phone and clicking on a video.

As soon as it started playing, you knew what it was. 'Oh god.' you hid yourself, turning to Hugh as he watched.

It was the famous heart-rate monitor interview, where, when you saw a picture of a shirtless Hugh Jackman, your heart-rate spiked higher than any other picture.

Hugh was smiling the whole time and beamed at you when the video finished. 'You have that effect on me,' he assured you, leaning his head on top of yours and smiling at the interviewer.

'Y/N, do you still feel that way when you look at him now?' they asked.

'More,' you said, speaking loudly over all the noise. 'I feel it ten times more.'

And fans, anyone, could see how much the two of you were in love. Whether it was just flirting or if it was real, it was there and everyone was happy for you.

As the two of you walked off, the camera followed you. Hugh's head was bowed low, seemingly taking low to you as his arm remained around your waist and yours came up to rub his back up and down. He laughed loudly at something you had said before dropping a kiss to the top of your head and continuing on the journey.

(there probably won't be part three but I'm working on another compilation with you and Hugh)

taglist (thank you all!): @geeksareunique, @angstdaddy, @tranquilty, @gotta-go-now, @pear-1206, @chronicallybubbly

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ The radio star lost ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Your husband was the feared serial criminal in New Orleans, Louisiana, and you where his dearly beloved wife, his right hand. So.. Oh what a despair was awaiting you soon..

Pairing : Human! Alastor x Wife! Reader

Word count : 3549 Words

Genre : Angst, Drama, Romance (a bit)

Warnings ➵ Murder, Swearing, Blood, Death, Guns,

Death penality, Corpses

a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Wife! Reader > Till death do us part < , seeing as this isn't really a continuation, but rather a prequel, it can be read as a stand-alone, hope ya'll still enjoy it just as much as the first part!♡

Another thing in advance, this is purely fiction and shall not be seen anywhere near reality, I do not condone anything in this and it's pureply based on fiction.

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

1933'

You were like Bonnie and Clyde. A criminal duo, invincible. Or so you thought.

Alastor, your beloved husband. The man you had known for almost two decades, married for almost one decade now. You loved him dearly, even with his little quirks and tendencies. He worked as a well-known and quite popular radio host in New Orleans. Yet he had a tendency for disposing of those he deemed right, you had helped him many times already. Having found out way before you even married him, how he was a murderer, yet you found it enticing, how his mind worked, who he deemed worthy to let go.

"Dear, the meal is almost ready!" You got pulled out of your thoughts by the soft voice of your husband. It was rather unusual for the man to cook in a marriage, but your relationship was far from ordinary, so you enjoyed it. His cooking was far better than yours after all. "I'm coming!" Standing up from the couch, you make your way over to the kitchen, there he was in all his glory. His brown hair was pushed back, glasses sitting on top of his head instead of resting on his nose, and sleeves pushed up to not get them dirty, ironic considering the amount of times he got them bloody. "It smells amazing my beloved! Thank you so much!" A quick peck was pressed to your husband's cheek, as you took a seat at the table, some amazing meal steaming on the table. Alastor puts his apron away, sitting down as he slides his glasses back onto his nose.

Dinner time was always one of your favorites during the day, enjoying a warm meal while talking to your husband about both of your days.

Just after you had finished dinner, your husband took a seat in front of the piano, letting his hands softly glide over the tiles. The instrument echoed with the soft tune he was playing. Walking behind him, you lay your arms around his neck softly, swaying your body a bit to the music he played. Alastor was a talented man with instruments, being able to play a few of them, the piano being one of them. Also quite talented with the violin. "Oh my darling, what a beautiful tune as always~" Humming along now. No one heard the screams coming from the basement. The desperate screams of your next victim.

"When we're talking about music right now my dearest, Mimzy invited us to her performance tomorrow! So how about we postpone our.. plans to the day after tomorrow?" No killing and instead going to Mimzy's show? Oh yes! "Oh, how lovely that sounds! Of course!" Agreeing to his proposal. But for now, you two get ready for bed, lying down in your shared bed.

Another one of your favorite times of the day, getting to lay down with him and finally rest, letting the stress and exhaustion of the day pass. "Did I ever tell you that I love you a lot?" Resting your head on your husband's chest now, who was silently reading a book, closing it now that you were talking to him. "Many times darling and I do love you a lot too~" Alastor knew his way around words for sure, he was such a sweet talker, but that's one of the things you appreciated about him. Raising your head to face him, you take a glance at his lips, before up into his eyes, you knew how he felt about touches he didn't initiate, right now you were only cuddling because he pulled you onto him. Chuckling lowly, he lowers his head down and captures your soft lips with his. Alastor's kisses mostly were soft, like a butterfly resting on your hand or like a spring breeze. Usually, his kisses were planted on your hand or cheek, but from now and then he gave you the satisfaction of a soft kiss on the lips, which always left you giggling like you were right now. Falling asleep in the safe embrace of your husband shortly after.

The next day went by smoothly. Alastor was busy with his work as a radio host, while you took care of the house and did some grocery shopping, meeting up with a few friends of yours over tea. Shortly before you went home for the day, you visited Alastors mothers grave to leave some flowers and clean it, you sadly never met her, but your husband tends to tell you a lot of stories about her. Sitting down by the grave for a minute, you tell her a bit about what Alastor has been doing, how you were loving his cooking and music as always. It was a habit of yours, you hoped she was listening to all the good things you were telling her about him. Taking your things after a while, you bid your goodbye to his mother's grave as you make your way back home. Putting away the groceries before starting to freshen up. Loving to take your time to get ready when you and Alastor decide to go out in the evening.

"Dearest I'm home!" Hearing the lovely voice of your husband calling from the door, answering him now, how you were getting ready. Putting on your favorite dress. It was made out of a beautiful deep red color with black lace all over it, a few gems here and there. Your best jewelry could of course not be missing, most of it you got from Alastor or your own mother. "Darling I'm ready! How far are you?" Exiting the bathroom now, searching for your husband and finding him in the kitchen with a glass of whisky. "Oh my, what do I see here? What a lovely gem you are darling!" Abandoning his glass, Alastor walks over to you, taking your hand as he twirls you around, before kissing the back of your hand. Clad in a black suit, his button-up shirt underneath dark red matching to your dress, while his bowtie was adorned with a red gem, he looked lovely. "My you also look lovely dearest! Definitely going to catch some eyes!" Hooking your arm in his now, you together leave the house and make your way to where Mimzy's show will be held.

Mimzy was a great friend of Alastor, a blonde gorgeous but short lady, who performed like no other. Arriving at the place, you were led to a table for the regulars, as Alastor and you were known by the staff by now. Ordering two drinks, as you await the show. Soon lights go out and Mimzy comes out, her singing and dancing amazing like always.

"Dollface! Pumpkin!" Mimzy's voice was booming as she approached your table, giving both of you an affectionate hug. You ended up talking with her for quite a while, telling her how amazing her performance was and that you were so glad that she invited you two again. Thanking you for your kind words, her attention quickly diverted to Alastor again. It was almost always like this, she said she liked both of you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that she did have a certain distaste for you. But you decided to let it slide like always, as you listened to Alastor tell Mimzy what you two were up to since you've last seen her.

Alastor of course started to notice how you were getting irritated by Mimzy and how she was only focusing on him. "My dear, I think my lovely wife is not feeling so well tonight, perhaps it would be better to take our leave now, still thank you for having us as always. Till the next time." Alastor stood up now as Mimzy stomped off with an annoyed face, extending his hand for you. Smiling at him softly as you take his hand and let him lead you outside. A shiver ran down your spine as your arms got goosebumps, a coat was soon placed over your shoulders, looking over to Alastor who watched you with a soft smile. "Dear, next time you feel uncomfortable please do tell me and we will leave immediately, you know how much I care for your comfort." Thanking him, you take his arm as he leads you through the park to your home, it was a little longer than walking through the streets, but it was calming to walk through nature together.

"Shall we head to bed? It's been a long day and evening." Taking the coat from your shoulders at home, he hangs it on the hanger beside the door. "I love that idea, let me tell you about my day in bed, I visited your mothers grave again." You were already walking to the room as you talked to him, so you weren't able to see his eyes follow you as they softened. It saddened him you never got to meet his mother, she would've loved you dearly, just as he does. Telling him all about what you told her before, how you left flowers and also cleaned her gravestone, as you settled into bed, as he was changing into his sleepwear. Alastor was so thankful for having a caring and lovely wife like you.

The night went by fast, today Alastor would finally have a day off from work, which meant a different kind of work today for both of you!

The steps down to the basement squeaked as Alastor put his weight on them, your heels making clicky noises as you followed him down a stark contrast in sound. And there sat the victim he deemed perfect for his next case. The screams would be recorded for his personal little collection. You were getting everything ready for him, it would be interesting to watch like always. Alastor changed so much when he killed, no shimmer or glimmer in his eyes, not how he looked at you, the soft gaze replaced with a blood thirsty one. Liking it quickly, you were soon getting rid of the victim, this time deciding to bury him in a forest, you opted for the forest a few times already even though it was a bit risky, it was the easiest to get rid of them. At home, Alastor decided to take a bath, as he told you to head to bed already with a kiss on your cheek.

When he joined you in bed, he looked relaxed, cuddling up to you. Murders always ended like this, it somehow made him so calm and affectionate with you. Placing a soft kiss on your neck, as his arms hold your waist. Your hand threaded through his brown soft locks, something you loved to do. For once your beloved husband fell asleep quicker than you, making you be able to watch him sleep, not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Alastor was often so stressed with work, yes he loved being a radio host, but it sometimes got to him. Rubbing your fingers over his cheek softly, then over the bags under his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Yourself slowly falling into dreamland.

Morning came way too quickly, Alastor was back to work, and while you decided to stay at home and do some housekeeping, a few rooms needed cleaning. A friend of yours stopping by to tell you how a new corpse was apparently discovered by the police, which is connected to the many murder cases lately. Tensing up a little bit when she told you how they discovered it in the forest after one of the farmers nearby saw some shadows in there. It couldn't be the corpse from last night, right? Simply agreeing with her that you would be careful, even telling her how your dear husband would never let something happen to you on his watch, which made her coo at your marriage, if only she knew..

Mid conversation your husband comes home, greeting you with a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves for the back of your home. Your friend leaves soon after, as you go and search for your beloved. Finding him in his office, gripping the table. You knew what was about to come.

"Dear?" Approaching him, Alastor pushes everything on his table off, papers scattering, a cup breaking as pens roll all over the floor. "They already discovered it.. HOW?! I was careful! Pathetic! How dare they! Are they making fun of me?!" Worried for your husband, yet you stood still, listening to him. "I had to talk about it today! At the broadcast! Act as if I was surprised! Haha! If only they knew! Right doll?!" Turning around, his eyes were darting around the room, before falling onto you, laughing as he took your hand to pull you in. "They really think they can discover us like this! US! They are worthless! Pathetic even! Oh my dear! We truly are the greatest!" He was twirling you around as if dancing now, despite no music playing. Only his mad monologue. You've dealt with this behavior a couple of times already, knowing to just let him act and talk for now as he pleased. "Oh, what a wonderful day my beloved! I will go and make my favorite dish for us now! How beautiful!" Leaving the room now, a skip in his step, as you bend down to clean up the mess your husband caused.

Joining him in the kitchen now, as he was softly humming to the radio as he was cooking his favorite, Jambalaya.

A knocking sounds from your door, looking up, you tell Alastor you are going to get it, and upon opening it you come face to face with a detective and a police officer. "Greetings ma'am, is your husband home?" His voice was deep, you nodded, leaning the door closed as you hurried into the kitchen to get your husband. "Greetings gentleman, how may I help you?" Alastor opened the door composed as ever, drying his hands from washing them with a clean towel, as he gave the men at the door a polite smile. You retreated back to the living room, still listening to their conversation. Asking him about the murder cases, why him? It was probably only because of the radio broadcast, right? Maybe his boss told him to talk about it without the detective's permission. As the door closes and Alastor is back in the kitchen, still calm as always as you join him. "Dear? What did they talk about?" Looking up at him with worry written all over your face, he turns to you. "Don't worry your pretty little head dearest, it was nothing to be mentioned! Smile dear, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Pushing the corners of your mouth up with his fingers now, making you smile, before shushing you out of the kitchen so he can cook. Not able to help it but worry, were you about to be figured out?

But over the course of the next few days it all calmed down again, no more police officers or detectives visiting you, which finally calmed your mind. Alastor meanwhile had found a new target, telling you about this man he met the other day and what bothered him. It was all back to normal now, which you were glad about. Till this one dreadful day.

Alastor and you made quick work of the man, your husband telling you to stay home this time to clean up and that he would take care of this on his own. You worried again, but he assured you that he would be quick, after cleaning up and getting rid of any evidence, you cleaned yourself and sat down to wait for your beloved. Yet after hours of not coming back, you grew anxious, desperate even to know what took him so long. As a knock echoes through your house, you rush to the door, opening it ready to scold your husband for taking so long, but your breath stops when a detective stands in front of you.. What happened?

He asked to enter your home, sitting you down on the couch as he took a seat opposite of you on the armchair. "Your husband got shot ma'am, he was burying a corpse, we assume him to be the serial killer at fault for so many murders lately. He passed away instantly, I'm sorry for your loss and to bring you this horrific and murderous news." Your ears were ringing. Huh? Shot? Was that man joking with you? Was he someone Alastor paid to prank you? No, he wasn't the type for these kinds of pranks. Tears were streaming down your face, burying it in your hands now, sobs shaking your whole body. If that stupid man just knew, knew how you helped your husband with everything! Stupid! "Ma'am I-" The detective started, when you darted up, grabbing the man by his hair and throwing him out of your house. "Get lost! Never show up again! Leave.. NOW!" Slamming the door shut now, he probably took this as a shock to knowing who your husband really was, but you knew that already for years. Sinking to your knees, your arms hug around you as your head hits the floor, screams and cries of agony echo through the now empty halls. Your husband, the man you loved so much was dead, just like this? What sick nightmare was this? Cries reduced to soft sobs when your throat started to hurt, by now your body was curled up into itself on the floor and like that, you fell asleep.

The next day you awoke to the sunlight, your body sore from crying and sleeping on the floor, looking around for a second, for Alastor before it doomed on you, he was dead. Shot like an animal.

Your mother accompanied you to identify your late husband, you of course clad in all black. His forehead is now adorned with a hole, the detective explaining to you that he was mistaken for a deer. Asking for some privacy from everyone, you were left alone in the room. If it wasn't for that damned hole he looked like he was simply sleeping, peacefully like the night before. Leaning down to press one last kiss to his temple. "I will always love you my dearest, for now and forever, till I join you in death."

Leaving the room, you didn't dare look back, you were going forward from now on, knowing that someday you would meet him again.

Your mother had offered for you to move back in with her, but you told her despite what he did, he was a lovely husband to you and that you weren't able to yet let go, which she understood. Back at your home, you sat down and just stared at the wall. Why did this have to happen? You could be cuddling together right now or enjoying a meal, but that would never be the case ever again. But you told yourself, swore yourself with that last kiss to his temple that you would carry on in his memory. And so you did, three more murders continued after your husband was dead, till you were discovered.

In front of the law, you were sentenced to the death due to having caused three murders yourself and helped with multiple, carried out by your late husband. You accepted it, not that anyone asked, but you would be seeing your husband again, at least you hoped you would. A few days later after the case was closed and you were sentenced, it happened.

1935'

"Alastor! Dearest! Charlie told me you wanted to see me?" Entering the radio tower with a bright smile, Alastor turned to you with his signature smile. "My beloved! You look lovely as always! Look at you, aren't you a little gem!" He was walking over to you, his red ears on his head bouncing slightly with each step he took. Closing your eyes now as he told you to do so, a sensation of something cold around your neck running through your body now. "Open up doll!" Opening your eyes and looking down, your eyes tear up. It was a necklace, that looked similar to one he gifted you on the first anniversary of your marriage. "Alastor.." Looking up at him, as a few tears escaped your eyes.

"Now now sweetheart, we don't want you crying hm? Smile dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" Giggling a little bit at that quote, he had used it so often when you two were alive. Not being able to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all around his face and lastly a big kiss on his lips, you would be apologizing for suddenly kissing him later, but right now you just needed to kiss him. "I'm glad you love it dearest!" His arms are around your waist now as he laughs at the tickling kisses placed on his face, starting to spin you around as with a snip of his fingers music starts to play.

Charlie and Vaggie watch the soft moment from the door, tears streaming from the blonde's face as her girlfriend pulls her away to give you two some privacy.

[trinkerichi]

The Amazing Toybox Circus!

A storybook - Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a very old toy shop.

An unremarkable sort of place with very few visitors. The shelves were lined with antique curiosities which had collected dust over the years.

Among these, atop a colorful wooden toy chest, was a simple kaleidoscope. It was inscribed with a strange design of teeth and eyes, and a poem about a magical circus.

...

Now, one might imagine the type of person would walk into such a place. Perhaps someone who has worked far too hard. Someone who feels unsatisfied with the tedium of every day life, and who longs for an escape into the fantastical world of imagination that playthings can inspire. This sort of person might look through a kaleidoscope and dream, just for a moment, of a new life filled with bright color, of fun and adventure.

This was the sort of person who suddenly woke up on the floor, surrounded by darkness and extremely confused.

Feeling dizzy and thoughts hazy, she righted herself and began to wander. A soft jingling noise followed her with every step, though she paid it no mind. There were more pressing issues at the moment.

She strained her mind trying to remember how she could have possibly ended up here. She clearly remembered entering a toy shop, but her thoughts beyond this were blank besides a vivid image of swirling colors. Red and blue spirals. All she knew at the moment was that she felt terribly afraid, and very very small.

Timidly, she called out-

"HELLO, MY NEWEST SUPERSTAR!"

An enormous wooden ventriloquist dummy suddenly burst from the shadows. His painted eyes gleamed, one blue, one green. His wooden teeth chattered as he loomed overhead. He pulled a white balloon on a string, which sported an equally large toothy grin.

The sight was positively terrifying.

"Welcome to the amazing toybox circus!"

"The ... the toybox what?" She squeaked in response.

"Why, the toybox circus of course! You're sure to have a grand time, my dear! " She was suddenly lifted up to meet his unsettling wooden gaze.

"My name is Caine! I'm your ringmaster," he continued at an unnecessarily loud volume.

"My dear, you've entered a wonderful world of whimsy and adventure, where anything can happen! Soon you'll meet your new friends and we shall put on a show!"

He spun her around before setting her down on the floor again.

The girl was speechless. Be part of a circus? Led by a talking puppet? Surely this was all a strange dream!

"I'm sorry, sir," she eventually said, somehow managing to speak politely considering the circumstances. "But I really must be getting home! If you'd kindly show me the way-"

"Oh but you simply must stay for the performance, my dear! I've prepared all sorts of activities that are sure to delight! Oh the audience will love you! You shall be the star attraction!"

The puppet was very insistent. At a loss, the girl considered her options were either to continue wandering the darkness or to trust this "ringmaster". Now she was an intelligent young lady, but she was also a curious sort. After all, curiosity was what brought her here in the first place, and curiosity compelled her to see what would happen next...

So despite better judgement, she finally said -

Hesitant but hopeful. Perhaps this would be interesting? At the very least, she could play along until finding a way out of this strange place, out of the toyshop and back home. Or until she woke up, as this was likely a dream after all.

"At any rate, this may be fun," she hoped out loud.

Something cackled from atop a large shelf. The silhouette was that of a rabbit, but with a wide yellow grin.

"Heh HEH! You'll soon see, little clown," he said, before hopping out of sight.

What an odd place this was...

----part 2 coming soon!

[flowerisevil]

Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen reader where she is Rhaenyra’s sister and daughter of Viserys and Aemma, she is pregnant when they visit King’s Landing and she has the baby so Alicent calls her as she does with Rhaenyra and Gwayne gets furious about it even more when Alicent insinuates that their son is not Targaryen so from then on he is team black.

