#any fic. it doesn't matter if its one of mine or not

[vagabond-umlaut]

a battle well begun is the war half won

gojo notices you. you notice gojo. [the boy wants your eyes on him at all times.]

teen!gojo x fem!reader; first meetings; love at first sight[??]; lovesick gojo[??]; mostly fluffy; 1 small discussion on death; reader is in 1st yr whilst gojo is in 3rd yr; gojo has a very... unique definition of romancing in his brain; 'one-sided enemies to lovers' vibes; 2.2k wc

belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna

the og saying is smthng else, yeah... ik. i js tweaked it a bit for fic title purposes, hehe. also, pls no comments on how i named this series... i used to hv a love-hate thing with pseudo-force problems in physics during my hs... and i'm srsly out of ideas :D

header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

the sky bleeds green, the first time gojo sees you fight.

it isn't anything enthralling. your movements, far from well-practised. your twisted expression screams unease at best, extreme discomfort at worst— you are definitely not one of the best sorcerers the boy has seen so far—

yet he finds himself utterly transfixed.

feet rooted to the earth as an even brighter green beam cuts through the forest. and the second mountain of cursed energy becomes a few wisps of smoke. your form slumping to the ground not long after—

were the boy a better person at heart, he reckons he would've rushed to help you. but he isn't. not really.

so he keeps to his vantage point. blue eyes narrowing a touch behind his shades, as they watch you slowly heave yourself off the mud, face shifting into a scowl as you trudge towards a tree and plop down with no ceremony in front of it—

a barely-there rustle to his left.

followed by the appearance of the steady simmer of a cursed energy, all too familiar.

"yo, nanamin!" gojo greets, wearing a wide beam the second the said kouhai comes before him, feet carefully and soundlessly treading the rugged terrain— the latter's perpetual glower turns into a momentary flicker of surprise.

but it's vanished before the older boy can comment on it.

nanami's face flattens back to its usual state of annoyed indifference.

"the tournament is already over. yaga-sensei wants us all to report to him in another ten..." the boy trails off. rather abruptly. rather strange for him— aha! so nanamin has finally spotted you in the valley below, huh?— gojo wraps an arm around his kouhai's shoulders, allowing his gaze to return to you as well.

you look pretty cute when you're yawning...

"she's from kyoto, isn't she?"

"yes," the younger boy replies, pinning gojo under a curious look. but it's gone all too soon, all too swiftly like the ones preceding. he drops the arm resting on his shoulder.

gojo lets him. simply pouting in response, before he hums, "do you know her?"

"personally, no," nanami is quick to answer, "but from what i've heard from others... she's somewhat peculiar, if i may say so."

this is honestly one of the best opportunities he will ever get to tease that stoic underclassman of his, even more 'cause since when did he, the nanami kento, start gossipping like old geezers!?— but gojo opts to let this chance pass by.

getting more deets on you is way more important for him.

he doesn't bother to hide his burgeoning interest from his tone. "you know her name by any chance?"

nanami does. and as far as gojo knows, your surname doesn't belong to any of the sorcerer clans. none of the major clans, he is pretty sure of that— you might be from a minor one. or, what his gut feelings are telling him, you're from a non-sorcerer background.

not that it matters to him. he is better than the elders of his clan.

"and which year is she in?"

"first year."

wow. you haven't been in school for more than a few months, but you have already managed to make people talk about yourself, huh? quite impressive, gojo thinks as he steals another glance of you.

this time, no longer yawning. just staring vacantly at your keds—

except those muddy shoes are no longer the object of your attention. it is him— really, so very him— your bright, blinding, blindingly bright gaze, every ounce of it focused on him, as your back straightens. and he spots your shoulders tense, brows furrow—

gojo satoru doesn't run away.

he is one of the strongest duo of jujutsu sorcerers. the boy does not, he cannot, he must not run away... yet that's what he does when his gaze collides with you the first time.

grabbing nanami's hand and wasting not one moment to warp them both to the school rooftop, his kouhai's yelp of surprise goes with an ear-piercing whistle of the winds— gojo releases his hold on the boy, the moment his feet touch the concrete— and turns to him, eyes the calmest he can make them seem.

"tell me everything you know about her— like, right now— or i will tell your dear geto-senpai you were the one who finished his melon pan— quit glaring and start speaking, nanamin!!!"

****

turns out, nanami's heart has a very soft corner for gojo's best friend.

also turns out, the third-year need not wait till the breakfast at 10 am tomorrow, to approach you— you amble into his life, dressed in a tad too washed-out set of pajamas and a terrible hairstyle— gojo reckons an angel too would look the same, when you flip the kitchen lights on, making the clock seem a halo-ey thing behind your head.

you stop. suck in a sharp breath.

the boy swallows the last bit of his mochi. and grins.

"heeey! you're the newbie from kyoto, right? heard a lot 'bout you!"

honestly? it was less of hearing and more of extracting info, but gojo decides not to mention it. you don't have any business knowing that, whatever can be the case— ten painfully slow seconds tick by before you return him a response—

a stiff smile.

an even stiffer bow.

followed by you turning on your heel.

were gojo any slower, you would've slipped from the kitchen without any doubt. but he isn't. which is why not even four seconds can pass before he stills you again, this time not by his tall figure lounging in a terrifyingly dark kitchen but by his fingers grasping your wrist.

thumb pressing into the dangerously frantic pulse beneath your skin.

you try to snatch your hand away. and the boy lets you. only 'cause he was too distracted by the furious warmth of embarrassment creeping into your pretty face— no, it is not for how your skin felt a tad too soft beneath the callouses of his palm...

you're the first one to speak this time. voice so quiet... so firm.

"i don't think i can help you with anything, senpai. please don't bother me this way. let me go... please."

no way in hell is gojo bothering you right now— the indignant retort is the first thing the boy can think of. but he resolves to bite it back.

a stupid argument isn't how he wants his story with you to start. sure, there might and will be those later on, but not now. no. he shoots the second grin of his this night, your way.

"aw, i don't need your help with anything— but yeah, you're right. i'm not supposed to stop you like this... you need to sleep enough before tomorrow's one-on-one duels, don't ya?"

"yeah," you agree easily, eyes drifting to your shoes in a small nod.

gojo's grin widens.

maybe like a cheshire cat.

maybe like a victor cat who finally got the rat right where he wanted: in his paws.

"but you won't be needing a lot of rest if you're already determined to lose the match tomorrow— will you now?"

no, you won't. you obviously won't. gojo has learnt enough about you to predict this much accurately; but maybe not too accurately. given you don't show any sliver of shock or fear in return.

just two eyebrows raised, only to slowly descend to their original level a moment later. your tone feels firmer this time. "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?"

"nothing too serious," the boy hums easily, stuffing his hands into his trousers pockets. why do they start being so cold, so clammy now of all times??— "just that it doesn't take a hell lot of work to maintain an image of being an incompetent idiot, like the one you always seem to be— c'mon," the boy coaxes, making his voice seem extra petulant at noticing still no emotion whatsoever on your face, "you do know what i'm speaking of, don't you?"

in retrospect, maybe... he should have handled you with greater care. you're not only new to your school, but also to the world of sorcery in general. pressing you so hard will hurt you, if not break you entirely— but gojo doesn't let such concerns form in his mind. not even for one whole second.

not when he wants to see something, anything come to life in those bright eyes of yours. he is dying to see a spark in them.

you fold your arms across your chest. brows nearing in a mild scowl. gojo doesn't really understand, but loves the sense of joy the sight is bringing him— "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?" your adorable voice repeats, stonier than before.

he resists the urge to pinch your cheeks. or worse, coo at you.

the boy removes his hands from his pockets. copying your stance as he says, "i cannot really tell you anything, y'know— you're almost as smart as me— i mean, tricking those stinking geezers into believing you're just some weakass, with neither a cursed technique nor good fighting skills, despite the insane amount of cursed energy you've..."

"why did you never curb your cursed energy, by the way?" the query slips past his lips into the space in between: horribly genuine. a fact that doesn't escape your eye, he grasps when you reply— in spite of the not-too-little reluctance marking your features.

"the higher-ups were aware of my high cursed energy before i even knew what the hell it was— it was honestly too late," you state in an awfully matter-of-fact tone, "they would have noticed if i tried to do anything to it."

the 'and they would have harmed me or my family' goes unsaid, but gojo doesn't need to hear it to know it. not entirely intentionally, his voice grows softer with the next question.

"but you tampered with something that no one knew anything of yet— you lied about having no cursed technique, didn't you?"

your hesitation overpowers you this time, however. brows furrowing for a beat at him, before they flatten again. you offer a curt nod.

few more seconds borrowed until you speak again, "but my horrible fighting skills weren't a lie entirely... i really am shit at fighting— you saw that today, did you not?"

he did. he so did—

but that very moment, he also saw just how strong your technique is. surely not as powerful as his. but pretty much capable on its own— it frankly won't be a serious issue even if you keep fighting how you did today—

the sound of a yawn breaks his internal musings.

those big eyes of yours blink up at him. so bleary, so bright. he stifles the urge to pinch your cheeks again. deciding to shoo away the sleep in your eyes by throwing the next ask his brain has cooked up. one he knows, has the biggest 'yes!' ever for its answer—

"you're very scared of dying, aren't you? that's why you always make yourself seem so weak— so much so that you aren't assigned to any mission— don't you?"

— only to question his brain when he notes the easy smile twist your lips. it sharpens at the edges as you answer, "dying's rather easy and uncomplicated, senpai. it doesn't really scare me, except maybe, the pain i might have to suffer— but do you know what's scarier??"

"no," gojo says back quietly. honestly. your smile grows something an awful lot similar to pity— the boy detests it usually... but coming from you, he thinks he will take it.

he will take any look you're willing to give him.

as long as it's you on the other side—

your words reach him quieter than the breeze outside. "what's more terrifying is the worry of what is going to happen to your loved ones, should you just die someday— death is inevitable, but i just want to stave it off for as long as i can. just so i may live with my family... you know what, senpai?" you interrupt yourself abruptly, voice becoming the sharpest in these last fifteen minutes.

a feeble sound escapes the boy.

he isn't sure if it's because of that sincere little hum in your words or if it is the gleam of the moonlight on your face. perhaps, both...

yeah, both— it is rather difficult to distinguish between the beauty of your inner self from that of your outer self— the smile simmers down to a subtle twitch of your lips.

something stutters and stumbles inside gojo's chest.

"i know you see me as nothing more than a coward right now, but i believe... it's better to be a coward and alive, than to be a hero and dead— isn't it, senpai?"

[you're pretty bold, however.

far braver than he could ever deem you to be, the boy muses later to himself with a wry smile, an ice bag on the big toe of his right foot— this poor thing swollen and bruised from how mercilessly the heel of your slipper stamped onto it earlier—

okay, fine— the sorcerer concedes to the imaginary angel perched on his shoulder. something between a grumble and a sigh escaping— he shouldn't have asked you out on a date, in return for him to keep your secrets.

it was really inappropriate, he admits. and gojo likes to see himself as a gentleman... yet, yet, yet.

the need to see that placid mask of yours crack— let it be by a glower and not by the smile, he has never seen on you but knows will be just as lovely as you— that need was too overwhelming then as well...

shushing the angel and fist-bumping his guardian devil, gojo tosses the ice bag away. and falls back into his bed—

a very happy, a touch too giddy grin splitting his face into halves:

you really are a peculiar girl, heh!]

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

[alitheakorogane]

Ununusal Hilichurl in SAGAU

This is separate from my "Reader Protection Squad" fics, so in this SAGAU fic, Venti has the personality he had on some Cult/Imposter SAGAU fics we usually read on this site. It's an old fic of mine, made in December 2022. It was supposed to be longer when I first planned it, but I forgot how it ends, so I apologize in advance for the ending.

