#I need the base first. There are a few others. I have a purple and gold fabric scrap pile. though that one is kind of the opposite where I

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have a tiny group of orange & teal items around, but never enough to make a full outfit out of. There are a lot of situations like that, where I have a handful of multiple small items that all match each other really well, but just not any larger article of clothing to tie them all together lol.  I think I still don’t have enough for it to be cohesive, but this is a work in progress attempt at least?? ..

[princessdimondheart]

Tells | Ghost x Secret Wife! Reader

Pairing: Ghost x f! Reader

Warnings: blood, wounds, pregnancy, 🥺

Edited: No

A/N: I really wanted to do my own take on this idea. Hope you like it.

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

Johnny wasn’t sure how he hadn’t realized it before, after being introduced to his Lieutenant’s wife. There were small, subtle tells that gave away Ghost having a significant other, but he never put the pieces together. Honestly, Johnny was a little upset because he’s in the SAS- he should be able to see things like this. 

The first time he noticed something was strange with Simon was when they were gathering their gear right before going to another mission. They were placing the last of their equipment into their bags. Simon had not put his black skeleton gloves on yet so his wrists were exposed. Johnny didn’t notice anything different until Simon rolled up his sleeves like usual. And there it was. 

A hair tie. 

He didn’t think much about it. Maybe he found it laying around the base. No. That would be weird and there weren’t that many women frequenting the same places as Simon anyways. 

Could he be using it to snap at his wrist when or if he got anxious? Nah.. Ghost stays focused on missions. Johnny doubted Ghost would let anxiety pull a fast one on him in the field. 

Oh! Simon is definitely growing his hair out. Johnny wondered if his balaclava was comfortable with long hair. So he pointed it out. 

“Growing your hair out L.t.?” His lips curled into a little smirk. 

Simon looked up from the full magazine in his hands. Only his eyes gave away his confusion. “No? Why?”

“Your hair tie.” Johnny nodded to his right wrist. “Never took ya for a purple-wearin’ kind of guy, sir.”

Ghost blinked at his Sergeant and then glanced to his aforementioned wrist. Sure enough a bold purple hair tie was bound to his lower arm. Simon was sure he had removed it before leaving home earlier that day. 

“Oh… must have forgot.” Simon spoke absentmindedly. He was remembering his wife. He had gotten home before her and when she came he helped her remove her ponytail, completely forgetting about the hair tie once their kisses got the better of them. 

Simon didn’t say anything else, so Johnny shrugged it off and continued filling his bag with ammunition. Not even two minutes after he forgot what they were talking about when Captain Price called them over. 

~~~~~

The next time something was different with Ghost, Johnny wasn’t even the one who noticed it first. It was Gaz who pointed it out. 

After a long and hard mission, Task Force 141 had finally arrived at base. The team desperately needed showers, so right after hoping off the helicopter everyone went straight to their barracks. 

After their most loved showers everyone went to the mess hall for some real food and not the field MREs they had been eating for the past few weeks. There Kyle had already gotten his portion of food and was digging in. Soap and Price were sitting across from him too, but no Ghost in sight. Simon came in almost halfway through their dinner and sat next to the young Sergeant. The food on his tray was not being eaten. 

That’s when Kyle smelled it. A fruity smell was wafting from the freshly showered SAS powerhouse next to him. Ghost smelled of fresh cut pomegranates and some other fruit notes. It took him by surprise. Kyle would have normally pictured Ghost as a strict standard-issue soap kinda user, not a fruity one. 

“Did they change the regular soaps, sir?” Gaz took the risk. 

Johnny had finished chewing and looked up at his L.t. and Kyle with a questioning look. Then he leaned forward on the table to take a sniff. 

“Is that pomegranate, L.t.?” Johnny chuckled. He’d take any chance to tease his superior. 

Ghost gave them a subtle glare. He had hoped no one would have noticed his mistake. He’d been in a hurry to leave home and well…

“I grabbed the wrong bottle.” He deadpanned then turned to Price, who was shaking his head in disapproval at the two, to ask about any new leads. Clearly, the conversation was over. 

~~~~~

The third time was when their mission went FUBAR. Ghost and Soap had gotten separated from Captain Price and Gaz when their enemies tried to ambush them. In the chaos Soap was shot in the leg, but with Ghost’s help, he was able to escape and hold out until it was safe enough for them to head to the rendezvous point for extraction. 

Now that they were relatively safe, Ghost was searching his packs for supplies to help Johnny with. Johnny wasn’t particularly paying too much attention to what he was doing since he was bleeding out and moaning in pain, but he definitely noticed when Ghost used a tampon to plug the gunshot wound in his thigh. 

“Fuckin’ hells, Ghost! Where’da fuck yous get a bloody tampon from!?”

“It’s an essential tool for survival.” He honestly had no idea how that slipped into his med pouch. Johnny guessed it was so if Ghost had said it. 

~~~~~

Next time they were somewhere in Africa, most definitely melting with the heat. A great bonding experience for the two of them. Their only relief was a slow moving breeze. Soap and Ghost were staking out one of a known terrorist cell’s many compounds. All was quiet for now. 

“Johnny?” Ghost didn’t move from his position, eyes dead on his scope. 

Johnny looked over. “Yeah, L.t.?”

“Once we’re done here, I’m taking you somewhere important. Keep your schedule clear.” Simon’s deep voice sounded out softly. 

“Oh… alright.” He didn’t know what to say. “Okay. Definitely, Simon.” 

He looked back towards the compound. Simon had glanced at that moment to see his little smile. His eyes crinkled. 

~~~~~

True to his word, after their stakeout mission was completed, Simon hauled Johnny into his car and began to drive them to who knows where. All Johnny knew was that the drive took several hours from their base in London to wherever they were in the countryside. 

They were nearly at their destination when Simon pulled them into a long driveway and pressed a button controller on his shade that opened the metal gates. Going through, the road was surrounded by open pastures on both sides. When Johnny looked around more closely he noticed a few horses, and, was that a cow? They were grazing on the lush grass. Was his L.t. taking him to a farm?

“Where are we, sir?” He had to ask. 

“You’ll see, Johnny.” Simon had slowed down so as to not spook any of the animals grazing. 

Two minutes later and the car pulled up to a nice two-story cottage home. It was made from stone and appeared to be like a fairy tale type of house. Johnny quite liked the look of it. He noticed that the lights were on. 

Simon opened the locked door, then took off his skull balaclava. It was clear that he was comfortable enough to forego it. “I called ahead, so dinner should be ready soon.”

Dinner? Who’s made them dinner? Johnny didn’t question him and just nodded. Simon stepped inside, none of the wooden boards squeaked when he walked in them unlike when Johnny stepped on them. His steps alerted the person in the kitchen. A delicious smell was coming out in soft waves. The person poked their head out to see who was there. They weren’t worried because they knew that only Simon had the extra key. 

“I’m home.” Johnny noticed a softness in his voice that he hadn’t heard before. Simon’s large frame was blocking his view of the person. A dog suddenly burst from the kitchen barking at Simon before realizing who he was. It sat down when he started to pet him, his butt wiggling with the fast beat of his tail. Cute. Then the dog, a German shepherd, turned to him and started sniffing him with caution. Johnny let him sniff his hand and after a bit he licked his hand and wagged his tail. Approved. 

“Welcome home, Simon!” The person’s voice was distinctly feminine. Johnny had moved closer to Simon and the kitchen, so when the woman fully came into view he saw her right away. 

She went in for a hug and that’s when Johnny noticed a small, yet significant distance between the two. She was pregnant and her baby belly was making it a little harder to hug her. But that didn’t stop Simon from embracing her as tightly as he could. When her hand came up to rest against Simon’s shoulder, Johnny noticed again the large diamond on her ring finger. 

“L.t.?” The two lovers separated to look at him. 

“Johnny, come meet my wife.” Simon gave him a knowing nod which Johnny instantly returned. 

He almost couldn’t believe it. His L.t. had brought him home to see his little family. Johnny almost choked up upon realizing the significance of Simon trusting him with this information. Right then and there, Johnny gave Simon a mental promise to help keep his family safe, no matter what.

Bonus: 

“Oh! The baby is kicking! Want to feel ‘em, Johnny?” Simon’s wife asked. 

“Oh, sure! If that’s alright with you?” She took his larger hand in answer and placed it near the top of her baby bump. A few kicks hit his hand. They were rather strong kicks too. Definitely a football star, or another SAS kid, in the making. 

“Woah!” Johnny exclaimed. Then, turning to his L.t. who was watching them interact, his mouth turned into a wide grin. “Does that make me their uncle, Simon?”

“Don’t push it, MacTavish.” His wife giggled. 

Masterlist

[hysteria-things]

based off of this

BEREAL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the bereal notification goes off when you and your boyfriend are in an intimate situation.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, spanking, hair pulling, dumbification, breeding, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 631

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: DID NOT MEAN TO RELEASE THIS LATE BUT I HAD TO WAIT UNTIL MIDNIGHT SINCE I REACHED THE POST LIMIT AGAIN😭

but anyway matt/chris will be back tomorrow!

nate’s phone blows up with notifications on the nightstand from the DA BOYZ group chat with nick, matt, and chris — but he’s too busy to check it now.

moaning loudly, your hands clutch at the pillow your head is lying on. your knuckles are white, eyes rolling back so far in your head. it’s been forty-five minutes, and you came twice already.

you guys are making a fucking mess, but neither of you cares at this moment. his and your cum combined slap against your thighs, a string of arousal connecting and breaking each time he thrusts into you. you mumble something into the pillows, but it’s so incoherent that it sounds like a moan.

his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck, the other one running up and down the small of your back. he’s so deep inside your cunt that you seriously don’t know how he does it.

drool drips down your chin and onto the sheets below, body becoming rag doll-like when your grip starts to loosen and you start to rock violently to the speed of the way he’s plowing hard into you with no mercy. “there she is; getting fucked stupid on my cock because that’s all you have to fucking live for.”

only groaning in response, you start to see specks of white every time you blink. your pussy is so tight around his dick that it makes it hard for him to move. nate’s so balls deep that it feels like he’s in your throat.

silenced screams go past your lips as the headboard bangs rapidly against his bedroom wall, his tip brushing against your g-spot for the nth time tonight. he moans, grabbing your ass and jiggling it before slapping it. “might have to put my kid in ya.” he hisses, giving it another hit. “i need to breed this pussy full. you let me use it so well.”

catching a glimpse at his lit phone screen, he sees a specific notification pop up:

⚠️time to bereal⚠️

2 min left to capture a bereal to see what your friends are up to!

he smirks, grabbing his phone and opening the app. he points the camera to his face as the time counts down. eyes hooded and lips swollen, a handful of hickeys decorate his neck in red and purple, along with a few scratch marks on his chest.

pressing the white button at the bottom of the screen, he grips the top of your hair to yank your head off the pillow. he quickly turns his phone around, the back camera getting your face into view.

nate waits patiently a few seconds for the picture to render, letting go of your head so he can upload it. this is the first time he’s seen what you look like all night.

strands of hair are disheveled or stuck to your forehead from sweating, eyes crossed with your tongue sticking out like a dog. that poor brain of yours thinking only about nate’s cock fucking the shit out of you.

“i’m cu-mming.” you hiccup, shaking violently as you’re overstimulated from three hard orgasms. the boy behind you licks his lips, stopping deep before spurts of his hot cum fill your womb.

seconds later, reactions come flooding in on his post. some are from peers from high school, while the rest are from the crew.

madi’s eyes are wide, her hand covering her mouth.

nick looks disgusted, his face half out of the frame.

matt’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, mouth hanging open in complete shock.

last but not least, chris smiles widely at the camera with a big thumbs up.

matthew.sturniolo: oh brother

nicolassturniolo: NATHAN DOE.

user: she’s living the dream, i’m afraid…

madifilipowicz: 😟

user: HE HAS BITCHES???

christophersturniolo: get that pussy bro😝

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @stellarsturns @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2

[delusional-day-dreamer]

pretty in pink - p.b

‣ paige bueckers x reader!

‣ wc: 2835

‣‣ synopsis: your longtime (not so secret) girlfriend surprises you by dying her hair your favorite color! takes place before and on july 22nd (aka paige's sneakity peakity live). literally just tooth-rotting fluff and a little kissing!

‣‣‣ a/n: this is the fic that won in the poll (i'm not surprised y'all chose paige) but the next one i have scheduled to release is one of the nika ones! hopefully i'll be more consistent with writing in these next few weeks before school starts.

On your way home after a very successful meeting planning out the beginning of the uconn women's basketball team season, especially with media days and pressers, there was only one thing that could've made your night better. The presence of your beloved girlfriend, Paige Bueckers.

You and Paige had started dating in the middle of her junior year and your sophomore year, but that's not to say the two of you weren't harboring feelings for a while before that. Being one of the team photographers had allowed you to spend a lot of time with the uconn wbb team on and off the court, and you were very close with basically all of the players, especially Azzi.

Being in Azzi's year meant that she was the first person you connected with, having two classes with her outside of basketball definitely helped your relationship as well.

So it was nothing less of a delight to her when she would often catch your gaze lingering on her other best friend, Paige Bueckers, for just a second too long at games or certain practices you were called to take shots of.

As little did you know, she had caught on to the fact that Paige bore a huge crush on the pretty photographer who always got the best shots of her, came to check up on her before both her meniscus and acl surgeries and stayed with her multiple nights afterwards, and to top it all off, always gifting her the cutest bouquets of her favorite purple flowers.

She only put up with the two of you respectively complaining to her about your ever-consuming feelings for three ish months, before finally setting the two of you up to privately confess in your hotel room on Christmas Eve after an easy dub for UConn.

After a few shedded tears, excited giggles, slight teasing, and searing kisses, the two of you made it official, not telling anyone on the team, except Azzi of course, until around Valentine's Day, and still keeping it on the down low from the media, but you often joined Paige as her plus one to events pertaining to and outside basketball.

And unfortunately for the two of you lovestruck fools, you weren't the most discreet when making heart eyes at each other. The fans were not oblivious to the way Paige would look for you before, during, and after games, the fact that majority of your best photography was of Paige, and your friendly, but all too coupley sweet, interactions.

With this shipping, of course, came a huge following and obsessed, loving fan base for you and Paige. Fans ate up the aesthetic posts that graced your instagram feed, your occasional but always viral tiktoks, and your carefully curated list of public playlists on spotify and apple music (some that fans noticed had paige's favorite songs on).

And yet, you never outright addressed the rumors, despite your tiktok reposts hinting at the fact that you were dating someone, and small sly remarks occasionally dropped on KK's live hinting at your taken status, you and Paige had never found the need to publicly announce your relationship, reveling in the privacy you two were able to maintain while (badly) keeping it a secret.

That is, up until about a month ago. With the difficult conversation of whether Paige would enter the draft or stay another year at UConn, the possibility of long distance and what the future of your relationship would look like, you and Paige decided that you would make the most out of the last year you had together at university, and that included being able to publicly love up on your girlfriend.

Though you had never decided when and how to announce your relationship, agreeing that you would just go with the flow when it seemed right, Paige had a different idea in mind at how to hard launch your relationship to the rest of the world.

A random KK Arnold live in the middle of your junior year

"Y/n/n, the live wants to see more of you. They just can't get enough of you girly pop, they in loveeee," KK sang out, knowing the reason you so scarcely appeared on her lives was the fact that you were just a little camera shy, not used to constantly being in front of the media like the girls on the team were.

"KK I'm literally bare-faced in pajamas," you whispered from behind the camera, scratching the side of your face as you glanced at Paige sitting next to her.

"Girl boo, ain't no one care. You look good either way, just come say hi to the fans," she insisted, trying to ease you out your shell. Everyone on the team knew what an outgoing social butterfly you were, but social media had always intimidated you to a certain extent, which is why you preferred being behind the camera rather than in front of it.

You glanced at Paige again, who nodded encouragingly and scooted to the side, opening a space for you to take a seat between the two girls.

You sighed as you made your way to the couch, sitting criss-crossed between the two basketball players as KK's arm immediately swung to rest around your shoulders, happily introducing you to her live.

"Y'all if you don't know Miss Y/N, you should. She's our little camera girl and gets us right, EVERY TIME. I don't know if I can allow her to leave after next year because she's the only person out here that actually gets my angles right. Plus, we all in her little bougie apartment right now, y'all don't understand that she lives better than all of us here," You smiled at KK's rambling, she was one of the younger girls you had a particular soft spot for, and she always referred to you and Paige as her parents with how close you guys were.

"Okay so boom, let's do a little q and a with y/n so y'all can get to know who she is. You ready?" She turned to you, fake holding an imaginary mic in her hand as she got ready to "interview" you.

"Well if the fans want to know, who am I to say no?" You shrugged, loosening up a little with how infectious KK's energy was.

"Okay bars, let's start off with what the people want to know," she scanned over the influx of comments coming in to the livestream, picking out a few before turning back to you.

"Easy one first since apparently no one here pays attention to what I say, who are you and why do you know us?" She side-eyed the camera, pretending to be annoyed that people didn't listen to her explanation the first time. Paige sat silently next to you, doing her best to not stare at you lovingly on camera, knowing how intricately fans analyzed any of your interactions together.

"I'm y/n l/n and I'm one of the photographers for the women's basketball team. Have been since I was a freshman, and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon, so y'all are stuck with me," you proceeded to stick your tongue out at Aubrey, who was all the way in the edge of the live's background, but still visible as she pretended to choke herself at the mention of you staying for the next two years.

"Anyways, hmmm," you leaned in to the camera slightly, reading over the questions to find an appropriate one to answer.

"Oh my favorite color, that's literally one of the easiest questions ever. Pink, no doubt about it. I have so many pink things in my apartment."

"Someone said, you should give a little pink tour, you could show them your like matcha station thing and your bedroom, it's like a unicorn threw up pink in there. Plus all your little stuffed animals," KK joked, making fun of your obsession with the color.

"Maybe next time guys, going straight to the bedroom the first time we meet is crazyyy," you teased, inciting laughter from multiple of the girls lounging around you living room.

"Yo chilll," Paige quipped, gently tapping your knee with the back of her hand as she smirked up at you from her slouched position against your couch cushions.

You raised an eyebrow at her teasingly, giggling as you break off her gaze to return your attention back to the live.

"Which one of your stuffed animals is your favorite? Okay so for the most part they're all Jellycats, or like the weighted dinosaurs from Target, but my favorite by far is my little Jellycat bouquet of flowers, it's the cutest thing I’ve ever been gifted," You smiled, excited to talk about a part of your life that the viewers didn't know was about Paige.

When you first came to UConn, you only brought one stuffed animal with you from your vast childhood collection at home, the little pink bunny from Jellycat. But over the past three years, your college collection had grown solely due to the gifts Paige bought you, knowing how much you loved having those parts of her at night when she couldn't make it for some reason or was at away games you weren't scheduled for.

You continued to scan over the comments, doing your best to bite back a smile at the ones freaking out over you and Paige. You were used to it by now, but the thrill of secrecy never failed to make your heart race.

Back to present

Walking up to the steps of your apartment, you had no clue what surprise Paige had prepared for you, as you weren't expecting her to fly back until tomorrow. But when Brittany had called Paige to discuss the game plan for the teams upcoming shoot with a semi permanent hair dye brand, Paige immediately knew the perfect surprise to greet you with after your long separation due to her “world tour”.