Devotion

Gwayne Hightower X female reader Targaryen

A/N: I hope its okay that I use an original female character and i don't if i understand your request right but yeah here it is I hope you enjoy. Happy reading mwa!

Disclaimer: grammatical/typographical errors ahead, englisn is not my first language.

Warning: mention of blood, child birth, cursing, and no use of Y/N. Please tell me if I miss anything.

//

The married couple returned in Kings Landing from Oldtown for the King's funeral, the second born princess Targaryen along side her husband and her growing belly arrived at King's Landing, the princess was expecting to see her elder sister Rhaenyra only to hear that she had already departed with her family to Dragonstone.

"Your sister s-she is rather not very pleased to be here" the Queen explained of her sister's departure with her new husband Daemon.

"How is your pregnancy daughter?" Alicent asked, changing the topic.

The princess rub her belly as she smiled "It is great though a bit struggle happens"

Gwayne her husband held her hand that was caressing her stomach, as he joined their conversation "My wife pregnancy is very delicate, it is her first pregnancy and the maesters said her body needs a lot of rest"

Otto nodded in acknowledgement "I am happy for the both of you, you seem to grow fond of each other"

The couple smiled, they did indeed. "We truly did and Daeron in Oldtown is one of our witnesses" Gwayne chuckles, the poor boy was tired seeing the two couple always on each other like what a newlywed partners would do.

Alicent sighs at the mention of her youngest son "and how is he? Daeron?"

"He is doing good, a boy full of wit, a good sword fighter" the princess explained ".....he is very kind your grace, a soft hearted child, his heart has a space for animals" she added, her youngest half brother was a great boy, far away from them. He is a chivalrous boy.

"I should talk to the both of you outside, may I?" Alicent turned to them, the couple simply nodded as all of them walked outside the chamber.

"I wish for your wife to give birth here in Red Keep" Alicent said, the princess frowned but before she could give reaction her husband spoke first.

"I wish my child to be born in Oldtown, why you must decision for that?"

Alicent looks resigned to her brother's fire backs.

"It is an order from your Queen" was all the Queen say before she entered the room, shutting the door before them.

Gwayne's clenched fist softened as she caress it. "We shall give it to them for now Gwayne, there's nothing we could lose for giving them a small favor"

Gwayne rolled his eyes "Oh please that is my sister, and I am a Hightower I know how one thinks"

Gwayne was never unknown to the small resentment his sister Queen had for his wife, even before Alicent was a young lady she had always envied the younger princess, the princess was smarter, kind, beautiful, she was like a glowing light walking through the halls of the Keep, everyone pleased her, and when she was on the right age for marriage she was married to him, the heir to Oldtown and a knight. She had the life his sister was deprived of.

And he knew Alicent has some plans behind this little show of hers.

And he was not wrong.

His wife give her the favor, she gave birth between the walls of Red Keep, her screams and groaned echoed all over the Keep, they can hear her dragon Silverwing roaring for her rider.

"Lord Gwayne you shall not enter, you should be somewhere else or perhaps on the training grou-" the servants shuts when his collar was tigtly gripped.

His wife birth was no jest, the Maesters had informed them before her birth that her body was weak, and she might be carrying a boy for having such a hard labor.

"Don't you understand my wife's condition? She needs me, let me in" Gwayne scowled but his request was denied as the servants pulled him away from the room.

One of the Maesters came out, his face full of worry "My Lord, the princess"

"How is my wife?"

"The princess...she is trying her best my Lord but I must be honest with you, I have both a good and bad message to deliver" the Maester exhales before he continued. "The good one is that the princess is able to push half of the babe's body"

Gwayne wanted to smile, he will finally have an heir and child that he had hope would taken the look after his beautiful wife but knowing that the news has a bad new to come, he can't help but worry for his princess.

"And what is the other one?"

"The babe was rather in an unfortunate position, in birth the head of the babe should be the first thing to come out but in her condition it is unfortunately the other way around"

"You mean my baby's head is still stuck inside of her?"

The Maester nodded "and it is quite dangerous my Lord, we might lose the babe"

Gwayne nodded but frustration covered his face, what would happen to his wife and child?

"Unless my Lord you wish to cut open the princess to save-" the Maester wasn't able to finish his words as he stumble on the ground from Gwayne's singld punch.

"You will do no such thing, what you will do is save my wife from that horrible state whatever it takes, my wife shall come out of that room fine and alive, you hear me?" He command, his knuckled has some blood stained from punching the man.

The Maester nodded and walked back inside the room, Gwayne sat on the cold floor, they will have to save his wife one way or another.

"Your father wish to see you Ser Gwayne" one of the guard approached him and spoke.

"I do not wish to leave my wif-"

"The Lord Hand wants me to tell you it is urgent" the guard continued, Gwayne groaned out of frustration, slowly standing up and walked to his father's office.

On the other hand the princess was lie down on the bed, blood was everywhere.

"Your grace, another push please you are doing well" one of the midwives encourage. Another scream filled the room, stained tears on her cheeks.

The nursemaid and midwives encourage her more, as she continued pushing out the babe inside her, her situation was hard to watch, as they looked at her filled with concern for the princess, she looked tired and breathless. Some of her handmaidens that was present was tearing seeing their princess crying out from pain.

Another scream filled the room once again.

"It is a boy!" The Maester finally announced. Holding a baby boy on its hands, the room filled with cheer as they ran to the princess, immediately handing her help, some wash their sweat, some clean her up.

She smiled as she saw her son being washed and wrapped, she was still shaking but she insisted to hold her child. A boy...an heir for her husband.

The cheering stop as they all looked at the door opening revealing a concerned servant "M-my princess...the Queen s-she uh"

"What of the Queen? Speak clearly"

"She said that she wish to see her grandchild, and you aswell, she wish for you to deliver her grandchild to her" the servants finished, murmurs, shock gaps and whispers filled the room, looking concerned for the princess.

The princess sigh, so this why she wants her to stay here? To have something to play with?

She stood up, legs shaking, her whole was is shaking rather, the nursemaids guide her to carry her newborn son.

"Princess....you're body is still trembling, you shall not walked around the castle or els-"

"Who are we to deprive the Queen a sight of her grandchild" she smiled weakly, as she embrace her son and start walking through the Halls, her whole full of sweat and blood still dripping on her legs.

The news arrived Gwayne's ear, one of his men bargen inside his father's office sending the news of his wife's succesful delivery, Gwayne stood up and left the room fast, his knight walk fast closely to him.

"But my Lord the princess has already left her delivery room, the servants said she immediately left as soon as she gave birth" his man informed.

Gwayne stopped his footsteps.

"They said her Grace had asked for your wife's immediate presence after her birth"

That mad woman. Gwayne was so done of his sister, she is nothing but a horrible Queen, he let her and their father do whatever they have wanted in this castle, corrupting the King, ruining the life of his wife's older sister but he would not let him take advantage of his wife's kind nature.

Gwayne ran as soon as he saw her walking through the halls, his mouth opened but no words came out as he saw her state. Trembling, body covered of sweats and bloodstains, her dress was not very appropriate to see, and his fist clenched as he saw the path of blood dropping from her legs as she walk. Was this is the sigh his Queen sister wish to see?

She wasn't suppose to even raise a finger after her horrifying birth but now she is walking around carrying their babe. He ran to them and cautiously held her back.

"My wife, where are you going?" He tried to sound calm to not show any hint of frustration and anger on his voice.

"Oh ask your dear sister, my love s-she wish to see our child" her voice was hoarse it sounded to frail almost like a whisper from all the screaming she made.

His jaw clenched, he looked at his men and ordered him to bring a nursemaid as soon as the nurse came he told her to carry their child inside the room.

"Gwayne but the Queen-"

"I would have the talk with her, you shall not worry she will be able to see our child when the right time has come, and that right time is when you finally have a rest and sleep" his voice was soft but full of authority, he slowly lower himself to carry her in bridal style.

His eyes cannot lie and his wife can see it, she see right through him. The anger she can almost see what she is plotting inside his head.

The princess lean on his chest. "Do not let anger took over you Gwayne, talk to her nicely"

Oh he would definitely do have a nice talk with his cunt sister.

"Please Gwayne, I would not wish you to be in trouble"

"She took advantage of you darling, how do you wish me to react when I see you trembling as blood drip from your legs walking through this long fucking halls of castle nothing but fragile? Do you wish for me to celebrate?" Gwayne sarcastically spoke, he hated her wife for being a too much proper but he also loved her the same way.

"I kinda wish you do, I gave you a boy. An heir" she smiled, her eyes sparkles as she look over the maid who was carrying their child, Gwayne smiled looking over the babe.

"I am happy more than happy actually, but I would not want to put you in that situation again"

"It is normal state they said"

"Still I would not want to risk you again, I am happy with you no matter with heir or none but now I have a young version of you, I would have more very reason to go home and wake up everyday"

She was his life, she made him whole, losing her would be a big tragedy to him, the day he vowed to her that he will love her with all he can offer, he did not just love her, he stayed and place his faithfulness to her.

As he slowly placed his wife om their chamber, he send her handmaidens and Maester to look after her, clean her and check if she need something to be mend.

He barged inside the council room knowing they will be their, the members looked at him, Otto spoke first breaking the silence.

"My son, as far as I remember you do not have a seat in this room to attend to"

Gwayne scoffs, as he eyed for his sister. "Is this your plan? Why you wanted my wife to give birth here? To make her suffer?"

"It is the King's dying wish"

"Oh I believe is it? Just like how his dying wish is to fucking crown Aegon as his heir, despite your son being brainless smug"

"To say that such thing to the prince is treason, what is it that makes you so angry Gwayne?" Otto tap his son shoulder but he immediately pull back.

"Your Queen, made my wife walk through the halls right after she gave birth to our child, have I not told you that her pregnancy is risky? Yet you made her walk instead of giving her the time to regain her energy"

Alicent snapped a look at him, the two children of Otto Hightower faced each other. "I wish to not harm her, I simply wish to see her and my grandchil-"

"Is that really it? Or perhaps you are so envious of seeing my wife live the life you wished you had?"

A deafening silence filled them, the members each switch looks between the Queen and Gwayne Hightower.

"You shall not touch my wife anymore and so is our child, we will leave here as soon as she recover" Gwayne discussed. Otto approached his son.

"What about your army? we need them incase Rhaenyra declares war after we declare Aegon as King" Otto explained.

Gwayne chuckles, the audacity of his father to think that he will give him his army.

He did not answer them instead walked out the room, he will make sure what they did to the princess will be delivered to the future Queen Rhaenyra.

//

She arrived at the chamber, she was welcomed by the sight of his beautiful wife holding their child, he slowly walked to them sitting on the edge of bed beside his wife.

"We will leave here tomorrow, I can and will not go another days with those cunts around you and our son" Gwayne spoke, caressing his wife's silver white hair, he sighed as he continued to reveal another thing.

"They plan to make Aegon King"

The princess turned her face to him, her face was confused hoping she heard him wrong.

"They know Rhaenyra is the heir, the future Queen of the realm our father made it known before he died, he declared her as his heir" she explained, she and Gwayne were both there as she was declared the rightful heir to the throne.

"I know but those two said it was the dying King's wish, I do not believe."

"We shall go to Dragonstone and send words to Rhaenyra..." She trailed, something in her was nervous what if Gwayne would not side with her?

"Yes we must, as soon as possible my love and make it clear to your sister that we bend our knee for her" Gwayne leaned his forehead to hers, his gaze moves to their son.

The boy had her eyes, lilac gaze, he had his nose and lips.

This is all what Gwayne had asked and wished when he married his wife, a whole family but with the upcoming war he knows they will have to be extra careful.

He will bent the knee for Rhaenyra but his wife and son's safety would remain a top of his list.

[wordstome]

COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs

Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader

⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan

⤐Premise: You just moved into a neighborhood with a high population of retired military personnel.

*glances at my 3-4 wips* let's talk about some dilfs, shall we? ...Don't look at me. I had a vision. (No relation to the actual characters from Dream Daddy, just a similar premise) Also a disclaimer: I'm writing these dads mostly in their late 30s to 40s, but don't think about their ages and the ages of their kids too much. This is all vibes. And sorry ahead of time if I gave one of the kids the same name as you 💀 Feel free to imagine the kid has a different name because the names really don't matter

p.s. I wanted to write more characters but I had to reel myself in. I could be persuaded to write a part 2 with Vaqueros, Nikolai, Valeria, Nikto, and other Ghosts tbh

Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.

Price: A post about DILFs and you expect me not to start with Captain John Price? Price is the lynchpin of this cul de sac. He's the one inviting everyone over to the barbecue, tries to get the dads to get along, and gives everyone advice. He has the quintessential dad energy. He 100% slaps his knees and says "well!" when he gets up. Price also has major girl dad energy. He's got three adorable little ladies, aged 3 (Clara), 9 (Brianna), and 11 (Alice). Yes, he did name his daughters in ABC order, I can see him doing that. Oh, he dotes on his girls, and they love their dad endlessly. He's the model father: recitals, sports, parent teacher conferences, you name it, he's there.

That's how the two of you meet: he comes up to you at one of the aforementioned events and gives you a firm handshake and apologizes profusely for not coming around to introduce himself earlier. It's not like him not to at least swing by, and he hopes you can forgive him the discourtesy. He hands you his number and says anything you need, just give him a call, or maybe swing by for a beer sometime. He gives you a wink that makes your knees weak, a wink that says he definitely noticed you checking out his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Maybe you will swing by for that beer sometime—and maybe get a little more than just a drink.

Ghost: I could see Simon having a one night stand kid. He certainly never saw himself starting a family after he lost his last one, but he was stressed and probably piss drunk as well. Years and years later, he's back from deployment and finds a social worker with a boy on his doorstep, and the rest is history. I love the idea of Simon with a moody 16 year old, but I actually see Simon and his son having the same dynamic as Mike and Abby Schmidt from the FNAF movie. Since Simon wasn't around for Caden's early childhood, they have a relationship that's undeniably father and son, but leaning towards casual and sibling-like. Simon's figuring his shit out, dealing with his PTSD and the various lasting health issues his time in special forces has left him with, and Caden's a quiet, sensitive 10 year old boy who thinks the world of his dad.

You meet Simon at the local bar. His Ghost days are long behind him, but the balaclava's a hard habit to kick. Besides, he doesn't need people staring at his scars. He's usually there with the 141, but today he's alone, and looks like he could use some company. You sit up at the bar close to him and order a drink, but you don't disturb him, and he visibly relaxes when he realizes you're not going to try to make small talk. It becomes a routine, the two of you: always sharing a quiet drink together at the bar, and then both of you wordlessly go home to your kids. You have a sort of silent conversation every time: Good to see you again. Yeah, you too. Neither of you actually speak a word to the other until Price introduces you to him at a gathering, and you finally hear his voice. "We've met before," he says, with a glint in his eye that suggests perhaps he'd like to be more than just a silent drinking buddy. That's fine with you: you're dying to see what's under the mask and dark hoodie.

Soap: JOCK ALERT. Johnny's basically Craig from Dream Daddy: total dreamboat who goes on runs around the neighborhood and gets all the appreciative looks from the local moms. He thrives on the attention in a way that definitely makes the 141 roll their eyes. He's got an older little girl named Elodie, and a lil baby boy Thomas that he takes everywhere with him. Obviously he's just being a responsible parent taking care of an infant, but secretly, Thomas is a great conversation starter with aforementioned local moms.

Conversely however, it's Johnny who makes the move on you first. Maybe in the grocery store, maybe at one of Price's get-togethers. Sidles up to you and introduces himself with a look in his eye that means trouble. Only the good kind of trouble, of course. If you reciprocate and he finds out you're single, you're not getting rid of him. But why would you want to, anyway? He's endlessly charming, attentive, and good with his hands. When he's fixing a leaky tap for you, of course—what did you think I meant?

Gaz: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a fucking heartthrob. I'm saying it right here, right now. He's a walks in with flowers, makes you dinner kind of partner. Also househusband vibes, because, surprise: Kyle is still married. This isn't a Joseph (Dream Daddy) situation, though: he and his wife, Emily, have known each other for a long time, a very high school sweethearts situation. Over the years, though, they drifted apart with Kyle in the military, and Emily eventually realized she's not actually into men. They're still married for coparenting purposes: they've got an older teenage girl named Violet, and a younger boy named Elliott. (Yes, I'm naming him after Elliot Knight, sue me.)

Honestly, I think it would be HILARIOUS if you met Kyle on a dating app and realized he's your next-door neighbor. But however you guys meet, Kyle is an old-school courter kind of guy. He is taking you on dinner dates, listening to you rant about your day, and is on your doorstep in a heartbeat when you call him in a panic because your kid's running a 105 fever (41 in Celsius) and you need a ride to the emergency room. (Not that the other dads wouldn't do the same, but I'm trying to convey "most reliable man in the world" vibes here.)

König: Y'all...you don't know how much fucken time I've spent thinking about this man as a dad. He's in the same boat as Ghost where he never saw himself living long enough to start a family, but here he is with the most precious little girl you've ever laid eyes on. Ava's got her father's curly hair and big green eyes, and she has her dad wrapped around her pinky finger. For König, Ava is living proof that he's capable of being more than just a tool for violence.

You meet König through Ava, of course. Your kids are the closest of friends, and the two of them are constantly going over to each other's houses. You're obviously delighted that your kid is making new friends and fitting in so well, but you'd be lying if your heart didn't skip a beat whenever you open your door to see Ava's six foot ten dad standing there with soft eyes and a sheepish smile. I have to stop here, because I've already written an extra paragraph for this man that I've cut out and pasted for safekeeping in my notes app, and if encouraged I will write more. (Please encourage me.)

Horangi: I know we already had a sort of Robert (Dream Daddy) figure with Ghost, but I think Horangi is a dad whose kid is an adult, much like Robert and Val. I also think that out of all the dads, Horangi is likely the one who's still doing some level of military work. Either that, or he has a very demanding job that takes up a lot of his time. He's ashamed of the way he let his gambling affect his family in the past, and is making up for it by being responsible and keeping his finances in order.

You don't meet him until you've lived in the neighborhood for quite a while, but he pops up at a gathering, talking quietly with König in a corner. You'd thought you had met every neighbor in the cul de sac, so you're intrigued by the newcomer. Someone, probably Price, tells you what Hong-jin's deal is, and ever since that you just can't keep your eyes off of him. You can't quite work up the nerve to talk to him, so you occupy yourself talking with the other parents. Some time later, you're at the food table grazing on the snacks when you look up and make eye contact with him. There's something intense in his gaze that makes you freeze, like a deer in headlights. He's definitely checking you out, you think. Your chest erupts into nervous butterflies when he starts walking towards you.

Keegan: Keegan is an adoptive father! I love his dynamic with the Walker boys, so I can see him being the kind of guy who adopts an older teenager so they have a home and a family instead of aging out of the system. Jason and Cecelia are high school age siblings who would have been separated otherwise, and consider Keegan their dad in every way that's important.

I think you and Keegan are definitely rivals in some way. Maybe it's a PTO thing, maybe he gets a little too boisterous at your kids' sports game. Whatever it is, you can't stand the man, but your annoyance whenever he's around only seems to amuse him. You have no problem saying to his face exactly what you think about him, but unfortunately, Keegan can see right through you. And hey, Cecelia could use some experience as a babysitter, so you won't have to worry about spending the night over at his place, will you?

As always, I wanna hear peoples' thoughts and feedback! If you want to hear more about these dads, drop me an ask <3

[burnthoneydrops]

Lavender's Blue, Dilly Dilly (c.b. x fem!reader)

pairing: colin bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none? but let me know if i missed any!

a/n: Ah! the first of my "if i was a girl in a book" series is here with sound of music meets colin bridgerton! there will definitely be more parts to this (at least i think there will) but i wanted to introduce the idea of the series with this part first! hope you enjoy, let me know what you think! pt 2

The Bridgerton house is terrifying. Not necessarily the contents of the building, though you can not exactly speak for that as you had not entered the house yet, but the actual building is terrifying. It is beautiful and warm and spectacular and terrifying. You take a deep breath and close your eyes before marching up the front steps, placing your two bags down on either side of you, and knocking on the door. It takes approximately two seconds for the doors to open and expose the wide foyer and many footmen seemingly standing around waiting for your arrival. What ensues is the most awkward staring contest of your life; the man who opened the door stares seemingly into your soul, the blankest of stares on his face. 