So enjoy this little fic involving the Unusual Hilichurl, who happens to be the Genshin persona of one of MiHoYo's CEO, Liu Wei!

You were just chilling out on the Wolvendom, looking out for any patrolling Knights of Favonius that could potentially hurt you once they spotted you. You just wanted to relax from being chased once in a while, and Andrius agreed to let you stay at his place and let his wolves patrol for any strangers coming into the place.

As you lie down on the grass and stare at the clear blue skies above, you noticed a certain Hilichurl staring at you with a curious look on its face. It was wearing clothes that are very strange for a Hilichurl with a briefcase lying beside it, and on its mask bears the character "伟." You immediately recognized this certain Hilichurl, as you had encountered it occasionally while you were playing Genshin Impact back at home.

"Ah yes, the Unusual Hilichurl..." you silently muttered as the strange-looking Hilichurl greeted you with a wave of its hand.

"Olah," the Unusual Hilichurl responded as it approached you and sat down beside you, while you sat up immediately. You should have stayed away in case it became hostile, even though you know that it would just attack if you provoked it, but you just sat back and stared at it silently.

Then you noticed the Unusual Hilichurl's hand holding something greenish, and you realized that it was a cabbage, probably giving it to you. You suddenly remembered that cabbages were one of its gifts, as it references a certain character from Genshin's sister game, Honkai Impact 3rd.

Wait a minute...

"I remembered something, your name is Wei, right?" You asked the Hilichurl as you realized something about the Hilichurl in front of you, "I remembered that you must be the Genshin counterpart of Hoyoverse's co-founders... Liu Wei, I think?"

You waved your hands as if you were doing the jazz hands as you spoke in a curious tone, "But if that's the case, you should be the Divine Grace by technicality since Hoyoverse was the one who made Genshin Impact. It makes sense, right?"

Your hand went to your chest as if to emphasize yourself, looking at the Hilichurl who was looking at you curiously, "But why me... or someone who shares the same face as me? That's because I'm a player of this freaking game?"

You closed your eyes as you continued your rant, the frustration stemming from your bad experiences in this version of Teyvat had now on its limit, "There are more than a million Genshin Impact players out there, and some of them dreamed of meeting the characters here... but I was thrown in this world... a world who doesn't even want me to begin with."

You opened your eyes and glared at the grass on your feet, the feelings of spite and anger etched on your face, "They just wanted to slice my head off the first time I show my face out here because I look like someone who I knew was never seen or even mention in the game."

The Unusual Hilichurl, Wei, just said nothing and you sighed, watching the dandelions from a distance, their seeds flying through the air.

"I must be crazy, I was talking to a Hilichurl of all people."

As you stared at the scenery before you, you then noticed how Wei stood up from their sitting position, reached for its briefcase, and opened it, before grabbing something from inside. Your eyes flitted to the object in its hands, and as Wei's hands reached out to give you the object it had scavenged in its bag, your eyes widened in surprise and gently picked up the object.

It was a phone... Your phone to be exact.

You were confused over the matter, why would Wei give you your phone when the last time your phone was left in your world, the world where you really belong?

You carefully opened your phone, wary of any possible traps embedded in it. Since your unfortunate encounter with the viscious people in this cursed world of a video game, you were always wary of everything, your eyes alert and peeled for any danger and suspicious activity.

The screen lit up, but instead of your usual wallpaper of (Character) on them, it was the log-in screen of Genshin Impact, complete with its serene log-in song and the beautiful view of pillars and a walkway with clouds adorning them.

To be honest, you kinda missed the serene log-in music you always listen to whenever you opened the game. Even though the game associated with it now brings traumatizing memories on you.

But instead of a log-in area where you typically log in to your account or a door to enter you into the in-game version of Teyvat, it was a message, similar to what you usually see every time you log in while still on maintenance time or you lost your connection to the internet.

But the message isn't the typical error message, you realized that it was a letter from the developers of Genshin Impact themselves.

"Dear Traveler, we apologize for some inconvenience of any issues you encountered while you're traveling in this beautiful world of Teyvat. Rest assured that your exploration in Teyvat will be safe and fun like you had experienced in-game. As compensation, we will give you an apology gift to guide you in your travels and make your journey worthwhile.

Good luck and may your unwavering guidance be witnessed by the stars and to the abyss!"

-Hoyoverse

If this was a cartoon, you could see your jaw drop to the ground.

How ridiculous!

"Did Hoyoverse just make me one of their beta players for their rumored virtual reality world?"

You remembered the article you had read months back about Hoyoverse wanting to make a virtual reality world by 2030, and Genshin Impact's open world theme is more like a prototype of this project. The knowledge and the message by the developers kinda connected the dots and it suddenly makes sense.

Wei just shrugged, making you stare at the Hilichurl with a deadpan look. Then you grumbled curses to the developers for putting you in a situation like this. And for what? A test subject for their beta test?!

When did you sign up for this?

Then another message appeared, this time it was more informal and more like it had replied to your concerns, making you a little bit scared.

"No, Traveler, this isn't for the virtual reality world that our developers had been working on. There's something wrong with the system and we tried our best to fix the problem caused by it."

You were flabbergasted. You looked around for more suspicious stuff that could make anyone from Hoyoverse monitor you from your world, but only Wei was the suspicious one around the area. You narrowed your eyes on the Hilichurl but the said creature just shrugged and returned to his usual business, curiously looking at you while playing with his cabbages.

When you found nothing, you released a relieved sigh and raised an eyebrow as you looked at the message on the phone. Apparently, Hoyoverse was involved in this isekai scheme, but they encountered a technical problem that involves the codes of the game.

But you wondered how did they send a real person to the game?

As you lost yourself in your own thoughts, the message suddenly disappears, leading you to the fancy door you usually see when you open the game, a gateway to the in-game Teyvat, complete with the "touch to start" message below.

You pressed the button and waited for the loading button to start the game. It was weird since you were currently in Teyvat, and you were playing the game where this place came from. You wondered how this will all be turned out. Will the phone acts like a CCTV where you could spy on your favorite characters while they try to catch you like a rabid person on drugs?

And it really did. You looked at the Unusual Hilichurl, who was still focusing on his cabbages, with a flabbergasted look on your face, but you know that he was just helping you navigate this world that his real-life counterpart had created to compensate for the troubles.

(Venti was spotted sneaking on the cellar of the Dawn Winery while people were currently on a meeting for something regarding your recent escapades. You facepalmed as you saw him through the phone, gleefully stole one bottle and decided to share it with Kaeya who was waiting for him to show up.)

As you started to see what's going on the other side of the field, you were grateful that you were given a chance to fight back and make the first step against them.

[noellefan101]

Not Replaceable

Characters: Alhaitham x GN reader

ft Kaveh and a weighted blanket(bc you can't tell me alhaitham wouldn't sleep with it, and that hes not autistic).

Warnings: not proofread, and definitley ooc but whatever

Note: this is heavily inspired by a fic i saw some months ago, but i cant remember their username and its kinda sad :(

he's been staring at your back for 30 minutes now, you seriously promised it would be dry tomorrow, its the best you can do.

"Haitham.. do you need anything?".

"you already know what i need…".

you looked at the man, and you sweared he looked like a kicked puppy, all because you had to wash his blanket today. you feel sorry for him, but it had to be done.

"yes, i do. but you can't sleep with a," you tried once again to convince him "a big wet piece of cloth" to just try and sleep without it.

"you could also just take multible blankets and stack them, or try to be a normal person like the rest of us" ah, Kaveh walked in, probably to get another cup of coffee, and to annoy Haitham as usual.

"not the same" Alhaitham said almost immediately after Kaveh had spoke, "it doesn't weigh enough, all the ones we have are too light for me to do that" you guess he's right, since it isn't the best to have too many layers of warmth in sumeru's heat.

you and alhaitham dont have that many blankets combined anyway, unless Kaveh woul- "alright! whatever, just dont take all mine like you did last time!" guess he already said no to that option then.

"i didn't take all of yours, just a few, you still had one left" i mean, he is kind of right, as much as you didnt want to agree with that at the moment.

"uggghhh… im going now, solve that yourselves" Kaveh spoke, walking out of the room with a new coffee mug in hand.

"love, are you sure you dont want to just try with the multible blankets?" you wanted to try just one more time, even though you were sure it wasnt going to actually convince him.

"yes" alright, then you dont have any other ideas. so you tried to brainstorm some more, though none would fix the actual problem at hand.

"i could make you some tea? or you could jsut read until you feel tired?" you wanted to help him so bad, but nothing just seemed like it would work. since yours was way too light, and you cant really go out and buy another on eofr him right now.

and his still shouldn't be dry enough to use. "no" he said as you gave out a sigh, you wanted so badly to give up on trying to find a replacement. but you still couldn't let yourself do it, you still wanted to help him actually sleep today.

"are you… sure nothing can work as a replacement, even just for today?" you're sure you looked so defeated at the moment, but it didn't matter now.

"…" silence huh? maybe he's thinking about it, or maybe he gave up as well. you cant really tell, and you're too tired to try understand what's behind those pretty eyes right now.

so you guess you should just-"lay on me" did you hear that right?? "what?" you cant do anything but question him. too focused on figuring what he was trying to do, or if you heard the wrong thing.

"i know you heard me, lay on me" so you weren't just hearing his words incorrectly, "but why would that help?".

"you weigh about enough to work as a weighted blanket" you looked at him surprised, "…excuse me?" you cant help but feel a little annoyed at him. although you knew what he meant know.

"i didn't mean it like that, i swear" he quickly spoke back. coming closer to you, looking worried that he had used the wrong words.

"its okay, im messing with you. i know you wouldn't actually mean it like that" you smiled smugly, letting out a little whimper as he picked you up without warning.

you looked up at him, confused, "i-i," you stuttered out yet couldnt finish the sentence before you felt him pull you in closer to him. "i can walk on my own you know!" it wasnt quite what you had wanted to say, but it would do.

he just looked at you and shrugged then put you gently down on the bed, and then he was laying beside you the moment it had come to you that he put you down.

you both looked right at each other once again, now face to face, in a silence you couldnt quite say was nice but it wasnt unpleasant either. well before he spoke up anyway, "are you going to move or do i have to?".

"huh?" you had already forgot why you were back in your bedroom by now, too focused on his eyes to care at the moment. "okay, i'll lift you up then" oh right, that it why you're here.

"sorry, w-wait atleast give me a warning first!" you wimpered out quickly as he took you up by your torso and put you down onto his chest. "i did give you a warning." you pouted at that.

"not a good enough warning, smartass" you clearly tried to sound stern, as if it mattered at all. but by the way your lips curled up and you just cuddled in closer to him, you clearly didnt mind.

it had been about 10 minutes by now, and you were fast asleep, although alhaitham wasnt quite yet. he was tired, yes, but maybe he had focused too much on you being right there than actually sleeping.

he wasnt complaining, dont get me wrong, but maybe it wasnt the smartest to have you on him when he wasnt suposed to focus on you. you just looked so pretty all curled up on his chest while still trying to cover him up as much as you could, even in your dreams.

he will fall asleep soon, just let him enjoy your sleeping form a little longer.

and yes, he should get a second weighted blanket, but he won't. because he now hopes gets to enjoy a moment like this every time the blanket has to be washed.

thx for reading, this is a very weird whatever but im trying to cook something up i just cant cook rn-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)

Frost Bite

Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.

A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog

I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."

I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.

I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.

It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.

And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.

It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.

And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.

The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.

My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...

I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.

Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.

I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.

Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"

I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."

Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.

"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.

I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.

I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.

The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.

I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.

He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.

"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.