Originally, the two of you were supposed to travel together, using the trip as a hard launch, but after some last minute issues with your time off with work and the busy schedule they crammed onto you, you decided it would be best to stay back while Paige enjoyed her solo tour, even though it was far from easy.

The two of you were constantly texting and calling whenever you found a spare minute in your busy days, and it was the only thing keeping you sane the last two weeks. And when you said constantly texting, you meant it.

And apparently, even Paige's friends recognized how down bad she was without you, after Flaujae exposed her for cheesing at her phone while texting you at the WNBA All-Star game, which you immediately found out about by the influx of comments tagging you, questioning if you were the person responsible. You were, of course, but they didn't need to know that. At least for now, to your knowledge at least.

Opening the door to your apartment, you set your shoes down on the neat rack you had set up, hanging up your keys on the wall above it as you made your way to your bedroom, unsuspecting as to what awaited you.

"Oh my god," you shrieked, processing the sight that greeted you as you reached right outside the door frame, mouth agape as your eyes took in the figure perched by the edge of your neatly made, pink bed, grinning at your shocked expression.

"Paige what the fuck, oh my god. You're here, you're pink, what the hell," you exclaimed hurriedly, rushing into your room to envelop your girlfriend in a tight hug, wrapping your arms around her neck as she encircled your waist.

She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, angling her head up from your stomach so she could speak directly to you.

"Hey baby, you like it?" She grinned, pleased with the way your night was about to play out.

"You're so pink what the hell, when did you even find time to do this?" You questioned, running your fingers through her freshly dyed pink hair, in awe of the way your girlfriend could pull off just literally any look.

"Right before I left LA, figured if I was gonna dye my hair for the shoot I might as well make it my girl's favorite color yeah? But like, it looks good right?"

You raised an eyebrow at her not so subtle dig at you not answering her question, needing the validation from you to approve her new look.

You thought about your response for a second, going back and forth between teasing her a little, just to pull on her leg for shits and giggles, or just fawning over her the way you've been dying to do since she left the warmth of your embrace.

But, inevitable your longing to shower her in compliments and kisses overpowered any need to pester her, and it clearly showed on your face as your mouth broke out in a wide smile.

"You look so pretty baby. On God. Literally the most beautiful girlfriend ever," you gushed, tucking the front pieces of her hair behind her ears so you could take a look at her new piercings as well.

You had quite a few ear piercings from when you were bored in high school, the glint of gold jewelry along your ear almost always prominent since you wore majority of the earrings 24/7, and Paige would be lying if she said her piercings weren’t slightly inspired by yours.

“And these as well?” You teased, referring to her helix and seconds. “So sexy, truly P,” you nodded at her, grinning wide as you leaned down for a kiss.

You sighed against Paige’s lips, forgoing the teasing demeanor you held as you felt the craving for her subside, eager to finally have her back in your arms. Your mouth moved hungrily against hers, using one hand to grasp at her jaw and the other at the base of her neck, holding her tight in a desperate attempt to re-memorize the taste of her lips.

Paige’s grip on your waist tightened, before one hand left to travel down to your ass, playfully smacking your left cheek before grabbing onto the fat to pull you in closer to her, her intentions to drag you onto the bed next to her clear.

You whined as you broke away from her kiss, resisting her attempt to pull you down as you pouted down at her.

“No outside clothes on the bed Paige, I need to go shower first,” you insisted, rubbing your thumb against her cheek.

“You know lucky for me I have quite a bit of free time right now, and an extra shower never hurt anybody,” she quipped back, unwilling to separate from your presence now that she finally had you.

“Yeah?” You smirked, grabbing her hand as you led her outside your room and into the bathroom across the hall.

The Next Day; UConn women’s locker room (i think?)

You glanced up from your phone, watching as Paige moved around the locker room, posing with Ice, Azzi, Morgan, and Carol, setting her phone lower so the camera couldn't see anyone but her.

She raised her eyebrow at you questioningly, silently asking whether you wanted to be shown on the live from your seat in the corner of the locker.

You nodded at her, beckoning her over to sit next to you as you set your phone down, smiling at her as she made her way over to you.

“Since y’all wanna know why I chose pink, thought it was obvious but apparently not,”

She extended her arm outwards so that both of your bodies could easily fit in the frame of the camera.

“You know I had to make it my girl’s favorite color, now all that’s left is for y/n to do hers purple,” She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, making sure you were okay with how easily she referred to you as “her girl” in front of the thousands of viewers.

“Just cause you look pretty in pink does not mean I’m dying my hair purple Paige, I can’t pull all that off like you can baby,” you flirted shamelessly, running your fingers through your hair as you smirked at the blush that rose to her cheeks at your very public display.

“Aight not too much now,” She rose from her seat, patting your thigh off camera as she walked over to Brittany, cheesing and blushing hard as she avoided looking down at the camera until she posed with Brittany, smiling as her eyes skimmed over the flood of shocked and astonished comments regarding your relationship.

“Yeah that’s my girl, what ‘bout it?”

Let’s just say following Paige’s live and your respective hard launch posts on instagram, your phone has never and probably will never again experience such a quick and constant rush of notifications over the span of four days.

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed!!

[mrabubu]

/the ref is a bit old, but the info is mostly accurate/

So, I did kinda sketch ref for my Kraang character and make her more of a person, or something, with a name and all. I'm still going to use they/them pronounce and Y/N when people will be asking something about Krangified AU.

More information about her below.

So, her name is Ana now.

About her personality before she was turned into the Kraang zombie I still can't say much at the moment (because I'm mostly focused on their interactions in the present timeline), except for her being the person who was genuinely worried about Leo and what's been going on in his head. She saw his attitude and for her it was obvious it was mostly a facade to hide his real emotions and wanted to help him, being a shoulder to lean on. I see her being the weirdo to others that found his jokes actually funny.

After Kraangification, I can describe her with one word: DEPRESSION. I mean, you've been a mindless zombie for about 10 years that practically flashed before your eyes. You wake up facing the facts that the world has been at war with the Kraang for all this time, everyone you knew grew up, your family is long gone, your boyfriend been through hell and lost his arm, and, yeah, your still kinda a zombie also facing some self-control issues. Your Kraang half is taking control over you from time to time, attacking others and even friends if provoked. Not to mention that a lot of things that used to be casual to you are now something you need to learn to be used to again, like bed or actual food. Yeah and also that little inconvenience that she has to eat people now.

She's been dozing off a lot at first, after Leo got her to their base, just staring at one point, processing the whole situation and still feeling like it's just a very long nightmare. And only Leo could snap her out of this state at least for a short amount of time.

When I've been making first sketches with her I gave her this pointed ear and horn like Kraang appendage on her forehead, and thought this kinda reminded of oni's (demons) from Japanese folklore, which kinda resonated with this whole Kraang AU concept.

I also can't stop thinking about Beauty and the Beast (original Disney animated movie) concept, only with them swapping roles in contrast to the original story.

I really like the concept of the turtles being able to make this chirping and churring sounds, and thought, why can't she make something like this? So, yeah, she can churp and purr (I don't know if there's a difference between churring and purring, still didn't understand, and this churring sound is still mostly fictional, fanon thing..? but, anyway). I like this idea of Leo and Ana being able to communicate with the language only they (and other turtles) understand.

A few more sketches with her and a couple of scenes.

Her claws on the Kraang arm can extend. I thought about her being able to shapeshift her arm further, but for now it's either extended claws, or something like a sword or some other sharp pointy thing...

I've been thinking about her fighting style, and for a reference I used the The Witcher 3 again (yeah) There's a vampire species, Bruxa and Alp, and I'm thinking her fighting style would be something like of an Alp. Fast and agile, also pretty strong (tho still not strong enough to take out big enemies like the Kraang in their suits).

I have this scene in my head that I actually been sketching already, where she's fighting the Kraang hounds, and pretty much able to lift one grabbing it by it's throat and throwing it into the tree like a rag doll.

Another thing is her screech she uses to intimidate/immobilize her enemies. It's also more of an alp than bruxa, especially in this video time code 00:36, this is pretty much how I imagine it.

I also know that I've messed up her eyes when she's in her Kraang mode, because they should be turning purple, like Raph's left eye that wasn't covered by Kraang flesh, but, uuuh, I don't want to change that at this point...

I think that's it for now...? If I'll have more ideas I'll either be making other posts, or updating this one.

[lorelune]

(continuation of this piece. part ii of regency au with jing yuan)

"he needs to stop doing this."

you tell lord luocha this as you stumble out of your one room cottage, desperately attempting to smooth down your day gown. your palms shake as you do and you shoot your patron an angry look.

lord luocha looks perfectly passive, painfully neutral with a hint of mirth. the bastard. "i think it's quite appropriate for the general to call upon you this hour of the day. i thought you would be prepared."

"i am not an 'eligible lady' as i am so often reminded," you shake your head. "i cannot constantly be ready to take his company, just because it's before supper. be reasonable, my lord. speak with him about this."

"perhaps," luocha tilts his head with the barest hint of a smile. "i'll consider it. for now, why don't you go greet our guest? i'll have some refreshments sent in."

"fine." you say. your voice wavers.

this is not the first time the retired general, Jing Yuan, has called upon you. it's more like the fifth. maybe sixth. it is more frightening to keep count of his increasingly frequently visits (as they clearly indicate some type of explicit interest), so you stopped counting them recently. peace of mind and all.

you enter the drawing with and bow to the general without thinking, "good afternoon, general."

"likewise," he says easily, voice so deep and rich; it makes your insides feel wobbly.

jing yuan sits on one of the loveseats, legs tastefully spread and in some amount of regalia. well-dressed, certainly. his hair is half-tied up as he so favors, and his face has a healthy amount of blush. a crisp jaw. bulging forearms and thighs beneath his various dressings. a broad chest. it is hard not to ogle him overtly. you train your gaze on the hand-tufted rug before rising and daintily (as you can) sit across from him on the other side of the loveseat. you tuck your legs to the side, barely remembering to not fully fold them under yourself. decorum and all.

(it feels foolish. jing yuan hardly seem to care. lord luocha thinks your bumbling is amusing.)

"i apologize for the intrusion," he says. he squeezes his hands into loose fists. you don't miss the action. "will you indulge me for a time?"

"i'm already here, aren't i?" you quip back, tone light. easy. "i don't mind the company."

there's more you could say—

("general, i think you are so very kind and thoughtful. thank you for spending your spare time with me.")

("general, i am sorry i can't attend any of the balls and festivities as anything more than a performer. i would not mind being on your arm, if circumstances were different, and you desired it so".)

("general, how much longer will you entertain this? are you intending to steal my heart, only to break it?"

instead, you remain quiet, picking at your nailbeds. jing yuan watches you with a hum. flexes his hands.

"are you working on any new pieces?" he asks.

"a few, actually." you reply. "the muses have been kind to me."

"oh?" he smiles. he tilts his head cutely, almost boyish, despite his age. "may i ask the subject matter?"

"ah—" you feel your face heat. "a number of things. subject matters. a varying themes."

truthfully, you have started four new paintings in the last week. all of which were started in moments of such deep inspirations, they had you painting and laying base colors from sunrise until sunset. it just so happens that these... works have. a clear theme. that of the general.

(during his second visit, he commented on the blooming azaleas. you've been obsessed with perfecting the shape of their petals. his third visit, you sat on the same seat as him. you were so much closer then, and found yourself lost in the honey color of his eyes. the punch of purple underneath them, an accumulation of sleepless nights. another is of a lion, like that of his crest. the final is a portrait of him that has you committing every bit of him to memory. perhaps you'll be able to capture his likeness with your memory if the muses continue to favor you.)

"you're quite the varied artist." he leans his jaw on his fist. "your dedication to your craft is most admirable."

"i cannot help the ways in which inspiration forces me to act," or, to thirst over the man in front of you. god forbid a parched man be given drink so fine. you shake your head. "i have had... some amount of increased, enjoyable, new interactions over the past while. i suppose i'm feeling invigored."

"oh?" jing yuan looks smitten. his eyes go half-lidded. "may i guess the source of your inspiration?"

"if you do, you'll only embarrass me."

"so, you think i will be right in my guess then?"

"i know so." you roll your eyes, sheepish. "i am not foolish enough to think i could hide face and play games with the Divine Foresight and win."

"you underestimate yourself."

"hardly. have you... met yourself, general?"

"often, frequently." he nods to himself. he catches your gaze. it's piercing. "i find myself in the mirror, often, these days. i tell myself that i am spry enough and have retained enough charm through my years to properly court and woo the recluse, genius artist i have been stealing time from. i meet the man in my mirror and think that he is quite clever, but tends to underestimate you as well."

your breath is caught in your chest. you scrunch the skirt of your dress up in your palms and swallow.

"the general speaks freely and foolishly."

"and yet, i do not lie."

"... you are brazen."

"do you not require such treatment?" jing yuan laughs sweetly. "if i were any more gentle with you, you would've already retreated far into your lord's gardens. i wouldn't hope to see you again. you will need to forgive me for my shamelessness."

"... i could perhaps be convinced." you scoot closer on the love seat. you should. create space away from him. before you do something stupid and unbecoming. but you find yourself drawn closer. "the general is a kind man. good-hearted."

"such a charitable assessment."

"i know it to be true." you do know. the man keeps his own gardens, tends them himself. he pays his servants good wages and left war and bloodshed behind sometime ago. "i would like to get to know his good heart more."

jing yuan steels himself then. you watch it happen. his spine straightens, his throat bobs. sweat beads at his temples, you now notice. his keeps his hands in his lap, wringing them together.

"then we are in agreement?"

"... only if the general treats me well." you stumble over your words. "only if you treat me well, general."

"jing yuan, please."

"fine. jing yuan, then." it takes everything in you not to reach for his hands. your last threads of civility barely remaining. "will you treat me well, jing yuan?"

he breathes. you feel the warm exhale of it fan over your cheeks. your gaze drops to the softness of his bottom lip.

"only the best, for you."

"so, you're smitten with me?"

"simply struck." he gulps. you need him, you decide, decorum be damned. you lean forward, just as he does. you can hear the tremor of your breath in time with his—

the door the drawing room opens, suddenly, with a resounding thud. you jump away from the general, a hand over your heart. you attempt to not noticeably pant, though you perhaps fail. lord luocha raises a knowing eyebrow as a few of his staff bring in a platter of a small treats and bubbly drinks in fluted glasses.

"forgive the intrusion," luocha places a hand on jing yuan's shoulder. the general straightens up. "i figured that you two must be in need some of refreshments. may i suggest a walk in the garden, later? perhaps, you could show him your herb patches, [name]."

lord luocha shoots you a knowing look.

(said patch of herbs is just outside of your cottage. a good distance away from the main estate.)

"i'd love to." you swallow and shake your head. "if the general will deign to spend a bit more time with me."

jing yuan looks at you, really looks at you, and smiles. it is an honest, genuine thing. you are glad luocha is at his back, so only you can see the earnest of it. it is something special, you think, just for you.

"as much as you will allow me."

and you will give him as much as you can muster.

[targaryen-dynasty]

THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE.

Antichrist!Aemond Targaryen x female Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; dub con, p in v, fingering (with gloves 😮‍💨), dacryphilia, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, power imbalance, female reader

WORDS: 4.7 K

NOTES: Yes, this is based on American Horror Story Apocalypse. Michael Langdon is just so *phew* that I had to adapt it to Aemond. This is so self indulgent, I'm not even sorry. @kaelabear you're getting the special taglist. @arcielee thank you for beta reading this! <3

You have lost track of how many days, months, or even years have passed since your arrival in Outpost 3, and gods, you’d give it all right away to be back in one of the holding cells the government had put you in around the time the bombs rained down over King’s Landing. 

Even though you received the status as a purple upon your arrival, therefore placing you to the upper-class elites specifically selected for survival, you couldn’t be worse off. At least there you’ve been allowed to do your own thing – as far as the confines allowed you to. 

The nutritional cubes they serve you are rationed, with Ms. Misery announcing they’ll have to ration them even further in the next days, and on top of being hungry and bored, you haven’t had a good fuck in quite the while. 

Sexual contact, or any kind of copulation, is strictly forbidden, and you’ve witnessed firsthand what it means to break Miserys’ rules – not that you’d make any moves on the other residents occupying the former exclusive boys school anyways. 

It’s only been you and your hand, sometimes even your pillow, from the very beginning on until now, and truth be told? You’re sick of it. 

At some point you’ve stopped getting yourself off, only because your body longed for physical contact, for someone else’s body on your own. 

And what certainly doesn’t help with your misery is the mysterious man that arrived just a few days ago. 

When he introduced himself as Targaryen, you knew his arrival was something that came partnered with power. As much as you would have liked to focus on his speech to campaign himself, you found it was far too difficult to care about humanity being on the brink of failure when the man telling you about it was so, so damn easy on the eyes.

Just the sight of his sharp features, regardless of a part of them being concealed by a black eyepatch, has been enough to make your mouth water. And when your eyes traveled lower, taking in the way his black slacks all but hugged his toned thighs, all was lost for you. 

You’ve been grateful that Laenor pounced on him to be interviewed first, wanting to see if he'd be worthy enough to be relocated to the so-called sanctuary, because you certainly would have jumped Targaryens’ bones right then and there. 

His alluring aura, the dominance radiating off of him – it all are factors that drive your aching body to insanity. and the nights that followed you found your relief more than once with the image of him flashing right before your eyes. 

Some time has passed in which you’ve barely seen him around, only hearing of him through the stories of the other residents that have been interviewed by him; now it’s your turn to warm the large chair standing in front of the imposing Mahogany desk. 

It’s the door behind you sliding open that lets your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from turning around. You don’t want to be caught staring in the first few seconds already. 

You hear your name fall past his lips so smoothly it sends a shiver down your spine. You give in to the temptation and watch him step inside with an air of mellow gratification, prowling around the desk until he eventually sits down in the empty seat across from you.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he purrs, a glint of mischief dancing in his eye. 

There comes no reply from you, instead you continue to fumble with your fingers, looking at what you assume to be your file splayed out on the desk in front of him. 

It’s the dismissive hum that rumbles in his chest that finally piques your interest, and when your gaze settles on him again, you spot him touch his chin thoughtfully as his eye skimps over the pages, seeming as if he’s reading it for the first time. 

The red gloves he wears stand in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless rest of his outfit, your gaze drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He has worn them upon his arrival already; the smooth leather shining in the dim light of the candles makes your mind wander to more indecent things. 

He tilts his head up again to meet your gaze, his smooth and calming voice ringing out. “Your genetic profile would appear to be favorable, so you can say that this interview is solely conducted as a… precaution.” Though it’s meant to be reassuring, the deliberate pause he makes doesn’t seem convincing. 

His words make you frown. “What for?” you ask, and you curse yourself for how blunt and bold your voice sounds. “Aren’t you in need of relocating the last few people that pass on good genes, now that this is the last outpost standing?” 

The genuine laugh he offers you prompts you to lean back in your seat, juxtaposing the way he leans forwards in his. Something in the arrogance that radiates off of him, and the smug smirk he has on his lips, feeds your irritation. 

“Doesn’t seem like you can afford to be picky,” you snap back at him. 