“Good morning, my name is Y/N and I am here to see Lady Violet Bridgerton,” you finally break the silence, hoping he will stop staring at you if you say something regarding your presence. 

With his arms stuck to his sides and his neck turning only when his body does, the footman marches down the hall and announces your presence in the doorway. The shuffling of many feet against wood and carpet sound soon after, and you are greeted by two little heads staring from the doorframe. You wave delicately, readjusting the bag you had yet to put down in your clenched fist before deciding to put everything down in hopes of looking more welcoming and open. 

“Ah, Miss Y/N, what a pleasure it is to have you!” An older woman in a beautiful periwinkle dress makes her way over to you. Looking down quickly at your brown frock, you push any insecurity out of your mind before sticking your hand out to shake. “Oh no, we’re a hugging household if you don’t mind,” Violet interjects your inner monologue. “Oh, not at all,” you put your arm down and let her initiate the hug, feeling both increasingly awkward and welcome at the same time. 

“Your timing is impeccable, as all my children actually happen to be in the same place at the same time,” the woman laughs. So this is Lady Bridgerton.

“Well, when one has a home this exquisite, I would be partial to staying here as much as possible,” you compliment. 

“I have a feeling we shall get along quite well Miss Y/N,” Lady Bridgerton smiles at you, and you feel like you have gained a victory, if not a very small one. “Children! Come greet our guest!” Oh. You are going to meet all the children right now. Splendid. 

A cluster of frenzied bodies makes their way out into the foyer, the two younger ones that poked their heads at you earlier leading the charge. They soon formed a line, appearing oldest to youngest– though you could not confirm– and you hold back a laugh as the two littlest ones battle it out for a spot in the lineup. 

“Gregory! Hyacinth! Stop that at once, we do not want to be confusing your new governess on her first day,” the oldest–or at least the first in line– yells while leaning over the back of the line. 

“Apologies, they are not always like this,” Lady Bridgerton comments to you, standing by your side and looking disappointedly at her children. 

“Mother, do not lie,” the second in line crosses his arms over his chest as the third suppresses a chuckle with a cough. You try not to laugh along with him, and he catches your shared moment, smiling at you while rolling his shoulders back and tucking his arms behind him. 

“Well, I believe it is time that you should all introduce yourselves,” Lady Bridgerton waves her arm down the line in demonstration. 

“I am Anthony, the oldest and the head of the household,” Anthony starts, stepping forward slightly then stepping back like a soldier. 

“Very pleased to meet you,” you nod, smiling lightly.

“I am Benedict, second oldest,” he goes to readjust his vest and you notice the charcoal marks under his nails and the paint on his thumbs. 

“An artist too I see,” you comment, and his eyebrows raise in amusement and confusion. “Your hands give you away,” you explain, nodding to the signs you gathered. His mouth forms a silent ‘ah’ before tucking his hands behind his back. 

“Colin,” the third one nods at you with a sly smile on his face, “third, one and twenty, and without need of a governess”. 

“Though some may beg to differ,” one of the girls further down the line pipes up, causing the two youngest to giggle under their breath. 

“Well, I am sure we will get to know each other well on adult terms then,” you nod, trying to keep the situation light. 

The girls keep the line going, Lady Bridgerton informing you that Daphne, the oldest daughter, was to debut this year and that while you would mainly be watching over the smallest two children, it would be much appreciated if you were to aid the girls in their more accomplished skills as well. 

“It would be a delight ma’am,” you smile, and when Lady Bridgerton announces that you will need to be shown to your room, Gregory and Hyacinth (whose names you now have committed to memory) are quick to grab a hand on either side of you and drag you up the stairs. Eagerly waiting to get to know their new companion better, you are left to wave a hasty goodbye to the rest of the family as you nearly trip over the initial stair for the children are oh so speedy.

The first night finds you unable to sleep. The space is unfamiliar and the job so incredibly daunting. Though you have faith that you can achieve what you set out to do, it does not make the prospect of having to live with eight children, one mother, and who knows how many staff any less immeasurable. When the Bridgerton family had written to the greater community that they were in search of a new governess, you had never imagined that they would select you, but you were of course more than grateful. Coming from humble beginnings yourself, the cavernous environment and the sheer amount of people in it were enough to spike your anxiety. After tossing on your side for the 100th time, you finally strike a match, lighting the candle on your bedside table and grabbing your diary from beside it. Writing letters to family and friends had become a habit of yours when you could not sleep, which you are not eager to admit happens frequently. You begin writing a letter to your mother, the words spilling out of you as the ink bleeds through the page and onto your hands. Paying no mind to anything other than writing, you are shaken out of your mental tunnel with a quick knock on your door. 

“Yes?” You call through, quickly shoving your diary under your pillow. 

The door opens hesitantly, and Colin peeks his head through the frame. “My apologies, I saw the light under the door on my way down the hall and feared someone had left it burning in their sleep”. 

“Oh,” you laugh awkwardly, “do not fret Mr. Bridgerton, it was merely me”. 

“Were you unable to sleep?” 

“Yes, but not to worry, it was merely,” you pause and realise there is rain tapping at your window, “the storm”. 

“Ah. I know a few of my younger siblings are unable to sleep during storms as well,” he nods in understanding. 

As if responding to a cue, Hyacinth runs up to the door and Colin opens it wider. Her creased forehead and pouted lips are enough for you to open your arms, sending her flying onto your bed. She ducks her head into your pillows, covering her ears further as thunder claps outside your window. You rub your hand along her back, looking between her and Colin who still stands at your door. 

“My dear, did the storm frighten you?” It feels like an obvious question, but one must cover all bases when dealing with new children. Lest you forget when, two families ago, one of the middle children was not scared of the storm, but of the fact that his older brother was chasing him down the hallway with a fish head. How they had even come across such a thing you will never know. Hyacinth nods her head and you pat the space next to you, whispering quiet shushing sounds in her ear as you hear another set of feet approaching your door. Colin looks down the hall as Gregory comes to join the party. 

“Were you scared as well darling?” You ask, scooting your legs to the farthest edge of your bed to make more room. 

“No! I wasn’t scared…I was merely coming to check on Hyacinth,” he sounds unconvinced. You nod in agreement, muttering ‘of course’ to save him his image of masculinity when another round of thunder rolls through. That masculine facade is quick to fall as Gregory runs up onto your bed, taking up the space behind Hyacinth. Colin chuckles and you send him a death glare to avoid him making fun of his siblings. 

“Now now, the storm cannot hurt us inside. We have light, and windows from which to watch the storm pass if we so choose,” you try reassuring them, but it seems to do little good as the children keep in their tucked positions. 

There is suddenly a fourth Bridgerton entering your room when Francesca makes her way in, her head down in fear and shame. You open your arms wider, allowing her a safe space in which to take refuge, and she joins the cluster of Bridgertons on your bed. “Couldn’t sleep,” she mutters before wrapping her arms around Gregory.

“You know what always makes me feel better in times like these?” You look between the three closest to you. None of them give a verbal answer, but Hyacinth raises her head from the pillows, looking at you with the saddest eyes known to man. “My mother used to sing to me when I was scared of the storms. Would you like a song?” Francesca is the first to nod, then Hyacinth. Gregory is last, first trying to keep a tough illusion but quickly dropping it when lighting flashes into view from your window. 

“Lavender’s blue dilly dilly, lavender’s green. When I am queen dilly dilly, you shall be king,” you begin. When you aren’t watching, Colin closes your bedroom door, leaning against the closest wall. “Who told you so, dilly dilly, who told you so? Twas my own heart dilly dilly, that told me so”. He hadn’t been expecting much when his mother informed the family of the new governess that was to join them, in fact he had rather been irritated by the idea. The youngest children always found a way to scare them off and it seemed like a waste of time and money in his opinion, but his mind is slowly being changed. Watching you interact with his siblings in such a kind a heartfelt manner, especially with it being less than 24 hours since your arrival stirs something within him. He does not quite have a name for it yet, but there is something compelling him to stay in place rather than walking the few extra steps to his room. 

Perhaps he could get used to having a new member of the household.

[limethefirst]

PART 2 OF VOID RUNNERS PLEASEE😭🙏

Void Runners Pt.2

pairings: Deadpool x Wolverine x teen!reader

warnings: contains heavy spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine, swearing, crude humor, Deadpool

summary: After escaping Cassandra's lair you find yourself tagging along with Deadpool and Wolverine in hopes of saving their universe as well as getting out of the void

Part 1

a/n: Ask and you shall receive! This is a continuation of Void Runners since people seemed to really enjoy it! I hope it lives up to what you guys were expecting, I was thinking of ways to involve the reader a bit more! Request are open

You had no idea what was happening. One moment you were watching as Cassandra was about to let the giant monster known as Alioth eat you, the next you were being squished by Deadpool on some type of rocket soaring through the sky escaping the close clutches of death itself.

There wasn't much time to process anything because you were already about to crash, and were flung straight into the hard, dusty ground you've come to know as the Void.

A groan escaped you lips as you sat up, looking towards your new companion's, Deadpool and Wolverine; noticing how Deadpool was on top of him, your brows raised a bit.

"What cha' thinking 'bout?" Deadpool asked him, his voice laced with an innocent tone.

Logan wasn't fond of this at all, "Get the fuck off of me," he said, almost growling at the man.

"Shh shh, almost done"

"Almost done what?!" he look up at Deadpool, concerned about what he meant by that.

Deadpool now changed his tone to a more annoyed one, "Getting my knife out of your buttock, you pervert! Get your bind out of my pants!" Both men were now getting up, "I'm telling Blake!"

Deadpool looked over to you and grabbed your arm pulling you up next to him. Then he gave you a silly thumbs up, which you didn't understand why but just gave him a smile in return as a thank you for the gesture.

"New rule!" Logan began again, "I talk now" this time he looked at you as well.

"I haven't even said anything?!" You looked at him confused. Throwing your arms up a bit, and looking at Deadpool as well.

"Hush little one, Papa is talking right now" Deadpool looked over to you, holding up one finger to signal you to be quiet as he talked to Logan. You threw your arms up again now looking at Logan as he groaned at whatever was going on, obviously exhausted.

"Shut the fuck up!" Logan had now turned around, "Let me fucking think, we gotta get back to paradox right? Right?"

"Am I allowed to speak now?" Deadpool asked him sarcastically, you could tell he was smiling.

"Just nod asshole" Logan was fed up at this point.

Deadpool gave in and gave Logan a slight up and down, letting his buddy say what he needed to. Logan then looked at you as if something in his brain clicked.

"Johnny said something about others before you got him killed!"

"Poor kid? He was like fifty!" Deadpool shoots back, insulted by the comment.

Logan looked back at you, "You've been here longer then any of us have, do you know where we can find these guys?"

You hesitated before speaking to him, "I have an idea," you said, Logan looked back at Deadpool and nodded.

"You're gonna help us find them and get us out of here," Logan told you. He wasn't willing to listen to any protest, but you didn't care to argue, this was your chance at escape and by God you were gonna take it.

"Alright, I'll do my best then." You nodded at him, jumping on the bandwagon of opportunity.

"Oh I knew it was a good idea to bring you along sugar sprinkles!" Deadpool said as he patted your back, which honestly felt more like a hard slap, that lightly pushed you forward.

"You better fix my shit like you fucking promised," Logan pointed his finger at Deadpool's chest as you stepped to the side, look straight ahead noticing something in the distance.

"I smell a quest!"

"I smell food,"

This caused both men to look at what you were looking at.

A little restaurant not to far from here.

Logan was turning the place upside, you were unsure what he was looking for as he'd already found you guys some unopened spam to eat.

Deadpool finally had his mask off and you noticed what he looked like without it, you couldn't help but feel bad for him, even with the way he is, something tragic must have happened for his face to be all scarred the way it was.

"So what made you finally wear an honest to God costume?" He asked in between bites, "Mines red so they can't see me bleed." This time he turned to you and gave you a strange smile as he took yet another bite. "I can see how yellow can be useful too!"

Logan turned around and stared him down, "Have you been checked for ADHD?"

"Nu uh," Deadpool answered, mouth full with a big smile.

"You should," This time you answered as you finally tried the spam, it wasn't too bad for God knows how old it could've been.

You could hear a chuckle come from Logan as he continued his search.

"Though I've had several STD's, probably caused by ADHD" Deadpool told you guys.

You just rolled your eyes at him, wondering where he gets these ideas from. You guys both sat there longer watching Logan. Deadpool sat on one side of the booth, you sat on the edge of the table a bit, and Logan was still searching.

"What are you even looking for?" You asked the bigger man, curious what was making him more frustrated then the red masked fellow next to you.

All you heard was a mumble before you saw him grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"No no no no no, that's rubbing alcohol, you don't want to-" Before he could even finish his sentence Logan had already chugged most of it down, you turned a bit to him and sat yourself next to Deadpool watching Logan come towards the table, "Oh yup there you go, there you go, fuck that liver."

"Don't come to me when you need a liver transplant," Deadpool gave an amused snuff at your comment and turned back to the big fellow.

"What the fuck are those?" Logan was looking at, staples in Deadpool's head? You turned to look at it and you stared a little too hard that you could see the little strands of most likely fake hair pinched in between it.

"Oh, back in civilian life I wore a toupee, but nobody knows," Deadpool gave a little smile as he looked at you guys, touching his phantom hair.

Both you and Logan began to laugh a little at this, "They fucking know" you told him.

Logan joined in on the teasing, "Everybody knows," Logan gave you a smile, being glad someone else is there to help him tease the annoying red suited vigilante.

"Wanna talk about what's haunting you, or are we gonna wait for a third act flashback?"

"Ughh go fuck yourself," this was all it took for Logan to go back to the bar stools as he sat there, drinking his rubbing alcohol.

You gave Deadpool and annoyed look at elbowed him a bit, trying to get him to lay off the man a bit; it seemed to get through to him, as he rolled his eyes and began to talk again, "In my world, you're uh, well regarded."

"Not in mine," Logan didn't look back, he just took another sip.

"Well they don't like me much in my world," Deadpool said trying to lighten the mood.

"We couldn't tell.." You told him, as you stood up and threw away your empty spam cup.

"I wanted to be something, you know? Shit, I wanted to be an Avenger!"

"Fuck the Avengers,"

"I didn't make the cut though, same with the X-men," Deadpool paused, picking his next words wisely. "My girlfriend left me,"

"You had a girlfriend?" Logan asked, with genuine curiosity.

"Yea, Vanessa, when we met she was a dancer, made a whole life, it was good, but oh boy I just, uh"

You stood by the trash, leaning against the wall, not wanting to intrude on their moment.

"But fuck, you were an X-men, fuck that you were the X-man. You, uh the Wolverine, you were a hero in my world."

"Yea well, he ain't shit in mine." Logan finished his drink, if that's what you could even call it.

Deadpool turned to you, as if asking you to say something too. You let out a bit of a sigh before speaking.

"You saved me in my world."

Logan turned his head a little bit, and Deadpool gave you a somber look, unlike his normal self.

"I was in an accident, but I saw this man with metal claws, he helped me, he got me out." You closed your eyes and breathed.

"It inspired me to become who I am today, every Wolverine, is a hero in every universe, no matter what." You looked up at the both of them, "Well it's what I think at least. I didn't recognize you at first, but when I heard your name, I knew who you were, even if you aren't from my universe."

Logan looked back down at his empty hands, he began to think. The silence was killing you. Deadpool could tell and so he went back to his normal demeanor. "Alright sugar tits," Deadpool looks at Logan, "Time to go!"

It was time to continue your adventure in finding the people who would help you escape this place.

[jyoongim]

I loooooved your alastor x reader morning after post! Could you do another soft smut? Like passionate *love making* after a night out sort of thing?

Note: bit more of a fluffy smut.

Themes: established relationship, drinking, kissing, self-masturabtion, soft smut, very lovely dovey

The sound of slow sensual jazz played in the background as you swayed against Alastor. The drinks you had drunk filled your head with a buzzing as he twirled you around. He dipped you, bringing you back up and you wrapped your arms around him, head against his chest. 

The two of you swayed on the dance floor, enjoying the ambiance of the lounge.

Oh how you loved nights like this. It was rare that the two of you had time to yourselves. The night had been filled with flirty banter, jokes, drinks, and dancing.

What a time!

You sighed happily, giggling as Alastor pressed soft kisses to your glossy lips. “How bout a nightcap ma cherie?” he suggested, voice low and soft.

You waved to Mimzy, who sent you a wink, as the two of you left the lounge.

The hotel was dark and quiet, everyone having gone to bed.

You hummed as you kicked your heels off and began taking your jewelry off. You tousled your curls, happy to have the pins out and hair finally down.

Alastor had removed his coat and bow tie, unbuttoned his dress shirt as he took a seat at the little table that was in your shared room. A bottle of whiskey appeared along with two glasses.

As you approached him, he pulled you into his lap, pouring the two of you a drink as some soft tunes played on his radio.

”Oh Alastor, I truly had a good time. Its been a while since we were able to cut a rug like that” you said sipping your drink as he curled an arm around your waist.

He hummed, downing his drink “I would have to agree my dear. Truly was an amazing night. You still got it.”

The warmth Alastor gave off and liquor had you purring as you relaxed into him.

You drank until half the bottle was empty.

Your body buzzed as you listened to him talk about the night.

Your head nuzzled into his shoulder, sighing content.

Alastor ran his nose along the column of your neck, peppering kisses from your shoulder to ear, sharp teeth softly nipping at the lobe, tugging at it.

”Alastor…” you turned in his lap, legs spreading on either side of him, your dress bunching at your hips. Big hands gripped your hips as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a sultry kiss.

Your tongues danced as you slowly began to grind against him.

You mewled as you felt hands trail up your thighs and paw at your stockings.

You opted to trail kisses along his neck as his hips pressed up into yours.

Alastor purred “Let’s get a bit more comfortable shall we?”

Slipping from his lap, you began to undress. You shimmied out your dress, giggling as Alastor’s hands pulled your garter and stockings, kissing your thighs and ankles as your legs slipped out of the sheer material.

You tugged him by the pant loops to the bed as he shrugged his shirt off.

Your hands greedily roamed his exposed skin as he unbuckled his pants.

Your lips found his, pulling him down on top of you as you laid on the bed.

Your legs settled around his waist as y’all engaged in a passionate make out session.

You panted in his mouth as you felt his thumb rub on your clothed mound. Your thin panties doing little to hide your growing wetness.

”aah Alastor please” you begged as he pressed tight circles on your puffy clit.

”such a pretty thing you are” he gruffly said, pulling your panties down your thighs.

Your cheeks were red as he sat back on his haunches to take you in.

Disheveled, cheeks red from drinking, lips swollen from kissing, chest rising as you took deep breaths.

You truly were a beauty.

“What do my pretty baby want?” He asked, head tilting as a playful smile stretched across his face at your pout.

You slowly bumped your foot against his crotch, softly nudging the heavy weight that was restrained.

”You…Alastor i want you” you whined, hoping he wouldn’t tease you.

He slithered to your side, one hand cradling your head to look at him, the other palming a tit.

He pressed a kiss to the chub of your hot cheek, purring into your ear “Then show me how much you want me”

Your hand slowly trailed down your body, finding your hot heat.

Your eyes closed as your fingers coated into contact with your throbbing clit.

A gentle pinch had you open your eyes to see red irises staring at you intensely “Ah Ah keep those eyes on me mon cheri”

A whimper left your throat as you softly rubbed at your clit, electric shocks running through you.

You plunged two fingers into you, coating them in your slick.