His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.

I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.

I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"

He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.

"Do not waste your energy," I chide.

And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.

Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."

My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."

I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.

"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."

I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."

I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.

I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.

I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.

Daemon.

Daemon.

"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.

I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.

I whine.

His fingers-

"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"

I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.

"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.

He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.

When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.

He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.

It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.

My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.

"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"

Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"

All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.

"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.

He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."

He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."

I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.

I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.

Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.

I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."

I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."

He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."

I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."

Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."

"Hypocrite," I scoff.

He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."

I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."

"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"

"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.

Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."

He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.

"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"

"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.

He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"

I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."

He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"

"Fuck off-"

"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."

I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.

As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.

"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.

I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.

He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."

"Daemon, please stop-"

"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."

"Daemon-"

"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."

He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."

I look up at him as my breathing quickens.

"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.

I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.

"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."

I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.

"Say it," he barks.

"I-"

"Say you want me," he says softer this time.

I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."

I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."

I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.

"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."

I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."

He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.

I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.

His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."

I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."

My breath leaves me when he says this.

"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."

He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"

"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.

The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.

It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.

Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.

I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."

I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.

He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."

I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."

I shriek when I bites me.

Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.

I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.

I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.

"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.

I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.

I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.

"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."

I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.

Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"

His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.

I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.

His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.

I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.

Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."

The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.

He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."

My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.

"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.

"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.

He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"

My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."

I call out his name. He calls out mine.

I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."

Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.

I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.

I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.

I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.

"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."

"Daemon-"

"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"

"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"

My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.

Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.

He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.

My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.

"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."

I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.

I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.

"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.

I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.

I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.

He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.

"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.

He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"

"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.

Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."

I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.

His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.

"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."

I weakly mumble, "fuck off."

His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "

"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.

Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.

"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.

I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."

"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.

"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"

I turn to him in concern and push myself up.

Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"

I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.

"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"

I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.

"That you want me," I quip just as fast.

He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.

"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."

"Well, pardon me for not-"

"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.

I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.

He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"

I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.

When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."

I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."

"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."

I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."

He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"

"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"

"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.

He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.

He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.

"Daemon-"

"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."

[spider-ghoul]

ok so like im also one of the biggest leo valdez fan girls/boys and i would be so happy if someone wrote a leo valdez x aphrodite!reader ? it could be headcanons or a fic, idc <33

also ofc u dont have to if u dont want to !!

idc abt the plot either :p

Yessss

Lovely

Leo Valdez x Aphrodite!reader headcannons

Warnings: slight insecure leo? Nothing i can think of! Lmk if theres somthing i should add

-he met you on his first day of camp (maybe you showed him around and not will solace but it doesn't really matter)

-he Started flirting with you like... immediately.

-(are you kidding?? Ofc he did- look at you)

-and then, once y'all actually got to talking.. he really liked you

-so he talks to piper and immediately shes like

-'yep this is gonna happen.'

-and then Leo's in the Aphrodite cabin 24/7 hanging with Piper (trying to talk to you cough cough)

-your like definitely aware he likes you, its obvious, plus like Aphrodite kid- your pretty in tune with emotions

-y'all could start dating in a few different ways, but i think he would try n be really romantic about it-

-"i mean their mom is the love goddess! Of course I'm going all out-"

-maybe he tries to write something in the sand and take you to the beach or something (he has to do this at least twice before learning about tides)

-and boom! Together!

-leo Valdez is always so heart eyes coded!!!

-staring at you all. thE. TIME.

-if you mention this he'll just be like

-'well i went though all the trouble to make you mine soooo... I get a pass'

-and you'd roll you eyes and he'd be like...super proud of himself

-yk nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter?

-yeah, that's you two.

-but theres a few downsides cuz i cant just let him be happy

-your gorgeous. Even if your not what society deems 'attractive', everyone thinks you look amazing.

-guys and girls hit on you all the time- you can turn them down politely and all that but a few just keep trying

-leos not really jealous, just insecure.

-he's always worried that you'll start to see him like he sees himself... Which is NOT good

-but your always amazing at shutting that down

-"babes, you really think any of them? They're shallow. You're the only one for me, i promise."

-he's cried during that talk a few times

-but yall belong together so hard

-my mans also wants to hold your hand so bad

-like SO BAD

-all the time

-sleepovers in your cabin are mandatory

-plus sneaking out to bunker 9

-lots of pda

-neck kisses tee hee

-Idk how to end these

but ya! That's all i got, though i love this dynamic sm!! Feel free to request more!! Id love to do this w/ different godly parents/promts

[ladymunson]

Mile High 18+

Fic summary: You Spot the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in the business class lounge at the airport and then he happens to be on the same flight as you. Things are about to get very interesting.

A/N: This is a short one shot Drabble, there will be no additional parts. No use of y/n. No minors, shoo!

Warnings: strangers to lovers, SMUT 18+, mutual public masturbation, public nudity, airplane bathroom, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) cream pie.

Word count: 1244

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

Support content creators by hitting that reblog tab.

You arrive at Boston Logan airport an hour earlier than you need to, and spend time in the lounge after checking in. It’s mid evening so they offer you a glass of wine, business class sure has its perks. You take a seat at the bar and sip on your wine as people come in and out of the lounge. While waiting for your flight to be called, something catches your eye. He enters the lounge and stops, standing over by the door, his expensive suit opening up as he stretches revealing his tight and broad shoulders. He’s fucking gorgeous! And possibly the sexiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. His beard full and luscious, his eyes a sparkling blue matching his tie.

He looks around the lounge and stops when he sees you. The top button of your white blouse is open, he catches a glimpse of cleavage, his eyes widen as he continues staring at you.

Your black skirt was short enough to reveal your thighs and he looks at your legs, the black stilettos on your feet... Hunger in his eyes. You both eye fuck each other across the lounge, he keeps his distance and doesn’t approach, at which you quickly glance down at his left hand that is holding a briefcase. He’s not wearing a wedding ring.

The flight is called so you pick up your handbag and head towards the door, brushing past him. Making sure there was a little contact. You can feel the electricity as you touched, had he felt it too? Doesn't matter you think to yourself, because you won't see him again.

You board the plane, the flight attendant pointing you the the right direction. After settling in your seat, you feel someone was standing next to you, you think it might be the flight attendant. But it isn’t... It’s him.

He smiles at you, and you return his smile.

The flight attendants go through the preflight routine which you’ve seen many times before, so you concentrate on the book you’re reading.

As the plane takes off, the rumbling of the engines starts to turn me on. A dampness in you underwear causing you to shift. You haven’t realised, but you’ve been caressing your collarbone and the contours of your breasts (you do that sometimes when you’re thinking about sex). But he’s noticed and been staring at you.

He looks a little uncomfortable; you look around to see if you can figure out why.

Then you see it...

The hard on he had been trying to conceal with his copy of 'The Boston Herald’.

You look him in the eye, and smile. A boldness building within you, so you kick off your shoes and rearrange yourself into a more comfortable position with your legs crossed. So, he can see your black lacy French panties. You pull the gusset of them side to side gently, enjoying the friction against your pussy.

His hand disappears underneath the paper and you hear the sound of a zipper.

He was stroking himself under there, and you couldn't see.

You pull your panties to one side...

For a few seconds you just let him look at your Pussy, wet and pulsing, aching for his touch but having to make do with your own.

You begin to rub your clit, gently at first but soon that wasn't enough. You raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

He lifts up the paper to show you his cock, it’s large and thick and looks like it could give you immense pleasure. His hand works up and down on his shaft, as you work mine on your Pussy. Doing this in such a public setting is so naughty but so exciting, it’s heightening the pleasure you’re feeling.

You’re seconds away from coming; he must've sensed it cos he snatches you hand away and transfers it to his cock...

When your fingers close around his warm skin, you hear him moan.

Then he throws your hand away, zips himself up, and moves out of the chair.

Why?

Disappointment must've shown on your face because he winks and nods towards the lavatory door.

You can’t follow straight away; you don’t even bother to put your shoes on when you get out of your seat and walk down the gangway towards the lavatory.

You knock lightly on the door, the door folds to one side and a strong arm pulls you in...

He’s got his pants down round his ankles, his beautiful dick standing to attention before you.

He pulls you close and kisses you, urgent and probing around in your mouth.

He sits down on the lavatory seat and pulls you towards him; he rolls your panties over your hips, and you step out of them.

You part your legs so they are either side of his lap and lift your skirt so he can see how wet you are....

You lower yourself down onto his cock, letting the head rest against your dripping cunt for a moment. You had meant to hover, teasing him but you can’t. You desperately need him inside you.

You lower yourself down, letting his cock prise open your wetness and penetrate you. Filling you up, giving you what you need.

You lift yourself and begin to pound your Pussy onto his cock, hard and fast.

He bites your hard swollen nipples through your blouse, which sends thrills through you...

One hand on the mirror steadying yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. Your other hand on his shoulder.

You kiss again. His hands on your hips, guiding you up and down, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

He starts rubbing your clit making you moan, you started squeezing your cunt around his cock, making him groan as he starts to shake...

You can feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, and from the look on his face he isn’t far off either.

"The plane will begin its descent in ten minutes, please return to your seats" came over the tannoy. It was now or never, you grind your pussy down hard onto him, his pubic hair tickling your clit and triggering your orgasm..

You come hard; the contractions of your cunt sets off his climax. You come together, his cock filling your pussy with hot white cum. He lets out a long moan, your head buried in his shoulder, muffling your screams of pleasure.

You take a moment to catch your breath before you stand up and he helps clean you up and rearrange your skirt down, gives you a quick kiss and shoves you out of the bathroom into the corridor.

Walking in a straight line after such an intense orgasm is a challenge but you manage to get back to your seat. By the time you check your make-up and straightened your blouse he was back in the seat next to you.

When you disembark the plane, he walks straight past you and gets into a car that’s waiting for him.

'There he goes' you think 'The best fuck of my life.'

You smooth your skirt down and stop, feeling something, so you reach into the pocket of your skirt and pull out a business card, Andrew Barber; Assistant District Attorney. His cell phone number is written on the back, along with the hotel he was staying at and room number.

'I know what I'm doing tonight' you think to yourself smiling.

THE END

Tags: @cevansbaby-dove @patzammit

[c0wgurlz]

Trouble On My Left, Trouble On My Right

Chapter 2: Operation, Find Caroline a Cowboy

gif by @bodybebangin

Kayce Dutton x Reader/OC - Friends to Lovers

He doesn't even have to take half a step to catch back up with me. “Come on Caroline, you know I’m just teasing you.” He pats my back as a peace offering. “Although,” Okay, maybe not. “I have it on good authority that I can please the ladies, so save a horse and all that.” Winking flirtatiously, he belts out a laugh, finally removing his hand from my bare back. And what a blessing that is, because if he had kept touching me while talking about… that, I’d be liable to combust.

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Chapter 1

Sorry it took me so long to update! I'm a teacher and my free time is fairly limited. We're at a point in the school year now though that is much less stressful, so expect fairly regular updates, at least for the next few chapters.

Comments are so appreciated! I'd love to know what ya'll like and what ya'll think I could improve upon.

As always: I do not own Yellowstone (2018) or any of its characters. This work is not monetized.

THIS FIC IS CROSSPOSTED TO AO3. It is not posted to any other site. I am lookingcold on AO3 and that is all. I do not give permission for my work to be posted by others to any other platform.

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We don’t talk for the rest of the walk, but the silence is comfortable, like it always is between us. Kayce and I have never asked too much of each other, have always read each others’ moods as if they were our own, and that apparently hasn’t changed from the five years we’ve spent apart. It’s glaringly obvious to us both that neither is up for idle chit chat. 