He licks his lips, and although it’s not longer than a second, your mind immediately drifts off to think about how it would feel between your legs, how he would feel between them. You try to be subtle as you shift in your seat, barely moving enough to soothe the aching that blooms at the apex of them. 

“We’re making the selections as carefully as possible,” he counters. The paper of your file is pinched between his index and thumb, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers. “We need to ensure the survival of humanity, and I’m sure you understand that we have to look for a certain level of ambition in the people we choose.”

Even though his explanation is vague, and doesn’t make much sense to you, it is strangely appealing. The word ambition is such a broad term that could mean anything from career-minded to cutthroat, yet you still have to figure out exactly what he means. 

The tension grows thicker and thicker with each passing second of silence, and you feel a warm sensation spreading inside of you from his intense gaze – which is perhaps also due to the hint of desire that gleams in his eye as he regards you. 

You try your best to ignore the way your heart races, wanting to diminish the warmth inside of you. But to no avail. 

When he rises from his seat, your heart drops into your stomach again, and your eyes grow wide with curiosity and intrigue. 

It’s a brief flicker of your eyes down his body that has you squeezing your thighs together, far too distracted by how tall he is than to notice the smug smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. 

“Would you say that you’ve… settled here?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of something you find difficult to decipher.  

He slowly stalks around the desk, the tips of his leather-clad fingers smoothly gliding over the dark wood. His eye lingers on your face, taking you in and assessing your reaction. His expression holds the same edge of darkness his voice does, though he isn’t hiding it as effectively as he thinks he is this time. 

Your eyes never leave his frame when he comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the desk. He’s gripping the edge of it, and even in the dim light of the candles, you notice that it’s rather tightly, almost as if he’s suppressing the urge to touch you. 

“Well, I suppose I’ve managed to adjust,” you reply. 

For a brief moment, neither of you says anything. He just stares at you with this cold precision – until you catch his eye flitting lower, trailing over your form. 

The purple gown you wear isn’t revealing at all, not that Ms. Misery would allow you to wear anything of that sort anyways. The neckline is squared with raised yet off-the-shoulder structured shoulders that leave little to the imagination – but only if you’ve been touch deprived for long enough.

And, judging by the way his jaw clenches as his eye meets yours again, you can tell it’s also been a while for him. 

The thought of it makes your blood run hot, the warmth now spreading to your cheeks. Your gaze falls to your lap, watching your fingers fumble with each other while you feel his bore into your frame. 

There’s a hum rumbling in his chest once again, but this time it sounds more like a purr, as if he finds satisfaction in your nervousness. “Are you normally this flustered in front of men… or is it just me?”

A sudden rush of excitement and embarrassment floods your veins as your mind processes his words; your head snaps back up to look at him, and you’re greeted by a teasing grin. 

“I’m not flustered,” you reply, your voice only wavering slightly, yet you know that it’s clear to him that you’re not being very honest. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you. 

He tsks, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I mean, I can see you,” he says, gesturing to you with his hand. “You’re licking your lips, you can’t meet my eyes for more than a few seconds, your cheeks are flushed – it’s clear your body yearns to be touched…” he trails off, smirking to himself as he briefly glances to the ground. “... by me.”

His statement catches you off-guard. A quick exhale from your nose leaves you feeling winded with the sensations of butterflies wreaking havoc within your body. 

The silence between you lingers, heavy and thick as you ponder over his words, and you decide to go all in. You glance at him sideways, before speaking. “Is that so?”

His eye darkens at your coy demeanor, and with the corners of his quirking up into a sly smirk, he reveals just a glimpse of the devil that lurks beneath the angelic exterior. “Oh, it is,” he replies with a mocking tone. “I know you’re getting off to the thoughts of me at night, sweet thing. And even right now, you’re dripping for me. It’s almost pathetic.”

He almost seems relieved as he finally reaches to trace a gentle line over your exposed shoulder, starting at the crook of your neck. His light touch and the coldness of his gloves cause you to shiver involuntarily, and makes your breathing heavy. 

As if he’s searching for something within yours, his eye narrows, and your mind races with the possibility of what such a look might signify. 

“Look at you,” he purrs, licking his pouty lips. “You’re sitting here, just waiting for me to take things a step further – all the while I could smell that sweet pussy of yours ever since I’ve stepped into the room.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words, making it difficult to swallow, and you feel yourself clench around nothing; the urge to squirm in your seat is nearly overwhelming. 

“That sweet scent of yours…” he trails off. Mesmerized by his words and confidence, you almost flinch when he pushes himself off the desk, slowly kneeling down to be on a level with you, hovering close to you like a predator pretending to pounce. 

Your breath is heavy, and with your body still facing the desk, you’re forced to turn your head to the side to meet his gaze. There are mere inches between your faces now, and you feel his minty breath fan over your lips, swollen from how often you've licked them at this point. 

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, and heat follows where the cold leather of his gloves ghosted over your skin. “So desperate to be touched… to be filled,” he hums. While embarrassment blossoms inside of you, there’s no amusement laced within his silky voice. It’s as if he’s just stating facts. “Or am I mistaken?” Your name topples past his lips with so much ease, it makes you imagine how it would sound moaned by him.

Your head begins to swim. His scent, his domineering aura, the warmth emanating off of him – it’s all too much and not enough. 

Meekly shaking your head, the ‘no’ you reply comes out not louder than a whisper. 

He takes in a quick breath of air, relishing in his victory. The way you submit to him, to his power and dominance, feeds something within him; a hunger that’s been growing more and more demanding from the moment he stepped into the room with you. 

“Good girl,” he purrs, slowly rising to his full height, stretching his fingers as he keeps his eye locked on you. A flush spreads over your cheeks at his praise, the subconscious urge to make him proud sending a shiver of excitement through your veins, feeding right into your desire to please him. 

He’s standing again, letting his eye drift over your sitting frame for a moment too long, trailing down your neck, over the curves of your breasts, and settling in your lap. A gloved hand comes forward to pinch the skirts of your gown between his fingers, an almost disgusted look on his features. 

“Take it off.”

“W-What?” 

“W-w-what?” he mocks, the scoff he releases filling you with shame. “Take it off,” he repeats. “Or else I will take it off of you, and that won’t be any more pleasant.”

The thought of him undressing you seems tempting. A small part of you wants to protest, to say something along the lines of ‘you can’t just demand something like this’ but the other part craves this. It feels as if it’s quintessential for your body to survive, not able to go one day longer without being touched at all. 

Rising to your feet, you smooth out the skirts of your dress before craning your neck to look up at him. He’s towering over you, hardly stepping back far enough to create any space for you to undress. 

Having always been a bit of a pain to put on, getting out of the dress was even worse. The tight fit and squared neckline leaves you with very limited mobility, meaning you’re always relying on a servant to help you get out of it. And facing these difficulties, the thought of removing it all by yourself, especially in front of him, seems almost sacrilegious. 

A thought pops into your mind, and your body is quick enough to get through with it before you can even think about it properly. 

“Care to help me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. Before he can refuse, you brush your hair over one shoulder and turn around, presenting him with your back and the tightly laced corset. 

Much to your surprise, he doesn’t refuse, and you say nothing as his fingers find the lacing of your corset, gloves brushing your skin as he slowly undos the laces. 

It’s a slow process, one that builds anticipation within you, and has you squeezing your thighs together yet again. 

His caresses are light and careful at first, but they grow increasingly firm and forceful. Each tug and pull draws you closer to him, and only when you hear the same dismissive hum rumbling in his chest do you dare to glimpse at him from over your shoulder, seeing him staring at your back with his jaw set with a new purpose. 

The fabric is still pinched between his fingers when they suddenly change course, gripping the purple fabric around the lace with a bit more force than necessary. He rips open the corset in a single, harsh motion in a clear display of his impatience, the torn fabric hitting the ground with a thud, and your gown quickly follows suit. 

For a moment, you feel relief at being freed from its confines. But it’s fleeting, your skin immediately prickling as you become aware of how much of your body is exposed to him now. 

It’s weird to think that this thin layer of modesty has been enough to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, and now it’s peeled away with you knowing he’s gazing at you as if he’s been served his first meal in months. 

Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity as you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as he advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in. 

His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or kept them at his sides. You can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body, his cock rock hard and all but straining against your lower back, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation as you do.

His proximity is all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment. 

“Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger. 

Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.”

“Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”

You tip your head back in frustration, meeting with his shoulder, a loud huff slipping past your lips. But you’re so close to getting what you want, there’s no way you’re giving up already. 

“Please, please touch me… Mr. Targaryen.” His name is spoken with a bit of hesitation. “I-I- please, fuck, need it so, so bad. Please.” That you’re not stomping your feet on the ground like an insolent child is everything, knowing it would push your chance for relief further away. 

But it seems to do the trick, because one gloved hand settles on your hip without him saying anything, while the other clasps around the outside of your thigh, his thumb brushing smooth patterns over your hot skin. 

He drags his nose along the side of your face, his breath tickling your skin, and you slightly turn your head to lean into it. “Where else do you want me to touch, mh?”

Feeling him on every inch of your body has you far too aroused to be frustrated by his on-going teasing and stalling. “Right…” you pant, peeling his hand from your hip to bring it down between your legs, “... here.”

A quiet whine slips past your lips as his fingers make contact with your sensitive clit, the cold leather of his gloves against your hot skin striking you as a welcome surprise and sending a shiver down your spine. It feels foreign, but nice nevertheless.  

You’ve fully anticipated him to pull back again, to leave you high and dry, but he surprises you again, when he drags his fingers through your swollen folds. 

“Right here, mh?” he purrs into your ear with a husky voice. 

It’s a grazing touch that alone is enough to make your mind hazy, merely humming in return. 

He’s not doing more than rubbing your clit and brushing his digits through your folds, but you’re wet enough already for it to be audible. The squelching sounds coming from between your legs are embarrassing, clearly highlighting your desperation for him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside of you. 

Taking in a sharp breath, you hold onto the desk again. “God, fuck,” you whine. 

His finger is thick enough to be accompanied with a slight burning stretch, intensifying the moment he adds another. You can’t resist the urge to grind against his hand, the base of it applying just enough pressure to your clit to numb any discomfort. 

“You like that, mh?” he rasps. “So fucking wet and desperate for my fingers, dripping all over my glove.”

A string of whiny yesses leaves your lips as the pace of his fingers increases, making it incredibly difficult for your hips to maintain the rhythm. 

Heavy breaths and pants fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on and bringing you closer to the sweet relief you’ve craved for so long. He seems to sense your impending orgasm, and works you just a moment longer, before he withdraws his fingers from you, making sure the loss would make it even worse. 

But there’s no time to whine. 

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he teases, acting as if he’s completely oblivious to the torture he puts you through, and brings his gloved hand up to your face. 

The red leather is covered in your arousal, sticky and glistening even in the dim light. As he spreads the two fingers, a few strings of it connect the leather, and you bite your bottom lip, knowing all too well what might follow. 

“Open your mouth, pet,” he commands in a stern voice. “Clean up your mess.” 

And you comply, parting your lips and eagerly embracing him pushing them inside. Your tongue swirls around the digits, the leather tasting and feeling completely different on your tongue. 

You hardly notice that his other hand has left your thigh, and even less that he’s undoing the zipper of his slacks, pulling out his hard cock. Only when you feel the pressure against your entrance do your eyes widen, and you whine around his fingers as he pushes inside. 

Even though you are stretched from his digits, it can not compare to his cock. 

He’s filling you to the brim in one, swift thrust, and with you being gagged by his gloved fingers, you can’t do more than mewl and moan. “Fuck, tight cunt taking my cock, hm? That’s it, such a good, little pet.”

Not giving you the chance to adjust to his size, he sets up a reckless pace from the very start, his impatience running thin with the way your tightness embraces him. He fucks you as if it’s a one time thing, as if you won’t make the cut, but something inside of you tells you this is merely the beginning. 

Saliva trickles down your chin as his cock drives deeper and deeper, forcing moan after moan past your lips and his gloved fingers. It’s the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your muffled whines filling the room, and if Ms. Misery were to find out, you would be tortured or killed even before the next day arrived. 

Maybe it’s the risk of being caught that drives him to his next step, but he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, gloved hand coming down to rest around your throat instead. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking.

You scramble for hold, sweaty palms planted flatly on the wooden surface in front of you, supporting yourself as the man behind you all but fucked every coherent thought out of your brain. 

“Look at you,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself. “All you’ve been thinking about was my cock. So desperate to be fucked by me, huh?”

You are so full with him, his scent, his warmth, everything, that breathy whines and yesses are the only things slipping past your lips. 

He drags his nose along the side of your face, clearly relishing in the way he’s fucked you dumb with so little effort already, and you almost feel yourself come on spot the moment he presses his lips to your earlobe. 

Pushing his hips all the way into yours, he stills them for a moment, bringing up a gloved hand to spit on his fingers and before dragging them harshly over your sensitive clit, and putting you straight into a frenzy. 

The tears that were brimming in your eyes now spill and run down your flushed cheeks, hitting the desk he has you hunched over. 

“No need to cry, pet,” the man behind you drawls, a satisfaction weaved in his husky voice. “You wanted this, didn't you? Wanted my cock to fuck you stupid? Or do you want me to stop?”

Your blank mind barely processes his words, but just hearing the word stop has you finding your voice again. “N-no,” you whine, arching your back and pressing your ass back against him. “Don’t-don’t stop, Sir. ‘M so, so close.”

“Close, mh? Then fucking come for me.”

With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his fingers strumming your clit in a reckless pattern, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release hits you suddenly. 

His strained groans are hushed against your neck as you spasm around him, sucking him in hungrily. He works you through it, fucking you as you quiver and shake. Grinding against him, you ride your high out in rhythm with his thrusts, gasping each time his cock pistones inside of you. 

His hips falter slightly for a moment, caught off guard by how tightly your walls are squeezing him, but he regains his composure and sets up a brutal pace again. You’re swollen and raw by now, but he doesn't stop. 

“That’s it, fuck, I’m gonna get this pathetic cunt stuffed with my cum,” he grunts, pulling his hand from your clit to plant it on your hip. 

Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling, the tears on your cheeks now dry. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the desk, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding. 

With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He fucks it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.

A strained groan is audible as he pulls out, tucking himself back in his slacks, and assumes the cold demeanor he’s had before. The only courtesy he grants you is picking up your dress and underwear he’s torn off you before, holding it out for you to take. 

You get the cue, and dress yourself on trembling legs. The blonde watches curiously, leaning back against the desk again. The red gloves now lay on the desk, and you catch a glimpse of his long, ring-clad fingers. 

With flushed cheeks, you briefly look at the ground before presenting him your back again. “Do you mind?” 

He nods and steps towards you, silently lacing up your corset, and whenever his skin brushes yours, a shiver runs down your spine. His skin is soft, smooth even, and the warmth emanating from them is far more pleasant than the cold leather.

But the moment is fleeting as he quickly moves to sit down behind his desk again, a new file already pinched between his fingers. You smoothen out the skirt of your dress, merely bowing your head once, and make a beeline for the door. 

It’s his voice ringing out that stops you in your tracks, though you don’t dare to turn around. 

“I expect you to come back for your second interview tomorrow. See it as an opportunity for me to gauge whether or not you truly have the right… ambition.”

“Thank you, Mr. Targaryen,” you mumble in return, a strange sense of satisfaction and anticipation already coursing through your veins. 

Hearing your name once again, you turn your head to look at him. “There’s no need to be formal when it’s just us. You can call me Aemond.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @connorsui @valeskafics

[brattyfork]

drank

summary: matt n his brothers go to a party. he has fun but he missed you.

warnings: drunk sex, sub!matt+mommy kink lol

based on this request!

way back when, when matt and i first started having sex and figuring out our safe word, something interesting came up.

“what if i’m drunk?” i looked at him confused.

“what do you mean?”

“well sometimes when i’m drunk i get horny, i wanna have sex but i don’t want you to feel like you’re taking advantage of me”

“oh ok, uhh i mean we can still use the safe word in that situation right? ill just make sure you remember it before we start?”

“okay sounds good” he smiled at me.

the boys had some influencer party to go to, normally i’d tag along but i really didn’t wanna go anywhere, opting for one of matt’s tshirts instead of a crop top (is this line cringe?).

i knew matt wouldn’t do anything stupid at a party. furthermore, i knew nick and chris, mainly nick, wouldn’t let him do anything really stupid. i trusted him, i knew he’d feel the same about me going out, as long as he knew i’d be safe.

i decided to just sit on the couch, watch tv. i was watching criminal minds when i heard a car door outside. i could hear someone fumbling with the doorknob for a few seconds before before the lock turned and the door opened. nick walked in first, holding the door open for chris and a stumbling matt. he kicked off his shoes, slamming his hand on the wall, almost falling.

“how was the party?” i asked no one in particular.

“well they had fun” nick said, gesturing to the two younger triplets.

“it was cool, matt had too much to drink. lightweight.” chris rolled his eyes.

“be nice” i scolded. matt made his way to the couch, throwing himself over the back, sitting next to me then laying his head in my lap.

“you have fun baby?” i spoke softly.

“yes, missed you tho” i ran my hands through his hair.

“i missed you too my love” i dipped my head down to give him a sweet kiss. it quickly turned rough and needy. i pulled away, conscious of his brothers still downstairs. he let out a whine trying to chase my lips.

“you wanna go to bed baby?” i looked into his eyes, hoping he knew what i meant. his eyes were dark, not black with lust like usual, more doe-y, filled with need.

he nodded using all his strength to sit up, lifting his head off my lap. i stood up, looking back when i noticed he hadn’t moved. “cmon baby, let’s go” i tried to encourage him.

“mmmm, carry me”

“matt you know i can’t carry you, you’re too big”

“don’t be mean!”

“you know what i mean baby, you’re too strong and muscular”

“mhm”

“cmon get up, let’s go” i reached out my hand. he groaned, grabbing it and pulling with so much force i almost fell on him. i brought my other hand over, now using both my arms and all my strength to pull this man up. he finally stood up, he walked perfectly fine. i rolled my eyes, realizing he way just being lazy. he held my hand tight as i walked us up the stairs to our room. i pulled him into the room, he lets go of my hand, falling to the bed.

“how ya feeling baby?” i asked sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.

“i feel good, i missed you”

“i missed you too sweet boy”

“i really, really missed you” looking at me with his doe eyes, silently begging me to understand.

i leaned down to him pressing a sweet but deep kiss, pulling away shortly after.

“what’d you miss baby?” i whispered against his lips, pressing one more kiss to them before moving down his neck.

“your hands, your mouth, you” he whimpered the last word as i bit down into his neck, sucking a deep purple hickey into the soft skin.

“yeah? you want mommy to make you feel good? with my hands?” i ran my hands down his pants, resting my hands right next to his bulge. “with my mouth?” i placed wet kisses to his neck, grazing against the mark i left before.

“fuck yes please god yes”

“do you remember your safe word?”

“yes yes i know my safe word, just touch me already” i grabbed his face harshly.

“don’t be a brat, or ill leave you here to take care of yourself” i spat. he gave me puppy eyes.

“‘m sorry mommy”

“you gonna be a good boy for me?”