You switched between fingering yourself and rubbing at your clit.Your back arched into Alastor, who began rolling a nipple between his fingers, pinching and tugging as you moaned.

”ooohh fuck please please” your hips jerked as you felt your orgasm bubbling.

You never had Alastor watch you as you brought yourself to orgasm.

A tug of your nipple as you worked your clit sent you over the edge.

Your throaty moan was swallowed as Alastor clashed his lips to yours. Hand that was toying with your nipple quickly at your clit, flicking away as you grinded your hips to his fingers, riding out your release.

You panted as he chuckled at you,  body spent and relaxing after your orgasm eased.

His cock was now tight in his pants as he watch you come down from your blissful high.

”That’s a good girl” he kissed your forehead as he situated himself above you. Pulling his dick free, he slide it along your sticky slit, coating him.

“Al…” you trailed off looking at him with lidded eyes as he slide inside you.

He let out a soft grunt as he eased inside you, burying his cock til his balls were flushed against your ass.

If he thought you were beautiful coming apart, you thought alastor looked his best when he was displaying more tender emotions.

His body lowered onto yours, covering your small frame as he softly thrusted into you.

”I love you” you said breathlessly as he rocked his hips into yours.

Usually sex with Alastor was rough, which you couldn’t complain about, but there was something about him being so soft that always made the activity a lot more enjoyable than usual.

He was extra attentive, muttering sweet nothings as he made you cry out in ecstasy.

Alastor smiled at your conviction and curled a finger under your chin to pull you into a soft kiss.

Your ankles interlocked around his hips as you moaned into the kiss. He tasted like the whiskey you had been drinking. Your claws dug into his shoulders as he whispered against your lips 

“Let me show you my love” he thrusted up into you as he sucked at your neck.

The room was filled with your soft moans and his heavy grunts as you spent the night reassuring each other of your love.

Alastor mindlessly rubbed your back as you snored into his chest. He pressed a kiss to your hair as he watched you snuggle into him, a content smile on your face.

Oh how he loved you. He might not always say it but he always knew how to show you that his love was always there.

[astrxq]

hey hey! i was wondering if i could request a jace x reader! it could be a modern au! along the lines of childhood friends to lovers?! and jace gets jealous of reader going on a date with someone else and he tries to like convince her to stay in for the night and he just ends up confessing abt him liking her and then maybe a bit of smut! only if ur comfortable of course :)

Dates and Apple Pie

modern!jacaerys x fem!reader

words: 4.4k

notes: not sure if i like this or hate it 😭 but i hope you enjoy!!

The gentle autumn breeze rustled through your hair as you made your way down the familiar street. You had walked this path countless times before, but that day felt different. Your heart beat a little faster, your palms were slightly clammy as you approached the cozy two-story house at the end of the block.

You had known Jace for as long as you could remember. Childhood friends turned inseparable companions, you had shared countless memories within those walls.

Before you could knock, the door swung open, revealing Jace's familiar grin. His hazel eyes lit up at the sight of you, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

"There you are," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "I was starting to think you had gotten lost on the way to a house you've been coming to for, oh, I don't know, the past fifteen years?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Ha ha, very funny. Are you going to let me in, or should I make myself comfortable on the porch?"

Jace stepped aside with an exaggerated bow. "Mi casa es su casa, as always."

As you stepped inside, the scent of cinnamon and apples enveloped you. The house felt like a second home, filled with memories and the promise of more to come. You followed Jace into the kitchen, where a freshly baked apple pie sat cooling on the counter.

"Did you... bake?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in amused disbelief.

Jace clutched his chest in mock offense. "Your lack of faith wounds me deeply. I'll have you know I am a man of many talents."

"Uh-huh," you teased, "and how many YouTube tutorials did it take?"

His laughter filled the room, a sound that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. "Only three, thank you very much."

As Jace's laughter faded, a comfortable silence settled between you. You had always appreciated these moments, where words weren't necessary to fill the space. Your eyes met, and for a split second, you swore you saw something flicker in his gaze—something more than just friendship. But before you could dwell on it, he cleared his throat and turned to the pie.

"So, shall we test my culinary masterpiece?" Jace asked, reaching for plates. "I promise I won't be offended if you spit it out. Much."

You chuckled, leaning against the counter. "I think I can manage to choke down a slice for the sake of our friendship."

As Jace served the pie, you couldn't help but notice the careful precision in his movements, the way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. It was endearing, really, how much effort he had put into this.

"Here you go," he said, presenting you with a generous slice. "Prepare to have your taste buds dazzled.”

He sat in silence, his plate still untouched as he waited for your approval. Hands under his chin, and a funny look on his face. With a smile, you take a small, careful bite, letting the flavors unfold on your tongue. It's surprisingly good—sweet, with just the right hint of cinnamon and a flaky crust that melts in your mouth.

"It’s actually really good, Jace," you murmur appreciatively, nodding in approval as you meet his eyes. His face lit up, and once you were two spoonfuls in, he ate his own. 

“I told you. Man of many talents,” he pointed to himself.

You couldn't help but laugh at Jace's playful boastfulness, the warmth of the moment sinking deeper into your bones. His confidence was infectious, and you found yourself enjoying not just the pie, but the simple pleasure of being together.

"You should consider making this a regular thing," you suggested, teasingly nudging his shoulder. "I could get used to having homemade apple pie on demand."

Jace grinned, a twinkle in his eye. "If that's what it takes to keep you coming back, I might just have to brush up on my baking skills."

There's something in his tone that makes your chest tighten, but before you can dwell on it, he's already moving on, pulling the plates from the table and moving them to the sink.

"So," he says, his back to you as he serves generous slices of pie, "any exciting plans for the weekend?"

You hesitate, suddenly feeling inexplicably nervous. "Actually, yeah. I, uh... I have a date."

Jace's movements pause for a moment at your words, though he tries to maintain his casual demeanor. He sets the plates down carefully, his back still turned to you, but you catch a subtle shift in his posture – an almost imperceptible tension.

"Oh? You didn’t say," he replies, his voice carefully neutral. "Anyone I know?"

You shook your head, “Uh, no one you know,” you finally replied, forcing a casual tone that you didn’t quite feel right. “Just someone I met recently. A friend of a friend.”

He didn’t say anything, nodding his head, his back still turned to you. “His name’s Alex.” you started again, needing to hear him say something, anything, about your date. 

When Alex asked you out, your mind immediately rushed to thoughts of Jace. There were moments with Jace where you wondered if there could be something more between you two, but you had always brushed those thoughts aside, convinced that your friendship with Jace was too precious to risk. Yet, as you stood in his kitchen, the comfortable silence between you suddenly felt charged with unspoken questions and possibilities.

So, you had waited a few days, hoping for clarity. Hoping to see any sign that Jace felt the same way as you did, wishing for it to go further than just two friends who see each other all the time. But days passed without a clear sign from Jace, leaving you grappling with conflicting emotions. Each time you saw him, you found yourself searching his expressions, analyzing every word, hoping for a hint of reciprocation. 

Yet, Jace remained his usual self, kindhearted and flirty, like he’d always been. Finally, you agreed to the date, mainly because of your mutual friend insisting that you’d be an amazing fit together, and partly because you needed to clear your head from Jace – the seemingly unrequited feelings choking you every time Jace held your hand or made a flirty joke.

A pang of jealousy crept into Jace’s heart when you uttered those words, catching him off guard. He had always cherished your companionship, relishing the moments spent together baking pies or simply sharing comfortable silences. However, the idea of someone else vying for your attention stirred unfamiliar emotions within him.

As he turned to face you, Jace struggled to maintain his usual easy demeanor. His hazel eyes, normally warm and inviting, now flickered with a hint of vulnerability masked by a forced smile. Inside, his thoughts raced, conflicting emotions swirling like a storm.

Alex… The name echoed in his mind, an unwelcome intruder in the sanctuary of your longstanding friendship. Jace couldn’t deny the sting of jealousy gnawing at him, mixed with a tinge of regret for not voicing his feelings sooner. He had grown so accustomed to your presence, your laughter, your quirks that made every day brighter. Now, the thought of someone else potentially claiming a piece of your heart unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

The intensity of these conflicting emotions tightened his chest, making it hard to breathe as he struggled to find the right words.

"Alex," he repeats, his voice softer than before. He hummed, "That's... that's nice."

Deep down, Jace knew he had missed his chance to tell you how much you meant to him, fearing it would jeopardize the precious friendship you shared. Now, faced with the reality of potentially losing you to someone else, he couldn’t help but wonder what could have been if he had spoken up sooner.

All of the hopes he’d built up ever since he’d started to notice his feelings had immediately crumbled because of Saturday’s dinner. Well, and Alex.

Jace cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Well, Alex better not disappoint. I won't have you trading apple pie for subpar desserts," he quipped, a hint of his usual playful tone returning to ease the tension in the room.

You chuckled softly, grateful for the familiar banter that lightened the mood. "Don't worry, I'll keep you posted on the dessert quality. It's a crucial aspect of any potential relationship, after all."

Jace nodded, managing a small smile. "Absolutely. Can't have you settling for anything less than the best."

As Jace finished rinsing the plates, he turned to face you, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "So, where are you and Alex going?"

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just dinner and a movie, nothing too fancy."

Jace nodded, the tightness in his chest easing just a little at the mention of the simple plan. He knew he should be happy for you, encouraging you to explore new connections, but the idea of you with someone else gnawed at him. He had grown so used to having you by his side, the thought of change was unsettling.

"You'll have to tell me all about it," He said, taking the seat next to you, like before. "And don't worry, I’ll be here with more pie if the date doesn't go as planned."

You laughed, feeling the warmth from Jace’s body next to yours creep up to your chest, heaving as your heartbeat sped up. Deep inside, you knew the date was just an attempt to escape from your feelings, but, as you sat there, watching the play of emotions across Jace's face, you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his reaction than he was letting on. The usual warmth in his eyes had been replaced by a flicker of something else – something you couldn't quite place.

You had always been attuned to Jace's moods, able to read him like an open book, but in this moment, he seemed to be guarding his thoughts, carefully constructing a facade of nonchalance.

You had convinced yourself that the occasional flutters in your chest were nothing more than your own imagination, a product of your own hopeful desires.

Yet, as you sat there, watching the subtle play of emotions on his face, a glimmer of hope began to stir within you. Could it be possible that Jace had harbored feelings for you as well? 

You quickly shook that thought away from your brain. It was dangerous to let yourself hope, especially now when you were about to go on a date with someone else. But as you sat there, so close to Jace that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, you couldn't help but wonder.

"Hey," Jace's voice broke through your reverie, soft and tinged with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "You okay?"

You blinked, realizing you had been staring at him. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking about the date, I guess."

Jace nodded, his eyes searching yours. "Nervous?"

"A little," you admitted, surprised by your own honesty. "It's been a while since I've been on a proper date."

Jace's expression softened, and he reached out, placing his hand on yours. The gesture was familiar, comforting, but this time it sent a jolt of electricity through your body. "You'll be great," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Anyone would be lucky to go on a date with you."

For a moment, you could have sworn you saw a flicker of regret in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly you wondered if you had imagined it. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. 

A charged silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken words and possibilities. Jace's hand lingered on yours, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. The simple touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself wishing you could freeze this moment in time.

But reality intruded, as it always did. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, breaking the spell. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away to check it. "It's Alex," you said, your voice sounding strange to your own ears. "Confirming plans for tomorrow."

Jace nodded, his hand falling back to his side. "Right, of course." He stood up abruptly, moving to the sink to rinse out your empty glasses.

You watched his back, noting the tension in his shoulders. A beat of silence passed.

Jace turned back from the sink, his usual easy smile not quite reaching his eyes. "So, uh, want to watch a movie or something? Unless you need to head out soon..."

You glanced at your phone, then back at Jace. The thought of leaving now, with this strange tension between you, felt wrong. "No, I don't have to go yet. A movie sounds great."

Relief flickered across Jace's face. "Cool. You pick.”

As you made your way to the living room, Jace grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch. "Here," he said, draping it over your shoulders. "You always get cold during movies."

The gesture was so thoughtful, so typically Jace, that it made your heart ache a little. You settled onto the couch, and after a moment's hesitation, Jace sat down next to you, closer than usual but still maintaining a small gap.

You scrolled through the movie options, finally settling on one you both enjoyed. As the opening credits rolled, you found yourself hyper-aware of Jace's presence beside you. The warmth of his body, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his arm brushed against yours when he shifted position – it all felt amplified somehow.

About halfway through the movie, you noticed Jace stifling a yawn. Without thinking, you lifted the edge of the blanket. "There's plenty of room to share."

Jace hesitated for a moment before scooting closer, allowing you to drape the blanket over both of you. Now your sides were pressed together, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

As the movie played on, you found it harder and harder to focus on the plot. Your mind kept drifting to the man beside you, to the what-ifs and maybes that had been swirling in your head all day.

Your chest felt heavy as you felt Jace turn his face to look at you, a small frown creeping to his lips, quickly changed to a grin once you turned to him. Jace's eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. He leaned in slightly, then seemed to catch himself, pulling back and clearing his throat.

"We, uh, we should probably finish the movie," he said, his voice slightly husky.

You nodded, humming, not trusting yourself to speak. 

The rest of the movie passed in a blur, your mind replaying that moment over and over. When the credits finally rolled, neither of you moved to turn off the TV, both seemingly reluctant for the evening to end.

Finally, Jace broke the silence. "So, um, good movie, right?"

You nodded, turning to face him. "Yeah, it was fun."

"It was," Jace replied, his eyes meeting yours. He’d simply agreed, not having paid a single ounce of attention to the screen the whole time. There was so much left unsaid in that gaze, so many words hovering on the tip of your tongue.

But the moment passed, and you knew it was time to leave. As you stood up, gathering your things, Jace walked you to the door.

At the threshold, you turned back to him. "Jace, I..."

He looked at you expectantly, a mixture of hope and apprehension in his eyes. But the words wouldn't come. “Nevermind,”

Jace placed a hang on your arm, fingers lightly gracing it, lingering, as if he was scared to break you. "Text me when you get home safe, okay?"

You nodded, offering him a small smile. "I will. Goodnight, Jace."

"Goodnight," he replied softly.

You stepped out into the cool night air, the door clicking shut behind you. The familiar street stretched out before you, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. As you began your walk home, your mind swirled with thoughts and emotions, each step amplifying the confusion that had settled over your heart. Eventually, sleep eluded you.

The next evening, you found yourself standing on Jace's porch once again, your hand hovering over the doorbell. You were dressed for your date with Alex, but something had compelled you to come here first. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe it was the lingering tension from yesterday that you couldn't shake.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed the bell. A few moments later, Jace opened the door, surprise evident on his face.

"Hey," he said, his eyes taking in your outfit. "Wow, you look... amazing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Thanks. I, um, I'm not really sure why I'm here. I guess I'm just nervous about the date and... I don't know, I wanted to see you first."

Jace's expression softened, and he stepped aside to let you in. "Come on in. We've got some time to calm those nerves before your big night."

As you followed him into the living room, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes kept darting to you, a mix of admiration and something else you couldn't quite place in his gaze.

"So," Jace said, settling onto the couch and patting the spot next to him, "what's got you so nervous? It's just dinner and a movie, right?"

You sat down, careful not to wrinkle your dress. "I know, it's silly. I just... it's been a while since I've done this whole dating thing. And Alex seems nice, but..."

"But?" Jace prompted gently when you trailed off. His heart jumped at his throat, bubbling with hopes.

You sighed, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know. I guess I'm worried that I'm not giving him a fair chance. That I'm comparing him to... to someone else before I've even given him a shot."

Jace's breath caught, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged with unspoken possibilities. "Someone else?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding. This was it – the moment of truth. "Jace…" you started.

But before you could finish, your phone buzzed loudly, making you both turn to it. It was a text from Alex, saying he was on his way to pick you up.

The spell broke, you stood up abruptly. "I should go. Alex will be here soon, and I don't want to keep him waiting."

Jace nodded, standing as well. "Right, of course." He walked you to the door, his hand hovering near the small of your back but not quite touching. 

At the threshold, you turned to face Jace once more. The words you'd been about to say moments ago still hung in the air between you, unspoken but nearly tangible. Jace's hazel eyes searched yours, a mix of hope and resignation swirling in their depths. 

He furrowed his brows, and you really focused on his face. He looked worried, a sad look to his eyes that you’d seen very few times before. Jace’s breathing seemed to get caught in his throat, “Don’t go,” he mumbled.

You stood frozen at the threshold, Jace's soft plea echoing in your ears. "Don't go." The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning and possibility. Your heart raced as you looked into Jace's hazel eyes, seeing a mix of vulnerability and hope that you'd never witnessed before.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. All the unspoken feelings, the lingering touches, the stolen glances – everything came rushing to the surface. You realized that this was the moment you'd been waiting for, the clarity you'd been seeking.

“What?”

Jace took a deep breath, his expression a mixture of determination and apprehension. "I mean, don't go on the date. Stay here. With me."

Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sank in. It felt like a dream, one you'd dared not hope for, and now here it was, laid bare before you.

Jace stood before you, his hazel eyes searching yours with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. His words hung in the air, urging you to make a choice. Stay here, with him, and confront the unspoken feelings that had lingered between you for so long – or leave, and go on a date with Alex, a safe choice but one that wouldn't resolve the tension that had built up between you and Jace.

For a moment, you felt torn. Your mind raced with questions – what if things didn't work out with Jace? What if risking your friendship ruined everything? – But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. The years of unspoken words, the shared moments that had bound you together, all seemed to converge in this pivotal moment.

Taking a deep breath, you made your decision. You reached out, gently placing your hand on Jace's. "I... I want to stay," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "With you."

Relief washed over Jace's face, a smile breaking through the tension that had gripped him moments before. Without a word, he pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch, the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Before another word could be spoken, your phone buzzed again, this time more insistently. It was another message from Alex, likely wondering where you were.

With a sigh, you glanced at the message, then back at Jace. "I should probably let him know."

Jace nodded, his jaw tightening briefly. "Yeah, you should."

As you hit send, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, knowing that you were finally free to explore what had been silently growing between you and Jace for so long.

Turning back to Jace, you found him watching you with a mix of anticipation and affection. “I feel bad,” you admitted, “He was probably already waiting on me.”

He shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. He didn't wait long.”

“I’m practically standing him up,”

He frowned, “Do you still want to go?”

“No.”

“Then don’t stress yourself out about it.” He took a small strand of your hair into his hand, twisting it around in his fingers. 

You hesitated for a moment before you nodded, "Yeah. No stress."

You brushed your phone away, focusing on him. His warm fingertips brushed against your lips, cutting short your thoughts. He gaze locked onto Jace's. Feelings of uncertainty mingled with excitement as you stood on Jace's porch, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes held yours with an intensity that spoke volumes, words unnecessary between you now.

"I'm glad you're staying," Jace murmured, his voice barely audible over the soft evening breeze.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of the moment. "Me too," you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly.

Without breaking eye contact, Jace gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your bottom lip. “Come inside,” he almost whispered, his tone dropping lower. 

As Jace's fingers brushed against your lips, a surge of electricity shot through you, sending your heart into a frantic rhythm. His touch was tender, filled with unspoken desire and a longing that mirrored your own. You gazed into his eyes, seeing the depths of emotion swirling within them.

With a shared understanding, you nodded softly, “Okay.”

The anticipation was palpable, your breaths mingling in the cool air. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Jace closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss.

It was soft yet intense, a fusion of years of unspoken feelings finally breaking free. Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. Jace responded eagerly, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

The warmth of Jace's body against yours, the taste of his lips against yours, it all felt so right, so natural.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads resting against each other, you both were breathless. Jace's hands remained on your cheeks, his thumbs softly caressing your skin as he gazed at you with adoration.

He took a step back, the arm around your waist pulling you inside the house with him. Once the door was closed, his mouth moved to your neck.