And while I’m really not up for small talk, the silence does, unfortunately, give me entirely too much time to overthink. What felt like such a natural decision, what felt like fulfilling my duty this morning, now feels foolhardy, and quite possibly too risky. Now this isn’t to say that I’m doubting my choice. Helping Mr. John, helping Kayce, helping the family and ranch that raised me, that picked up my pieces and glued me back together over and over, is a no brainer. Helping the people and the place I love most in the world feels as natural as breathing. But smoothing over a murder? That’s- No, I’m not doubting my choice, but I’m sure as hell doubting my sanity. When I said the Duttons needed a criminal defense lawyer, not a PR specialist, I wasn’t exaggerating. And if I’m being honest, this job feels more like that of an accessory than a public relations consult.

The front porch of the big house comes into view well before I’m ready. This dinner may be a reunion of sorts, but it’ll undoubtedly be a business meeting as well. Steeling my nerves for such talks doesn’t come quite as naturally to me as it once did. I feel like a knight with rusty armor. Weak at critical points, weak where it matters. More aptly, I feel like a little girl again, staring into the headlights of a train with no way to move and no way to stop it. I’m no coward, please don’t think that of me, but you know that feeling of impending doom? The one that makes your spine tingle and your stomach drop to your knees? Dread is probably the best word. That’s all I can feel as I stand at the bottom step of the Dutton’s porch. 

I must hesitate for too long, or stare off into space, or look absolutely fucking terrified, because in a flash Kayce is back down the two steps he’d already taken and by my side. He doesn’t say anything, you’d think we’d taken a vow of silence, but just looks at me imploringly, resembling a curious puppy so much I almost crack a smile. And then Kacye, sweet Kayce, wraps his calloused hand around mine and tucks it against his chest, over his heart, before tipping his head, ushering me up the stairs. Once I’m half way up I get a fond, “Atta girl,” and what woman doesn’t love being praised like an obedient mare. I snort in response and kick out my foot to trip him, but only a little bit, on the last stair. Can’t have hime getting too full of himself.

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Dinner is nice, but rather awkward if I’m totally honest, mainly due to the fact that Beth and Jamie are in attendance. Let’s just say Gator clears the table well before dinner should truly be over. To my surprise, we don’t talk business, but rather I’m questioned, interrogated really, over what I’ve been up to the past five years and why haven’t I called and would it really kill me to send a text every few months. Beth is the one who leads this inquiry. Jamie and I were never particularly close, so he remains silent for the most part, and he leaves in a huff shortly after Beth throws a fork like it’s a trident directly at his forehead. Can’t say I blame him, even I can only handle so much of Beth when she’s at her worst.

My interrogation is blissfully, or so I thought, cut short by Mr. John when he asks, “So, ya’ll have any plans tonight?” He folds his napkin meticulously, trying to look nonchalant but missing the mark by a shameful amount. If I thought that feeling of dread had left me, I was wrong.

I narrow my eyes and prepare to defend myself against an interrogation of a different kind. Before I can grit out a suspicious, “No, why,” however, Beth pipes up. “Actually Daddy, since you asked,” at this she turns to me, “Caroline, how do you feel about heading into town and getting gloriously drunk and then gloriously fucked? You’ve been gone far too long, so you’ve got to be re-initiated, re-tainted if you will.” She looks me up and down, assessing. “You’re far too shiny, like a little cherub.”

Jesus Christ, I think she’s suggesting I fuck a townie. And Mary and Joseph I haven’t even so much as kissed someone since my divorce - ok, well maybe a peck or two here or there, but that’s besides the point. Here I was, so worried about talking business, about skirting around the subject of murder, only to be blindsided by an age old Dutton scheme. Operation: Find Caroline a Cowboy. Well if Beth thinks I’m about to get biblical with some rando she is absolutely, positively looney tunes. Now, how to communicate all of that in a tactful way? Taking a shallow breath, I part my lips and prepare to spout some placating, buzzword bullshit. Something along the lines of, “Well, as fun as that sounds, I’m actually really tired. Maybe later this weekend?” or “How about we just kick back in the bunkhouse tonight, save the salaciousess for this Saturday?” Before I can even utter a word though, Kayce butts in on my behalf.

“Do you maybe think you could save the corruption for later, Beth? I’ve already promised the boys that I’ll bring Caroline around for cards tonight.” While his voice is calm, casual even, Kayce gives himself away the moment he begins to bounce his leg, the tap tap tap of the heel of his boot loud in the otherwise quiet room. He’s uncomfortable, maybe even irritated, which aren’t we all at least a little bit when speaking to Beth, but there’s something else. A boyishness to his demeanor that I haven’t seen since high school. There’s also the fact that we had decidedly made zero plans to visit the bunkhouse tonight. So. Interesting.

I’m certainly not the only one to notice his odd shift in behavior, as Mr. John’s lips curl into a smirk and Beth’s face arranges inself into a pleased, self-satisfied expression. She frequently wears the look of someone who knows enough to destroy literally any given person’s life, but this look is more playful, one of a cat that’s pinned a mouse by its tail. Ignoring Kayce, she turns her attention back to me. “Caroline, sweetheart, don’t even think about screwing any of those cowboys. I know old habits die hard, but trust me when I say not a single one of them is worth a ride.” Now, to be clear, Beth knows, I know, Mr. John knows, and even Kayce knows that Beth has only ever screwed one of said cowboys out in that bunkhouse, still, her dig elicits the desired reaction from Kayce. And furthermore, she makes it clear that she’s not just trying to set me up with any old cowboy. I’m on to her. Operation: Find Caroline a Kayce.

With a cringe of disgust and a flushed face, he exclaims, “Fuck’s sake Beth, I’m not taking her out there to pimp her out.” He’s stopped smoothing the tablecloth, but now he’s exasperatedly running his hand through his still damp hair. Shit, Kayce. You think he’d have learned by now how to not play into Beth’s hand. Some people just have to learn the hard way I suppose. 

Beth’s eyebrows lift and the corner of her mouth quirks. “Well you’re not a very good bestfriend then, are you?”

“Fuck you.” Kayce mutters, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms petulantlly.

“Maybe you should be saying that to her.” Beth points at me with her napkin, dropping it onto her plate as she rises from the table. “This has been fun. Possibly the best family dinner we’ve had all year.” Planting a kiss on Mr. John’s cheek she says, “Love you Daddy, have a drink with me later, will you? I think we should talk.” Then, rounding the table to me, she strokes my hair, almost motherly, “Caroline, sweetheart, clear your schedule Saturday. Me and you are going to paint the town red.” Finally, reaching Kayce, she sighs, “Goodnight, dummy. Let me know if you’d like help finding your balls.” And just like a tornado, she’s there wreaking havoc one moment, and gone the next.

The dining room is uncomfortably silent for a beat after she exits, until Mr. John blessedly breaks the awkwardness yet again. “Beth’s antics aside, I don’t think ya’ll should be going out anywhere tonight. We’ve got several important meetings lined up tomorrow morning and I need both of you sharp. Especially you Kayce, tomorrow will require you to tell a very particular version of events and I can’t risk you fucking that up. Alright, Son?”

Looking slightly cowed, Kayce nods his head in agreement. “Alright.”

Having determined this hell of a dinner has gone on long enough, I begin to make moves to excuse Kayce and myself. “Dinner was delicious Mr. John, thank you for having me. And thank you for such fine company.” I may be lying out of my ass, but my momma didn’t raise me to be rude.

Mr. John exhales a dry laugh and rises from the table. It’s moments like this where his and Beth’s resemblance is striking. “No need to thank me, honey. You’re family, you’re welcome at my table anytime.” Pushing in his chair he surveys Kayce and I with calculating eyes. “Why don’t you two head on home, you both look like you’ve been put through the wringer.”

Gee Mr. John, I wonder the hell why?

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Our walk back isn’t nearly as silent as our walk to the house. To say Kayce is pissed would be putting it lightly. “What in the actual fuck was all that? I mean, Beth was no surprise, but what shit is Dad trying to pull?”

“Kayce, your daddy barely said a word.” I’m more focused on the words left unsaid.

“He didn’t have to say anything Carrie, he sat there like a smug bastard and let Beth say it all for him.” Kayce may as well be pitching a fit the way he kicks at the ground, arms hugged tight to his chest like a wronged toddler. Honestly, the image is kind of amusing, so much so that I have to stifle a laugh. I must not do a good enough job, because I can feel the glare that Kayce shoots through the side of my head. “What?”

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, I’m quick to hide my growing grin. “Well first off, I’m gonna overlook the fact you pulled out my forbidden nickname. But second, do you remember that Christmas when we were thirteen? How Beth hung mistletoe from literally every single doorway, and how your daddy actually enforced the kissing rule?” I raise my eyebrows high, daring him to conveniently “forget” an awkward moment from our childhood as he often pretends to do.

The tips of his ears turn pink, but he sighs his agreement. “Yeah I remember, we must’ve kissed two dozen times. At the time I thought dying would’ve been a kinder fate.”

Asshole. I punch him in the arm, hard. “Wow. Thanks a lot. The sentiment is shared.” Rolling my eyes and checking for invisible dirt beneath my nails, I continue. “Anyways, what they’re doing now, Beth and your daddy, is just an enormous escalation of what they did then. I don’t think Mr. John will rest in his grave until I give him a grandbaby - with you.” I look at Kayce pointedly. It’s no secret that Mr. John, and Beth by extension, have been holding out hope that me and Kayce would fall madly in love and have lots of babies. When Kayce married Monica the teasing and hinting stopped, after all Mr. John would never disrespect their marriage in such a way, and when I married Judd it was almost like a fence went up between us, between myself and the Duttons that is, but now that both of our spouses are out of the picture? I’m certainly not surprised the trouble has started back up.

I expect Kayce to splutter and turn a darker shade of red. Despite his gruff exterior he’s always been reserved and easy to embarrass. He surprises me though when he mutters, “Maybe we should just give him what he wants then. Get him and Beth off our backs.”

I shock myself with the cackle that bursts its way out of my body. It bubbles out partly because of the utter glee I get from Kayce having a sense of humor for once and partly from the insanity of such a suggestion. “So you’re telling me, that your solution to getting your daddy and Beth to leave us alone, is to have a baby together? Yeah, because they definitely would have no interest in our love lives after a stunt like that.” I bump his hip with mine. “I can just hear Beth now, ‘I’m thinking a Fall wedding, you look horrible in bright colors and nobody wants to wear a suit in eighty-eight degree weather.’ We’d never hear the end of it.”

Kayce shrugs, shooting me a wry grin. “Hey, if we marry each other at least we’ll know what we’re getting into. No surprises.”

“Yeah, and no sex,” slips past my lips before I can swallow it down. What a stupid fucking thing to say. Good job Caroline, talk about fucking, or not fucking, your best friend some more why don’t you. Now I’m the one who’s blushing. Pink from the roots of my hair to my chest. And what a fatal mistake I’ve made by opening my fat mouth. My whole life I’ve had to be one step ahead of Kayce, embarrassing him before he can embarrass me worse, yet here I am giving him a golden opportunity.

His grin only widens. “I hate to break it to you Carrie, but to make a baby people have to have sex.” He slings an arm around my shoulders, adding insult to injury. “You know when a man loves a woman…”

I elbow him in the ribs before he can continue. He laughs at my embarrassment just as much as he groans from the pain. “Oh shut up.” Now I cross my arms, increasing my stride so that his arm falls from my shoulders.