“yes yes, wanna be your good boy please”

i ran my hands up his shirt, moving them along his tummy before bringing my fingers to the hem and pulling it up. he got the hint and leaned forward, allowing me to take it off. i brought my hands down to his zipper. i began unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans when i felt him tug on the hem of my shirt. i pulled away, taking my hands off his lap to lift my shirt over my head.

when i looked back at him, his pants were down. i straddled him briefly, moving over him to the other side of the bed. i leaned down, kissing down his now visible v-line, slipping my fingers into the waist band of his boxers. his dick shot up, the tip red and needy, dripping with precum.

“aw baby. so worked up and i’ve barely touched you”

“please…”

“please what baby? what do you want?”

“need you to touch me please” i brought my hand up to his mouth.

“spit”

he did as i asked, or demanded i guess, and i brought my hand down to his cock, stroking up and down him a few times. he threw his head back, letting small moans and whines out, egging me on more.

i stroked him for awhile, focusing on the wonderful faces he made and his desperate noises. he started to squirm, trying to buck up into my hand.

“please mommy more i need more” i smirked at him, the sound of him begging was music to my ears.

i decided to be nice, letting spit fall from my mouth onto his cock before leaning down, sucking on the tip. as soon as i got used to his size in my mouth, i deep throat him, letting his tip hit the back of my throat.

this earned a loud “FUCK” from him, causing me to pull off, making him whine.

“you gotta be quiet baby, don’t want your brothers hearing how needy you are, do you?” i taunted, his cheeks turning a brighter pink. “gonna be quiet? be a good boy for me?”

“yes fuck i promise i’ll be good”

i brought my head down to his lap, taking all of him in my mouth at once. he bit his lip, the whimpers still sounding through. i sped up, going up all the way to the tip and quickly back down to the base. matt had stopped biting his lip, opening his mouth so he could let out large breaths. as i kept sucking him, his breathing turned to what could only be described as panting and fuck it was so hot.

“i-i’m close, f-fuck” he let out between pants. i thought for a second, stilling my movements before pulling off. he let out such a needy groan, i could’ve cum right then and there.

“why?” he looked to me, his eyes brimming with tears.

i gave him a kiss, feeling bad that he was upset.

“i’m sorry baby, mommy wants you to fill her up, don’t you wanna make mommy feel good?”

“yes fuck wanna be inside you mommy please god” he moved his hands up to my bra, still covering my chest.

“can you take this off? wanna see your pretty body” i smiled at him, moving my hands behind my back to unclasp it, pulling it down my shoulders making my tits bounce. i swear i could see some drool leave his open mouth. i quickly pulled my pants and underwear down, not wanting to make him wait any longer and needing him inside me.

i straddled his lap, rubbing my wet clit over his cock, still slippery from my mouth.

“ohmygod” he slurred out, making me giggle a bit, loving how much of an effect i had on him. i lifted myself up, taking him in my hand and lining him up with my entrance.

i sank down slowly on him, feeling every vein against my walls. his eyes rolled back into his head, a deep whine coming from his throat, harmonizing with my moans.

“fuck matty, so fucking big, making mommy feel so good” i bounced on him a few times before i realized how tired i was and began grinding instead.

“h-holy shit mommy, feels s’good”

“been such a good boy for me tonight baby, you wanna cum inside me?”

“fuck, yes please fuck oh my god”

i leaned down connecting our chests, moving my head into the crook of his neck. i sucked another mark into him, nibbling the rest of his neck before breathing on his ear.

“cum whenever you’re ready baby, gonna make mommy cum too” i continued grinding on him, his tip brushing the bottom of my cervix each time. i moved faster, chasing my own high. i felt him twitch inside me, sending me over the edge. i bit down on his neck, trying not to be too loud, matt cried out. between me biting him and clenching around him, his hips sputtered, unloading his cum as far into me as he could.

i let out a squeaky groan as he filled me up. there was no better feeling, his warm load sent me over the edge everytime. i came again, crying out as i clenched around his sensitive cock and began to twitch on him.

matt wrapped his arms around my lower back, trying to still my movements. we both came down from our highs, i lifted my head out of his neck, moving to look at him. his hair was messy, i could see the marks id left, his lips red from biting them so hard, his eyes glossed over.

i kissed him, passionately, there was no sexual motive behind it, i simply wanted to convey how much i appreciate him. he was incredible, in every single way, not just in bed, he was the perfect boyfriend. the perfect man.

“i love you more than anything”

“i love you too baby, so so much” he replied, brushing my hair out of my face.

i gave him another peck before moving to get off him, realizing his cum and cock we’re still inside me. he held my thighs, not letting me get up and i looked at him confused.

“will you uh- can we… sleep like this?”

“of course baby, you like how it feels? leaving your cum inside me? how tight i am around you?” i teased him.

“fuck don’t talk like that, i don’t have the energy for another round” he chuckled.

i gave him another kiss before laying down on top of him, moving carefully so he didn’t come out.

“goodnight matty” i whispered into his ear.

“goodnight my love”

a/n: hi yall, sorry i haven’t posted in a while. busy w school and on top of that we found out we gotta move. but i hope u guys enjoyed, i wrote most of this while high so if anything doesn’t make sense lmk. ALSO i am catching up on requests rn, if you requested something i promise i am working on it <3

[wholoveseggs]

~♡~Dating the Mikaelsons~♡~

One-Shot Edition

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

♡A date with Klaus♡

After a long day at work, you just want to go home and relax. Fortunately Klaus knows exactly what you need to unwind.

In celebration of getting to one-hundred followers♡ I wrote some smutty one-shots based on my dating the mikaelsons headcanons.

♡ Thanks for all the love and support ♡

Warnings: smut, rough sex, biting, blowjobs, rim jobs, all the jobs...I firmly believe Klaus loves booty.

{Part Two -Kol} ♡ {Part Three - Marcel} ♡ {Part Four - Elijah}

After an exceedingly long day, exhaustion had fully seeped into your bones, leaving you feeling burdened and emotionally numb. Exiting your workplace, you headed towards your car, desperate to get home and relax. Rifling through your bag for your keys, you extracted them along with a neatly folded piece of paper.

Intrigued, you unfolded it, revealing a charming sketch of your profile gazing out of a café window. The guy you were seeing must have snuck it into your bag. You smiled, the thoughtfulness of it warming your heart. You pulled out your phone, sending him a thank-you text.

You

"I found your drawing, thank you. I've had a tough day, and this made it a bit better."

Nik

"Which one?"

You paused. There had been multiple drawings? You hadn't seen anything else in your bag. You typed back a quick reply.

You

"There was more than one?"

Nik

"Maybe..."

You unlocked your car, climbing into the seat, closing the door behind you, and pulling your bag onto your lap.

Sure enough, there were several more folded pieces of paper. You pulled them all out and unfolded them. The first was an intricate study of the hands of a man and woman, fingers laced together, palms touching. The second was a silly doodle of you, looking grumpy and flipping off the viewer.

You giggled. It was actually a great likeness. The next one made you blush and look around. It was an illustration of the two of you, nude, kissing in an intimate position. Your face was obscured by his, but the details were quite erotic.

Your body flushed at the thought of him touching you; you hadn't even kissed yet, let alone seen each other naked.

You

"I found the other ones, very creative," 

Nik

"I'm glad you like them, are you busy tonight?"

You paused. What did he want to do? You had planned on vegging out and watching some mindless television. But that sounded incredibly dull.

You

"No, why?"

Nik

"Good. I'll pick you up,"

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat, feeling the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. You had a feeling you were going to be staying up late.

You had no idea where he was taking you; Klaus hadn’t given you any hints, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he had planned.

You were sitting in the car with him, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. It was a beautiful evening, the sky painted a brilliant hue of purple and blue.

You glanced over at him, admiring how attractive he was. You knew that he was a vampire, a powerful one at that, but you didn't mind. You had known others, and none of them were dangerous. At least not to you.

"I thought we could take a walk; I want to show you some of my favorite places," he said as he drove.

"I would love to see them," you replied, smiling at him.

He parked the car, and the two of you climbed out, making your way down the street. It was a clear night, the air crisp and refreshing, and you could hear the sounds of traffic and the chatter of people from a distance.

Klaus walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours every few steps. His presence was soothing, and you felt comfortable with him. He casually took your hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours.

You looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile, squeezing your hand.

"This is the park I like to draw in," he explained. "It's quiet, and the light is beautiful in the morning."

The two of you walked, talking and enjoying the view. He seemed to know a lot about the city and pointed out different buildings, sharing stories from his past.

You found yourself growing more and more attracted to him, the more he shared about himself.

"What was it like here, one hundred years ago?" you asked.

"It was different, but not that much. There were fewer people, and the buildings weren't as tall. It was quieter, I suppose."

You nodded, enjoying the sound of his voice. You loved hearing him talk; his accent was so alluring. You walked in silence for a while, and then he led you over to a bench, and the two of you sat.

"Can I tell you a secret?" he asked.

"Of course." you replied, giving him a gentle smile.

"I love this city; I helped make it what it is, but as time passes, sometimes I feel like I'm a stranger here."

You nodded, understanding, "You must see time so differently from me," you mused. "I can't imagine how it must feel."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes staring out into the darkness.

"It can be lonely," he said, finally. "But with you, I don't feel that way."

You intertwined your fingers with his, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. He leaned in, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself wanting him.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips with yours. He kissed you softly, his lips warm and inviting. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. His hands wandered, caressing your back, and tangling in your hair.

You broke the kiss, looking into his pretty blue eyes, "Do you want to show me your place?" you asked, your voice a breathy whisper.

His eyes flashed, a smirk spreading across his face, "It would be my pleasure."

He took your hand, leading you back to the car. The drive to his place was filled with a heavy silence, both of you knowing what was about to happen.

You had seen the outside of the compound many times, but you had never been inside before; it was gorgeous, the décor was expensive and tasteful.

"Wow, your home is beautiful," you remarked, your heels clicking against the floor.

"Thank you," he said, smirking. "I decorated it myself."

The compound was quiet; everyone else was out or asleep. You followed him into his room, your heart racing.

He closed the door, turning to face you. He reached out, cupping your cheek. His touch was gentle and loving, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"You are so lovely," he murmured, his thumb stroking your skin.

You blushed, the heat rising in your cheeks. You placed your hands on his chest, running them up to his shoulders, feeling his muscles beneath his shirt.

You stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Your lips brushed against his, and you kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You pressed your body against his, feeling his hardness.

He pulled away, his eyes flashing yellow. He picked you up, carrying you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He climbed on top of you, his mouth trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone.

He lifted the dress off of you, tossing it aside. You laid there in nothing but your underwear, his gaze raking over your body.

"Nik," you breathed, your voice full of need.

He leaned down, his mouth on your breast, his tongue swirling over your nipple. You moaned, arching your back. You gasped, feeling his fingers sliding down your abdomen, and under the waistband of your panties.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered, his hands caressing your skin.

"So have I," you replied, lifting your head and pressing your lips to his.

His fingers circled your clit, eliciting moans from your lips. You closed your eyes, his touch was quickly driving you crazy, pushing you to the edge. He watched your face, a wicked grin on his lips.

"How do you like it, love?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive as his lips grazed your skin. 

You blushed, heat pooling between your legs. "I like it a little rough," you breathed, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"I always suspected you were a naughty girl," he whispered, as he nibbled at your ear. You gasped, pleasure coursing through you.

He began to move down your body, leaving a trail of soft bites and kisses. He paused at your breasts, sucking on your nipples, his tongue swirling around them. You moaned, squirming beneath him.

He continued down, his teeth grazing your skin. He hooked a finger under your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. You were completely exposed to him now, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Just beautiful," he breathed, as he dragged his teeth along your inner thigh.

He moved lower, kissing and licking your stomach. His hand slipped between your legs, his thumb grazing your clit.

"Nik," you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moved further down. 

He removed his hand, his tongue taking its place. He licked and sucked on your clit, his hands pushed your thighs up, giving him more room. You bucked your hips, grinding against his mouth.

He chucked, the vibrations causing a wave of pleasure to course through you. He pushed his tongue inside of you, moving it in and out, his nose grazing your clit.

You moaned, your hands tangling in his curly hair. "Fuck," you breathed, as his tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue moved lower than you expected, teasing your ass. Your eyes widened, a thrill of strange pleasure running through you, your hips jumped and you instinctively tried to push away from him. 

"Mmm, love," he whispered, "you like when I do that, don’t you?"

You blushed, heat rising in your cheeks. You nodded, biting your lip.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you whimpered, your head falling back against the pillow.

He returned his tongue to your ass, teasing and probing it, sending sparks of pleasure through you. Pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, Klaus maintained a rhythm that matched the dance of his tongue. Circles and teasing strokes sent waves of pleasure through you, the combination of sensations leaving you breathless, gripping the sheets as you trembled underneath him. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he pushed his tongue in your ass just as he lightly pinched your clit and you cried out, your whole body shaking from the force of your orgasm.

You were spent and panting, gripping Klaus’s hair so hard you nearly tore it out. He chuckled and buried his face deeper in your ass, groaning in pleasure. He swirled his fingers around your clit, feeling how wet you were before he pushed two fingers inside your pussy, hitting your sweet spot.

"Fuck!" you moaned, unable to believe how good it felt. He smiled and continued his assault, pumping his fingers in and out while keeping his mouth busy. His grip on you was almost painful as he held your hips in place, burying his face between your cheeks, his tongue deep inside you. 

The soft, wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy mingled with his labored breathing. He pushed them in deeper, fucking you harder, each thrust making you moan uncontrollably. You were in a state of pure ecstasy, your whole body tingling, every inch of you vibrating with pleasure. You could feel his groans and grunts reverberating through you, and you pushed against him, desperate for more. 

The pressure built inside you until you felt like you were about to explode. You pulled on his hair, pushing back against him with everything you had as you reached your climax. Your whole body trembled as you came, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pure bliss. The sound of his groans as he devoured you filled the room, adding to your ecstasy.

You slumped against the bed, a trembling wreck. Klaus withdrew, leaving you feeling empty, but sated. He wiped his mouth and chin and grinned, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. He kissed his way back up your body, his hands caressing your skin.

"No one's ever done that for you before?" he asked, his eyes dark with desire.

You shook your head, blushing.

"Good," he replied, he hovered over you, giving you a mischievous grin. Your fingers trailed down his chest then towards his stomach, tugging at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing you to remove it. Your hands explored his body, fingers tracing over his muscles, committing him to memory. He smiled, enjoying your touch as you placed soft kisses on his chest, looking up into his eyes.

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours. His kisses were hungry and desperate, his hands squeezing your curves. You grasped at his belt, unbuckling it, and pulling it off. You reached into his pants, wrapping your hand around his cock, smirking as he lets out a low moan. You began to stroke him, feeling him grow harder, maintaining eye contact as you watched him groan with pleasure.

"Love," he panted, his voice thick with arousal.

"Can I taste you?" you ask, your breath ghosting over him. He nods in response, his hips bucking as you continue to stroke him.

He moved on to his back, keeping his eyes fixed on you as you lay kisses down his neck and chest, the feeling of your warm lips making him pant. Your hand never left his cock, never once slowing, and he watched as you used your other hand to gently pinch his nipple, making him hiss out a breath, his teeth clamping together. You felt empowered as you watched him melt under your touch, the big bad hybrid brought to his knees with just your hands. You trailed your tongue from his chest, lower, and lower, not even trying to hide how much you were enjoying his responses.

You finally reached his cock, settling yourself between his legs and looking up at him with innocent, doe eyes. You smirked, holding his gaze as you gripped his cock and slid the head between your parted lips, swirling your tongue around his tip, eliciting a deep guttural groan from him. You lowered yourself down on his throbbing length, taking as much of him as you could handle. Then you slowly pulled off, his cock wet with your saliva, and he moaned, his hands fisting the sheets.

"Do you like that, Nik?" You asked in your most innocent tone. Giving the head of his cock kitten licks as you watched his face. 

"Yes," he moaned, his hips jerking. You plunged him into your mouth again, and took him deeper than before. He moaned and thrust his hips up as you worked him with your mouth, his hand coming to tangle in your hair, guiding you. You teased him with your tongue, licking and flicking it over the veins, taking him deep into your mouth and then pulling off with a pop.

"What about this?" You asked, teasing him some more, relishing in the power you had over him. You felt a surge of heat and wetness pool between your thighs, anticipating what he was going to do to you if you pushed him too far.

He growled in frustration and grabbed your hair roughly, pushing your head down on his cock, holding you in place as he thrusted into your mouth. You reached between his legs, stroking his balls, and he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening.

You continued to bob up and down on his cock, loving the way his hips jerked as he got closer and closer to his orgasm. You could feel his balls tighten, and you knew he was about to come.

You pushed your head all the way down, your nose pressing into his pelvis, you let out a soft hum, pushing him over the edge. He let out a low groan as he came, his cum spilling down your throat, you swallowed every last drop.

He released his grip, and you pulled off his cock, gasping for air. You held out your tongue to him, showing him you swallowed it all, and he let out a low, primal growl, snatching you by your hair and crashing his lips against yours. You breathed heavily, your heart pounding as you kissed him back, feeling the stubble scratch at your chin.

His hands slid down to your waist, his fingers digging into your hips and suddenly you were across the room, pressed against the wall, you let out a shocked gasp, clinging to his shoulders.  He gripped the backs of your thighs and hiked your legs around his waist, using one hand to tease his cock up and down your entrance.

"Nik," you whispered, your voice full of surprise and desire.

"Have you ever been bitten?" He asked, you could feel his warm breath against your neck.

"No, I've never been with a vampire before," you replied breathlessly, gazing at him from under your eyelashes. You felt a rush of excitement and your legs started to tremble.

He raised one eyebrow and a sexy, playful grin formed on his lips. "I'm a hybrid, love, far superior," he teased, kissing your neck softly, then tracing your jugular with his tongue.

You moaned, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you still as he scraped his fangs over your skin. He slowly pushed himself into you, and you threw your head back, moaning as his thick, hard cock stretched you open.

"Fuck," you moaned, as his lips captured yours. He kissed you with such ferocity, sucking on your bottom lip, it was almost violent, and you loved it. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on it, feeling him groan into the kiss, causing his thrusts to speed up and intensify. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, urging him on. You bit your lip to suppress your moan, knowing someone could be in the compound.

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," he teased, his pretty accent giving you goosebumps as he continued thrusting into you, "It's just us. I want to hear you."

You flushed and tried to stay quiet, but the things he was doing to you had you moaning, crying out, and begging for more. You buried your face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Fuck, yes, bite me, love," he encouraged, his hips snapping into yours.

You obeyed, biting down harder, hoping to leave a mark. You gasped, your jaw going slack as his fucked you senseless against the wall. Your head was swimming, and all you could focus on was the feel of his cock buried inside you, and the iron grip he had on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you knew they would leave bruises.

He pounded into you, his lips finding yours, swallowing your moans. He broke the kiss, his voice hoarse, "So pretty and all mine," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours, full of adoration.

"Nik," you breathed, his name sounding like a prayer on your lips.

He moved a hand up, wrapping it around your throat, gently squeezing, restricting your breathing. You moaned, a shot of adrenaline mixed with pleasure coursing through you. He increased his pace, and you knew he was close, his cock swelling, his pace becoming erratic.

"Are you gonna come for me, love?" he whispered, fucking you harder.