Your mind raced, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Jace's touch ignited a fire within you, his lips trailing along your neck as he led you inside. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, every sensation heightened by the realization that this was no longer just friendship – iit was something deeper, something you had both yearned for but never dared to voice until now.

In the dim light of his living room, Jace's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding as you felt his warmth seep into you, filling the spaces you never knew were empty.

Without a word, Jace captured your lips in another kiss, his movements gentle yet urgent, a silent plea for everything you both had kept hidden for so long. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with a passion born from years of unspoken longing.

Time seemed to stand still as you explored each other's lips, each touch a revelation, each breath shared between kisses, a lingering of the unspoken bond that had always been between you. The weight of uncertainty and missed opportunities lifted off your shoulders, replaced by the certainty that this was where you were meant to be right at that instant.

When you finally parted, both breathless and dazed, Jace rested his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. His gaze searched for yours, a silent question lingering between you, answered by the shared understanding in your eyes.

"I've wanted this for so long," Jace murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath mingling with yours.

You nodded, unable to find words but conveying everything through the touch of your lips against his, the warmth of your embrace, and the unspoken promise of what was to come.

[justporo]

The whisky neat and the strawberries sweet

“Then make me, my love,” Astarion answered, not missing a beat. “Come and get it,” he finished and slowly placed the last strawberry between his lips, grinning. His fangs were bared, contrasting against the deep red of the last piece of fruit.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Let's try again shall we? Tumblr ate this the first time. I listened to "Too Sweet" by Hozier too often and it caused this. What was only supposed to be a drabble turned into a whole thing... I hope you enjoy! With a wonderful gifted artwork by @nathaira-draws (please follow them!)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with feelings, blood drinking, vaginal sex, creampie, foodplay, aftercare Wordcount: 4,7k Song: Too Sweet - Hozier

~~~

You didn't really know how you always ended up in positions like this one.

But by all the gods, you for sure didn't mind that you did.

Comfortable. You were comfortable in the way you sat on Astarion's lap, straddling him, clad in nothing but a sheer nightgown. The fabric huddled along your body, leaving very little to the imagination. From the clearly visible stiff peaks of your breasts it flowed down in soft lines to where it cascaded into a bunched up mess around your eagerly and widely spread legs.

Astarion in his usual camp outfit, albeit with his shirt possibly open wider than usual, was much more clothed still. But he surely seemed comfortable too.

And if his promising smirk and playfully raised eyebrow as he looked at you wasn't proof enough? Then maybe the way he was pleasantly, almost achingly hard and pressed directly against your heated, throbbing core between your legs was.

And yet you weren't even primarily engaging In anything overtly lewd, at least this far. The two of you were simply talking. Astarion was having a glass of neat whisky while you were indulging in a bowl of perfectly sweet strawberries.

You talked about every- and anything, whatever came to each of your minds. While Astarion kept sipping on the liquor out of his fancy crystal glass and you popped deliciously sweet fruit into your mouth.

Or, occasionally bucking your hips to get a little rise out of the other - a gasp, a groan, a telltale involuntary twitch - or a bottom lip caught on a fang with crimson eyes shortly rolling back into the skull and then a blissful smile.

The two of you played that little game. Trying to get the better of the other, all while trying to maintain a somewhat civil conversation.

As civil as any conversation could be when your slick cunt was pressed against your vampire’s dick. And you could barely keep yourself from rubbing yourself against him until you would either see stars explode before your eyes - or Astarion would remember he was a predator after all.

Either end was equally titillating in your eyes.

This little back and forth went on until you eventually proverbially poked the vampire a little too hard. You ground yourself against him as he was just answering a question you had asked him a moment ago, about what his favourite places around Baldur’s Gate were. The snap of your hips was so forceful, your by now obscenely slick core rubbed against Astarion’s hardened length in an almost painful way. You made yourself moan from the friction rolling through you, coiling in your stomach.

The vampire groaned loudly, almost a growl and mid-word, head falling back. He grabbed the wooden armrest with the hand not currently holding liquor filled crystal, until his knuckles showed white even through his already pale skin. It was almost a wonder the wood didn’t crack.

His length throbbed violently. Your clit eagerly echoed it.

You bit your lip as you focused on the feeling, a lewd, wishful sigh left you. The tension was oh so delicious.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Astarion almost hissed at you, a bit breathless. His head had snapped back, staring at you from deep under his drawn together brows.  “Because if you are, you are not being very subtle about it, love.”

His tone was slightly angry and a little high-pitched. He was immediately trying to walk it off but you had obviously irked him. But he was merely teasing you. You saw the way the corners of his mouth twitched unwillingly as he took another swig of whisky. And if his attempts at deflections wouldn’t have told you the truth, something else you clearly felt yearning for more of that friction, would have surely done the trick.

You grinned at him with fiendish delight as Astarion tried to somewhat awkwardly rearrange himself in his seat. But with you pressing yourself against him he hadn’t really any room to wriggle.

His ruby eyes narrowed at you as your grin grew broader. Oh, how you enjoyed being on top of things for once - quite literally so.

“Also it is very rude to interrupt someone like thi-” Astarion tried to utter in an offended tone. But interrupted himself once more with a groan when you rolled your hips against him once more. Even more forceful than before.

Astarion’s moan almost became a whimper this time. Long slender fingers darted over and now gripped onto your naked thigh. Not pulling you closer - for now - but also definitely not pushing you off. Astarion’s cock helplessly and desperately jerked from the friction where it was nestled between your legs.

It was a piece of work to keep yourself from huffing and moaning as you were continuously trying to push Astarion into the deep end without being dragged under as well.

The vampire’s head lolled back again for a moment. Then it rolled back around, his expression a challenge now. The vampire licked over his lips lasciviously: eyes glittering like garnets and fangs shining like ivory as he observed you. Precious in any kind of way.

Playtime was over now. Time to face the consequences.

“You vicious little vixen,” Astarion whispered, fingers digging into your flesh until the twinge of it had you throw your head back this time and gasp. The way your back thereby arched drew your vampire’s attention to the way your breasts were now perfectly presented to him. To either behold them like a connoisseur would an impactful piece of art or to devour them like a doomed man would his last meal.

The pale elf’s equally pale eyebrow twitched - as did your clit still drawing pleasure from his fingertips almost clawing into your thigh. If only… a little more…

Quick flicks of the vampire’s skilled tongue over the sensitive buds at the crest of your breasts made either of them perk up even more. Until your nightgown was dangling off them even more, creating soft lines draping down, surely drawing the observer’s eye to them and your now heaving breasts, heavy from lust.

Your hands immediately went to cup Astarion’s head, cradling it as his tongue swirled around the tip of your tits, not even bothered by the thin fabric between you and him. The way your hips started moving came naturally. Just like how you bowed your back even more for your lover. You closed your eyes, easily getting lost in the sensation.

Then, suddenly, sharp teeth dug into your breast, lips shortly closing down around the hardened nipple.

“Oww,” you yelped and immediately resorted to slapping Astarion’s arm in response, pushing him away. Your head snapped back to stare at him.

The vampire just laughed haughtily as he withdrew again, leaning back. He licked just a drop of blood of his lips as he did so.

When you looked down your own body you saw twin pricks that had pierced through the translucent fabric. And beneath it a tiny trickle of blood running down your chest.

In your moment of inattentiveness Astarion had shifted slightly in his seat: now sitting with his legs spread even further, the bulge between them so painfully obvious and palpable for either of you. He was leaning back, arms draped over the backrest. In one hand he was still holding the whisky glass and idly swirling it around while holding it by its rim.

By default your legs were also spread even further now, making it hard to move. And suddenly you were the one feeling a little caught. Good for you, you had found quite the pleasure in being caught by the vampire time and again.

Although that certainly didn’t stop you from leaning forward as much as possible and catching the pale elf’s chin between your fingers, trying to stare him down.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to bite someone without asking?”

Astarion pouted. “Can you really blame me for not being able to resist, darling? It was… low hanging fruit after all,” he mused with a grin.

Your eyes narrowed - considering if you should be insulted by that or not.

Astarion eyed the lonely drop of blood he left behind slowly rounding the curve of your boobs. He angled his head observing its journey. A single strand of white hair fell into the vampire’s face as he was entranced - by your tits and the trickle of your fine red alike. 

Lost in thought and the view he lifted the crystal to his lips again. As if unconsciously trying to substitute for what he obviously craved much more than liquor right this moment.

The whisky would have to do.

But before he could take a sip, your fingers wrapped around his and wrung the glass out of them. Inattentiveness really made either of you prone to be taken advantage of. But not to either of your damage.

Before Astarion could protest you took a generous swig of his liquor and slightly shuddered as it burned down your throat. You licked your lips with a grin as you felt the burn leave behind a delicious warmth.

The pale elf’s mouth fell open slightly, eyebrows jumping up. His eyes darkened and twinkled at you as if asking you how you even dared and simultaneously promising you he’d get you back for that one - in that kind of way that would leave you desperately begging for more.

It made your lower body clench as another kind of heat washed through your body. Adding to the throbbing sensation between your legs, lashing it on.

And yet the most you had done was sit there.

Closing your eyes, you tried to regain just a fraction of composure. You had been doing so good in your little game of teasing. How did this godsdamned vampire hold that much power over you that he almost broke you with barely more than a glance?

Astarion in the meantime smiled in content as he took note of how you had to consciously concentrate to keep your wits about you. And also he had located the rest of your strawberries still sitting in the bowl on a small table next to the chair you were both wrapped up on.

Your head snapped back as you felt the vampire’s weight slightly shift below you. With his roguishly quick reflexes you only just saw how your lover had started chewing something. Then he was popping another strawberry into his mouth. And another-

“Hey,” you wailed at him as your eyes darted to the little bowl that was now almost yawningly empty. “Hey stop, that’s the last one!” you continued, grabbing for Astarion’s wrist with your free hand as he was about to devour the last piece of your sweet treat.

“Then make me, my love,” Astarion answered, not missing a beat. “Come and get it,” he finished and slowly placed the last strawberry between his lips, grinning. His fangs were bared, contrasting against the deep red of the last piece of fruit.

His hands wandered to either of your thighs, pushing into them and pulling you closer to him at the same time, spreading your legs even more for him. With your hand not holding the crystal glass you grabbed for his shoulder to try and keep your balance.

Lightning jolts shot through your body at the sight of your lover. Finding their target in between your legs. Making you involuntarily rub yourself against Astarion’s hard dick again, still comfortably pressed there. Trying to keep the electric energy going. Hoping to turn it into a constant current.

Heat was pooling everywhere in your body now at the promise Astarion’s eyes made you.

He didn’t need to be able to speak to lure you to him. Astarion leaned in a little closer, the delicate lines around his mouth deepening when his smile grew predatory. And you leaned to him, your cheeks and whole body flushed, keen to accept what he offered: the lamb willingly falling for the wolf.

But then an idea flashed through you. Acting quickly, so you wouldn’t second guess yourself, you took a small sip of whisky, keeping it in your mouth.

The vampire’s eyes sparked at you, immediately catching onto your plan. A small strained gasp worked its way around the strawberry still in between his teeth to get past his lips. The fangs dug into the flesh of the fruit ever so slightly at the strained sound. And at your core you felt his dick twitch once more.

You were both in for a treat.

With a chuckle and the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one holding power you leaned in to kiss your vampire. You slowly wrapped your mouth around the strawberry, lips brushing Astarion’s like a feather in passing - all while your gaze burned into his.

The fruit was crushed between your mouths in an instance. Its red, wet juice ran over both your chins, leaving trails that almost looked like freshly spilled blood. The flesh of the sweet treat was quickly torn and devoured between pointy fangs and more sharp teeth as your mouths worked impatiently to get around it. To get to each other - to the real treat.

The whisky had immediately spilled over your lips, down your chin. Only a few drops had actually made it to Astarion’s lips. But it was enough. The rest he could easily taste directly on your lips and tongue, in your mouth. His tongue made sure to get every last bit of it as it slipped between your lips.

The vampire tensed beneath you, his length somehow hardening more, as you melted into him while kissing him; moulding yourself to him as you slowly felt yourself get lost.

Tart sweetness mixed with smoky burning as did tongues and teeth. Remains of strawberry and whisky were already staining your faces and throats, even clothes.

One of Astarion’s hands moved from your legs to the nape of your neck as your mouths moved against each other. He pulled you closer, trying to taste more of you as you let it happen with a yearning moan.

His other hand moved to yours still clenching the crystal glass in its fingers and swiftly took it away, placing it down to free you from it. And when you were, your hands immediately grabbed the vampire’s face. You let your fingertips stroke along his pointy ears, wandering into his curls, deepening the kiss even more. Closing your eyes as Astarion’s rolled into the back of his head.

His other hand sneakily went to your ass and with a gentle push made you grind against him once more. And then again, until you took up the rhythm on your own. All while you kept kissing, now exchanging moans, gasps and other lewd sounds spilling from your lips. Passing them back and forth between you.

And when only traces of strawberry and whisky remained on your tongues, you broke away from each other. You were both panting and worked up to the point where it had become almost painful.

You stared into each other’s eyes that were void of anything playful now. The need in them was real.

Your hands cradled your lover’s face as his gaze was almost glassed over - from lust. Different from other times where his eyes had betrayed to you that he was a thousand planes of existence away.

But now he was here with you, almost violently so. The only thing Astarion was dreaming of was you and how your body seemed made to be squeezed against his. And the electricity between you was so strong you knew lightning would inevitably strike both of you.

The fruit had left Astarion messy, red stains smeared all around his chin and throat. You were used to the sight by now although it usually were less tame things than strawberry that left him in disarray. And as the yearning inside you reached a boiling point you felt the urgent desire to offer your vampire the real thing. Turning him into a whole mess in the process - in every kind of way possible.

You bowed down to him, seeing his eyes sharpen at you closing in. And nothing but a hair breadth away from his lips you stilled, reining in your boundless desire for Astarion.

“I need you, Astarion,” you whispered to him, your quivering lips brushing his as you spoke. Your breath caressed his face making his eyes lose focus as they rolled widly once more at your confession and your closeness alike. “And I want you.”

“Incidentally,” he murmured, voice raspy and promising, reminiscent of strawberries mixed with whisky, “I want you too, my heart.” His hands on your behind, fingers spread wide, squeezed hard. “And I need you even more.”

And so you let the reins slip from your hands. Your lips crushed with his again as four hands were busy to grab hold and get rid of what was still in the way.

Astarion fumbled with your already ruined nightgown. Trying to pull it up but getting distracted by how soft your skin felt along his fingertips or how your curves shifted lazily with the roll of your hips or how your fingers felt beneath the hem of his shirt.

After a few unsuccessful tries his already short tempered patience got the better of him. He just clawed at the damned fabric and tore it apart, tossed it away with a growl, breaking your passionate kiss shortly.

His short-circuit action shortly took your breath away as you felt the garment ripped off your body.

You stared at him, now fully bared before him. Crimson predator eyes took you in and couldn’t stay harsh at your softness. The moment drew out as he lovingly gazed upon you and you used it to let your hand flutter to the top of your breasts then along the curves of them, drawing a line with your fingertips. Astarion watched carefully, an almost unwilling gasp escaping him.

Then another roll of your hips, rubbing yourself against him with a moan. You threw your back into an arch, repeating the motion more vigorously, grinding yourself against Astarion’s still fully clothed but not less needy body. His pants were already a mess, you knew, caused by your slickness and his yearning cock alike.

Astarion kept eagerly staring at you as you worked yourself against him. His long fingers wandered over creamy soft thighs, wrapped almost fully around your delicate waist and then up your sides, sliding over your back as you threw yourself into them. You were melting for him while you felt the tension inside you grow. And your lover kept observing you, how your body moved like light waves hitting a sunbathed beach. His lips curled up further into a sinful grin as he felt you come closer to the peak: the shift of your hips becoming more ragged, your breaths heavy and raw.

Meanwhile your hands toyed with the hem of his already wide open shirt, tugging on the strings, wandering beneath the hem, caressing his chest as he had become almost a statue beneath you. But his stillness only betrayed that tension within him grew as well.

But then you wanted more. Without halting the movements of your body against his you urged him to draw his shirt over his head. And when he enthusiastically obliged you immediately thanked him by pressing your soft, warm tits against him.

Astarion couldn’t remain still anymore. Eyes glossed over again as he delighted in your body dragging against his naked, smooth skin now. Your hands were in his hair. And as if you weren’t already treating him enough you let your head loll back and dragged the vampire’s already parted lips to where they could immediately pick up the rhythm of your racing heart.

His fangs pressed cooly against your skin making you shudder from the sensation. Gasps filled the air. You felt Astarion’s lips press a kiss to your exposed throat. And a moment later the sharp pain of his fangs breaking your skin made left you breathless and made claw your hands into his curls.

He drank from you and you stilled. You needed to feel how with every swallow he took of you, his dick moved in unison.

And it made you both yearn to finally feel it in an even more intimate way.

Your fingers moved to unlace Astarion’s pants, making quick work of it. The sensation of his erection being freed and immediately being caressed by your deft hands made the vampire quiver. His focus was shortly broken and you felt some hot blood run down your throat. But who could blame him when you began stroking his aching cock like this. You saw how wetly his length was already glistening and felt how generous amounts of precum spread all over it beneath your hands. He really did need you.

Astarion groaned as he tried to pull himself together, licking up the spilled blood. But two different beasts were battling within him right this moment, each eager to get their fill. And both needed to be sated.

“Darling,” Astarion murmured against your throat, “you’re killing me for good.” His hands were on your ass now, squeezing it with spread fingers and urging you to move up on him.

You kept working his cock harder and you pressed yourself up on his lap slightly, obeying his silent plea.

“Good,” you replied, catching his eyes for a moment as his lips still remained lightly on your throat. “I hope it’s a pleasant way to go.”

And Astarion groaned, confirming it.

With your fingers still wrapped around his length you positioned him against your obscenely wet core. You moved your hips, making his head drag along your hot, slick folds, but not allowing him to enter you just yet.

You did it once, twice, feeling your clit and his cock in your hands throb each time. Then Astarion had enough of you teasing him. With his hands firmly holding onto your ass he pushed you down on him until he was buried inside of you to the hilt.

He began fucking you while you still tried to get used to the sensation.

Astarion started a relentless rhythm, aiding you riding him by dragging up your hips and letting them slam into him with his hands digging into your ass. All while he thrust up into you, hitting deep every single time. He praised you, whipping you on with words almost as sweet as strawberries. And the burning warmth inside you was even greater and more deliciously numbing than a sip of neat whisky.

Oh, this wouldn’t take long. The long, lascivious build-up had made sure of that.

You felt the waves grow higher while your moans grew increasingly unhinged. Already you were bracing yourself to be dragged under as you felt Astarion’s sweet nothings dissolve into senseless groans of pleasure.

But then suddenly, you felt Astarion’s hot mouth wrap around your hard nipple again - the one he had teased before. While your orgasm was already on the horizon and rushing towards you quickly, you felt another sting of pain as the vampire’s fangs broke the sensitive skin of your breast a second time.

In the meantime, a hand had wandered up your back and you felt how Astarion wrapped strands of your hair around his fingers before starting to tug on them.

He began eagerly sucking on your boob, striving to get more of the aphrodisiac that was your blood. Meanwhile his skilled tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, swirling around it.

He kept pulling on your hair, having you bow back while riding him and Astarion kept drinking from you.

The continuous jolts this sensation sent through your already helplessly writhing body pushed you even beyond what you had expected.

With Astarion’s mouth closed around your tit and his dick hitting you particularly hard and deep you dissipated fully in his hands. The vampire pushed you far further over the edge than you'd ever thought possible.

As if drifting out of your body for a while as your orgasm shook through you violently, your core clenched around the vampire buried as deep inside of you as anyone ever was.

With an obscenely wet sound he had to let go of your nipple as Astarion came just as forcefully, balls tightening before he spilled inside of you. Your bodies worked eagerly - clenching, jerking, giving, taking - to make the most out of it.

The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths as you both rode out the waves of your orgasm.

After, you collapsed on Astarion's lap who held you so carefully as if suddenly he felt you'd shatter under his touch. Your arms felt weak now as you wrapped them around your vampire, your legs started to tremble from the almost impossible tension they had endured before.

Your lover only carefully moved you to withdraw from you as he softened. He kept showering you with small kisses and soft reassuring mumbles while he gave you all the time you needed to safely come down from your high.

It took a long while until you were sure you were fully inside yourself again.

“I love you, Astarion,” was the sole thing you trusted your voice to utter because Astarion kept uttering sweet nothings into your ear. His hands were rubbing a comforting rhythm over your back, your chests pressed together, sticky from sweat. Your forehead was leaning on his shoulders, eyes closed.

The vampire softly laughed and patted your back: “I love you too, Tav.”

“Come on, darling, let’s get you cleaned up and into something warm,” he whispered after a few more heartbeats of comfortable, exhausted silence into your ear.

You lifted your head slowly from his shoulder, took one look at how blood was practically smeared all over Astarion’s face and only snorted. But the vampire took it only with another chuckle and began to rise with you in his arms.

He carefully sat you down on the nearby bed, quickly grabbed a cloth and warm water and cleaned you softly. Astarion took special care of where he’d bitten you, spending extra time cleaning the small bite wounds - pressing a kiss on them after.

Slowly you began talking again while Astarion took care of you and you regained your wits but felt exhaustion and blood loss catch up with you.

Astarion continued to carefully pamper you, washing every part of your body with the cloth, almost massaging you. Then quickly cleaning himself up while you were taken over by a big yawn. You were ready to sink back onto the bed and be wrapped up in your lover’s arms as you would slip into your dreams.

“You owe me a new nightgown, Astarion,” you uttered between yawns trying to stay upright - at least until your vampire was finished with the aftermath of your little evening adventure.

The vampire pointedly lifted an eyebrow at you: “But why wear a nightgown if you could just sleep naked?”

You had no power anymore to argue. So you used your remaining energy to stare angrily at your vampire until he stood up with a smirk and returned with his discarded shirt in hand.

“Alright, my dear, I’ll get you a new one,” he promised with a wink. “But for now this will have to do, I fear. I hope you can overlook it was previously owned by me, darling,” Astarion mused and handed you the shirt which you quickly threw over your head. It smelled of his usual scent: rosemary, bergamot - and whisky. Your eyes darted to where the crystal glass with the rest of Astarion’s drink had been forgotten and smiled. Then you drew a deep breath in, closing your eyes. With this you could do.

You clambered further onto the bed then, making yourself cosy as Astarion undressed to climb into bed with you

“You also owe me some strawberries,” you continued as you stretched out your arms towards your lover who you felt was taking too long to join you.

Astarion snorted as he climbed towards you and wrapped you into his arms.

“You’re awfully demanding, darling, you know that? What about my wasted drink?” he replied with a smirk in his voice as you had already closed your eyes, feeling his comforting presence wrapped around you.

“Hm yes, you can get yourself new whisky too,” you mumbled and were already drifting off to sleep.

“Alright then, my sweet,” Astarion answered as he heard your breath deepen already. “A nightgown, whisky, strawberries and whatever else your heart desires, my darling Tav.”