He doesn’t even have to take half a step to catch back up with me. “Come on Caroline, you know I’m just teasing you.” He pats my back as a peace offering. “Although,” Okay, maybe not. “I have it on good authority that I can please the ladies, so save a horse and all that.” Winking flirtatiously, he belts out a laugh, finally removing his hand from my bare back. And what a blessing that is, because if he had kept touching me while talking about… that, I’d be liable to combust. If Kayce had always been shy and reserved in his day to day life, where I had been bright and obnoxious in mine, the topic of sex is where we switched places. I think calling myself a prude may be a tad harsh, but I certainly have never been one to broadcast my sexual business. Kayce on the other hand has never shied away from flirting, or kissing, or having sex in nearly every one of Mr. John’s pastures - you don’t get someone pregnant at nineteen by keeping it in your pants after all. 

Playing the game I had with Kayce in the bathroom earlier today had felt safe, probably because I was the one in control, but this battle of wills feels altogether different, like someone is poking at an insecurity, at a bruise I didn’t even know I had. It’s confusing at best and humiliating at worst. Throwing his words back at him, I huff, “Now Kayce Dutton, you know this conversation is entirely improper, so I suggest you drop it. And also,” I whirl around on the step I’ve just taken. Thank God we’ve reached the foreman’s house because I don’t know how much longer I can participate in this back and forth before I’m forced to will myself out of existence. “Who says I’d even want to have a baby with you? Good authority or not. I know ya’ll’ve gotten new ranch hands since I’ve last been here, all of whom I haven’t gotten to size up yet. You never know, maybe one of them is babydaddy material.” I poke him firmly in the chest. “Don’t assume I haven’t got options.” Before Kayce can respond I storm up the remaining steps and into the house, kicking my boots off perhaps a bit too aggressively before striding into the kitchen. What I plan to do in the kitchen, I don’t know, but I still don’t know which room I’m staying in and the living room feels too cozy to stew in, so the kitchen it is.

Kayce saddles in much more calmly, but his fierce expression gives his true feelings away. “Are you serious?” He grunts, and if I wasn’t so embarrassed, mad, confused, hurt - for some reason that alludes me, I might have found the rocky timbre of his voice sexy. 

“Serious about what?” I avoid his gaze petulantly, pouring myself a glass of water for a lack of anything better to do.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He groans, tipping his head back and rubbing at his eyes. “Are you really picking a fight over whether or not we should get imaginary married, have imaginary sex, and have an imaginary baby? You do hear how crazy that sounds?”

“So now I’m crazy?” My voice is cool, and serious, even though at this point I realize I’ve lost the argument. Even though I’ve realized there never should’ve been an argument in the first place.

Any fight Kayce had left in him drains away. I see the moment that it leaves his body, his eyes softening and his shoulders relaxing. “Caroline, honey, what’d I do?”

Almost as if there’s an invisible string connecting us, my body relaxes too. I blow out a breath, dump my water down the drain, and come to stand in front of him. No island between us. “You didn’t really do anything, just poked at a sore spot, that’s all.”

Sensing that this may be a conversation best saved for later, Kayce graciously changes the subject. Scratching at the back of his neck with one hand and gesturing towards the bathroom with the other he murmurs, “Well uh, if you still wanna have that spa night we should probably get going, we’ve got a early morning tomorrow and if I’m gonna let you take my spa virginity we’ve gotta do this thing right.” That earns him a hard exhale, the ghost of what could’ve been a laugh. But he must know not to expect much else, that I’m still nursing my bruised ego, because he carries on. “So why don’t I go get that bubble bath started and you can sort through your uh lotions and potions, decide on how best to pretty me up. And then maybe we could talk, about anything you want.” He begins to walk backwards, making his way towards the bathroom. It’s odd to hear the soft pad of his socked feet on the hardwood and not the click of his boots, but also kind of nice, endearing.

“Okay,” I breath, “Yeah, that’d be - that’d be nice.” I move to walk past him, into the hall where I’d left my bags. “I think you’ve got a bit of a sunburn so I’ll see if I’ve got an aloe mask for you. If you plan on putting yourself back on the market you’d better start taking care of your looks.”

I’m very purposefully facing away from him, so I don’t see the melancholy on his face so much as I hear it in his voice. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s likely to happen. My days of chasing tail are definitely over.” I don’t reply, not too keen on opening that can of worms further, and so an uncomfortable silence settles over us. It’s only broken when Kayce sighs, “Well, I’ll uh, I’ll be in the bathroom whenever you’re ready.”

Still looking down, I pause the mindless shuffling I’d been doing through my bags, “Alright, just give me a few minutes.” Having found the masks I was looking for well before now, I finally rise from out of my crouch, left knee popping in protest. “Like you said, you deserve a proper first spa night,” I turn my body to reveal my profile, pretending to check the label of the plastic tub in my hands, “I’ve gotta make sure I pull out all the stops. You know I don’t half ass anything.” Feeling generous, I finally offer him a small smile, turning to fully face him.

The relief in his eyes catches me off guard. “Don’t I know it.”

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I don’t know what I expected when Kayce said he’d go run a bubble bath. Too absorbed in my own thoughts, I didn’t consider that such an activity is typically done alone, certainly not with a friend, and even more certainly not with a totally platonic, albeit sexy, boy bestfriend. When I finally make my way into the bathroom however, I’m greeted by the sight of Kayce settled into the comically large clawfoot tub, chin tucked to his chest so that bubbles cling to his beard, eyes unfocused and contemplative. “Didn’t realize I invited Santa Claus.” I joke, at a loss for anything else to say. Too scared to say the wrong thing or ask the wrong question.

At the sound of my voice his head jerks up, the sudden movement sloshing water just shy of the lip of the tub. “Santa Claus?” He furrows his eyebrows. He really does look like a puppy.

“You’ve got bubbles,” I gesture to my chin, miming a full beard.

He chuckles, “Oh, yeah, I guess I just got bored and,” he shrugs, “I’ve gotten used to playing with Tate in the bath. You’re lucky I didn’t break out the bubble mohawk.”

“The bubble mohawk?” I giggle, “I don’t know, I think I’d like to see that actually. Just make sure I’ve got a camera on me when you do break it out, yeah?” Lining my “lotions and potions” up on the counter, I look away, still trying to figure out what exactly is going on here, or what Kayce expects me to do, to say.

He must sense my hesitancy because he volunteers, “I hope I got the water hot enough. I know how you women like to scorch your skin off, but I’m afraid I’m just a bit too delicate.” He’s pushed himself into a full sitting position now. The water pools just under his chest and it takes everything in me to meet his eyes.

“So we are taking a bath together then?” I huff. “Because that’s not weird at all.” Still, I move to pull my blouse up and over my head, clipping my hair up so that it no longer hangs down my back. “And if you’re not actively in pain, then no, you don’t have the water hot enough. But that’s alright, I’ll manage.”

Ignoring my comment about the water, his eyebrows furrow once again in confusion. “Why’s it weird? You’re the one that suggested it.”

“No. I didn’t.” I shoot some side eye at him, because who in their right mind would suggest such a thing. Hopping around to remove my socks before balling them up and tossing them into the hall so that they don’t get wet, I continue, “And it’s weird because usually when grown adults take a bath together it’s only because something else is gonna follow.”

Rolling his eyes, he insists, “Yes. You did. You said you normally take a bubble bath for spa nights, so here we are, taking a bubble bath. And it’s not weird. I’m wearing my underwear, and I assumed you’d wear yours too. It’s no different than going swimming together.” He sounds way too exasperated for a conversation that is this stupid.

Remember how I said Kayce and I have never had trouble reading each other? Yeah I take that back. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I sigh, “That was not a suggestion. That was a statement. But thank you for the clarification. Now before I literally die of embarrassment, would you like the lavender hair mask,” I forcefully lift one colorful jar into the air, and then another, “or the apple?”

Looking as fed up as I feel, Kayce responds gruffly, “The lavender.”

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Tag List: @cheneyq @targaryenpower @starset21 @darlingmunson30 @ilovemrytleturtle @screechingtriumphtiger @chlo-feigh @twoheartedfool @softi92 @hannahufflepuff @its-moonblr

[dceasesd]

Do you pirate comics? And if you do please gimme your piracy site mine isn't working😞

And could you give me asshole Bruce and Jason fic recs but specifically "I'm a selfish controlling man child and I love my family and will go to hell and back for them and will do anything to keep them safe" Bruce not "I'm an unfeeling man child who only cares for his narrow views of justice"Bruce

If you don't have any fics like this specifically I would gladly take any Bruce and Jason fics that doesn't bash either of the characters or their idles

i gotcha man i gotcha

i personally pirate all my comics on readcomiconline.li, which i find by typing the title of the comic and issue im looking for followed by ‘read’. usually it’s the first option!! it might depend on what country you’re in, though— i’m in the u.s. and it works for me but i’ve heard of people from other places having trouble with it :P

(also, be warned, readcomiconline.li has so. many. pop-ups. use at your own risk)

and oh my god i have so many thank u so much for asking i love giving recs so much (under the cut!!!!)

alrighty bruce and jay fics pls enjoy!!!

Clearly Calm and Keeping Terrorized by Batbirdies

this is one of my favorite fics of all time it’s so good!! it’s literally exactly what you’re looking for. i’d recommend reading the entire series for full affect, but a very basic summary of the plot is bruce goes to therapy and tries to unruin his familial relationships :-) this fic focuses on his attempts w jason. so great!

This Place we Built with Grace and Guilt by Cerusee

yeeowch this one hurts!! another one of my favorite authors, definitely also check out the rest of cerusee’s works, they’re great!! if i had to describe this fic in one word it would be GUILT

The Penny Drops, The Penny Dreads by Batbirdies

omg second batbirdies fic on this list they just get bruce and jay like no one else what can i say!!! this is the only wip on this list but it is very good and i can’t wait for more!! jason and bruce trying to figure out how to have a relationship w their contrasting class backgrounds

The Distance Between Us by AutumnHobbit

this is the one i instantly thought of when i saw ur ask— autumnhobbit is so good! bruce is traumatized and trying his best and that’s what matters

the city carries ruin in its hearts by nex_et_nox

outsider pov of bruce and jason’s relationship!! an interesting perspective, jim gordon is a surprisingly fun character to read!!

borderline by TheResurrectionist

this isn’t specifically jason and bruce and more bruce and everyone in the family, but there is some good jason&bruce dynamic. control freak bruce tries to stop being a control freak

Come Alive by captainozone

this is a young justice fic so if you haven’t seen the show you might be a tiny bit confused, but it’s essentially just a ‘jason comes home’ fic!! one of my all time favorites!

THIS ISN’T PUNISHMENT (I LOVE YOU.) by orphenusaki

orphenusaki i love you all your fics are amazing pls never stop writing!! this author is so great so id recommend checking out their other stuff as well, but this one features a long-needed convo between bruce and jason prompted by truth serum.

hope you like these!!!! thanks again for the ask <333 happy reading!!!!

[coffeeghoulie]

you know that it takes two

or a swissdew fic I wrote after haphazardly tailoring some ghost pants bc I am incredibly short and I ate shit when I tried them on.

Contains some light feminization and a semi-public handjob. This got a lot dirtier than I intended lol

The rising sun filters in past the blinds, casting long shadows and catching the dust motes in the air. The tv in the common room is on, playing some baking show Swiss isn't quite awake enough to process, volume too low for him to really make out without subtitles. He's sprawled on his back on the couch, one foot hooked over the back, eyes half open.

He's awake earlier than normal and he's not sure why. Not that it matters. His body must've just decided it was time to be awake, so he had made his way out here, waiting for any of his packmates to wake up and join him.

Swiss lays there for a long moment before the sound of padding feet makes his gaze snap to the doorway. Dew steps into the common room, stretching with an audible crack that makes Swiss groan in sympathy.

He's a vision, even bedraggled, and Swiss offers him a lazy smile and waves the hand that had been idly scratching at his stomach. Dew hums in acknowledgment, quietly making his way over to the couch.