You couldn't answer, his grip on your throat was too tight, but he growled, sensing your closeness. He ground his pelvis into your clit, sending you over the edge. Your whole body was trembling as you came, pulsating around him, he growled, sinking his fangs into your neck, the sharp pain only adding to the intensity of the orgasm.

You felt the blood rush out of your neck, the orgasm ripping through you in waves, his hips never slowed, still fucking you hard, his cock throbbing as he continued to drink your blood. You cried out as his thrusts became frantic, his pace inhumanly fast and you knew he was about to come. As your orgasm started to ebb, you felt his cock pulse, and his release spilled inside of you.

He retracted his fangs, pressing his lips to the wounds and began to place soft kisses along your neck, his hips jerking as he rode out the last of his climax. You clung to him, your whole body throbbing as your orgasm finally began to subside, and you felt weak, your strength gone. He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours, panting heavily.

"Bloody hell," he said between breaths, giving you a wild smile as he kissed you. His hand moved to the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently. You sighed, closing your eyes, feeling his weight on top of you.

"That was incredible, love," he whispered, placing kisses on your jawline. You lay there, panting, enjoying the post-orgasmic glow, letting his lips wander.

"Enjoy yourself?" he teased, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms, your head resting on his chest.

"Very much," you replied, turning your head to kiss him.

"Good, because we're not finished yet."

You giggled. "We aren't?"

"Not even close, love."

{Part Two -Kol} ♡ {Part Three - Marcel} ♡ {Part Four - Elijah}

Authors Note: I find calling him Nik really hot... anyone else?

[endofthelinepal107]

sukuna - a deal with the devil pt. 1/3

{to save shibuya, you have to make a mutually beneficial agreement with the king of curses. will he even let you live long enough to try?} 5k words

notes: the reader has an illusion-based curse technique, it's only mentioned once or twice.

warnings: violence, cursing

part one + part two + part three

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Sukuna saw himself as a simple man. He had spent his lifetime working towards becoming the King of Curses. He'd achieved that, and then died. And then he'd had the chance to inspire the fear he hadn't been able to in the Heian period when he was brought back as a curse. 

The first thing he did when he finally managed to consume the pathetic vessel he was in, which was nothing compared to that stupid brave kid he'd been contained in before, was look at his hands. He looked how he'd looked as a human, and his hands were no different. They were strong, powerful, sculpted. Ringed off by the bands of black around his wrists. Hands capable of so much.

Fire!

He let out a laugh as he watched the buildings around him go up in flames. All this effort that humans had put into building these strange, blank cubes of business and residence. All of it, crashing down around him. It was so nice of them to provide a playground for him to get used to his body again.

"Oh, that's not great."

You all turned to look at Satoru, collectively giving him the dirtiest look you could. He rolled his eyes defensively.

"What? We were all thinking it."

Kento took off his blazer and began rolling up his sleeves. "We need to form a plan, now. Before his destruction reaches the populated areas we haven't managed to evacuate. Ijichi and the other managers can't work faster than the King of Curses himself."

Suguru looked at Satoru. "Can you hollow purple him, or something?"

"He won't let me get close enough," Satoru replied. "He won't let any of us get close enough. Our best chance would be managing to surprise attack him, catch him off guard, and then try and win a domain battle."

Suguru frowned. "Do any of us have a domain strong enough?"

You shook your head. "It's more about how long we could keep him in it before he notices. I don't see how we're going to catch someone like him off guard."

Satoru was silent for a few moments. Then he smiled at you. It was the wide, disconcerting smile that Suguru had let him believe was charming. You only got it when he wanted something. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited. "What if... we use you?"

There was a beat of silence. Then Kento nodded slightly. "Use an illusion big enough to catch him off guard. We do have the benefit of your technique not existing in the Heian era. He's unlikely to be able to identify it swiftly."

Suguru nodded. "It could plausibly catch him off guard. You'd have to get his attention and then cast it. And we could decide our strategy differently that way. We could just throw everything at him at once, if you could distract him enough."

You sighed, not hiding that you disliked this plan. "If I die, it's on your fucking hands."

Satoru’s hand hit your back, presumably in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring instead of just wind you. "Don't ask me to pay for your funeral."

And so, while Sukuna was wreaking general havoc across Shibuya, thoroughly enjoying himself, you were reluctantly wandering out into the desolate streets by yourself. You had been pretty resigned to your fate when it was presented to you, but the nerves were starting to hit you full force. Still, you managed to force your feet forwards. About half of Shibuya had been evacuated. Sukuna was heading towards the half that was still populated. You headed towards the abandoned parts so that, when you caught his attention, your probable death wouldn't result in the direct death of hundreds of civilians.

Once you were standing there, you found yourself at a slight loss of what to do. How did you get the attention of someone like the King of Curses? How did you do it in a way that wasn't so similar to a buzzing mosquito that he killed you without looking?

At a lack of anything else to do, you focussed your energy and used your curse technique. You manipulated the concrete in front of you. You made it into a giant arrow pointing downwards and waved it around, grunting slightly at the force it required to move. It was stupid, but you couldn't think of anything else.

You were just beginning to think that it hadn't worked when you felt an overwhelming wave of power. It stunned you for a second. You had never felt this kind of cursed energy before, in such a copious amount. It was obvious that, even though he'd been using all three of his attacks, he was still operating at full force. It was like it didn't even make a difference to him.

Sukuna had to laugh. He jumped down in front of you, watching the arrow melt back into the road. Then he saw you and just burst into laughter. He didn't even bother attacking. 

"Wonderful plan," he chuckled. "Are you fucking stupid? You're the most pathetic sorcerer I've seen all day, and I'm going to destroy you. This is all they have to send me?" He looked up at the sky, hands raised as though he was waiting for a more significant threat to be delivered.

You were rooted in place, briefly wondering if you should be praying or something before he turns around and cleaves you in half. Sukuna turned to look at you again. He was walking casually back and forth, as though his overabundant energy extended to physical. His restlessness almost made him seem like one of your friends, like he was just a normal, slightly overpowered sorcerer. Almost.

"Ah, perhaps this is some sort of trap," he mused. You were terrified, that much was obvious, but he could see the cursed energy rolling off of you. You weren't pathetic. He had misjudged that. But he knew it didn't matter, not to him. You could throw everything you had at him amidst the most well-orchestrated plan in history. He'd still laugh as it fell around him. Because he was stronger, and that was the simple fact of the matter. "I almost pity you."

You managed to force yourself to take a small step forward. The tiny motion broke the seal and you felt your nerves sliding away a little. Still there, ever present, but much less so. It wasn't debilitating anxiety now. You were pretty sure you were about to die, but you were determined to at least do something for the people you cared about before you did.

"The King of Curses."

It was a redundant statement and made you feel stupid as soon as you'd said it. But they were words, and they were words addressed to him. That was enough for him to look at you properly.

"I thought that the King of Curses had, like, four arms and shit," you forced yourself to continue. "And two faces. And, like, a mouth on your stomach."

He didn't leap at you, or start shooting out that stream of fire like before. He crossed his arms and laughed. Laughed because he was a little unsure of what you were doing, and because he still felt sure he could kill you in an instant if he wanted to.

"I guess that you're just not as scary as everybody thinks," you shrugged.

You'd loosened your hands as well as your tongue. From the first word you'd spoken, you had started to let out a steady stream of cursed energy. Luckily for you, you hadn't been fully containing it in your nervous state anyway, so the shift to utilising it wasn't obvious.

And he wasn't noticing.

"I heard that nobody was scared of you at all during the Heian period."

Your fingers twitched slightly, the illusion beginning to subtly take shape around the two of you. You were trying to keep it unnoticeable, but elements had to change for it to be an actual illusion. The buildings were changing shade of grey, the lamps were dulling, the road was becoming black instead of blue. He still wasn't noticing.

"That, compared to the sorcerers of your time, you really weren't anything special."

He looked irritated, but he was still looking at you like you'd look at a fly landing on your arm. He was holding up his hand, ready to strike the bug away, completely unaware that the fly could slip out from under his hand just in time.

And, as you stifled your astonishment that he really isn't noticing, you realised that maybe you could switch the plan slightly to make it easier for the others. You thought of something even more insulting to say so that he wouldn't notice your hands moving as you expanded your domain.

"I guess that's why you're back again, huh? Because you can ease your inferiority complex by attacking defenceless humans, and convince yourself that you're strong and powerful and the King of Curses. Ha, third time's the charm, I guess."

He felt a surge of anger at how perceptive your words were, even though you had no idea who he really was. "You insolent-" Sukuna cut himself off. His eyes narrowed as he looked around. "No," he muttered. "No." Surely... Surely not?

Now that he had realised that he was trapped inside of your domain, you didn't have to manage your cursed energy output so that it remained unnoticeable. You forced more energy out, broadening the boundaries to their maximum. Your domain was the perfect domain for this, you had to admit. It was constantly shifting, so even though he'd registered that he was trapped, you could keep him slightly disoriented. And, since it was barrierless and also an illusion, the only way out of it was to run and hope you reached the edge. You couldn't see Sukuna taking that option because it would seem too cowardly for the King of Curses.

Slowly, Sukuna's eyes met yours. They flashed red and you felt your heart drop. You couldn't do sophisticated attacks and also hold him in here, it was just too much. Especially since you didn't know if the others were going to be able to interject anytime soon. All you had to do was keep him inside the domain for long enough to fall unconscious under the weight of the cursed energy. It seemed unfamiliar enough to him that he didn't have a massively high tolerance, but you couldn't see him losing it just yet.

He started to walk towards you. His movements were slow, but wide, like a cat stalking a mouse. It was hard to believe that you held the power in this situation, but you forced yourself to trust it. It was the only way this would work.

You let him get close. And then, hoping a juvenile attack would catch him off guard, you leapt at him. Sukuna was already wary of you, confused and disoriented by your slow and steady attack. Seeing you literally pouncing on him made him stop short. And, because he was so sure he could toss you off, he didn't react fast enough. Because now you were literally on the King of Curses' back, arms around his neck. He couldn't fucking shake you off.

"What are you-"

Your legs wrapped firmly around his broad frame, ensuring that you couldn't be tossed off. And then you narrowed the domain, focussing everything in the concentrated space the two of you were in. Sukuna's hand had just wrapped around your wrist, either with the intention of straight up snapping it or just throwing you off, both of which should've been effortless for him. And then he fell unconscious.

"Ah-" You fell directly on top of him as he slumped to the ground.

You were too tired to roll off him, so you just stayed slumped over his body. You released your domain. Your friends were already surrounding you. After the initial few seconds of stunned silence as they registered that you were literally on top of the King of Curses, they began to celebrate.

Kento pulled you onto your feet and let you lean against him as you regained your energy. Satoru beamed at you and gave you a quick hug. Suguru patted you on the head while Satoru jumped up and down in a circle around Sukuna's body. You smiled weakly as you watched them. Then, resting your hand on the loop of Kento's arm because you really felt like you were going to collapse, you spoke up.

"Um- I don't think he's going to stay unconscious for that long, so I'd form a plan, if I were you guys."

Your words, necessary as they were, definitely killed the vibe. Satoru deflated and everybody else looked at Sukuna's body. Suguru spoke up first.

"We could just... kill him."

None of you had wanted to say it, but it was a plausible option. It seemed like a pretty good option, actually.

Kento was the first to agree with Suguru's plan out loud. "I think that's a good idea. Safest to do it while he’s unconscious.." He let out a conflicted sigh. "I don't love the idea of doing it like this, but I think that waiting for him to wake up and then attacking would be a foolish idea."

Suguru nodded. "Satoru, you’re quiet."

Satoru looked up, smiling slightly. "That's because I have another suggestion." He looked at you, then pointed just in case there was any confusion about who he was addressing (there wasn't). "You just took down the King of Curses."

You chewed your lip, then added, "Temporarily."

"Sure. But you did it. And I firmly believe that, had anybody else been down there, even with your cursed technique and the exact same plan, it wouldn't have worked."

There was a pause as you frowned at him. "Why would that be the case?"

Satoru shrugged. "I don't know. But that's what I think. I don't think he would've listened to anyone else."

Suguru quietly added, "Not for long enough to lose, anyway."

Kento started to nod, seeing Satoru's point. You still didn't see what his plan was. "What does that matter now, though, ‘toru?"

"He listened to you enough to lose. Maybe we could..." He tilted his head slightly. "Maybe we could use that. Use him."

For the second time that day, you were left on your own with the King of Curses. At least he was unconscious this time. Not that it felt like a huge consolation when the whole point of this plan was to wait for him to wake up.

You were kneeling beside him, nervously tapping your fingers on the floor. Just waiting. You felt like a sitting duck. The plan was that, as soon as he showed signs of waking, you expanded your domain again and trapped him inside. Just like the plan earlier, you were convinced it was going to go wrong. Luck didn't feel like it was on your side. You wished that they could have come up with a better plan. You hadn't loved Suguru's proposition, but it beat this.

The others were busy helping with the evacuation. It turned out that Sukuna's attacks hadn't been the only ones in Shibuya, and while everyone's focus was on him, some lower grade cursed spirits had escaped. Nobody had died yet. Your friends were making sure that fact didn't change.

You sighed, looking down at Sukuna's body again. It was strange to know he was so powerful, yet sit beside him like this and be fine. You could get a good look at him like this. He was big, bigger than even Kento.. Solid. Every part of him seemed as strong as it could be. But, slumped against the concrete, he didn't look so severe. You had fought with people that lost their shit in fights enough times to know his laughing wasn't entirely sincere, so it was nice to get a look at him candidly. He kind of just looked... blank. Like his body was a vessel for destruction, and when it wasn't doing that, there wasn't enough him to actually fill it up. He could have been dead and you didn't know how different he would truly look.

Your eyes were on him the entire time. You knew that you hadn't missed a single flicker in his expression, no eye twitch or parting of lips or any sign that he was about to wake up. But, one second he was asleep, and then next his eyes were on yours.

For a moment, your heart stuttered in your chest. You were frozen again, but for a different reason than before. His eyes bored into yours. They weren't quite as red as you had thought they were, more of an autumnal orange. And they were narrow, almost lazily opened, like he truly didn't care about anything. Even though you knew he must, you knew that this couldn't have ever happened to him before.

He didn't say anything. But when he sat up and just looked at you, it was pretty obvious what was happening. More obvious when his arms crossed over his broad chest and he lifted his eyebrows slightly. After a long few seconds of your stunned silence, he spoke up.

"Well? Are you going to do it, or should I just kill you on the spot? I have a feeling I'll enjoy killing you."

Your lips parted and you stared at him. But you lifted your hands and expanded your domain again, because what the fuck else were you meant to do? It took a little longer than before. Most sorcerers couldn't expand their domains more than once in a day, but you could as long as you had the energy and focus. You were swiftly running out of both.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, rising to his feet. You tried to do the same, but your body was too fatigued. You stayed kneeling and tried to conserve your energy as best as you could so, when you needed to stand, you could. He paced in front of you for a while, inspecting your domain. Then he turned to you. The only reaction he had to realising you were still kneeling was a slight raise of his eyebrows again.

"So, puny sorcerer... What the fuck are you doing? Who do you think you are? Have I been gone for so long that sorcerers have become this incredibly cocky?" He glared at you. "You may have bested me for a moment, but I could still squash you where you stand. Kneeling only makes the punishment more fitting." When you didn't say anything, he continued. "What is your plan? What purpose does my suffering in your presence serve, other than to prolong your inevitable death?"

You looked at him blankly for a few seconds. Then you looked down at your hands and spoke. "They didn't tell me what to say, so I'll just tell you the truth."

There was a beat of silence as you expected him to interrupt you, and he didn't because he was a little surprised by your words.

"The plan is to use you. To hold you here and... bring you over to our side, so to speak." You turned your hands over, inspecting them. You've never come out of a fight this unscathed before. How ironic that it was with the King of Curses himself. "You have immense power, more than anybody we have. But, combined, our sorcerers can still take you down. I did it, and I'm not the strongest sorcerer."

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you believe that honesty will convince me? You are far more foolish than I thought you were."

You hesitated. The sensible thing to do next would be to list the benefits, to show him why he should want this arrangement. But nobody had told you any, because everyone was so focussed on how it could benefit you. After a pause, you frowned slightly and did your best.

"You must feel like your power has plateaued," you said, half-guessing. "You must feel like you've reached the peak, and that this is as far as your power can go. But things are different in the jujutsu world than they were in the Heian era. Take my technique, for example. We have no idea when it originated, but there was no version of it in your era. There are a few techniques like that. And, since the birth of Gojo Satoru, the whole landscape has changed. You could grow further, learn from observing a whole new breed of sorcerer."

Sukuna said nothing, but his interest was piqued more than he'd admit. You were right. He loved the simplicity of breaking people and things, but wasn't there more to this whole thing? He'd done this. He'd already burned down buildings, used Cleave and Dismantle until he could do it in his sleep. Maybe there would be some use in watching the sorcerers of the modern age. 

You took his silence to mean that he wasn't convinced, and so you tried to think of another benefit. "You can benefit from socially acceptable protection," you told him. "You might not think you need protection, that everyone else needs protection from you, but this arrangement is going to require you to be cooperative. If you just agree to that, you're going to end up being exploited. Even if you benefit from it, you're the King of Curses, you shouldn't be at the mercy of them. I'm respected enough and strong enough to provide that protection for you." After you'd finished talking, it faintly registered what you had just offered, but you pushed it out of your mind. You were doing what you needed to do.

There was another lull. Sukuna was genuinely astounded by what you had just said. Not only at the prospect of being protected by some modern sorcerer, but at the idea that you would actually offer that to him.

"Hey, also," your voice suddenly grew far more casual and you looked up, meeting his eye. Sukuna was already fiercely watching you, but he knew the slight surprise at your tone probably registered on his face. "Don't you want to just kind of see what's going on in the world these days? Like, it's been a thousand years, man. So much has changed. You have all this power, but haven't you done everything that you want to do? Don't you want to kind of.. chill out? Do some stupid stuff, some trivial stuff? Explore the world and not have to constantly be thinking about who you're going to murder next, or whatever?"

He shouldn't have listened to a word you said, but he did. And then, because he was still Sukuna, and because it had been a long time since he'd had a real conversation with anyone, he used his well-practiced tactic of turning the tables.

"Tell me, puny sorcerer, why are you letting them guide your actions? Why do you so willingly give over your strings to your puppet-masters?"

He waited for a beat, let it sink in as you looked up at him. Sukuna doubted that it was going to be easy to manipulate you. You were clearly good at thinking on your feet. So, just like you had, he manipulated the truth to his favour, and tried to ignore it when he realised there was very little manipulation in his words at all.

"What grade are you, fool?"

"Special grade."

He nodded. He'd guessed as much. "You have all this power, this unique and versatile technique, and you're allowing it to be guided by another's hand? Are you completely stupid?" Sukuna's eyes flicked between yours. He was still trying to figure out if you were only able to hold his eye contact because you were terrified, or if you were so worn out that your nerves had faded. "Would you not like freedom? Autonomous power? Whether your whims be destruction or life-giving, should it not be your choice? Shouldn't you embrace the power at the core of you?"

You tilted your head slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. And- And who's going to give that to me? You?"