~~~ If you enjoyed this you can support me by reblogging this! You can also support me on Kofi (pinned post on my profile)! ~~~ Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @miss-rebel-without-applause

[heartfullofleeches]

In wolf's clothing

Yan Hybrids (Rabbit, NB. Mouse, Fem. Swan, Male) + Gender Neutral Sheep (?) Hybrid Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of Murder

-

Four animals are brought into questioning following the gruesome murder and dismemberment of their neighbor- A rabbit, a mouse, a swan - and a sheep. A sin of this caliber has not been committed since the founding decades of their shared home. The culprit responsible for the heinous act is to be brought to justice through execution by hanging in front of the town as a cautionary example to any who desire the same level of senseless bloodshed. 

Shall we begin?- 

The rabbit was an upstanding figure in the community. An outsider who quickly made a place for themselves amongst their peers, garnering love and tolerance by means of pleasant conversation and baked treats. Once the rabbit was present, sadness and grief were a thing of the past for most to whom they were acquainted. Honest and true, the rabbit has never told a lie nor done anything to jeopardize their new cozy life. 

“It's such a shame what happened to Mr. Possum.” Said the rabbit. “We had plans for brunch on the day he vanished. I even whipped up a batch of the scones he loved so much.” 

“Did you kill Mr. Possum?” 

The rabbit doesn't bat an eye as they reply. “No, I did not.”

“Where were you the morning he disappeared?”

“I was making tarts for another one of our friends. I think you may know. Sheep may not be the most talkative, but they enjoy my baking as much as any other. Where is Sheep? Are they alright? All this fuss surely must be getting to them by now…I hope they enjoyed the tarts….” 

The rabbit is released from custody. 

The mouse was a timid creature. On the rare occasion she wasn't holed up in the confines of her burrow, a common place to find the mouse was wandering along the borders of town where roads ended and the treelining began. Day in and day out, the little mouse would scrounge for fallen branches. The mouse found purpose for herself weaving baskets and other trinkets for herself and the neighbors who treated her in kind. 

“Oh…This won't take long, will it? I'd rather not be out past nightfall…” 

*Did you kill Mr. Possum?” 

Pain grips the tiny mouse’s voice as she squeaks. “I could never hurt a fly! Mr. Possum was such a gentle soul too… If not a tad misguided…”

“Where were you the morning he disappeared?”

The mouse dries her tears as swiftly as they fall. “Taking a nap after being up all evening making a necklace for… Oh, stars- Sheep, they're here aren't they? Could you let them know I'll be waiting for them outside? My poor, sweet Sheep…”

The mouse is released from custody. 

The swan was nothing if not a beautiful face. Tending to the upkeep of his image, the swan had no care for the outside world nor the people who dwelled within it. A shut in, abiding his precious time in the sanctity of his study. A man of few words; letters were the only feasible way of communicating with the bird, less the matter was of utmost importance and worthy of his time. 

“This is pointless.”

“Did you kill Mr. Possum?”

The swan scoffs - pinching the wall of his cheek with his teeth to avoid expression. “What good would killing that old bastard do me? Now look what you've done? If I develop wrinkles from frowning there will be hell to pay, Mayor.”

“Where were you the morning he disappeared?”

The swan brushes dirt off his fine coat. “In my study as always. That morning I was preoccupied writing notes in one of my books I intended to let that sheep borrow for a time….They are in this building, are they not? I'm sure they've asked for me by now.”

The swan is released from custody.

The sheep is a shadow upon the community. Lurking just out of sight, the sheep did everything in their power to remain unseen amongst their fellow townspeople. Their aloof nature when approach proved their odd behavior was not out of malice, but few still had their suspensions. The sheep was a sweet and gentle soul nonetheless. If only they took more care of their fur…

“Do I really have to be here? I didn't know him very well to begin with.”

“Yes… I'm afraid. Did you kill Mr. Possum?”

The sheep licks at the corner of their mouth, tongue collecting every crumb of pastry glued to their fur. How they wished they could have had just one more bite before coming. They blink, beady eyes glossing over with tears. 

“Did you…kill Mr. Possum?”

The sheep fiddles with the string of their new necklace tucked beneath their shirt as the mayor presses further- fighting every urge to gnaw at the bones dangling over their chest. “I… I didn't.”

“Where were you the morning he disappeared?”

The sheep recalls a distant memory- Lines written in a book they'd read not long ago. “I…was at home. I'm sure Rabbit, Mouse, and Swan can vouch for me….”

A hand squeezes the sheep’s shoulder. The mayor, a noble and charitable elk, nods in understanding at the smaller animal. He eyes the rings of red lacing their neck as they nervously pick at the skin. 

“Understood. Make sure you stick to this story if anyone else questions you. Hurry on home, young one, and be quick.”

The elk leans in closer- Whispering, though the walls of his office are as thick as the saliva the sheep swallows as he utters those dreaded words. 

 “It's about time for you to trim your claws again.”

The sheep is free from custody. 

Scurrying on home with their tail still tucked between their legs, the sheep finds three familiar faces waiting for them there.

“Sheep!” Warmth bathes the terrified animal as they're swept into the caring arms of their long-eared companion. The rabbit dabs their wet cheeks with their apron. “Are you alright, hunny-bunny? Tell us everything that happened.”

Through teary eyes, the sheep details every portion of their integration. “I think the mayor knows I didn't do it…. I hope the same goes for you guys…” 

A collective wave of relief falls over the group.

“That's good news.” Mouse adds. “If anyone is incapable of hurting someone it's Sheep… Poor Mr. Possum….I feel terrible for what happened to him.”

Swan rolls his eyes. “I’d say his demise is poetic justice for accusing Sheep of being a… well you know what.”

Rabbit shoves Sheep's head into their chest. “We all agreed not to talk about that anymore! Especially if Sheep is present! We've all had a long day… Why don't we head inside and relax after all that kerfuffle with a nice, rejuvenating cup of tea? Sheep, could you be a dear and grab that kettle I bought for you?” 

“O..oh… Um…Alright.”

The sheep squeezes past Swan and Mouse as they step inside their home. The remainder of the group wait for the telltale sound of them scrounging around in their room for the present before any of them speaks. 

Rabbit sighs. “Okay. I know they're horrible with keeping track of everything we give them so we have a few minutes to chat about this. Mouse, did you return the ax?”

Mouse points in the general direction of another house off somewhere in the distance. “I put it back in Squrriel’s shed where I found it last night.”

“Swan, did you check every one of those cameras you have to see if anyone saw us?”

Swan rolls his eyes. “Like anything that interesting happens in this town after nightfall. We're in the clear. We’d best head instead to help them. Plus, I need to get my time with them since you'll already taken front and center with everything else.” 

The death of Mr. Possum was later ruled as a robbery gone wrong committed by traveling crooks. It took many moons, but eventually peace fell upon the cozy little town and its tight knit community once more. Sheep, unable to sleep after the tragedy, sought refuge in the homes of those there for them in their time of need. 

Their doors were always open for their kind, gentle sheep. 

[lixzey]

sincerely yours

luke castellan x athena!reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: none, i guess? just some good old fashioned capture the flag shit

a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long! yeah, i know i promised i'd post this yesterday, but my daughter is sick. we just got back from the ER a little over an hour ago bcs she was vomiting like crazy. so, i do hope y'all understand that i have a child to tend to, even though i already finished school.

anyway, this shall be my official early apology for lovelorn part two, which is titled “you're losing me,”

i'm gonna try my best to get that out as soon as i can, but please, do not rush me! thank you!

special thanks to my girl @jennapancake my wonderful bestie @lilmaymayy

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

“There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender,”

Dear Luke, 

I bumped into you today. Gods, you looked so majestic from my point of view. I got lost in your eyes, again. Pretty sure if I stared just a little bit longer in your beautiful eyes, all the molecules in my body would combust.

There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.

“For the love of Ares, write your damn letter after we get the flag!” Clarisse groaned, her electric spear sparking slightly, snapping you out of your lovesick daze.

“Why not? It’s not like the other team’s here,” You shrugged, crossing your legs over the  other. “I have plenty of time to write.”

“It’s not like the other team’s here,” Clarisse mimicked the tone of your voice, rolling her dark eyes. “We are at battle, Y/n! Write the damn letter after we win!”

“Let the girl write, Clarisse,” Silena chuckled, sitting beside you with a soft smile. “She’s just so in love with pretty boy, Luke.”

“Silena!” You shushed, craning your neck to glance around if someone was nearby. “Someone could’ve heard you! He could’ve heard you!”

“Relax, lover girl,” Silena smirked, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder. “No one’s here, no one would dare to approach this side as long as Clar is here.”

Clarissed bobbed her head to the side. “What she said.”

“Shut up,” You grumbled, folding the paper and stuffing inside the back pocket of your shorts along with your pen. “Someone from our team still could’ve passed by.” you huffed, folding your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, so shut up about your pretty boy.” Clarisse rolled her eyes. “Not everyone wants to hear how beautiful his eyes are.”

“Can’t blame her, though,” Silena shrugged her tan shoulders. “He’s so pretty, a sight for sore eyes.”

“He’s a sight for my sore eyes,” You sighed dreamily, resting your chin on your hands.

“Ugh,” Clarisse scrunched her nose. “Are you sure you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite wrongly claimed by Athena? Or at least a legacy of the love goddess?”

“If she was a daughter of love, I would know.” Silena answered, picking up a pebble and throwing it gracefully into the creek right in front of the three of you. “She's definitely not a legacy either. Just an Athena kid in love with a son of Hermes, stupidly in love with said son of Hermes.”

“Hey! I am not stupidly in love-” 

“You aren’t?” Clarisse raised a brow. “You were literally just babbling about bumping into him ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And, you were blushing when you found us.” Silena added, smirking. “Oh, Sil, Clar, I bumped into Lukey! He smells so good, oh gods I love him so bad!”

A blush crept onto your cheeks, the shade of strawberries down at the patch invading your face despite trying against it.

“Aw, you look like a strawberry,” Silena giggled, pinching one of your cheeks.

Before you could utter a word, you heard the sound of rustling leaves and branches snapping to your left.

Clarisse’s head whipped to the side, most likely hearing the intruding sounds. “Get ready,” she muttered, lifting her spear in fight mode.

You nodded, quickly rising up to your feet, grabbing your shield that was sitting unused on the forest floor as well as your celestial bronze sword at the ready. Silena stood beside you, red and pink armor shining in the sun as she held her sword in one hand and shield in the other. She looked so effortlessly beautiful, making you slightly jealous.

Silena was your best friend, and has been since you first arrived at camp. But you couldn’t help but wish you were as pretty as her. She had long gorgeous hair, striking eyes, and angelic features, the look you wish you had. Maybe, if you were as pretty as her, Luke would give you his full attention like how boys did with Silena or any daughter of Aphrodite.

“Oh, hey guys,” A voice you knew oh so well brought you back to reality. Your eyes snapped upward, meeting the eyes of Luke Castellan.

Shit.

You look at Silena and she’s already grinning at you. Clarisse, matching Silena’s with crossed arms. 

“Hi, Luke,” Silena greets him with a smile, a slight teasing tone in her voice directed at you.

“What’cha girls up to?” Luke asks, leaning against a tree. Even when he’s sweaty, gods, he’s handsome.

“Nothing!” You quickly answer, averting your gaze away from him, the blush you had earlier still not leaving.

“Where’s the flag?” Clarisse asked, peeking behind the counselor of cabin eleven.

“It’s with Annabeth, don’t worry,” Luke assured with a chuckle. “She isn’t letting the flag out of her sight, won’t even let me touch it.”

“The other team’s flag?” Clarisse raised a brow expectantly. 

“The Stolls are on it, Chris too.” Luke answers, running a hand over his chocolate curls, making you gulp. Fuck, he’s too damn hot.

Silena cleared her throat, noticing how nervous you are. “Hey, Clar? Let’s help the boys.” 

Clarisse looks at her incredulously, but Silena raises a brow at her. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“Luke, you okay with keeping Y/n company for a bit?” Silena asks with a smirk, fixing up her armor.

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Luke smiles, oblivious to the fact that you are blushing like a ripe red fruit in season.

Shit, shit, shit. You thought, watching the teasing looks of your friends as you stood there obviously frazzled. “No, no, I’m uh, coming with you!” You stammered, nearly stumbling forward. “I’m gonna help!” your voice sounded a little squeaky, making you visibly cringe.

Clarisse snorted, slamming the end of her spear onto the forest floor, the tip sparking like fireworks on the fourth of July. “You stay here, smartass,” she says with a teasing grin. “He's got you covered, right Castellan?”

Luke nodded, a lopsided grin on his handsome face. “I got ‘er, don’t worry,” he chuckles, walking towards you, slinging his muscular arm around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer to his armored chest. “Wouldn’t want to get maimed by three cabin heads.”

“You’ve got Annabeth, Clarisse, and me to deal with if she gets hurt.” Silena says, pink glossed lips curling into a smirk.

You scowl, folding your arms over your chest. “I can fend for myself, thank you very much.”

“You wouldn’t mind if Lukey here protects you?” Silena chuckled, flicking her long hair over her shoulder, her eyes changing to the shade of Luke’s—chocolate brown, amber in the sunlight.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at your best friends. “I’m perfectly fine without a man,” you grumbled, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

“Uh huh,” Clarisse smirks at you. “Say, Luke, you wouldn’t mind saving our smart ass friend, would you?”

“Not at all,” Luke replies, his lips mirroring Clarisse’s. “What’dya say pretty girl? Y’ mind if I save you?” he continues, nudging you slightly with the arm along your shoulders.

Silena and Clarisse snort at Luke Castellan calling you pretty girl. You were a hundred percent sure that Silena would be teasing you relentlessly after the match because of it. 

You narrow your eyes at your ridiculously annoying friends, before slowly averting your gaze towards Luke. Good lord, does this light do him good. “N-No, I don’t mind…” You trail off, your face becoming a little too hot as Luke's perfectly handsome face just inches away.

You feel your heart beating loudly in your chest, making you wonder if the decibels of said beating were audible enough for the boy who’s causing your heart to beat so rapidly.

“That settles it!” Silena clapped her hands together, snapping you back to reality. You quickly push Luke’s arm off of your shoulder, taking a step back away from him as if he had some sort of deadly disease.

I can’t risk him knowing I have a crush on him!

“See you later, pretty girl!” Silena chuckles before grabbing Clarisse’s arm, pulling the daughter of Ares along with her.

As soon as your friends faded from your view, you immediately scramble towards the log you had been sitting on a while ago. You were desperate to hide the fact that you had feelings for the boy standing just meters away. You had to act all tough and calculating, just like your little sister.

“You know,” Luke started, walking in your direction, sheathing his sword in its holster. “From this angle, you look like Annabeth.”

You look up at him, raising a brow, hoping you looked at least intimidating. “How so?”

Luke hummed, taking a seat beside you, placing his shield down on the forest floor. “You had your lower lip out in a pout, just like Annabeth when she’s in deep thought.”

“Who says I’m in deep thought?”

Luke smiles, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I just assumed, since Annabeth is my sister-” he cuts himself off momentarily, looking at you like he had offended you. “I mean, she’s your sister, not mine, you know? Godly parent wise.”

“It’s fine, Luke,” You laugh, giving him an assuring smile. “You have been Annabeth’s family since she was seven. We all know that no one, and I mean no one, can ever replace you as Annie’s big brother.”

Luke sighed a breath of relief. “For a minute there I thought you were going to get mad at me.”

“I mean, there is nothing to be mad about.” You smile, before suddenly remembering the unfinished letter you had sitting in your back pocket. 

Shit.

You quickly whipped your head around to see if the letter had fallen out of your pocket, before reaching in your back pocket to check. Thank gods, it’s still here. You push it down deeper in your pocket, if that was still even possible. It's better to be safe rather than sorry.

“You know, you and Annabeth have a lot in common.” Luke says, leaning slightly to the side, looking you up and down, causing you to feel a little shy.

“Yeah?” You squeak out, your eyes visibly widening like stormy gray drachmas before quickly clearing your throat like nothing happened despite the pink tint on your cheeks. “What makes Annabeth and I so similar?”

“Well, for starters, you’re both smart and wise. I mean, yeah, it’s already given because your mom is Athena.”

You playfully raise a brow at him. “What else?” you ask, the corner of your lips twitching into a small smile.

If you were being honest, you were liking this. Just you and Luke, alone—well, not technically—in the woods just chatting about the similarities between you and your younger sister. Personally, you’d prefer something else as a topic. Although, Luke pointing out the similarities between you and Annabeth would mean that he looks at you like you do with him.

It wouldn’t be wrong to assume, would it? Since he had just implied that you and Annabeth had a lot in common. Perhaps even in ways you don’t even notice.

Does this make you delusional? Maybe. But there’s no wrong with that, right?