As he gets closer, Swiss gets a better view of what the fire ghoul's wearing: a shirt that's obviously Aether's by the way it comes down to mid thigh, sliding off his shoulder and exposing a sharp collar bone. More interesting are the lounge pants, cuffs rolled up three times, and Swiss could bet that the drawstrings are triple knotted so they don't slip down Dew's narrow hips. There's a pattern, and Swiss cocks his head as he takes in the Cardinal's face, the ghoul masks, the band's logo and Grucifixes.

"Didn't think you were a merch of your own band kind of guy, spitfire" he chuckles, stretching and baring his fangs as he yawns.

"Fine, I stole them a few weeks back, need to hem them. Might talk Rain into doing it," Dew says, hissing as his foot catches on one of the pant legs and he stumbles. Swiss reaches out on impulse, but the fire ghoul rights himself with a grumble. "Shut up, 'm fine. they're comfortable."

"You do look comfortable," Swiss concedes. “C'mere,” he says, patting his chest in invitation. Dew accepts almost eagerly, laying down in the vee of Swiss's legs.

Dew rests the back of his head on Swiss's chest, and Swiss sputters teasingly as he overemphasizes spitting out Dew's hair, falling out of its bun.

"Knock it off," Dew slurs as he gets comfortable, a rusty purr rattling his slight frame. If he's unusually snuggly, neither of them mention it.

Swiss noses at Dew's hair, wrapping an arm around his waist, getting a good feel of the pants, the sharp hipbones underneath. "I get it," he whispers, half paying attention to the tv. "Those feel soft. Think they might fit me?"

He doesn't need to see Dew's face to know he's rolling his eyes. "Mine," he says in lieu of an answer. “You can get your own.”

He hums, idly playing with the waistband, the drawstrings (he was right, they are triple knotted). He means nothing of it, content with a lapful of fire ghoul, but then his hand trails just a little bit lower and he finds it.

A small, plastic button right over the front of the pants, where the fly in a pair of boxers would be. Swiss's fingers fiddle with the button, and the next thing he knows, there's claws pressing at the back of his hand. Not piercing skin yet, just warning.

"Swiss, what're-" Dew stammers, stiff as a board as he turns to look up at him.

He blinks, glancing down at the smaller ghoul as he realizes what he's doing. "Shit, Dew-" he goes to apologize, but there's an undeniable throb underneath his knuckles, a damp spot growing in the soft fabric of his pants. A shit eating grin splits his face and he noses again at Dew's hair. It smells of Mountain's shampoo, bergamot and tea tree. It suits him. "Say the word and I'll stop. Promise."

They lay there frozen, eyes locked as the silence says more than either of them could. Dew lets go of his hand and Swiss smiles, kissing him.

Swiss plays with the button until it slips out of the buttonhole, and he slides his hand into the fly. They both groan at the touch of skin on skin, Dew having forgone underwear. He's so warm between his thighs, especially the line of his cock, already desperately hard and leaking.

He presses the heel of his hand against it and Dew jerks in his lap, cock blurting precum. He's seen Dew worked up enough times to know what it looks like, the tip ruddy and shiny, dripping into the coarse curls at the base.

“Easy, spitfire,” Swiss whispers in his ear, nipping gently at the point of it. Dew makes a hurt little noise, head tipping back against his chest. His own dick throbs, filling out and pressing against the small of Dew's back.

He doesn't wrap his fingers around Dew's cock, just gently pets up and down the shaft, slicking it with his own pre. Every so often he brushes a calloused fingertip down the seam of his balls and Dew hisses, turns his face to hide in Swiss's chest. Swiss can feel his pulse already, little cock throbbing in time against his palm. A wave of scent, woodsmoke and spice, hits him like a bus.

“So worked up, sweetheart, aren't you?” Swiss coos, his other hand coming up to grab at Dew's jaw. He tilts the fire ghoul's face up, makes him make eye contact. Dew's eyes, normally like shiny copper pennies, are engulfed by blown pupils.

“Swiss-” Dew chokes out, but then Swiss is kissing him, all filthy and far too hungry for this early in the morning. Dew's pliant, sleep still clinging to him, and he yields immediately, letting Swiss lick into his mouth like there's something sweet at his center. And there is, isn't there? Not awake enough to put up the front, stripped bare to the softest version of him?

Dew moans frantically into the kiss, and Swiss pulls back, golden gaze hardening, lips spit-slick. “Quiet, spitfire,” he whispers, squeezing his stiff little cock. “You don't want the rest of the pack finding you like this, do you? So damn easy, with my hand in your pants?”

Dew groans, a little quieter. “Lucifer, fucking- Swiss,” he shudders in his lap as the multi-ghoul finally wraps his fingers around him properly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He coos, squeezing Dew's jaw a little, dimpling his cheeks as he fishes him out of the pants, not bothering with pushing them down, just pulling him through the fly. Just as he thought, the head is cherry red and shiny, the same color that his cheeks have turned, the blush spilling down past the collar of Aether's shirt.

“Fucking- shit- make me cum,” he sputters.

“Is that how we ask, pretty girl?” Swiss growls low in his throat, but he starts jerking him off anyways. The slick head of his dick peeks out from his fist, but it covers the rest of him.

Dew groans, hips bucking up into Swiss's fist, drooling precum over his knuckles. He fights against the hand on his jaw, trying to hide, but Swiss won't let him. He stills his hand, and Dew makes a noise like he's been punched in the gut.

”Ask nicely, sweetheart," he says, their foreheads pressed together, unable to look anywhere but at each other.

Dew's breathing is uneven, chest heaving. Except for his panting, there's silence for a long moment.

“Please make me cum, Swiss,” Dew almost whimpers.

Swiss grins, a blinding flash of fangs as he jerks Dew off. His grip tightens ever so slightly and the fire ghoul keens, tail wrapped tight around Swiss's thigh as he fights to lay still.

Every jerk of Dew's hips ruts him against Swiss's cock, painfully hard in his sweats, but he ignores it for the squirming mess in his lap. He rucks up Aether's shirt, exposing his nearly concave belly, his nipple rings glinting in the early sunlight. He was right. The blush goes down past his nipples, makes the silver jewelry really stand out.

“Such a good girl for me, Dewey,” Swiss says, punctuating it with a kiss to his cheek, oddly tender compared to the way he jerks him. “Lettin' me touch you like this out in the open, where anybody could see you this needy. They'd want you like this, spitfire, such a pretty little mess for me. You'd let them watch, wouldn't you?”

Dew's breath hitches, writhing in Swiss's lap as his free hand snakes up to play with the silver rings threaded through his nipples. His spindly fingers catch around Swiss's wrist, not trying to stop him, just desperate for something to hang on to. His other claws at the couch cushion, puncturing the fabric with his needle sharp claws.

“Will you say it for me, spitfire?” Swiss asks, speeding up the hand on Dew's cock.

Dew swallows hard, making aborted little thrusts up into Swiss's hand.

“Say what?” Dew asks through grit teeth, eyes half lidded as Swiss moves his hand down to roll his balls in his hand.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Swiss says, and Dew just barely bites back a cry as he squeezes ever so slightly. “You know what I want you to say. Say it and I promise I'll make you cum so hard, make you make a mess of yourself.”

Dew makes another hurt noise, mumbling something under his breath.

“Ah-ah, baby, I can't understand you, use your words,” Swiss says. He knows it's cruel, but Dew's dick jerks in his hand and he can't be damned to care. “What are you, spitfire?” he prompts, giving his dick a little squeeze in encouragement.

Dew cries out, too far gone to even try and muffle himself. “'M your girl, please just fucking make me cum, Swiss, please!”

His voice hitches deliciously, and Swiss smiles, unable to deny him anything.

“So good for me, sweetheart,” Swiss coos, starting to jerk him off, picking up the pace until Dew's writhing frantically in his lap again. “So fucking good, Dewdrop, such a good girl for me, that's it.”

He feels Dew's cock stiffen impossibly harder in his hand, feels his balls draw up against his knuckles. “C'mon, baby, cum for me, make a pretty mess for me.”

Dew wails, dick throbbing in time with his pulse as he spills, shooting over Swiss's knuckles as cum splatters across his belly, all the way up to his pierced nipples. Swiss doesn't ease up, cooing in his ear the entire time. “There it is, that's it, doing so good for me, spitfire, give it to me.”

He peppers little kisses over the side of Dew's face as the fire ghoul writhes, the stimulation pushing into too much. He doesn't try to stop it, lets Swiss keep jerking his spent little cock, fangs sinking deep into his lower lip.

His entire body goes slack when Swiss eventually lets him go. ”Fuck, Swiss,“ Dew laughs incredulously, narrow chest heaving as he comes down.

Swiss can't help but return his grin. ”Yeah? Good?“

Dew smacks him with no real heat. “No fucking shit, Swiss.”

Swiss kisses his temple, reaching around to wipe Dew's cum up with his fingers, sucking them into his mouth with an obscene groan. Dew's cock kicks weakly.

“You want me to-?”

“Nah, I think I'm good,” Swiss says, pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop. “More than satisfied with this, spitfire.”

Dew's blush hasn't receded yet, but he settles down against Swiss's chest, yanking his shirt down and getting comfortable again.

Swiss laughs, pressing one more kiss to Dew's temple. He reaches down, tenderly taking Dew's cock in hand, tucking it away. He grins as he does up the little button.

[evelhak]

I’m curious about a few: Propinquity, Anem and Bitchberg (a great name, lol)

Well, you've already read about Bitchberg by now from the previous ask. :D

Lol, I actually winced a little when I saw you asked about "Propinquity" since it's the current working title of my Akashi centric fic, and I know you don't find him that interesting. It's still just a bunch of "notes" (=bits of monologue and dialogue that come to me and I have to write down so I won't forget). I haven't actively started this fic yet, since I can't really write multiple projects at the same time. I will probably have to finish another shorter fic after The Luminous Things, before I get to this one.

I know the opening lines, though:

Winning is like breathing. Sometimes I wake up, gasping for air, but my lungs seem to have fallen into a partial state of paralysis.

Or something fairly close to that. The idea has been in my head for a long time, because I really enjoy digging up ignored dimensions that kind of naturally follow from whatever is going on in canon.

There is of course one thing in this fic that could interest you: The main love interest is an OC. :) You know some things about Azumi already. Here's a snippet that will probably serve as her introduction in the fic:

I absolutely pretended to be the empress of this micro-utopia, growing up. Not because it was mine to conquer, or control. Because it was mine to know. To pick apart. Explore, taste, and merge with. A little pocket of wonder in this huge city, a bubble with its own rules. That's what I came to realise pretty soon, anyway. About the world. How different, how illogical and ultimately unsatisfying it was, compared to my shrine, my home, my own ecosystem, my island of undisturbed ground. It frustrates me that the rest of the world doesn't know how to do it. Live and let live. Give and take. Circle of life. A system that works. Because I was born into it. An heir to it. Happiness.

Micro-utopias are a huge element in my whole fic series as it progresses, and there are several kinds of them, Azumi's home life being its own example. Utopia is generally something I'm really interested to write about, especially because a lot of people claim you can't write interesting utopia without making it dystopia in the end, and I very much disagree with that, as people are always imperfect, so you don't need to add any intentionally awful circumstances for a story to have conflict, if you're writing believable people. For me, the key to what makes the most out of utopia is to centre it around whose utopia it is and why. This got slightly off topic, these are just themes I really like exploring and since my fics are my playground, I definitely use them for exploration of things I might want to write later in a more polished form in my original fiction.

The working title "Propinquity" came while I was writing a chapter in The Luminous Things where Kagami ends up lost in Kyoto (it's complicated) and spends the night in Azumi's place, where he has many enlightening conversations with Akashi. (Azumi and Akashi are already together in my main fic timeline, their own fic will cover how they got together, among other things.)