Maybe it was that he'd only been in the modern age for an hour, but the sarcasm went right over Sukuna's head. "Yes, fool, me. You yourself acknowledged the power I hold, far superior to any sorcerer you know. Who else could grant you that?"

Both of you stopped. Stared at each other. And, simultaneously, you both realised that the other had a point.

Because... yeah. Destruction did come easily to Sukuna. It took hardly more effort than walking. But it got tedious. He felt like, no matter the sorcerer he was fighting, the city he was destroying, it had all become the same. And, as much as he had always wanted power, he had never wanted stagnancy. The appeal of his power was meant to be that it was exciting. What use did it have if it no longer thrilled him?

It would be a surprisingly welcome change to give it a break. He had never given himself a chance to try the other parts of being a sorcerer. Even while he was a human, his focus had just been on building his power. And, once he'd achieved that, the immense strength he'd held had meant he couldn't just live as a normal sorcerer. Yeah, maybe the Heian era had been so full of horror and cursed spirits that nobody had truly feared him. But if he had just wandered the streets, he would have gotten three paces before he was engaged in another fight.

He could do the things that he'd never had a chance to. Actually live somewhere, permanently. He could discover new things about life, things that had changed since he was roaming the earth. He could travel, buy things, live.

And, on your knees a few paces away, you were also realising that... yeah. You were exploited a lot of the time. Just like Satoru, you were powerful, which meant that people were very focussed on making sure you were on side. But the value was in your skill, not in your personhood.

Like Shoko, your cursed technique made you indispensable. You were more versatile than most people, had the endurance to withstand more damage before you had to be pulled from the field. And they took advantage of it. It had been you they'd sent out to confront the King of Curses, hadn't it?

You were rare enough to be coveted, but not enough to be given anything in return. And the dissatisfaction had been building in you for a long while. Sukuna's words had just... brought it to the forefront. And they'd provided a solution, something you hadn't even thought to consider. The option to just... stop it. Could it really just stop?

But, as much as living appealed to Sukuna, and no longer being treated like a cursed tool appealed to you, both of you couldn't look past the looming fact that you couldn't trust each other.

Sukuna was the King of Curses. He was probably going to kill you as soon as he was out of your domain. He'd probably been drooling about your head falling away from your body since he'd laid eyes on you. 

And, if he doesn't kill you like he knows he should, you're probably just laying down more parts of an elaborate trap. You were probably buying his trust so that one of the other sorcerers could kill him while you caught him off guard again. And-

Sukuna's eyes met yours. And, as you looked up at him, it became glaringly apparent that your paranoid thoughts were mirroring each other. Because if you don't trust him, and he doesn't trust you, and both of you are refusing to trust the other because you're so convinced that the other will betray you, isn't there an obvious solution.

"It might make sense for us to make a binding vow-"

"Get on your feet and make a binding vow-"

He scowled at you. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. But you rose to your feet. You took a step forward and he mirrored you. You stuck your hand out and he clasped it in his, his grip as strong as you knew it would be. It was slightly painful, but you didn't let it show on your face. You weren't sure he was doing it on purpose, anyway.

Once he released your hand, you withdrew your domain. Sukuna didn't kill you. No other sorcerers jumped out to kill him while his guard was lowered.

You turned to look at him. Sukuna looked right back at you. This was the first time in either of your lives that you'd been forced to trust someone like this. It wasn't technically out of necessity, because he could've gone back to destroying Shibuya if he wanted, and you could try to kill him again if you wanted, but it was the truly rational decision for both of you.

And, beyond the pragmatism, it was kind of nice to trust someone. Sukuna had to admit that he'd never been able to trust someone before, not beyond Uraume. This was very different to that. 

You had your friends, of course, and you knew that they were never intentionally exploiting you. They all suffered too. But you had never had an ally like this before, someone that, sure, was acting mostly for his own benefit, but that had absolutely no reason to betray you beyond whimsy.

It wasn't awful.

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i hope you enjoyed my first proper part of a fic on this account! already we are not operating at true sukuna levels of violence but i can't resist writing my man a little soft. he's gonna get softer, trust. part 2 and 3 in editing.

[dc418writes]

✨Pairing✨: felon!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Surprisingly, you’re Ari’s first stop when he gets out of prison

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!! Ari (first and foremost because hello☝🏾lol), angst, talks of prison, allusion to violence (male-male), allusion to childhood trauma, a few bad language words, unprotected happy adult fun times (everyone please be safe!)

A/N🎤: Hi! So this is my entry for the Cum Together Extravaganza created by the amazing, talented, wonderful, whore-mone inducing @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 lol, and I hope everyone enjoys☺️! *This idea is loosely based off Nicolas Cage’s character from Con Air (if you know you know✨)

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was created by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

Prompt: Pining + Running into each other after a long time apart + Frantic Kisses

His heavy boots stop just a foot or two away from the familiar steps he’d climbed plenty of times before. A mix of emotions swirling through his brain causing a tightness in his chest.

He shouldn’t be here.

Not after he’d all but physically pushed you out the visitation room that day. A common tactic of self sabotage he developed over the years, along with his way of trying to protect you from the eventual hurt he knew he’d put you through.

You were so angelic that day. Your natural glow competing with the sun outside shining through the window against your soft skin seemingly made of gold. Brown eyes full of worry, yet still holding that sparkle Ari had never experienced from anyone before. This wasn’t a place for you to be. A place that would soon tarnish your purity - so white the freshest snow, having fallen directly from the sky above, seemed dirty.

“You’re hurt,” you stated wanting so badly to reach out and try to do something for the blue and purple bruise on his cheek. To clean the dried blood around the stitch in his right eyebrow, but you keep your hands to yourself following the strict “no touching” rule.

He only shrugged. Clearly uncaring of whatever happened, but there was also a dimness to his spirit.

Since your first meeting, you could tell there was something hidden behind the walls he’d built. Sense a complicated past before he felt comfortable enough to tell you some of what he’d gone through. However this was different. Past the point of reverting back to the old Ari that was known as a troubled, aloof hermit, it’s almost as if this was a completely different man.

“I uh wanted to bring you cookies, but the officer said no,” you started again, trying to change the subject since Ari wouldn’t tell you what happened. “Something about possible contraband smuggling? As if I could sneak something in a small cookie. Plus it’s me of all people! Where would I even get-,”

“Don’t come back here,” he finally spoke in that gruff voice. It takes you back at first, lightly chuckling to yourself thinking he was joking. His serious eyes - somewhat dark and with new adjoining bags from his lack of sleep - tell you otherwise quickly causing a furrow to your brows.

“Wha-What do you mean-?”

“You don’t need to be waiting for me. Just…leave.”

“B-But I love you Ari.”

He shakes his head before standing to his feet. “We’re done,” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches the metal door. Whoever was in charge apparently heard him from the pad shining green to grant him entrance back to the waiting hall where another officer met him to reapply his cuffs and escort him to his cell.

All the while ignoring your cries of his name and how you pleaded for him to talk to you.

But later that night, staring at the discolored white ceiling as he lied in his top bunk on an uncomfortable, lumpy mattress, it’s all he could hear. Those same tears that ran down your cheeks now silently running down his.

“Fuck,” he silently curses to himself while his fingers pass through his almond strands as he turns away - now hyper aware of how strange he probably looked to your neighbors just standing in your yard. He should’ve just gone to the halfway house he’d been recommended from the transfer counselor.

Try to stay far from you and this part of town for that matter.

He was slowly realizing though, that the heart he thought was closed off desperately craved attention only you could give. Only wanted your warm touch and smile that soothed a childhood ache he’d long suppressed.

Just as he moves to descend your stone path, the front door creaks open to staccato taps on your wooden porch. There’s a continuous clink of metal followed by excited barks as the black dachshund runs down the steps and around Ari’s feet.

“Barry! You can’t run-”

Beautiful as a painting in a museum, there you stood in your cut off jean shorts and some older looking shirt. Your hair much shorter than the last time he saw you eight years ago, but the pixie cut only brought more attention to your gorgeous face and adorable cheeks.

Other than that, it’s as if you hadn’t aged a day.

“A-Ari?,” you stammer stepping further out onto your porch.

He has to clear his throat to get rid of the nerves blocking his words from escaping. “I…I’m sorry for just showin’ up like this. Would’ve called, but when they gave me my phone back it was dead.”

“So..you’re out?”

“Yea,” he softly smiles. You don’t return it though looking as if you’d seen a ghost while staying planted on the top step. Even Barry had returned back to your side, circling a couple times until he felt comfortable enough to lie down. “This was a mistake. Clearly she doesn’t want you here.”

“I’ll uh leave then,” Ari says nervously scratching the back of his neck after a long - and awkward enough - moment of silence between you two. “I didn’t mean to bother-”

Before he can finish, you’re running down the steps - not caring of the dirt and grass on your bare feet. He’s prepared for your deserved anger, whether that be yelling, shoves, or even punches. Instead, your fists clasp the front of his shirt as you pull him down to meet your lips.

After years apart his hands still automatically find their usual place on your body bringing you closer. Ari’s right on the side of your neck, tilting your chin however he needed to gain the access to your mouth he missed, while his left dragged from your hip to the middle of your back holding you to him.

Your moan hitting him in a deep, long ignored place that has him embarrassed like a teenage boy how fast his blood runs southward.

The need for air has you both begrudgingly parting, while your foreheads stay connected. “I’m sorry..for everything,” he whispers letting his thumb graze along your petal soft bottom lip. It’s as if he thinks you’ll break he’s so gentle - like it’s a fragile piece of artwork he dared touch.

"I didn't-"

"Shh," you reply leaning up to peck his lips once more. "Later."

-

Your lips barely separate journeying the short distance from your front door to your bedroom. Both of them red and swollen, yet neither of you attempt to stop as your back hits the light blue comforter - fluffy and soft as a cloud.

His hands grip your thighs curling along his sides, yet fail to move where you need them most making you whimper as his mouth slides to your neck. Taking matters into your own hands, you pull his shirt over his muscled back - silently giggling to yourself and filling with a sense of pride hearing his pleasured groan as your nails rake against his warm skin.

They’re set for his buckle next, but Ari’s quick to use his rougher and stronger ones to pin on either side of your head. “Ari please,” you whine eagerly trying to grind your hips so your soaking core can get some type of relief. You know he’s desperate for something too briefly nudging the tent formed in front of his pants.

“I know, I know.” He unsuccessfully tries to kiss the pout from your lips. “I..I wanna take my time tonight. It’s been eight years sweetheart.”

The deprived and needy part of you wants to counter, urging him for the opposite since it’s been so long. Instead, you nod letting him completely take control.

Slowly, he helps remove your clothes before open mouth kisses and taps of his tongue flow down from your neck and across your heaving chest to your stomach. You moan arching your back to lift your breasts closer to his face when he returns there taking his time attacking one nipple with his tongue while the other is groped and plucked in his free hand.

By the time he finally reaches your waiting and wet core, it only takes one lick and your sweet release is covering his beard.

“S-Sorry,” you stammer feeling your skin heat even more from shame not wanting that to happen so quickly.

“Sorry?,” he softly chuckles before leaving a kiss on your mound. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”

The sound nearly has you in tears knowing your Ari was back. The one you knew loved you just as much as you loved him.

Having had a taste after going so long without, he can’t wait for more switching between his skillful tongue and fingers until your juices flow again, His mouth attached to you; greedily slurping everything you could give him. Your fingers are seemingly locked in his hair as he rises enough to remove his pants. Grunting as he grabs the base - past the point of painfully hard - to direct himself inside you.

“Fuck,” he moans into your neck feeling you rapidly pulse around him. So warm and tight he has to restrain himself from taking you like a wild animal.

Not that you would mind.

“M’not gonna last baby.”

“Spose to happen,” you slur clutching around him urging him to move.

His hand tightly pinning your hip to the bed, his thrusts start slow yet hard before gaining speed the closer he feels. Simultaneously, your cries of his name get louder as well while his mouth and tongue move along your neck and earlobe.

“Shit, I feel you right there baby come on. Come with me.” You can’t comprehend anything with your brain in this foggy, love drunk state, yet somehow your body complies when his thumb finds your swollen and throbbing nub squirting against his skin and down to the sheets below. “Mm good girl.”

His final pumps have you filled until no more can stay. A small mix of both your releases leaking from your hole with every surge of his hips until he’s drained.

Exhausted, he carefully tries to pull out but your whines have him stopping. Softly smiling to himself while slowly lowering until he’s comfortably laying on top of you. “Calm down I’m here.”

Soon your even breaths fill his ears and he’s able to lie on his side - gently moving you with him- to completely take in the area surrounding him. His fingertips mindlessly tracing along your thigh as he reacquaints himself to your bedroom. It was fitting for you in every way, from the light yellow of the walls to the books lining the shelves he built for you long ago. Your few stuffed animals in a wicker basket in the corner as if they were prepared for bed themselves.

Ari notices one in particular - a white bunny with long ears and pink bows he bought you during a trip to the store one day - on your dresser next to a framed picture you must’ve secretly took. He appeared to be taking a break from something dressed in a gray tee, dark jeans, and work-boots with his utility belt on his hips. A bottle of water in his hand lifted to his lips as he looked off somewhere in the distance. Now that he thought about it, he was watching a bird peck the ground trying to find bugs or seeds to eat.

And he looked so peaceful. So calm for once in his tormented life. He had you to thank for that being kind and willing enough to share your light when he fought so hard against it.

In the bit of moonlight peeking through the blinds, he can make out ‘Home’ in the corner of the picture causing the slightest curl to his lips as he holds you closer.

“You kept putting up with me,” he quietly speaks pecking your temple. “So patient even after everything. Know I’m never leavin you again sweetheart. I’m home for good.”

[mysteria157]

Moment Two: Your Daughter's First Pair

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity (not really), sexual suggestion, slight angst (very minimal).

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Nanami joins you and your daughter for a family tradition, but he may not be as strong as he thinks.

Set in the It Had To Be You universe but you don't need a lot of backstory to follow along.

Notes: This was a random thought that I had based on something that has always been a thing in my family that I wanted to write out. There is nothing significant about this, I have not written Nanami in a LONG time, so I'm trying to warm myself up again. I am so rusty but I'm using fleeting moments of inspiration and taking advantage of it.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

| Twitter | Ao3 | Masterlist | Moment One | Moment Three...Eventually

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

MINORS DNI

“You don’t need to hold her so tight.”

“I’m protecting her.”

“And what am I, a goat?”

He raises a brow at your jest, autumn wheat and elegant but nonetheless annoyed as he glares at you. He doesn’t mean it, you know that—it’s all nerves.

“Ken, we don’t have to do this you know? If you’re against the idea, we can wait a few more years.”

“I’m not against it,” he reassures you, adjusting your daughter in his arms. Ulani babbles up at him, her chubby hands digging into a sharply cut cheekbone. He carries on without complaint, already used to her behavior. “This is a tradition, and I understand it but…”

You turn a key chain in one hand, your thumb smoothing along the glittery face of a dog—or is it a cat? The rack is filled with key chains of different colors, animals and objects, bringing back memories of middle school when you would drag your best friend Omelia into this same store in Sendai before it closed down. Despite the many years that have passed, the store chain still has its subtle hues of purples and pinks, earrings punched through purple cardboard paper, pens with wonky erasers, and headbands of different designs.

“But what?” you try to finish for him, smiling up at his nervous form as he lets Ulani talk to him in her own baby language.

Kento pulls in a deep breath as if to steel his nerves and prepare for the inevitable. He’s praying to whoever will listen, trying to use every coping mechanism in the book. He’s wearing jeans that hug his fit thighs and a dark blue short sleeve that shows too much bicep for your liking (you should give him a dress code). There are only so many single and married women and men that you can glare at in a day, and the redhead over by the register is pushing it.

“Will it hurt her?” your boyfriend’s low timber pulls you back, filled with apprehension, and he keeps mahogany eyes on his daughter to avoid showing you just how scared he is. You rub his back to soothe him, tracing the bands of muscle that are tense behind the soft fabric.

“I-I’m worried.”

“And you shouldn’t be. It’s a simple thing, lasts two seconds. Just like when she got her first shots.”

That’s not enough for him, because now Kento furrows his eyebrows in frustration, bouncing his daughter in his arms to entertain her and also soothe himself. “There are a lot of things to consider. The risk of infection. Rejection. What if she hates them? What if they get caught on her clothes? Or her curls? Or—”

“Are we ready?” one of the employee’s sing songs from behind you both, walking towards the singular chair perched against the glass wall of the store.

“I—” Kento croaks, clearing his throat and swallowing loudly. He looks down at you. “Are we?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve only seen Kento visibly nervous a handful of times. That stoic demeanor is a smooth, stone-like shell to everyone else besides family and close friends, but you know the weak spots and have glimpsed into the fragmented sections only visible to your eyes. Right now, he’s nervous and fearful beyond belief. That all encompassing love and attention that he shows you from sunup to sundown extends to his daughter as well. If there is one person besides you, who can make Nanami Kento show his emotions freely and without reservation no matter the date, place, or time, it’s Ulani.

“How about you hold her?” you suggest and give him a small push towards the black chair. Two employees work at the small kiosk next to him, unwrapping sterile materials and cotton swabs. Kento’s eyes watch every movement, searching for any sign of threat that can give him the ammunition to take his daughter and never come back. You can practically hear his thoughts:

“Is that up to code?”

“How long has that been sealed?”

“What is the name of the manufacturer so that I can ensure it’s reputable?”

Your roll your own eyes, knowing how right you might be.

When you found out your pediatrician would be on her own maternity leave, you let Kento research every establishment in Tokyo until he found one in Shibuya. Reputable, good reviews, and well-practiced in this procedure.

Of course, you’re nervous too. She’s your daughter, a combination of you and Kento, conceived from a very drunken night of disdain but grown out of eventual love and adoration. The thought of her crying in pain makes that maternal part of you flare with anger and the consuming need to protect her forever. But you’ve prepared for this for awhile.

Kento? Not so much.

“Is that clean?” your boyfriend asks one of the employees, clutching his daughter a little tighter. It’s a little rude, but the employee smiles at him in a way that conveys understanding of his trepidation. This isn’t their first rodeo.

“Completely sterile from the package. I promise she’s in great hands.” Deep eyes free of steampunk-esque glasses flicker up at her in doubt, but he simply sniffs and looks back to his daughter instead to withhold a scathing remark. “How about one of us on each side, and we do it at once?” she suggests, addressing him directly. It helps, as he gives her a somber but curt nod.

He situates Ulani in his arms so she’s sitting fully on his lap, his large hands holding her up with a slight tremble. The sight is enough to remind you again that this is new territory for him. What has always been a normal tradition for you and the other females in your life, is a foreign concept for him.

Ear piercings are a milestone in a young girl’s life. You got yours as a baby, and so did your mother. Omelia got hers as a baby, as did all her female cousins, as did her mother and the mother before her. If you interacted with your mother’s side of the family, then maybe you would know if your cousins also did the same.

But that’s another thought for another time, and you refuse to let painful memories tarnish what should be a memory you are crafting on your own, right now.

You step closer and run your hands through thick blond locks that are free of gel. You brush the strands from his forehead, letting the soft texture slip past your fingertips as he relaxes instantly. With his place in his chair, he’s at the perfect height to rest his head on your stomach, and he does so a second later.