“You both zone out,” Luke chuckles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Usually, during mornings. Annabeth, she says that it’s because of lack of sleep from reading all night.”

You stifle a laugh, fully knowing that Annabeth spends a lot of time reading during the night. She says that it’s the only time she has during her day, since she prefers getting all of her chores done before getting into leisure activities. You often wonder how on earth does she manage to function with only three to five hours of sleep, when a child her age is supposed to have more than eight hours of rest.

“Well, that’s an acceptable reason to zone out.” You chuckle, pushing back strands of your hair behind your ear, simultaneously wiping off sweat on your brow bone. “I stay up most of the time too, but I don’t overdo it like our little sister. Quite frankly, I do get cranky if I get little to no sleep.”

“I’ve noticed,” Luke snorts, giving you a teasing smile. “You won’t talk to anyone until you’ve gotten your morning tea. A cup of hot peppermint tea with two slices of lemon, a drizzle of honey, and sometimes you add sprigs of mint you ask Katie to grow for you.”

“You know how I take my tea?” You ask, confusion in your features. “I mean, why do you know how I take my tea?”

“It’s kinda hard not to memorize your tea preference when I hear it every time I pick up Annabeth for training.” Luke answers, causing heat to rise up to your cheeks which you hoped that Luke would not notice.

“Oh,” you mumble, realization kicking in. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”

“Also, you don’t drink it right away. You wait at least two to three minutes—at least from what I see from my table—before taking a sip.”

You suddenly feel butterflies inside your stomach, your cheeks felt like they were getting hotter by the second. You hoped so badly that Luke wouldn’t notice how you were blushing profusely like a teenager in love—which you are, obviously, unless Luke was utterly oblivious to see right through your facade.

Before you could answer, you hear leaves rustling along with heavy footsteps heading towards you and Luke. You quickly rise to your feet, grabbing your sword at shield in defense.

“Enemy team, nine o’clock,” You simply say, the gears in your head moving around to come up with proper battle strategies. 

Luke laughs at you as he stands up. He had his sword still in its holster. “Let me guess,” he chuckles, placing his hands on his waist. Gods, he is so fucking slutty. “Calculating ways to beat their asses?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Obviously.” Luke Castellan was the love of your life, but you were not going to lose a game of capture the flag because of him. “Why aren’t you in position?”

“Relax, pretty girl,” Luke waves a hand dismissively as he smirks at you. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You glare at him, a scowl on your lips. “I can protect myself, thank you very much.”

“Eh, humor me,” Luke nudges your shoulder, a lopsided grin on stupidly handsome face. “It’ll be fun.”

“If you weren’t-” you tried to retort, only to be cut off by Lee Fletcher’s voice. 

“Where’s the flag, Castellan?” Lee demands, moving closer towards you and Luke, his siblings following closely behind, ready for a fight.

You wanted to laugh so badly. It was like they were still new to the game. It made you wonder whether they were purposely forgetting the fact that Luke Castellan is the best swordsman camp has seen in the past three hundred years or they’ve never learned their lessons.

“You’re not getting it, Lee. You’d have to get through me first. If you happen to get through me, which I highly doubt, then you’d have to get through Luke—which I can guarantee will not be good.” You taunted, sword at the ready. You then turned to Luke, who was smiling at you. “What?”

“Didn’t know you think so highly of me,” Luke grinned, pulling his sword out of its holster. “Careful, that might get to my head.”

“Whatever,” You roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest not to blush and fall in love with him even more—if that was even possible at this point. You then turn your attention back to the enemy team. “Let’s get this done and over with.”

“Done flirting?” Michael Yew teases from behind Lee, a smirk plastered on his lips.

You scowled, heat rising to your cheeks for the nth time this day. “We weren’t flirting.”

“Eh, looks like it,” Lee snorts, causing his siblings to erupt in laughter. 

You glared at Lee, but before you could say anything, Luke charged at Lee—instantly disarming him without even breaking a sweat, the tip of his sword just below the son of Apollo’s chin and his sword in Luke’s hand.

“What she said,” Luke growled, glaring at him as he pushed his sword forward, grazing Lee’s neck.

Lee whimpered at Luke’s mercy, his eyes closed shut as his siblings stood behind him like scared little kids—well, most of them were. 

“Luke, stop,” You gently placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling a thousand sparks coursing through your veins. When he didn’t budge, you sighed. “Come on, Luke, he’s not worth it.”

It took a minute, but Luke moved his sword away from Lee, though he was still glaring at the son of Apollo. “Get out of my face before I-”

“Luke,” You sighed, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the side before casting a glance at the son of Apollo. “Go, if you know what’s good for you—all of you—go.”

You then turned your full attention back to Luke, his eyes meeting yours with just a few inches separating your faces from another. You felt his breath hot on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Oh gods, help me.

“No can do,” Lee mutters under his breath, pulling his sword out from its holster. “Attack!” he yelled, charging towards you and Luke.

Acting on your instincts, you immediately grabbed your sword, blocking Lee’s attack, maneuvering your sword, putting your whole weight into a downward thrust. Lee’s sword rattled against the stones, the tip of your sword poking his armor. You then pushed him back with the flat of your blade, causing him to stumble back over a rock, falling on his ass.

You whipped your head around to find Luke disarming Michael Yew with ease, he then grabbed the son of Apollo’s arm, twisting it before shoving him to the side. “You should’ve used arrows.” he taunted the younger boy, a smirk on his lips.

To the side, you saw another child of Apollo—Dawn, you think her name was—sneaking up on Luke, aiming her sword just above his jugular vein.

You quickly ran towards Luke, sliding under his legs, causing Dawn to trip and land face first in a pile of leaves—well, you hoped it was more than just leaves.

“Wrong move,” you laughed deviously, blowing strands of your hair away from your face. 

“Thanks,” Luke chuckled, helping you back on your feet. He then rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh, before jerking his head behind you, only to find Lee charging towards you.

Luke immediately passed you a shield, which you quickly slid on the ground in Lee’s way, causing him to trip and his sword to fly out his hand and fall just below your feet.

You quickly knelt down, picking the sword up and passing it to Luke with a grin. “Nice save, Luke.”

“You flatter me too much.” Luke chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “I should be flattering you! By the gods, you looked like a warrior princess!”

“I did not,” You laugh nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I simply did what I was trained to do.”

“Yeah, well- stay down!” Luke pointed his sword at Lee, causing the boy to sigh heavily. 

“Fine, we surrender!”

Luke turned his attention back to you, giving you a lopsided grin. “Where was I?”

Before you could utter a reply, loud cheers and laughter rang out from the distance, making its way closer to where you and Luke were standing. You see the Stoll brothers along with Chris Rodriguez waving the enemy team’s flag in the air as Clarisse waved your team’s flag in victory. 

“We won!” Clarisse laughed heartily, smiling victoriously as she slung her arm around Chris’ shoulders. “Wave it in their faces, Rodriguez!”

“We won!” You squealed, looking at Luke, your hair bouncing in the air as you jumped up and down. “We won! We actually won!”

All of a sudden, Luke picked you up by the waist, twirling you around like a princess in those movies you watched as a child.

“We won!” Luke laughed as he spun you around like you didn’t weigh anything, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles. “I knew we’d win this!”

“Victory!” You laughed as Luke stopped twirling you, your stormy eyes meeting his chocolate ones as you felt the world pause around you, their cheers fading as Luke smiled at you—that annoyingly handsome smile you’ve come to love—as you felt your heart beat like a bass drum.

You sighed contentedly, yours and Luke’s faces just a few inches away from each other.  “We won,”

“Yeah, pretty girl, we did,” Luke grinned, you could’ve sworn you felt his hold on you tighten as if he was bringing you in closer, but you didn’t want to be delusional so you just laughed it off.

“You guys done flirting?” Clarisse’s voice snapped you and Luke out of your little world. Your eyes widened drastically, your cheeks reddening like a tomato as Luke placed you back down on your feet. You then quickly scrambled towards Silena, Annabeth, and Clarisse, looking embarrassed as ever.

“We..we weren’t flirting!” You quickly told your friends and younger sister, as you reached into your back pockets for some extra hair ties you kept to tie your hair up.

“Uh huh,” Silena teased, smirking at the way your cheeks reddened up. “Whatever you say, pretty girl,”

“Shut up,” You grumbled, tying your hair up when the realization settled in.

The letter was gone.

Oh fuck. 

“Oh shit, fuck, god damnit!” You immediately started looking around for the crumpled paper hoping no one had noticed it yet, unfortunately there were still a lot of campers around, and one must have seen it already.

“What is it?” Annabeth asked, raising a brow at you as she slipped her dagger in its holster. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fuckin’ fantastic!” You say frantically, still scanning the area for any sign of your unfinished letter. You mentally pleaded to your mother to help you find the letter, desperate measures require desperate solutions. Hell, you even started praying to the goddess Aphrodite for help.

Mom, come on, if you love me, help me find my love letter!

Aphrodite, oh goddess, help me in the name of love!

“Oh fuck, you have got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, finally spotting the letter.

In Luke Castellan’s hands.

“Motherfu-”

taglist: @ma1dita @m00ng4z3r @woodlandwrites @sflame15-blog @the-sylver-dragon @ceruleansx @evsolostheuniverse @patitotodd @emryb @onecojg @caramelandvenus @yourfavoritereader @fennecswife @lynbubble @scarletsapphic @lvrgirl6999 @harrysnovia @nyxikae @mxtokko @sc4rl3ttdafoxx

[baby-dr1ver]

kinktober <3

biting

oscar x reader

warnings: biting...Oscar being hot, oral

a/n: can you tell a have a favorite….

oh! @twinkodium this one’s for you 😉

Oscar has an oral fixation. 

Sure, he was obsessed with eating you out, and sucking on your nipples until they were raw but, bititng? This….This was new.

You noticed it earlier that day when he was driving the both of you into the paddock. You had your phone down in your lap, scrolling through social media when Oscars hand knocked your phone away and laced his fingers with yours. It was a sweet gesture meant for only you.

He placed gentle kisses along your knuckles and the back of your palm. You cooed and started to speak up when you felt him nibble at your fingers.

You let out a small gasp at the new sensation, the way he would nip at your finger tips and lick over them as if to apologize for being rough. By the time he let your hand free, your face was red and all the air had gotten caught in your throat. Oscar looked normal as ever, just released your hand and kept driving like all was well. 

By the time you arrived and gotten situated in the Mclaren garage, you had a far away look in your eyes, pupils dialated. All you could think about was his lips on your fingers, the way his teeth felt as they dug into your skin, how on fire you felt from a small act. Was it just a small need to feel your skin under his lips? Or the start of desprate possessiveness?

You hoped it was the latter, Oscar is known to be very level headed, you wished you could see a little of his dark side. 

“Love?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

“There’s my favorite Aussie, don’t tell Daniel.” You stood up and placed a small kiss on his cheek. He leaned into you, leaning his head down to your neck. You rubbed a hand up and down his back, assuming he was quite a bit nervous seeing he was starting P1. You were wrong, wrong wrong wrong. 

“Ozzy….” You warned as you started to feel butterfly kisses dragging behind your ear. This was out of the ordinary, this wasn’t the reserved Oscar Piastri you knew. He nibbled on your ear and pulled away. “Sorry sorry, couldn’t help it.” He pulled away and shrugged. 

Oscar was eventually called over to put on his helmet, he gave you a wink and and got in his car. Fuck, how were you supposed to concentrate on the race?

You stood by the Mclaren staff as you watched Oscar pull into the P2 spot, screaming his name like your life depended on it. He saw each personnel on the team before pulling off his helmet and spotting you. He pulled you over the barricade, over the sea of people, and kissed you like he never would again. You tenses for a moment, again, new things developed in Oscar…this being the most bold. You closed your eyes and held his face like he was the most precious flower you just picked out of the garden. 

Oscar started to pull away, in doing so, pulled you bottom lip with him. You could hear the Mclaren staff and Red Bull, whistling, ‘ohing and ahing’, like we were 2 children who just got caught on the playground together. He stood tall, squeezing your waist and pulling you close, like he was making sure people knew who you were leaving with. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. He had been riling you up all day and he knew it. Especially by the way he stood on the podium, raised his trophy in the air and pointed to you. 

“So, how do you want to celebrate? I think Lando is gonna get severely drunk tonight and he might need a buddy.” You poked as you walked hand in hand to the car. New.

“Mmmm I don’t really feel like going out sweetheart, just wanna spend time with you before we have to part again.” He said as he looked down at you with a sickly sweet smile. God fucking-mother fuck-

You simply nodded and let him guide you to his car, pondering what was gonna happen back at the hotel room. 

You didn’t have to wonder for long, Oscar nearly broke every speed limit law there was just to rush you up to your room, pushing you against the wall, hands above your head. You sat nose to nose, feeling his breathe on your lips. “So…” You said out of breath. “This is new. Not that I don’t like it! Just..new.” He smiled and leaned down to brush his lips against yours. 

“You bring it out in me baby.” He squeezed your wrist before sliding his hands in yours. You quietly gasped, being brought back to the moment in the car earlier that morning. He watched your pupils dilate, watching your body slowly become ooze in his hands. 

He pulled you away from the door, spun you around and held your hands behind your back. Oscar nosed along your neck, thinking he was being sly with his small pecks here and there. Where in fact he was just finding the perfect place to-bite. 

You yelped, “Osc!” He laughed and pushed you towards the bed with your bound wrists. He couldn’t help but pull off all your clothes in haste, desprate, pleading to see all of you. 

“My darling, look at you.” He bent down and kissed your stomach, nip at the flesh with intent. Intent to mark what belongs to him. You watched as his tongue swirled around the small indents he made along your delicate skin. The trail of spit he left as he kissed his way up to you. 

“Please Ozzy-it’s not fair. Been winding me up all day.” You pouted and he mirrored your expression. “Poor baby, what’s got you in a tizzy?” He spoke softly as his markings got harsher. He bit and sucked on your chin, turned his head a little sideways and just about took your whole throat in his mouth. He was insatiable, it was like he was a cannibal that hadn’t eaten in days. 

You moaned and bucked your hips up into his shorts covered bulge. “Ah, I see.” He spoke arrogantly. “You like how it feels when I mark you? Huh baby? Didn’t think I’d be into it either but,” He sucked on your bottom lip. “fuck I can’t get enough of you. Everything is just so soft.” 

He eventually got his shirt and shorts off, to which had you rolling over in your metaphorical grave. He lay between your thighs, over his shoulders, taking a pound of flesh from each. “Oscar, fuck please, everyone will see these tomorrow.” He pinched a deep mark he made on your stomach to stop your whines. “I decide when I’m done.” He narrowed his eyes for a moment and mumbled. “But you smell to good.” Without a word, he fucking ruined you. 

Oscar was never a fast pace lover, he liked to take it slow, watch every microexpression on your face. But I guess today was a good time to try new things. 

Oscar didn’t stop until he had your legs shaking. Gently nipping at your clit, using his fingers and tongue, sucking on existing marks to make them darker. If you could see you body now, you’d be able to see the indents of hs teeth in various places, the bright blooming bruises he’d left behind in his hasted attempt to get close to you. 

He gently kissed all your battle scars, letting you come down from the days events. “You akright baby? Wasn’t to rough with you?” You laughed, bellowing laugh. 

“Oscar, you’ve had me pined from the start, I don’t know what has gotten into you lately but..I like this new you.” He rolled his eyes and kissed you sweetly. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll have normal me back soon, just..I don’t know, I liked seeing you all flushed from the heat, wearing these small little sundresses. Get’s any man going.” 

You stroked his cheek gently, wiping away the dirt and sweat. You let your hand wander over his brow and forehead, working away the worry lines for a moment. 

“Speaking of…” You trailed your hand down his toned chest before he stopped you. “Yeah about that…” He looked at you sheepishly. You simply chuckled and pulled him down to lay with you. 

Oscar laid his head on your chest, face squared in the middle of your boobs, tracing over the faint lines. “You know, everyones gonna make fun of you for this tomorrow. Especially Lando.” Oscar just groaned and went on for round 2.

[candyk0rn]

Cuddles : BG3

It’s been a while! I hope you’re all doing great, and I’m sorry for once more going on a forever break lol. But of course, Baldurs Gate 3 brainrot is so real

Before reading: Fluff, headcanons, Astarion, Lae’Zel, Gale, Shadowheart x reader (separate), gn reader

Astarion:

“Oh? I see you still can’t say no to my endless charm..”

At the beginning of the relationship, touches and prodding aren’t uncommon

Anything that can bring your attention to him

It takes a while and a lot of convincing from you that his somewhat risqué touches was not all that pleased you

And eventually he can even process that you don’t just love him for his body

Although hard for him to realize, with your help he can

So after your relationship has really blossomed and grown, his touches become softer, calmer, more intimate

Nights by the crackling fire, you in his lap, his hand massaging your nape

His fingers are dangerously cold against your skin, but there’s a sense of comfort that comes with the chill

Although he will brush off your reassurance as pitiful and unneeded..

Please reassure him omg

For the longest time, he will surely believe you are like all his other conquests,

Seduced by him and his charms

But just small whispers of love into his ear, your comforting touch against his skin

That’s enough for him.

Gale:

“Come with me, we shall rest under the stars tonight.”

I am of the firm believer that Gale is horribly touch-starved, poor man

Taken advantage of by his own Goddess, thinking that that is the best he would ever be able to do

Then when you come along, it all changed

His thoughts about himself seem to change, his standards seem to change, his love seems to change

He cares so much about you, he cannot help but think he is not worthy

That a cursed, unfaithful man as himself could never even breathe the same air as you

But all of his doubts and worries seem to melt away when you two hold one another underneath the stars

Your fingers lovingly combing through his hair as he rambles on about something he is passionate about

Wether it be a book, his expertise in magic, or Tara (lmao)

Others would shove him off as a show-off, annoying, etc

But you are so willing to hear him go on and on, that he can’t help but love you

His index finger instinctively draws shapes into your back when you hold each other

When he’s cuddled up with you, his worries that today might be his last don’t even cross his mind

He’s more worried about you, how you feel, if you’re comfortable

He doesn’t care if tonight is the last night he shall ever see you

He’d rather die tomorrow than live for an eternity never knowing you

Lae’Zel:

“Chk..I do not take part in worthless acts of intimacy.”

Lae’Zel is not much of a ‘cuddles’ person

Like at all…

She’d rather feel the thrill of battle with you, bathing in the blood of your enemies

Her way of loving is slaughtering anyone who even just looks at you the wrong way

But, if you’re particularly lucky, or especially down

She can’t help but..pity you

In her mind, it’s such a disgusting feeling. This ‘love’ makes her weak, but she cannot run from it no matter how much she tries

The most touch you’ll get from her will only occur in private

A hand perched protectively on your hip or waist

Her head slumped on your shoulder when you’re on watch for the night

acts like this, although small

It means so,so much from her

And she’ll kill you if you go telling Shadowheart about how ‘sweet’ she was being last night

Shadowheart:

“My love…ugh. I’m still not used to calling someone that.”

Shadowheart is lost when it comes to you

Not only is she horribly confused that you of all people would love her

She’s confused as to how she’s supposed to love you

Her entire life, for what she can remember, she’s never been shown comfort or remorse

If she did something wrong, she was punished

She doesn’t remember a single moment in her life when she was loved the way you love her

And although grateful, she feels unworthy

Hugs are common with her, of course in private, but common nonetheless

When she hold you in her arms, the pads of her fingers massage your back lovingly, worried if she lets go, you’ll flee

Let! Her! Play! With! Your! Hair! 🙏🏻

And please play with hers omg

At night, she’ll let her hair down and allow your hands to explore her long, black (or white) locks

Your touch sends shivers down her spine, a feeling she’s not used to, but craves so much

She truly hopes that you’ll never leave her, for now that she has tasted your touch,

She never wants that sensation to leave

Thanks for reading!

[murdockparker]

Roses and Regrets Part 2

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: What a pleasant life it is, to be a widow with no obligations. Getting new dresses, making unlikely friends, what a treat.