Here's a snippet from the chapter also titled "Propinquity", which I haven't yet posted anywhere, so things might still change a little, but for now, Akashi muses something like this in it:

"[Propinquity] is the central theme of this shrine. Things develop, and change, and prosper in propinquity. It rings true, doesn’t it? Right things, wrong things… so it really matters what you surround yourself with. It’s not enough to know and think. You have to see, and taste, and touch… A plant wouldn’t grow from the understanding that it needs water, if it never got it. It would still die from poison, no matter how informed it was. Azumi knew all of this, so bone deep. That’s why she was disappointed with the world. That’s why she retreated back to her paradise. I think that’s what caught my attention at first. How she had a physical place to go to when she needed to get away."

I probably would not have developed any need to write a story about Akashi's love life on my own. (Well, it's not all there is to it, but it is a how-they-get-together type of story). It was the influence of my ex, who's a big Akashi fan, and as I have probably said before, Azumi was originally her OC that we worked on together a lot. Eventually I grew attached to Akashi and Azumi together, and now I have my own version of the story.

I don't think I actually read any Akashi x OC fics myself, but my ex read them and complained about them, usually, and I picked up on two pretty common patterns, which I didn't want to do: I didn't want the OC to be 1) poor, or 2) have a similar family dynamic and childhood trauma as Akashi. This is because I wasn't interested in dealing with the power imbalance that tends to come with very different socioeconomic standing, and I also didn't want to write a relationship where people get stuck in validating each other's trauma, and it takes them a long time to grow beyond that phase because their relationship is centred around how similar their experiences are. I wanted to hit that sweet spot which I like the most, a relationship that centres around growth, having enough common ground, and being inspired by things about the other that you've never experienced before, or even believed really exists in the world. The kind of relationship that makes you feel that you want to fill your own gaps, and a key factor in that is the proximity, or, propinquity to a person you can rely on, because they don't have the same weaknesses as you. I just really love writing about people who are good influences to each other.

A lot of this fic will also be about dissociation and trauma. Yay.

Anem, then, is another original novel I've started multiple times without being completely satisfied. The premise is pretty classic religious cult + good girl/bad girl dynamic, or at least would seem like that in the beginning.

Here's how I seem to have described it on my website at some point:

Dina is a good girl. She picks up flowers every morning, to put on the altar of her family’s home. She’s chaste, she’s beautiful. She fears God. Semira is a “Wild One”, she rarely goes to church, she speaks out of turn. She could be beautiful, if her hair wasn’t so short. Dina doesn’t think it’s her job to save Semira. After all, if the Fathers don’t know how to help the girl, how could she? But Dina keeps ending up spending time with Semira anyway, and the more she does, the stronger the big black swirling something grows in her stomach. There’s clearly something very wrong about Semira. And there’s something wrong about the woods surrounding their isolated village. Dina knows she’s supposed to stay away, but Semira keeps going into the woods.

It has a lot bigger world and anything but clear-cut themes and dynamics, even though it may seem like that in the beginning... and it's one of those early projects that are sort of everything, because you're not good at narrowing it down yet. It's like a dystopian supernatural medieval fantasy horror philosophical cult story I wrote just to barf out everything I was thinking in my early years of studying theology. It's certainly a cult story, but is the cult the big bad or the world around it? It's certainly a queer story, but is it a love story or a hate story? It's certainly trying to say something, but what? No one knows, not even me. It's a big mess.

I'm also starting to feel like I'm dealing with every element and theme I have in this story, in some other story too, and coincidentally someone from my writing group actually just got a book published this year that has a strikingly similar setting and themes, (we both wrote them without knowing about each other) and even though it shouldn't, it does kind of add to my confusion to what to do with this story. I do still want to write it at some point, but it's a big question mark that sort of just pops up from below the surface every time I'm not actively thinking or writing about another project.

Some angsty pictures of Dina, also drawn in my early university years (Oh Lord how obvious my Arina Tanemura influences still were in the way I draw):

Yeah... at least they are accurately dramatic to the story.

Thanks for the ask. I hope there was something entertaining. <3

For anyone curious, here's the WIP list.

[blkkizzat]

Kaliiii, just think with me

Former babysitter reader. Four and a half months pregnant and having now dropped down to a part-time college student cause with baby on the way you're nesting.

Yuji is so excited to be an uncle. He keeps bragging about it to his friends. You are pampered. Neither he nor choso will let you lift a finger. They spoil you like a princess. Yuji always offers to carry any bag you have. Chosocooks. Cleans and practically worships the ground you walk on. And he's obsessed with the bumb. He kisses it every morning because, let's be real, you've practically moved in already. Half your shit is at his place.

He spends every free moment inside you too. He doesn't wanna be anywhere else. Y'all Falling asleep and he's still inside you. You complain a bit, "that's how we got this one " you say, pointing at your obvious belly. And he just mumbles something about practicing for the next one.

He does not discuss you two becoming engaged with you. You wake up one day, and his ring is on your finger. Two days later, the marriage registration form is on the kitchen counter. And you have yet to see this man. When you finally find him and ask him, "What the hell?" He just says it's a good idea. And emphasizes that you never have to work again if you don't want to, and you can focus on 8 y.o Yuji and the baby.

And he just sounds so logical. It makes so much sense. So you say yes.

Little do you know you're about to be literally Mother. You aren't sure how many kids you wanted originally but Believe me Choso wants more. And you are just happy to make him happy.

He is just determined to keep you from having to work as a babysitter ever again.-🧠

The wayyyyy u have influtrated my brain with this 🧠 babes!!!

FHIFSKHDSJHVKB NOT HIM GETTING US PREGGO (we knew it was gonna happen just a matter of time)

Lil' Yuji is the cutest!! Urgh thats always my fav part about these Choso AUs is you get to be like big sis/mommy to Yuji <3333

Omg Choso would be obsesssed with the bump I imagine him like rubbing oil/shea butter over your belly so you don't get/minimize stretch marks. When he isnt inside you, he's on top of you, gently resting his head to hear any movement he can and talking to the baby 24/7.

"He does not discuss you two becoming engaged with you. You wake up one day, and his ring is on your finger."

KDLJASIUHFA SCREAMMING HE IS SIIIIICK!!! Lmfao I love that man he is so fucking crazy and down horrendous when hes in love.

You know he would totally take care of you!!

Omg when you finally started lactating though, you gonna have to physically pry that man off yo tiddies. Choso loves you, and he loves his new baby but he might love yo leaky tits the best. lmfaooo he's gonna pout so bad when you tell him to save some for the baby. you gonna have the baby on one boob and his big ass on the other fcuhskhasdkjhaskja. its not even sexual he just likes the taste/comfort.

"He is just determined to keep you from having to work as a babysitter ever again."

You know he found out about Gojo and was like FUCK THAT and got your pregnant QUICKLY!!! Locked that shit downnnn. Especially when Gojo said "im not worried, she'll have mine next~~" Choso would kill him jhdsjasdhkhagsd.

HOLY SHIT —PAUSE— You just gave me such a good idea for an AU fic dhfkjadshfadshauhdfadkugyfhv. BLESS YOU!!!!!! Oh mannnnn the brainworm!! (so its basically an AU but Choji x reader, choso x toji x reader, where reader is yuji and megumi preschool teacher and they both are like fighting over you fjdjfhdskjsdfh. imma write that omfgggg imma write that)

This was such a good breakfast 😩💗

[vagabond-umlaut]

summer collapsed into fall

summary: gojo satoru has no favourite colour. he feels no need nor interest to have one, either. pairing: gojo satoru x reader [unspecified gender] tags: slight undertones of teacher-student relationship BUT there is NO ACTUAL romance between them; can this be called pining? idk; character study like fic of our sweetest satoru *cries* he deserves sm better; fluff but with a mild serving of angst; wc 0.8k notes: fic title inspired by a quote by oscar wilde; fic inspired by this lovely post i saw on pinterest; jjk isn't mine; loosely related to 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate'; tumblr hates me using dividers hence the new fic format ^_^

satoru doesn't really have a favourite colour.

it's never quite crossed his mind. and even if it has, he has never seen it to be important enough to allow it be anything more than a passing thought, a meaningless thought---it is not like his life will be impeded should he not have a favourite colour, nor is anyone ever going to ask him what it is, so why bother?

but now, as you peer up at him expectantly, having already listed your top five favourite colours and why you love them so, satoru wishes he did bother back then.

he decides to feign confusion.

"what?"

"what what?" you shoot back, eager gaze not wavering one bit, "i just told you my favourite colours; aren't you gonna tell me yours? it's fine even if you have just one, sensei."

but is it fine if he has none?

throwing his watch a quick glance, he turns back to you. then exhales a quiet sigh, tired but the farthest from annoyed, when he sees you're still waiting for his reply... shutting the bus window beside, he turns to lean against it, shifting to face you properly.

and sighs, decidedly noisier this time, "this isn't the type of questions one asks their teacher, y'know? they are too casual, meant more for a friend than for a teacher."

"you got to be the last guy to lecture me about etiquette, sensei," you retort without missing a beat, huffing a quiet, amused laugh.

"and after the time i had to bring you to ieiri-san after you passed out from drinking a bit too much: i guess we're a bit more than a teacher and a student, aren't we, sensei?"

not really... no.

while satoru believes your first point to be a debatable topic, he does not think the two of you are anything but a teacher and a student, no matter how much help you extended to him or will in the future---it's not like he isn't grateful, though. he is; he really, really is---it's just his belief that few acts of kindness do not necessarily cause a friendship between people, and he intends to tell you this very clearly---

but finds he cannot. he simply cannot.

not when you say, still so eager but with an undercurrent so achingly soft that even the strongest wonders if he can handle its weight: "i'm not that bad a friend, y'know---you can ask others if you want; they'll tell you i'm a good friend, not the best but a decent one---"

"why don't you guess what's my favourite colour?"

rude, yes, horribly so. satoru knows, he knows this very, very well. but what can a man do but divert when he's being unsettled by words like the ones you addressed to him, by the tenor you employed for him---

although now that he observes you consider his suggestion, the man wonders if diversion was the right tactic or not.

he could have just lied and told you any random color. he could have chosen to be honest and told you he has no favourite colour like you and probably the rest of the world have.

but no, he doesn't.

satoru does not opt either of the above two painfully simple, painfully easy options. choosing instead to ask you to guess what his favourite colour is... satoru never really anticipates he'll end up being this much more unsettled, thanks to his decision of diversion:

if there was a subtext of a haunting softness in your manners before, the sorcerer reckons it is the text now, typed out in bold letters then underlined and highlighted in neon---you too shift to face him, even moving the bag kept in between to your lap and shifting a bit closer, but still a respectable distance away---only to punctuate your effort with a keen stare, much too gentle, at him.

it's scary, he thinks. yeah, undoubtedly scary. but somewhere in the back of his mind, something says it's also comforting.

many eyes look at satoru throughout the day. they gape, they gawk, they study the man and every small aspect of his person with many different kinds of reasons behind them. but before today, there has never been anyone who has regarded him with this much care, that too for a nonsensical cause like yours...

he wonders, just what are you seeing in him?

just who are you seeing in him?

"it's orange, isn't it?" you exclaim abruptly, leaning a touch forwards with a snap of your pointer and thumb. voice too loud. smile too big. eyes too bright, way too bright---

satoru takes not even one whole second to decide:

he now has one favourite colour.