One of his hands brushes light brown curls from his daughters ears. You can feel the unease radiating from him with every deep breath he takes, and you scratch that spot at his nape that makes him shudder, hoping it will help.

The muscles in Kento’s neck bunch together instead when one of the employee’s leans toward Ulani to make marks in deep purple, and even your own stomach turns in response at what’s to come. 

“Okay, we will do this on three. How’s that sound honey?” one of the employees coos at your daughter. Ulani, who is a carbon copy of her father, stares up at her, observant and sinking into her daddy before offering a gummy smile. “She’s so pretty.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kento corrects, slightly rough but still appreciative of the compliment. “Aren’t you, my dove?”

He tickles her side and offers a rare chuckle as she squeals up at him, wiggling in her father’s embrace. The sight makes your heart do flips because this is your world, day in and day out. Just you, Kento, and the person you’ve created together.

You step around to squat in front of him so you’re eye level with your daughter, a hand coming up to wiggle the toes covered in a tan sock. Her eyes catch you immediately, and she holds your gaze long enough for the two employees to position themselves on each side of her. 

Kento holds his breath.

“Alright, here we go. One. Two. Three.”

They both move in sync, pressing down on the plastic gun so the studs slide through the soft lobe of Ulani’s lower ears. Kento’s eyebrows furl together immediately. Ulani’s eyes widen for a second before her face contorts, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Your heart hammers and your chest tightens in an sudden flood of sadness and desperation that crashes against you like a tumultuous wave when Ulani takes one heaving breath in….

And screams.

His reaction is quick. Kento bounces one leg at a tempo that alarms you, his handsome face flying through different stages of grief, anger, and pain as he watches the employees adjust the diamond earrings to ensure they heal without complication. His mouth opens and closes, jaw grinding to keep his rudeness in check, because you know what he wants to say.

He was the same way when she got her shots; all glares and sharp stares at everyone else because they were the source of her discomfort. But like that time before, you are the cooling balm for his hot anger as you wiggle your daughters toes and murmur soothing words at her, to show him that she’s going to be just fine.

“It’s okay, baby,” you smile softly and it’s enough to capture her attention even though she’s squealing and crying from the sharp but quick pain in her ears. But all too quickly, you’re not enough for her, because the daughter that you carried for almost ten months turns away and reaches for her father, crying loudly in his arms. It’s a sting that you prepared for, but nonetheless hurts with a severity that takes a few seconds for you to recover from.

By the time you pay one of the employees and exit the store, Ulani has already calmed down. Kento digs into the diaper bag on his shoulder and pulls out a cotton cloth, wiping her nose as she sniffles and whines into his shoulder.

“I know honey, I know,” he coos to her, wiping the tears from her light brown skin and swaying back and forth. “But you were so strong, weren’t you? Hmm? A lot stronger than me.”

He pulls her away from his neck, smiling softly at her, and that one smile makes your chest bloom with satisfaction. It’s times like these that remind you how your life has surprisingly fallen into place. Who would have thought that the man who used to drive you insane would be the only one fit for you? 

That small twinge of hurt you felt minutes ago when Ulani turned away from you resurfaces, but reassurance cools it’s prickly edges. Even though this is a moment you may have been more connected with, it’s Kento who feels the painful side of it a lot more.

So you give him his own moment. You watch quietly as he kisses her chubby cheeks repeatedly, smiling into her skin at the giggles that leave her. You fall into the hum of the world around you as you watch him tuck away the cotton cloth and smooth the curls away from Ulani’s ears, finally admiring the diamonds that twinkle on each side. The lobes will be red for a few days, but for Ulani, she will never think of them again until she’s old enough to pay attention. Until she’s old enough to change them out to match the outfits she decides to wear, different colors and gemstones, and multiples if she ever has a streak of expression in her teenage years. Like you did.

Kento finally looks down at you, chestnut browns sparkling as he takes you in from head to toe. The harsh Shibuya sun beats down on bustling city square, but the rays are soft when they touch him. Tan skin is illuminated gold on his cheekbones, his hair luminous in the sun. You reach up to run a hand through his locks for the second time this afternoon, your heart still not used to the incessant hammering that arises when he leans into your touch.

You lift an accusatory eyebrow at him and hold back a chuckle when you speak. “Our daughter was the soldier this afternoon, and yet I’m coddling you?”

“Keep coddling,” he demands, voice tinged with mirth as he turns to place a kiss inside of your palm and then leans back into your stroking. “Today was very painful for me, have you no shame?” 

You snort and dig your nails into his scalp in retaliation, enjoying the groan that rumbles in the air from your ministrations. “Don’t blame this one moment on your entire day. You had a great run, remember?”

“My slowest three mile run yet.” Quick on the draw, and you already know where this is going. Kento rarely complains, but when he does, it is about the most trivial things as a means to get and keep your attention.

“You made me pancakes this morning.”

“Not my best work. Too much cinnamon in the batter.”

“We made out two hours ago?”

“Ulani woke from her nap and interrupted what would have been a very enjoyable afternoon.” That complaint leaves his mouth in a grumble, and you purse your lips to hold off the laughter that sits in the back of your throat. He’s truly pouting, and god do you love him.

“And now seeing your daughter cry from her first ear piercing was icing on the cake of a bad day, I imagine?”

“Exactly.”

You finally giggle and playfully pull a strand of his hair. He narrows his eyes at you, mischievous yet still carrying that ingrained indifference that you know and love. Ulani shrieks in his arms, finally past her blip of crying and now ready for her parent’s attention. You take in her drool of a smile, slightly red ears, and brown onesie-dress, and the possibilities flood your mind. It’s…very overwhelming when the thoughts hit you: how she will grow into herself, develop her personality, her wants and desires, her hobbies and her dreams. 

“Pay attention to me,” he interrupts your thoughts, and you can’t help the bark of laughter that you give him in response. Ulani mimics you, completely oblivious.

“You’re such a baby, and we have a baby,” you tease, snorting at his level expression and dusty cheeks, slightly shy but absorbing your presence. “You and Ulani have had it rough today. So how about a reward?” You look to your daughter when you ask, knowing damn well she has no idea what you’re saying but you want to include her anyway.

“How about frozen yogurt?” I.e., the unsweetened applesauce in the diaper bag for Ulani and matcha-flavored frozen yogurt for Kento from a favorite vendor a few blocks away. It’s an obsession of his that’s been appearing in the freezer with numbing regularity.

Kento remains unphased by your suggestion, though his lips twitch with the desire to smirk down at you.

“Seeing our daughter in pain was more heartbreaking than I thought. Food may not help, I’m afraid.”

Kento is milking his “pain” at this point, and you’re far too in love with him not to entertain the idea you know is floating in his head. You love this about him, just how playful he is when it comes to you.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” You tap your chin as if you’re thinking hard, humming in contemplation. “How about…” you trail off, a hand sliding up a muscular bicep before massaging his nape again, relishing in the shudder he gives in response, his eyes twitching to hold back the urge to roll into his head in satisfaction. “Since you’ve suffered so much today…we can go home…and I’ll do that thing you like.”

You have the privilege and skill of being able to read Nanami Kento like a book. You don’t miss the glee that dances across his features—the uptick of one side of his mouth, the slow brow lift, the darkening of his irises. He knows exactly what that thing is. You’re pretty good at it—a master at it—and he made you promise that the day he ever turns that thing down, is the day you can leave him.

His cheeks explode in blush, jaw ticking before he clears his throat and smooths a sweaty hand down the dark blue of his shirt.

“I see,” he ponders, looking up to the sky as if in deep thought, and you know if you roll your eyes again, they’ll get stuck. “Well.” He situates Ulani in his arms and presses a few kisses to her cheek again to pull those giggles from her that you both love. “Who am I to deny your mother?” he suggests to his daughter. “Not a moment to waste, Ulani.”

“You’ve got to be kidding—”

“Quickly, before you change your mind.” He slides a hand to the small of your back as a means to hurry you along, pressing softly and turning you in the direction of the car.

You try to bat his hands away from you, giggles growing in volume as he dodges all your attempts to get rid of him. “I’m not going to change my mind, Ken—”

“Quickly.”

He takes your hand and you let him pull you, beaming at his back as he increases his pace. Ulani is happy as can be in her father’s arms and babbling as he talks softly to her.

“A snack before nap time sounds good, doesn’t it? What kind of applesauce would you like today?” She gurgles. “Cinnamon again? Hmmm, we should always try new things, Dove. What about the strawberry ones I bought you yesterday?” A squeal. “Strawberry it is. I think…”

The rest of their conversation fades into the background as you walk with them, warmth coursing through your veins with each step. It’s a warmth that catches you off guard, but has been ever present since Ulani’s birth. And you love every bit of how it feels. How it flows through you with every breath you take. How it only grows every minute, every hour, every day that you create a life with them.

After Ulani is buckled in her car seat and you slide your seat belt into its latch, Kento leans across the armrest, a warm hand sliding against your cheek in a gentle caress before he slants his lips against yours. It’s a surprise, but the shock dies as quickly as it forms as you melt into his touch—full lips that know your own and soft blonde locks brushing your face.

That affection that he pulls from you every day is given back in this moment—freely and without restraint—in the parking lot of Claire’s in Shibuya, where your daughter got her ears pierced for the first time.

When he pulls away and whispers his love for you against your lips, you repeat it back to him without thinking. It’s a motion that you both carry out whenever you can. 

“No more piercings. My heart will probably give out.”

“Do you feel better?” you ask in a tone that is filled with the teasing nature that sticks to you like a second skin.

He loves it, but doesn’t take the bait, and instead kisses your lips again, each cheek, and the tip of your nose. “I will soon.” The innuendo is so obvious you can taste it. He’s been with you too long to be a blushing and awkward man. “Once Ulani is asleep.” You push him away with a giggling huff and savor the deep chuckle that falls from his lips, permeating the air of the car.

As Kento drives through the crowded streets towards your shared home in Nakameguro, the hand not on the steering wheel envelops yours, a thumb stroking the skin of your palm. You look out the window and observe the colors and cars that zoom by, and the sound of a deep breath behind you makes you look back. And when you do, your heart gives a painful but welcoming lurch as you gaze at her. Your daughter already asleep, her head dipping to the side—curly locks askew and sticking to the drool on her face, and her new diamond earrings shining back at you.

Thanks for reading!

[fadingdaggerr]

Can you make a fic based on my two fav melissa schementti fantasies

melissa calling reader by pet names and making them completely flustered x melissa making reader jealous on purpose

basically all this happens before they date/confess

and when melissa has had enough of reader not making any moves and hiding from her, melissa takes charge and ends up making out w reader.

i know this is a little difficult to write but tysm i really love ur fics 😭🫶🫶

wishful thinking

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above!

warnings/includes: ridiculously clueless!r and a not clueless mel, gary but only for plot purposes, making out

translations: gioia (joy/happiness), tesoro (darling/treasure), gavone (pig/slob)

note: i’m so sorry i haven’t been active. i’ve been dealing with a lot the last few months and haven’t had even a second to breathe. better note at the end <3

Melissa would never admit to anyone how much she liked the effect she had on you. She loved to watch your head duck down nervously when she complimented you or guided you along with a hand on your lower back. Every single time she left the light tremor of your body, but not once did she mention it. You were glad she couldn’t feel your heartbeat the moment her attention was on you.

—

The first time she noticed it changed her entire perspective on you.

Melissa wasn’t the kind to talk to the new hires, the turnover rates at Abbott were laughable and they never stayed more than a couple of months. But after a few months, she started to pay attention. Over time, she got to see just how much you really cared for the kids. She had stopped by to ask if you had an extra purple whiteboard marker, but she was met with the sight of you kneeling in front of one of your students, big, sad tears in her eyes. She could just barely hear the mutterings of I know it hurts sweetie and the one that made a little smile cross her lips, of course I have shark band-aids, what am i? A chump? She sees you start to stand to grab the bandage and decides to move now before she gets caught staring.

Right as she steps close to you, you rise and spin around. Your action staggers as you notice her form too late, and nearly falling as you try to avoid running into her, nearly. Strong hands grasp your upper arms, saving you from landing flat on your ass.

Your head tilts up to face her, finally registering that it was Melissa. It takes you a second to breathe before you let out a little, “thank you.”

“Of course, hon. My fault anyways,” she says with a small smile. There’s an almost too long pause before she realizes her hands are still on your arms, dropping them immediately to fold them across her chest. You’re almost in a daze just looking at her, but you have to keep up appearances.

“Did you need something?” You say with a soft smile. Melissa noticed how your eyes never left hers for a second after she called you hon, she also thinks that you’d never looked her in the eyes before then. It had never gone unnoticed that you always looked at her bangs or the frame of her glasses whenever you’d spoken before.

Interesting... Melissa thinks to herself.

—

And then Melissa began to see a pattern.

You’d given her the extra dollar she needed for her iced tea, four quarters stacked tails-up in front of her. She didn’t ask anyone, only sighed when she checked her purse.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Melissa said without really thinking.

Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before you catch yourself, accompanied by a quick inhale. Licking your lips and averting your eyes from her, you quietly say, “yeah. of course, anytime.”

Barbara must notice Melissa’s intrigue suddenly and speaks up, “dear, why don’t you come sit with us? I don’t think we’ve gotten a chance to know each other just yet.”

This marked the start of yours and Melissa’s friendship.

—

“You got plans Saturday?” Melissa says as she pours a cup of coffee into her Tucci mug.

You look up from your phone and take a breath in, “I have lunch with my cousin at noon, but I’m free later on. Why, what do you have planned?”

“That flea market’s coming back around, the one with the good antiques and the petting zoo,” you almost speak but she cuts you off, “oh, and that apple cider you liked.”

You smile at her remembering that detail before responding, “yeah, that sounds perfect. I can text you when I leave the diner.” Your voice thankfully doesn’t seem to give away how nervous you were trying not to seem. You take a sip from your mug to hide yourself for a moment.

“Great. I’m looking forward to it, babe,” she says through a sip of her own coffee. She stays just long enough to watch you nearly choke on your tea, and then slips out to walk to her classroom with a satisfied smirk on her face.

—

At the development week meeting, she turned to see you looking around for a place to sit. When you miss her wave to get your attention, she decides to yell your name across the gymnasium to get you to look in her direction. Your head whips her way, a grateful smile on your face when you see her waving you over. She decidedly loves the shy smile that was reserved for only her.

Stepping over nurse Makiah to get to the free seat, you finally plop down next to the redhead. Something possesses Melissa and her arm moves on its own to rest across the back of your seat, hand resting on your arm. She feels you stiffen for a moment, almost thinking she’d overstep, but you relax into her touch.

“You didn’t have to save me a seat. These are prime real estate to bleacher-leaners,” you mumble to her as one of the eighth grade teachers goes on about something that wasn’t as important as her fingers tracing little patterns over your shirt.

Melissa chuckles lightly, squeezing your shoulder lightly. She leans in to answer, “but then I wouldn’t have you sitting here, tesoro.” Your eyes go to your lap as you fail to hide the smile from her words, making the redhead’s heart rate pick up.

“You’re too nice to me, Schemmenti,” you say as you lift your head, with what little courage you have, to look at her and smile, leaning into her for a second.

—

Then an idea struck Melissa

Tuesday was vending machine restock day. Tuesday was your new least favorite day of the week. Totally unrelated.

Gary, the vending machine guy, had started a habit of flirting with Melissa. He started with giving her a free iced tea straight from the truck, and then chatting, then complimenting, and then just straight up checking her out with no shame. Every time he entered the room, your voice died in your throat, and your eyes stayed trained on him with a special kind of hatred. You were at least thankful Melissa hadn’t noticed the rage you felt when he had a conversation with her breasts. Melissa, in fact, did notice.

She watched how you stared daggers into his back as he spoke to her, completely unaware of her attention flicking to you every now and then. Your fork angrily stabbed at the lunch she’d brought you, not a single bite being taken since the vendor walked in the door. The more forward Gary got, the quieter and angrier you became. Once he left and Melissa’s focus went back to you entirely, as it always was, your shoulders relaxed and the assault on the pasta stopped.

Melissa decides she has a theory to test. She plays into Gary’s flirting some more, enough that the man is clearly picking up on it, and your hand stills. By the third week, Barbara is begging her to go on a date with the man.

“Girl, he likes you. You should give it a shot, he’s a nice man. Handsome too,” Barbara says with enthusiasm. Your eyes roll as you look at your phone, trying to tune out this conversation. Your resolve cracks a little when Ava mumbles that’s generous in response to Barbara’s comment, a tiny chuckle espacing you.

The kindergarten teacher nudges your hand, “don’t you think she should go for it?”

You struggle with trying to not just flat out say no so instead you settle with, “yeah. Gary seems really nice.” The thin smile on your face is unconvincing to both women, and it’s easy to read on both their faces. You quickly grab your stuff and stand, “I’m gonna head back to my room and pass out their math quizzes. I’ll see you later.”

Once the door closes behind you, Barbara looks at Melissa, “what was that?”

Melissa just shrugs, feigning obliviousness.

When Gary finally gets the nerve to ask her out, she laughs and agrees. You think the gods above must have it out for you, not letting you escape any interaction between the two. The fork in your hand just stabs harder at the food in the tupperware. After watching with a tinge of regret, Melissa finally speaks up.

“You alright over there, gioia?” She asks, her voice filled with real concern. You look at her for a moment, considering what to say, but settle with a nod. When your gaze drops again, you miss her lips dipping into a small frown.

—

Monday morning after the big date, you realize that being in the lounge was a mistake. You should have known to go straight to your classroom, but the need to see Melissa overrode your actions.

As you walked in, everyone was facing Melissa and asking her about every little detail of the date. Where’d they go? Was the food good? Did he offer to pay it all or ask to split the bill? What did she wear? She gives them all they want to hear, and only Ava asks what you didn’t want to know.

“Cut the bull. Did you let him hit or not?”

A chorus of AVA! goes around the room.

The redhead just sighs before answering, “why did you say it like that? And no, I did not ‘let him hit,’ Ava.” You hate that some tension leaves your shoulders after that. The rest of the time is spent with your eyes trained at the floor and ringing in your ears.

Melissa regrets her idea a lot more when she stops seeing your smile altogether and your eyes stop meeting hers.

—

She finally snaps.

Janine had planned to make a whole outing for the Abbott crew, inviting everyone out to a new arcade-bar that Erica had told her about. She’d told Melissa that she should invite Gary, saying that everyone wanted to meet him in a social setting and not just in the ten minutes he was in the school every Tuesday. Inviting Gary couldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

Gary’s phone went to voicemail for the fifth time and all eight of her texts were unanswered. He said he would come, that he wanted to meet everyone for real, but now he was a no show. Melissa felt like a teenager again, getting stood up by her date to homecoming while she waited outside for him. She turned to walk back in, almost running into you as you were coming to check on her.

“Everything alright?” You ask, knowing the answer already since she can’t hide her emotions well when she’s upset.

She huffs a laugh, “peachy. Jackass said he would be here almost an hour ago and won’t return my calls or anything.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” You ask jokingly, but there’s a certain hope she’ll say yes that sits in your chest. Your heart almost can’t handle it when she smiles at your words, arm looping with yours as she drags you to the pinball machines.