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: 18+!!! MINORS DNI (I will haunt you)

Warnings: female masturbation, yearning, Reader decidedly hates Anthony (what's new??) , maybe a bit of angst

A/N: oops my hands slipped and this is what happened. sorry bout that, bruv!

first part - next part

—

“You should have seen him, Meg.”

Her lady’s maid nodded along to Lady Barlow’s rant, having heard the interaction in nauseam since she returned from the park. From his appearance to his demeanor—Meg assumed she might as well have been there. Carefully, she continued to remove the pins from the dowager viscountess’ hair, the very same that she had placed in the morning. 

“I am sure Lord Bridgerton was certainly unagreeable,” Meg droned, accidentally snagging her lady’s hair. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You know, you don’t have to do all that, I am a perfectly capable woman,” (Y/N) laughed, looking at her maid in the mirror. “And he was, unagreeable, if you must know.”

“He is alway unagreeable,” Meg said, exasperated. “My lady, please take no offense, but I think this talk of Lord Bridgerton must cease.”

“You do not have to ask me twice,” (Y/N) snorted. “I wish for nothing more than to stop speaking about that oaf.”

Meg blinked. “Right. Of course.”

“You… you do not believe me?”

“I believe you believe it to be true,” Meg carefully stated, hands by her sides. “We have a good friendship, ma’am, and I am ever grateful that you allow me to speak my mind—”

“So speak it,” (Y/N) said, voice tittering on a giggle. “I shall not take offense, I swear it.”

“You have done nothing but speak of Lord Bridgerton since you arrived from your visit to the park,” Meg began, choosing her words carefully. “Save for when you had your meals, hard to speak over soup and the like. I, for one, am exhausted hearing about it. Perhaps a respite from the topic?”

“Imagine how I feel,” (Y/N) finally laughed. “That man makes me insane.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I pray whenever he marries—oh that poor woman—I hope she can teach him some manners.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Perhaps I should send him a book on it? Manners, I mean.”

“Good idea, ma’am.”

“Meg, you are not hearing me.”

“Oh I am hearing you,” Meg nodded. “I am just choosing not to listen.”

She bit her lip, eyeing her friend’s faraway glance. Glassy, almost. “Perhaps… I suppose I should drop the topic for now?”

“It is late,” Meg shook her head, nearly dropping out of a trance. “I have mending to attend to, if you do not mind.”

“You hate the mending.”

“Picking and choosing my battles, ma’am,” Meg smiled politely. 

“Admirable,” (Y/N) said. “I suppose it is late…”

“Might I fetch you some more tea before you retire?” She set the last pin down amongst the vanity. Covered in expensive oils and products, it’s a wonder that anyone could find anything at all on the surface. Thank God Meg knew the contents like the back of her hand.

“No… I fear it will keep me up all night, but thank you, truly,” (Y/N) said. 

“Goodnight, my lady.”

And then, she was alone. 

Snuffing her candle, she hopped into her bed. Thankfully she never shared this one with Lord Barlow—that was reserved in the wing across the estate—leaving this bed untouched by such a soiled man. It was pleasantly plush and covered in endless pillows, she wondered if the royal princesses slept in beds as nice as this one—nicer, probably. More pillows, if she had to wager.

Sheets pulled up to her chin, eyes focused on the ceiling, she tried to chase sleep. Her mother had taught her a trick when she was young, imagining rabbits chasing around the room and counting those—perhaps it was sheep? Regardless, she tried counting. She only made it to twenty nine before flipping onto her side, exasperated by the count. 

Sleep never came.

The covers melted off of her body in an instant, floating over to her door to ensure it was locked. Quietly, oh-so quietly, she turned the latch. No need for the staff to interrupt her… sleep. She hardly had to turn to such matters, but when exhaustion cycled her brain and not her body, leaving her tossing and turning all night, she really had no other choice. 

No other choice, she reminded herself. 

She laid on top of the covers this time, rabbits and sheep all but forgotten.

If there was to be one positive of marrying, it was the sheer fact that she was able to fully understand her body as a woman. While the marital act itself was entirely loathsome—a chore with Lord Barlow that happened infrequently during their marriage to try for an heir—the act of doing it alone? 

Why the idea alone just got her heart pounding. 

She never had anyone to teach her these things, her mother passed before her marriage, so there was no ‘wedding night talk’. Everything that Lady Barlow had learned was from her sheer will and determination—a chase for something she never quite knew she was racing towards. Her husband? He had never been any help. A few grunts and thrusts before he would spend himself inside, collapsing on top of her for the night. 

She refused to give her late husband much thought—not when her hands were on her breasts, one slinking lower to touch a more delicate area. 

No. She needed to focus her thinking on something else. Something to get the job done, send her to sleep sooner than later. 

The gentleman. The faceless one that she imagined in place of her own hands. It usually sped things along if she focused on a generally well-looking fellow and how he’d touch her instead of just chasing her own feelings with her fingertips. Saved her wrists a lot of pain too—occasionally she felt like she was back practicing her penmanship, writing lines all day with her governess—the ache was fairly similar. Although, one pain caused a higher embarrassment than the other.

Decidedly happy with her diversion of thought, she made quick work on the bottom of her nightdress and pulled it up to her stomach. (Y/N) had never the need to sleep with drawers, feeling a dress was more than enough. Besides, it gave her easy access on nights like tonight. Her fingers danced with her lower lips, already damp with arousal. 

She sighed at the first contact, the pure ecstasy of running her fingertips across her glistening folds. In her mind, he was doing this to her, the nameless man who wanted nothing more than to give her what she needed. With slow and tantalizing circles, she teased her clit, gasps leaving her lips involuntarily, her eyes rolling shut before she could even think. Her non-dominant hand continued to grasp at her breast, squeezing and rolling the flesh until she was utterly mindless. 

The climb was thrilling, it was suffocating and all encompassing. How she dreamed she could experience this with someone, feel this pleasure with another, both giving and taking exactly what the other needed. She groaned again, feeling herself getting closer to the edge, her circles faster now, the gentleman making good work on her neglected center. 

“Gods,” (Y/N) cried, trying her very best to keep her voice down. She didn’t need Meg inquiring about her, not when she was so worked up and so, so close.

And then… the fall. Everything was white and her heart felt like it was bound to beat out of her chest.     

Brown eyes.

As she fell into a peaceful slumber, for no reason in particular, she decided her faceless gentleman had brown eyes. 

—

Breaking her fast was usually rewarding, the chefs at Barlow Estate were some of the most talented in the ton—of course, only in her humble opinion, not that she had much to compare it to. When she first married Lord Barlow, having such fulfilling meals first thing in morning was almost worth marrying such an oaf. Almost.

“Did you have a good sleep, ma’am?” A butler asked, taking (Y/N)’s empty plate, replacing it with one full of fresh cut fruit.

“Oh!” Her face flushed. “Y-yes, James, of course. I always have a pleasant sleep.”

“You look well rested, ma’am,” he nodded.

“My lady,” Meg spoke up, gaining the attention of Lady Barlow from her fruit. “You have an appointment at the modiste early this afternoon.”

“I don’t recall making an appointment,” (Y/N) held her hand still, half of an apple tight in her grasp.

“I made the appointment, ma’am,” Meg said. “You are in need of new dresses—” 

“Is there something wrong with the way I dress?”

“Of course not,” Meg said quickly, her face growing slightly pink. “It is just, since the late Lord Barlow passed you have been in mourning attire—blacks, blues, the entire dreary ensemble. I figured it would be best to get dresses that suited more the colors of the season.”

“I am unsure if you noticed,” (Y/N) said, taking a small bite of her apple. She chewed it quickly. “But my dress today is green.”

“I did notice,” Meg nodded politely. “It is a lovely color, but perhaps a lighter blue would be nice? A purple?”

“Perhaps you should listen to her, ma’am,” James interjected. “The family account has not been used since after your wedding and the mourning attire—”

“And I can use that money elsewhere,” (Y/N) raised her brow. “I’m sure the new viscount will be pleased I am not blowing his money so frivolously, I do not see the need for new dresses.”

Meg sighed, giving James a trying look. He shrugged. “Humor me. Just one dress.”

“Fine. One dress."

Somehow, between the carriage ride to the modiste and the tailoring of a beautiful purple display piece, Lady (Y/N) Barlow was talked into three new dresses. A sharp pinprick to her left leg brought her back to her senses. 

“Oh! Lady Barlow, I do apologize,” Madame Delacroix said. “You must keep still as I pin your hems."

“I will try my best,” (Y/N) smiled, glancing down at the woman working hard on her new dress. “How fortunate the display dress you had fits so well.”

“Oui, how fortunate,” Madame Delacroix nodded. “A few pins and stitches and it will be perfect. And this color is very flattering—I am certain the men of the ton will turn their heads at this.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I have no need to turn heads, Madame,” (Y/N) said curtly. “I am simply just refreshing my wardrobe.”

“Oh, no one has the need to turn heads, save for the young ladies,” Madame Delacroix giggled, it sounded almost fake, forced. “But my work will do that regardless, so do expect that Lady Barlow.”

“Joy,” (Y/N) sighed, tilting her head at her reflection. While it hadn’t been an extraordinarily long time since she debuted—a shake over three years at the most—she was no longer the young girl from her first season. Her curves have filled out, her features more defined, so this particular cut was suiting her just fine. Madame Delacroix was the best modiste for a reason, knowing just how to make the ladies of the ton sparkle.

The front door swung open, a sea of blue flooding in the entryway. “Ah, Lady Bridgerton, I shall be with you in a moment!” Madame Delacroix called out.

(Y/N) froze at the mere mention of the Bridgerton name.

“Take your time, Madame,” Lady Bridgerton cooed, practically shoving a book of fabrics in her daughter’s face. Eloise, (Y/N) recalls, the second eldest daughter of the brood. It was her first season. “We’ll be patient.”

“Shall I pull another dress, Lady Barlow?”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head wildly. “I rather think I am finished for this afternoon. Please add the dresses to my account—”

“Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton said kindly. “How lovely it is to see you.”

Fuck.

“Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) curtsied, feeling far too proper. “Likewise.”

“What a lovely color that is on you,” she said, eying the girl up and down. “I take it you are out of mourning then, yes?”

“Have been since the Danbury Ball,” (Y/N) nodded. “But I gather Lady Whistledown has already made that public knowledge.” 

Lady Bridgerton's cheeks flushed, like a child with their hand caught in the biscuit jar. “I cannot say that I find myself reading that gossip rag often, but—”

“Oh Mother,” Eloise groaned, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. “You read Whistledown just as often as I.”

“I do not blame you, Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) quickly added. The older woman’s shoulders relaxed. “For the many months I was in mourning and not socializing, Whistledown was my way I could keep up with everything. I very much would like to thank her, should I ever get the opportunity.”

“Yes, well,” Lady Bridgerton cleared her throat. “In any case, if you happen to be free tomorrow afternoon, would you like to join me for tea?”

“Tea?”

“I remember how it felt when—” she stopped herself, eyes becoming glassy. “Becoming a widow so suddenly is difficult. I would like to bestow my wisdom upon you if you’d allow it.”

“You are not quite old enough to be bestowing wisdom,” (Y/N) laughed lightly.

“I beg to differ,” Eloise mumbled.

“Flattery, Lady Barlow, will get you everywhere,” Lady Bridgerton smiled, elbowing her daughter lightly. “And you already have the invite, no need to lay it on so thick.”

“That is very kind of you, but—”

“So, shall we say noon tomorrow?”

The Bridgertons, as Lady Barlow gathered, were a difficult lot to say no to.

“Noon. Sounds perfect.”

—

It felt odd, being in the drawing room of Bridgerton House. She only ever had the fleeting thought that she’d ever sit here the once—ages ago during her first season. Now? Now she was sitting and drinking tea with Lady Bridgerton as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“You have a lovely home,” (Y/N) said, holding her teacup a little tighter than she should. 

“Thank you,” Lady Bridgerton said voice full of appreciation. “Tell me, Lady Barlow, how is your family?”

“My family?”

“Oh, forgive me for asking,” Lady Bridgerton clarified. “I just had realized that I know very little about you, you were only in the season for such a short time before you married. I figured your family was a good place to start.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) put the cup down. “I understand. Seeing as everyone knows about your family,” Lady Bridgerton chuckled at that, “I should only fill in some blank spaces, I suppose.”

The elder dowager nodded her head, tipping her cup at the younger widow to continue.

“No family, I’m afraid,” (Y/N) said, her voice wavering on sad. “Mother passed a few years before my debut, Father just last year. No siblings, so… just me I’m afraid.”

“Goodness,” Lady Bridgerton pressed a hand to her heart. “Your father and husband in the same year? I am truly sorry for your losses.”

“My mother was the true loss,” she said honestly, her voice practically lifting. “Kindest soul to grace this Earth, I mourn her every day. The others? I do not doubt anyone has missed them.”

“Lord Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton dropped a spoonful of sugar into her cup. “He was an odious man. When I had heard he had taken another wife—it was quite the story around the ton. I was beside myself.”

“I happen to be number three,” (Y/N) said matter-of-factly. “Number One and Two both died in childbirth, trying to give that man his beloved heir. Never worked out, and I cannot say I am crestfallen I never came to be with child, either. The new Lord Barlow is quite well suited for the role regardless, I am told, so I suppose it has worked out for the best.”

“Yes,” Lady Bridgerton had a small smile against her lips, “I can imagine so.”

“Does your son,” (Y/N) coughed, correcting herself, “Lord Bridgerton, does he know I am here for tea?”

“Oh my son is not always privy to my social calendar,” the older woman winked. “He is probably out galavanting and trying to find a wife.”

“A wife?”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Bridgerton nearly beamed. “Lord Bridgerton is finally looking to marry—even after all these years of begging him. Something just clicked last season, I suppose. Perhaps Daphne, the duchess, marrying finally gave him the right idea?”

(Y/N) nodded politely. “I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

“I only wish for the best for all eight of my children,” she nodded, “so seeing him look to marry makes me ever hopeful.” 

“Mhm,” (Y/N) sank into more of her cup, polishing it off.

The grand clock ticked away. 

“I apologize if this all makes you uncomfortable Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton started. “It is just… when Edmund passed, I had my family and wonderful friends to support me. I figured, perhaps, having another friend would not be the worst thing?”

“Lady Bridgerton, you are very kind for checking in with me, and I very much appreciate this tea,” (Y/N) said honestly. She felt like she could jump out of her skin with anxiety, but tried her very best to keep it under control. “But… as you had alluded, it is no secret that Lord Barlow and I were not a love match. There is no need—”

“Being a widow is hard,” Lady Bridgerton cut her off. “It is rotten work and you feel like a shell of yourself, only having a title such as ours because of who we married and not in our own right. Tell me, do you plan on remarrying?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I am quite content with my life,” (Y/N) said thoughtfully. “Widows have all the freedom in the world, I am allowed many opportunities because of it—far more than when I was simply a little thing on the Marriage Mart.”

“I suppose that would be… correct,” Lady Bridgerton treaded lightly. “However, do you not wish for a family? The support of another?”

“It is not that I do not wish for a family,” (Y/N) said truthfully. “I am sure part of me does, but it is more the matter of everything that comes with it.”

“I could never imagine going about life alone,” Lady Bridgerton said. “After Edmund… I am just grateful my children were here to keep me sane, grounded, even.”

“Children can be a blessing…”

“But children,” Lady Bridgerton added quickly, “they are not for everyone. I hope you find happiness in whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” the young viscountess said sincerely. “You have such a wonderful life, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Violet,” she corrected. “Please, call me Violet.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s cheeks darkened. “Violet, then.”

“We are friends now, after all,” Violet smiled kindly, the kind of smile only a mother possessed. She waved for the tea to be replaced, a butler practically rushed to fulfill the viscountess’ request. “More tea?”

“I would love some more,” (Y/N) said, feeling lighter than air. Perhaps having a friend was a good step forward, a leap into the right direction.

The door to the drawing room slammed open.

“Mother, I just received our balance from the modiste and—”

Much like he owned the place—and in a way, he did—Lord Bridgerton took command of the less-than-quaint room and had all eye on him. His own eyes—his brown eyes—were trained solely on the widow sitting beside his mother, his mouth agape.

“Oh Anthony, you cannot just barge in here,” Violet scolded, “we have a guest.”

“I see that,” he seethed, shoving his hands behind his back in faux-decorum. “Lady Barlow.”

“Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded stiffly, not bothering to raise from her seat.

He ignored her, turning swiftly to his mother instead. “May I have a word alone with our guest, Mother?”

Feeling the tension in the room rise, Violet sighed, giving into her son’s request. “I believe I should check on the governess, anyhow,” Violet said, rising from her seated position. “Behave.”

Anthony brushed his mother’s whispered warning off, tilting his head to the staff, all leaving the room at his command. The door had barely clicked shut before he stepped forward. “Since when are you friends with my mother?”

“Since when do you care about who I spend my time with?”

“Since that company is my mother,” he said cooly. “I would have thought you were just so turned off by the Bridgerton name that you would ignore all of my family—”

“She is a nice woman,” (Y/N) rose, crossing her arms. “How you managed to turn out the way you have despite that is beyond me.”

“You are in my home,” Anthony pointed. “You insult my character and you dare try to befriend my mother?”

“Dare?” She laughed. “Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“Not with my mother,” he stepped towards her. 

“Your mother,” she smiled forcefully, “Violet, has been nothing but kind to me today. She was merely looking out for me—offered me some good advice.”

“Advice?” He laughed. “On what planet could someone many years your senior offer you helpful advice?”

“You could not settle with just insulting me, so you had to insult your own mother? She is not yet elderly—”

“Yet she is older than you,” he corrected, his cheeks pink from his mistake. “Do you not have friends your own age?”

“Do you not have something better to do?”

He huffed, squeezing his wrist in restraint. “I came here to speak with my mother—”

“Yet you shooed her out of the room and decided to speak to me instead,” she countered, stepping closer. “To insult me? To threaten me? Whichever, I suppose, I will never understand. I decided to take tea with Lady Bridgerton because she offered it—offered advice on being a widow, something you have already known about me.”

“I wouldn’t wish for her to hear our conversation, besides, her advice could not have been that helpful,” Anthony snorted. “My parents were in love, her trials of being a widow pales in comparison to your situation—”

“The one in which I also lost a husband? The sole definition of being a widow?” She said, her arms tight against her chest. “That situation?”

The grand clock—that damned grand clock—chimed in the uncomfortable silence, a new hour beginning.

“I may not have loved Lord Barlow,” she admitted. “He may not even have been a friend to me, but I still am a lady who has lost her husband—a lady who has so much as lost her way in this fucked world, a world where a woman cannot simply be without one. Your mother was simply being kind.”

“I did not mean…” Anthony’s posture softened, even just a bit, words caught in his throat.

“But you did,” she pointed. “If you hadn’t meant it, you wouldn’t have said it. My, Lord Bridgerton, you certainly have a way with words, much like you always have, it seems.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She looked at the clock. “I must take my leave. I am expected to be back home soon, the estate certainly cannot run itself, seeing as my husband,” she nearly spat the word, “has left it to my care. What a thoughtful man he was.”

“I—Lady Barlow,” Anthony started, unsure of where he was going with it. “Please accept my apologies.”

“Keep them,” she smiled. “They are nearly as useless as you are. Excuse me.” Lady Barlow opened the door with haste, nodding to the staff members who were waiting outside. Her lady’s maid, Meg, followed only a few steps behind her, her attention caught on the wounded viscount in blue.

Anthony practically dissolved into the arm chair, unsure of what to do next. He had half a mind to go to his study to drink, to pour over the invoices that had him enter this room in the first place. His interactions with Lady Barlow usually left him buzzing, his blood boiling and his ego only partially wounded. How he was left feeling so defeated was beyond him.

“A way with words?” He mumbled to himself. “I never wish to understand that woman.”

Yet, a part of him nearly screamed the opposite.

How peculiar.  

—

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