[mrsnancywheeler]

ommggg i read let me down easy today and i kept re-reading it bc its TOO GOOD AHH !!🦅🦅

it hurt so much but im a whore for angst first, and a human second🫶

just thinking about the reader suffering in silence because she feels guilty for having any negative feelings towards finnick :(( the way she dismisses those feelings bc she thinks that whatever she’s going through is nothing compared to what he’s been through :((

also thinking abt finnick’s slow realization that she’s suffering because of him :(( like the incident at the market is when he began to notice the changes :(( and later when he fully understands how his behavior affected her IT MESSES HIM UP SO BAD

i just know he was remembering his past interactions with reader (where she breaks the glass / when she rejected his money at the pearl necklace stand) AND CRINGING …and it only gets worse when reader spills her guts about what she went through. omg ik he was sick.

another #thougjt i had was how this might mess up the reader for a bit after too #idk (that just might be me tho lmaoo) bc i feel like once you’ve been in that cycle of feeling depressed/insecure for so long it’s hard to snap out of, even with constant reassurance 😔

But maybe that’s just my angsty side talking HAHA

but i loved this fic, 11/10🫶

-🦅

omg yes, literally my favorite thing I've ever written. ik I wrote it, but it's the only thing of mine I reread bc it's like the perfect expression of how I feel, like if I could represent myself in one fic it would be that one if that makes any sense. it's like a concept that always haunts my mind no matter what I'm hyperfixating on maybe because I'm just like melancholy like that 🎀🎀🎀

but thank you so much, I'm literally so glad people are enjoying it because it literally is my own roman empire

yes she wants to be angry, she is angry, but refuses to let herself be because his issues are what she needs to prioritize. how can she be angry when he is constantly suffering? even if it's not so slowly tearing her apart, like a piece of paper sitting in water, she's trying to stay connected for the illusion of it all, to be strong for him.

her being loving isn't new to him, so he isn't thrown off by that, only slightly confused by her waking up earlier then usual. so her gifts have little bearing when he's used to it and he really doesn't want to feel loved right now because he's trying to reject whatever will make him seek comfort. when she starts changing her clothes and makeup, it's different, but he's not responsive because she's always been his pretty girl and always will be, her buying new clothes doesn't make him perceive her any differently or wonder if there's a reason, people try out new things.

when he notices how other peoples interactions with her have changed that's when he really starts to notice, if everyone else perceives her as melancholy then something has to be wrong. even if he's not quick to point the finger back to himself. he tries gifts, maybe she wouldn't buy something because she wanted him to do it, some sort of attention, but it's not big enough part of the issue to have any bearing on the effects it's now had on her. the girl rotting depression era shall we say. eventually through that, what people say to him, self-reflection he gains full consciousness of what he's been doing, how he's been hurting the person he loves so much. and the guilt is incomprehendable.

how could he be so selfish? so closed off as not to process all the clear cries for help? thinking about how he was getting annoyed, feeling like she was being moody when she insisted on doing the dishes until the dish broke. how she ran out into the ocean, in the rain without a care to regain some sense of composure, composure to try and make him happy. then the necklace thing, how could he miss her clearly trying just to be with him, be near him, have the interactions with him that he was giving to the girl at the shop instead? he was so unresponsive to the emotional needs he just assumed it to be a material need that he was willing to give. so when she rejects the money it just doesn't compute, to buy it she needs it, and then she tries to send the message that buying something isn't what she's asking for but he misses it completely. he gets snappy and it snaps her.

so when he's finally talking to her, he needs her to tell him the truth, the nuances because he's been so blind to all of it. he needs to know how he hurt her and it really is like a full wake up call. he can't let his own trauma consume him, allowing it to traumatize her in different ways. like when she mentions her getting to the point of just wanting him to want her body if he wouldn't want her because that's how people perceive him, that's what was hurting him, but he inadvertently made her feel that way. it breaks him to think that he did that to her, that he hurt his girl that way. then the idea that she would have let him cheat on her, she would've picked being with him over her own well-being, well she did, and he doesn't deserve that. he can't fathom how he could be with someone who loves him so blindly as to choose being with a ghost of him over not having him at all, when she deserves so much better. when he has been so callous with such a precious kind of love. or the fact that he even made it seem like he had interest in anyone but her.

there will be a fluffy, smutty requested sequel but readers issues afterwards will be lightly touched upon in it. but yes, she would have to spend so much time mending her relationship with herself afterwards. he's totally on hand and knee trying to make it up to her, to prove how much he loves and needs her, to give the attention she deserves. but she's still paranoid about cheating, insecure, scared, even if she tries to mask it. but he knows. he could, and does, spend hours praising her, telling her how pretty she is, how she's the only one, how sorry he is, how much he adores her, but it doesn't stop the nagging voice in the back of her head. she tries to hide it but she's clingier and he's okay with that, she needs him more.

but yes there's lots of long term effects the incident has on there relationship. and they have to try and navigate that together.

thank you pookie, I love your thoughts sm 💋💋💋💋💋💋

[iamthecomet]

The biggest issue with the Dew vs Sodo argument is Papa called him Sodo on stage. I'm not saying it's right by any means for the Fandom to call the ghoul Sodo especially when, if I were him, and I saw my IRL nickname being used in fanfics that have some of the content that many of these stories do, I'd be wigged the fuck out. However, what I'm trying to say is, I can see the "well Papa called him that on stage" argument get made by the hard-core Sodo Ghoul name stans.

First of all, thank you for sending this ask! It's a good discussion to have.

Second, I totally get where those people are coming from. And I respect that reasoning. I genuinely refer to him on stage as Sodo when I'm talking to people not in this side of the fandom. But I'm also talking about the man, and not the ghoul when I do it.

And there is nuance to the argument on both sides, of course. And I'm not trying to shit on anyones preferences, genuinely call him whatever you want.

But I'm also not going to pretend it doesn't make me VERY uncomfortable. And usually, I just can choose to avoid it. The tag change has made that much harder.

I think fanfic/art is where I draw the line in my own head. Like I can watch live clips and think of him as both Dew and Sodo (who are, in my mind, two different people). But when it comes to putting him in made-up scenarios he's Dew always.

In fan works, it just blurs the line too much. I genuinely do not want to think about the musician when I'm thinking/reading/writing about the ghoul.

I'm glad you sent this ask. Because you're right. This is exactly the argument. And it's a fair one. And I get it. But I just can't make the leap. Because youre right, the idea of him being aware of the fics is bad no matter what, but its worse when his IRL nickname is attatched them.

Tldr: There HAS to be a place where we draw the line between ghouls and the humans who play them. This one is mine.

[darkestspring]

Aemond being so heavily delusional with outlandered reader, thinking she’s this perfect, simple thing that needs to be guided. Meanwhile she’s just confused and trying not to get fucking murdered.

She didn’t understand. She was so pure and simple. The gods had given him the perfect woman. One that would understand, that could never betray him. Someone beautiful and innocent.

"I..." she hid her panic, sensing that giving her real name was perhaps not the best idea "Daisy. My name is Daisy" she gave her best smile, innocent eyes widened, in a way that the man across from her would never suspect

“Daisy. My beautiful lady Daisy.” He said her name reverentially, slowly, softly, almost in a whisper. “Daisy… what an exquisite name my lady.” He was smitten. She was perfect. She was to be his. He looked her up and down, making no attempt to hide it because there was no need to. He looked into her eyes and smiled slightly, his best innocent smile. The gods must be looking down on him with favour today. He would marry her, he would make her his, she would be his, forever and always. His innocent little flower

"I... thank you?" she stuttered, heart pounding in terror, though all Aemond saw was her flushing the prettiest of pinks "If you don't mind my asking my prince, what do you intend to do with me?"

He didn’t even have to think twice. The gods had made him want her, they made his heart race thinking about her, and now, they had allowed him to come upon her and he claim his gift. It all happened so naturally. As he looked at her, his heart pounded. She was his. That is what the gods had intended. The gods had gifted him the woman I wished for.

“You are mine, my lady Daisy.” He said to her, his voice still soft, full of wonder at his discovery. “You are mine now.”

"...yours?" she furrowed her brow, trying not to hyperventilate from the intensity of the man in front of her

“Yes my lady,” he said, a wide grin on his face as he stared into her gem-like eyes. “I will keep you safe from harm. You will be… my wife, my love, my lady, forever. This is what the gods have willed. And I will do as they command. I have no need for any other woman. You are the one”

Aemond let the words soak in for a moment. “My lady Daisy… will you… will you marry me?”

Outlandered reader obviously initially realises how psycho Aemond is but has also watched enough crime shows to know to not piss him off and just play along for now, only to fall genuinely head over heels for her psychotic now husband. Because what other man would kill for her? Would worship the ground she walked on?

(NOT ME WRITING A WHOLE ASS FUCKING FIC IN YOUR ASKS)

KAT STOP MAKING ME OBSESS OVER THIS. I'VE NEVER EVEN SEEN OUTLANDER SHUT UP!!!!!

I think aemond would absolutely just straight up marry her, whether its in the valyrian tradition or in the faith of the seven doesn't really matter but he wants to marry reader so badly. he's convinced that its the gods will in his eyes, they have given him you so he'll marry you as soon as possible, so protect you from danger.

aemond is both obsessive and extremely protective. he wants to protect you from every danger. he knows that with vhagar, you'll be safe from all harm but he's also incredibly obsessed with you. he doesn't like being away from you for long periods of time and wants to be around you all the time.

i think he'd also want to introduce you to his mother and sister so he'd take great care to teach you the rules and mannerisms of that time period. he would absolutely dress you in either targaryen colors or green.

[venusjeon]

hi guys! not back yet but i feel i should comment on this given the type of stories i write and the fact i'm white.

i see fanfiction in a different light, personally. instead of using the boys' real personalities for my characters, i use them as actors—if the story demands them to be evil or dicks, i don't see anything wrong in making them be so because it's not how i'm claiming they are irl, but how the characters i've created and i'm "fancasting" them as are like. i honestly thought that's what everyone did. otherwise fuckboy fics wouldn't exist when the boys are sweethearts irl, and i don't think of them as fiction, but fanfiction. of course that is not to say my preference is the only acceptable one!! just that it's that, a matter of preferences.

now, because i mostly write historical fics set in europe, where i'm from, i make my characters be from there. a suspension of disbelief comes without saying here. you're supposed to imagine that both you and x member were born and raised in 15th century florence, 19th century london, or bronze age greece. i'm not from either of these places and european culture isn't universal, so i have to do a bit of imagining too just as i will when i set historical fics in south korea, my ocs looking like me in my mind and me being pale white. i've even had members be ocs' biological siblings, so that's even crazier. see it as fantasy if it makes it easier. but it would never cross my mind to portray the guys as white or any ethnicity/race other than korean! i occasionally write them naturally blond but i genuinely thought there was nothing wrong with that, like when other fic writers ask readers to imagine "agust d yoongi" or "wings era hoseok" etc, as the appearance of their characters.

in my fics, i expect you to take for granted that people of different races aren't "out of place" despite the time period and place, and that no one inside the story questions why there's an asian knight in medieval spain. you're more than allowed to consider all other characters as asian or black or whatever, sort of like in bridgerton or the witcher.

the reason i come up with more material for europe is not because i'm not interested in the boys' culture (i absolutely love it), it's because i'm more familiar with its history and the research is more accessible to me (checking primary sources without speaking korean makes that difficult). i couldn't set hysteria or angel in the marble in joseon as i would then be morphing korean culture to be more similar to mine and comfortable to me, and that i do find wrong.

these are my thoughts on the matter, by which i don't mean to invalidate anyone, just explain where my intentions come from. they're good, obviously, but i know that's not enough and it doesn't exempt me from partaking in racism. i will be more conscious from now on. if you see anything wrong with my fics regarding this issue, i welcome the criticism to learn from my mistakes (but please assume i made them unawares).