You’d probably lost a student-loan payment in quarters by the time either of you had even won a single game you played. In the course of two hours, both of you had only managed to get a collective hundred tickets that could maybe win you each an eraser. Melissa pretends to not notice you cheating in the driving games, and you pretend not to notice her taking quarters from your cup.

You watch an equally competitive Ava and Melissa play a scary-good match of air hockey, each of them likely to have bruises on their knuckles by the end of the night from how hard they played. Each time she scored, the redhead’s eyes moved to you for approval, and each time she’s met with a little applause and smile from you.

“Wasn’t your man supposed to be here? Or were the Kit-Kats not behaving?” Ava says when they finally take a break from the game to take a drink.

Melissa just shrugs, “he hasn’t answered anything. If the gavone decides to say anything, then he’ll be getting an earful, or a bat to the head. Depends on what he says.”

“Do you even like this idiot?” Ava asks incredulously, saying exactly what you’d been thinking for weeks since they’d had their first date.

Melissa shrugs, “he’s alright. The first date was nice, but the rest have just been him trying to get in my pants.”

“Well,” Ava’s brows bounced a couple times, “are you gonna let him in or not?”

You check out entirely before listening to Melissa’s answer, not even caring how suddenly you left the conversation, just letting your legs carry you until you could finally breathe. You find yourself back with the old pinball machines that no one but you and Melissa had played. Only a few seconds of silence manages to pass before you hear the muffled stomp of boots on carpet, stopping right behind you.

“You gonna tell me what that was?” Melissa asks with your back facing her.

You should have known it was her that would follow you. Part of you wanted to lie and say that the drinks made you feel sick, but you both knew that they were too watered down to even intoxicate a toddler. The other part of you just wanted to scream about how it should be you on those dates with her, driving her home and walking her to the door. You turned to meet her eyes and any courage you had left, feeling like putty when she was so focused on you and you alone. Even though you know what her response will be, you just say, “it was nothing. I’ll be back inside in a minute.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” she says, stepping closer, “you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Just... I dunno, just leaving. You can be in the same room as me and it feels like you’re miles away.”

Your gaze drops to your feet, suddenly feeling insecure now that you know she’s noticed your behavior. You put all your energy into stabling your voice and keeping your lips from quivering at the thought of upsetting her. All you can muster in a tiny voice is, “I’m sorry.”

Melissa surprises you by pulling you into a tight hug, whispering to you, “is this about Gary?” Your heart stops at her words, knowing you’d been found out. The lack of answer and the way your body stiffens tells Melissa everything she needs to know, what she already knew.

Melissa knows that you’ll likely try to explain away anything the second she loosens her hold on you, that you’ll run and she’ll never get this close ever again. So she does the only thing that she can think of at this moment.

As she pulls away, Melissa’s hands cup your face, pulling you into her lips. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel her lips press against yours, soft and eager. After a moment, she realizes you’re not kissing her back, her heart cracking as she pulls away from you, ready to run. Her hands drop from your face, eyes blinking rapidly as doubt clouds her mind. Your mind catches up, realizing what had just happened. Melissa begins to turn to leave, but is stopped by your hand in hers. You tug her back to you, cupping her face and leaning forward to finally kiss her back.

She tasted like lipstick and watery vodka, her hands were warm against your wrists where they held tightly. Your mind was in hyperdrive as you took in her lips and her touch, hardly noticing her moving you until your hips met the game behind you. Melissa’s lips parted, her tongue brushing across your bottom lip to ask for entry. You were quick to allow her in, letting her dominate your lips as her hands dropped to grab at your waist. The taste of her lips and tongue became quickly addictive, the feeling even more so. Your hands migrate from her face to her hair, pulling her even closer to you as the kiss turns sloppy from the sheer desperation radiating from both of you.

Melissa’s hands grab at your hips harder as you tug at copper strands, cold fingers creeping under your shirt to rest against warm skin. The force of her body leaning further into you boggles the machine you’re pressed against making a loud buzzer sound and the automated voice yell just a quarter to play! The sudden noises make you both jump, breaking the kiss. Your eyes meet and you both stifle a laugh at the whole thing. Her lips immediately gravitate back to yours, this time softer. The smile you feel against your lips brings your own out, breaking the kiss again. You drop your head against her shoulder, basking in her presence and her hands on your skin.

“You knew,” is all you say, voice muffled against her shirt.

She smiles and rests her head against yours, “I did.”

“How long?”

“The whole time, give or take,” she’s a little surprised when your head pops up, almost smacking her chin.

Your eyes stare straight into hers, “and you said nothing?”

“You didn’t say shit either, don’t even start,” she says with a laugh, no malice hiding in her voice. Her only response is a grumble that sounds something like touché.

There’s so much love behind your eyes, it chokes her up. The way your eyes never left hers, something she missed in the last month, made her feel like the most precious stone. She looks at you for a moment longer before quietly asking, “can I kiss you again?”

The smallest smile crosses your lips as you answer in an equally quiet tone, “you can kiss me whenever you want, Schemmenti.”

feedback appreciated as always <3

note: again i’m sorry for not being active. i started school again and have been working full time while also being a full time student. i also had a death in the family that hit me very hard mentally and i had to take a step back as to not end up in the hospital. i’m going to try to be more active and take time to write more. thank u for being so patient. ilyvm

[ilovelyneysm07]

Shooting Stars - SAGAU!Lyney x Player Part 1

Summary: Shooting Stars were always a weird occurrence in the world of Teyvat, so when they suddenly stop, certain magician can't help but wonder if it has to do with the strange aching in his chest.

CW: Self Aware AU, NOT Cult AU or Creator AU, Angsty, the Reader is referred as Player, Based on my own Genshin Account, Pretty Self-Indulgent, GN!Player, Cross-posted on AO3, English is not my first language and I'm not an experienced writer

Taglist: @yurislilygarden @yurislotusgarden

Lyney had a weird feeling in his chest for a while, like a strange ache that won’t go away, it didn’t affect his shows in any kind of way, having perfected his stage persona, a little ache in his chest is not going to make him fail, but in the back of his mind, he can’t help but wonder what’s going on.

It all started a few months ago, the once bright blue sky turned dark and shooting stars fell from it, a golden star different from the rest, falling towards the Palais Mermonia, or rather, near it. Many people were worried about what was going on, but many others were already used to the phenomena that was the strange “shooting stars” that happened from time to time. Some stars fell into Inazuma, some others into Liyue, even some fell into Sumeru. Nobody knows why this happens, only that if a star falls on you, you receive a strange aura around you.

After that month’s event, and Miss Furina was walking around freely and with a smile on her face, the shooting stars suddenly… stopped, the sky returning to the usual bright blue. No clouds, no movement, just blue.

With each passing day, the ache in Lyney’s chest increased, the lack of dark skies made his mind wonder if it had something to do with the ache he felt in his chest. Why did the shooting stars stop falling? Does it really have something to do with him?

The magician went over to his dear sister, to ask her if she felt something similar, but she just shrugged, saying that she suddenly felt an aura surrounding her, no shooting star needed (Lyney failed to notice the way her eyes avoided his gaze, slight frown in her face).

Then the magician wanted to ask his younger brother, but he already knew the answer, as the month before the last dark sky, a shooting star fell into Freminet while he was diving in the waters of Fontaine, purple aura surrounding him (Lyney also failed to notice the nervous stare Freminet send his way).

Questions kept surrounding the magician’s mind, while his eyes were glued to the starry night sky, wondering if one of those stars is gonna fall. Maybe fall on him too, please?

Lyney can’t lie that he felt a little bit jealous of his siblings, both being “blessed” (that’s how many people saw it) by the shooting stars, both being surrounded by that weird purple aura. He didn’t want to feel like this again, feeling like he’s falling behind his sister or that he’s not strong enough to be the “older brother” figure anymore.

He can’t help but feel helpless. Will he be blessed like his siblings? What’s so special about this “blessing” anyway?

While looking at the night sky outside the window in the Opera Epiclese, his thought bubble gets interrupted when he hears people muttering among each other in the dressing room. Now, he’s not one to eavesdrop (at least, not when he’s not commanded to), but the topic of the conversation catched his interest.

“Why do you think the shooting stars stopped?” one of the staff members of his shows said, Lyney could hear the sound of boxes moving inside as he got closer.

“Honestly? I have no idea. They were already inconsistent, but to suddenly stop? Now that’s weird.” the other staff member said, their steps giving the hint that they were moving around rather quickly.

“Do you have any theories, though? I heard that the last one to receive the blessing was Lady- Miss Furina, and she sometimes is seen walking around with a golden aura around her! Golden!-” a loud sound could be heard, alongside the kinda loud scream of the staff member. “Sorry!”

“Be careful, but yeah, that never happened before, right? Miss Lynette has a purple aura, alongside Mister Freminet.” some steps could be heard, and more boxes were being moved around.

“Wait- what about Mister Lyney? Did you see any kind of aura in him?” Lyney felt his body tense at the mention of his name. A silence fell in the place, no boxes were moved and no footsteps could be heard. “Wait… does he have an aura?”

“I… don’t think so. Then again, only a few people in Fontaine have it.” more silence, and then footsteps started coming to the door, startling Lyney.

“His siblings do… Why not him?”

The door opened, and the two staff members started walking towards the hallway, some boxes in their hands. Lyney emerged from his hiding place, his gaze strangely blank.

“Why not him?”

-

On the other side of the screen, an excited player was looking at their primogem count. 296 wishes in their virtual wallet and 20 intertwined fates. They then watched all the materials needed in the ascension planner; everything was good, all of the materials checked, including his weapon’s materials (if they get it).

The player smiled to themselves and opened the wishing menu, seeing the 3 day(s) left message under the iudex’s banner. They took a deep breath and closed the game for the day, determination in their eyes.

Lyney, you will be mine. They thought with a smile on their face.

A/N: In celebration of Lyney's rerun, I made this. It's kinda angsty, but don't worry, things will get better when his banner comes out :P

[quasarzt]

Been thinking more about roleswap as of late (I really want to write a fanfic of the time trampoline malfunctioning as a way to crossover AUs with canon, and I want roleswap zach and canon aviva to meet so bad because that friendship breakup has GOT to hurt worse after seeing what could’ve been. the things they could’ve accomplished)

BUT THATS BESIDES THE POINT. HERE’S MESSY SKETCHES. Meet the Varmint Crew!

Here’s their Pinterest Board! very much a WIP lmao, you can find my other stuff too on my account if you stalk me

I’ve got a lot to say about design choices/etc under the cut!

Everyone with a suit is someone who wears one! Tried to resemble canon. Also because Zach is paranoid that Aviva is after his tech, so making more suits for the team tends to stress him out. I’ll make another post for the villains (also sorry the bros won’t be villains in my version of this au. mostly bc again, they’re real guys. and i don’t want them to be mean to animals. they’ll basically be the same as in canon, but just doing their own thing. working mostly with the fictional characters here!! Basically think of the Kratt Bros doing Kratt’s Creatures/Zaboomafoo instead of Wild Kratts. Which if you think about a roleswap, they went from main characters to side characters).

Zach: Zach’s skin shade, freckles, and hair come from his kid design! And the color of his sweater comes from Toodles. I color shifted the pants to be more of a grey hue, instead of one with a bit of purple in it (mostly because Aviva is going to have the purple motif in this). Basically a Zach who actually goes out into the sun! He’s a very anxious yet excited individual, studying the brains of the animals and making breakthroughs in science with it. Similar to canon Aviva but keeping that mind aspect from canon Zach as well, so I chose for him to be interested in neuroscience, using that as a base (plus chemistry knowledge) to create the information needed for the suits. He still studies DNA, just has the added brain studies for animals! He’s discovered a few animal friends who had brain tumors and has found a way to help slow/stop the process. I decided to go with chips instead of discs because I wanted to incorporate that V design into the paws, for Varmint Crew. They operate in the same way as canon suits do. Although I wanted to make their suits a bit more animalistic, not in any bad sort of way, just more accurate to the animals in a way they aren’t just fursuits LMAO. He is inspired by both canon Aviva and Chris.

Donita: I decided to go with a safari type of vibe with her! She wanted to match with Zach, as both of them are the dedicated field agents for the team (she shoves Dabio onto the field with them sometimes too, the kid needs the experience). She makes all the uniforms and helps Zach out with the design choices when it comes to the powered suits. She’s been in the field working with birds for a while, finding their beauty to be very inspiring for her artwork. I decided she would take on the role as Martin and Koki, as she’s very excitable as well, and is very well versed in talking to others. With the help of Dabio and Paisley, she sets up events where they can work with the Varmint Kids and do informative animal showings. Her colors were a bit icky to me, but I’m sticking with them for now. Colors were picked from her canon design. She does most of the naming of animals! She doesn’t think Zach’s very creative (he has a habit of naming things their latin names). Wears just gemstone earrings to not interfere with her work, although I see her wearing feather earrings too!

Dabio: He used to model before he joined the crew, upset by the animal use in the fashion industry. He’s the youngest on the team, but is just as passionate about what he does as the others. Donita has fully taken him under her wing, and has been showing him the ropes. He’s the first of the crew to get a creature power suit outside of the two main prototypes. This helps Zach out tremendously because now he can be an observer to help get out any bugs in the suits systems. He helps with communications, but more often than not, is the one who’s doing the documenting of information. He’s a photographer for the crew, and also works as a cinematographer, and has helped produce animal documentaries for the Varmint Crew. He also has a safari aesthetic, following in Donita’s footsteps and never giving up for his eye for fashion. He’s a field agent occasionally. His suit color is teal/turquoise, reminiscent of his shirt color and Donita’s earrings, this is just a color I’ve always associated with him.

Gourmand: The crews dedicated chef and animal nutritionist! With his knowledge of health, he’s the crews designated nurse/medic as well. His vast knowledge of how to find animals in the field, especially with his great sense of smell, has helped the crew tremendously when saving animals. He also likes to sing, and often sings random jazzy songs while he bakes animal themed pastries and meals inspired by the region/animal of the day. He often helps out injured animals, and is put on baby animal duty the most. I just hue shifted his pants to a more vibrant green, and then made it so his shirt wasn’t all the way white. He just wears a regular polo for now, with the logo of the Varmint Crew on his left breast pocket. He is a very joyous and boisterous team member, and is often the crews pick-me-up when the others are stressed from work. His suit color if he ever agrees to wearing a suit (he’s like Jimmy in that regard), will be a sage green, like his eye color. Yes he is Zach’s cousin in my AU. This is because of my headcanon that they’re related in some way because of the fact they both have the same voice actor (Zachary Bennett). Because of this, Zach and Gourmand are going to be related, hence why they’re cousins!

Paisley: An environmental architect and conservationist! She mostly travels with the crew to understand animals better and what their needs are to produce the best possible habitats for them. She’s the fourth one on the team to get a suit, initially it was going to rex, but he urged her to get out there in the wild to see the creature world for herself. She’s a bit of a germaphobe, but otherwise understands that her job is going to be messy, and she has to deal with that. She’s very passionate about what she does, and she wants to help the world, and the world for animals alike. She knows deforestation is detrimental to the planet, so she wants to find and explore ways to make green architecture that both supports people and animals lives. She works with water ways and forests alike, studying them and how they operate in the grand scheme of things. Her colors were color picked from her canon outfit, and her suit color is a light purplish gray that borders on white.

Rex: The crews pilot and mechanic/engineer. He is often operating most of the heavy machinery, and is the one who fixes most of the broken equipment. He takes on the role of Koki, as well as canon Rex. The garage of the ship is his place of work. Zach and him often work together, and Paisley often drops off blueprints for habitats she has in mind on his desk, which always ends up in a massive pile. Eventually gets a suit as well, Zach just has to make another. His suit color will be orange. I kept his vest look with an orange sweater vest, and now he wears a yellow baseball hat (mostly to hide his receding hairline at the ripe age of 25). He’s the second youngest in the group. Him and Dabio get along great, and tend to pair up if Paisley or Donita don’t nab them first. Basically rex flies the ship (Thinking Terrator or something. It’s not the Tortuga, but the Varmint Crew version of that, perhaps a flying beetle? idk yet. this is a WIP). He also does most of the repairs, this lets Zach have enough time to focus on his projects instead of being stuck taking care of things that can be done by someone else. However anything dealing with the suits is purely to be operated and meddled by Zach.

[anonymouscapybara]

people say the worst SI unit is the mole. "ohhh but it's just a number it doesn't even have anything attached it doesn't deserve to be an official unit" BZZZ WRONG

the worst unit is the candela. the candela is stupid.

what's the candela, you ask? well, it measures the brightness of light

"oh that sounds reasonable" you say, "just measure the energy or power emitted!" nope. they would not do anything nearly so simple. a lightbulb emitting a watt of yellow light is more candelas than a lightbulb emitting a watt of red light.

"ok that's weird" you say, "but maybe they're adjusting for that somehow? maybe it measures number of photons?" again, that would be far too reasonable. a lightbulb emitting a fixed rate of yellow-light photons is more candelas than the same rate of purple-light photons.

but what are they even measuring then? what else is there to measure? clearly they ran out of ideas while making up units, because what they're actually measuring is the SUBJECTIVE BRIGHTNESS OF LIGHT TO THE HUMAN EYE. the candela is STUPID

a reasonable question to ask is: how would you even measure the brightness of light to the human eye? aren't a lot of human eyes different? don't different things look bright in different circumstances? aren't there colorblind people in the world?

surely the General Conference on Weights and Measures, which spent millions precisely calibrating magnetic quantum flux to avoid basing the kilogram on a random block in France, has a clever solution!

no. no they don't. the candela is stupid.

as far as I can tell, what you do is you first measure how much light of each wavelength comes in. Then you multiply each measurement by a "luminosity function", which measures brightness to the human eye:

you will notice that there are multiple functions shown in this diagram. the SI system has five of these, for different lighting conditions. do your lighting conditions not exactly follow one of the Five Official Standardized Lighting Conditions? guess you're out of luck then.

and whose eye are we using? why, the Official Standardized CIE Photometric Observer, of course: the "ideal observer having a relative spectral responsivity that conforms to a CIE-defined spectral luminous efficiency function for human vision"

(and no I can't show you this function because the fine people of the ISO put it BEHIND A PAYWALL. who puts measurements determining a fundamental SI unit BEHIND A PAYWALL. the candela is stupid)

all right, so we're measuring a fundamental unit using a (nonexistent) idealized observer in one of five random lighting conditions. how did they find the values for this? i'm...not entirely sure. but here's a glimpse, based on a few of the most recent studies I found used for this:

"...heterochromatic (minimum) flicker photometric data obtained from 40 observers (35 males, 5 females) of known genotype..."

"To obtain an estimate of the mean L-cone fundamental, we weighted [weird variables] according to the ratio of 0.56 L(S180) to 0.44 L(A180) found in the normal, male Caucasian population...and averaged them together"

that's right, our Official Objective Brightness Unit is probably sexist and racist. none of the other SI units have a chance to be sexist and racist. a meter is a meter in every country on Earth. 6.022*10^23 For Women is still 6.022*10^23. but the candela is-- probably-- the white man's candela, because you can absolutely bet that genetic drift around the world gives different values for this stuff.

in summary: my opinion, as you might have guessed, is that the candela is stupid. hopefully you agree with me after reading this that we need to completely eradicate it from the planet. failing that could we at not give it the same level of officialness as the meter or the kilogram?