#he does seem like a polite cat to me

[mrslatifi]

idk much about how f1 works but this is how I understood the logan situation

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Perfect All American

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!american!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: you and oscar decided to make your relationship a secret in hopes to not stir up any “conflict of interest” rumors. however, he just couldn’t help being a proud boyfriend when you won your first race for williams as a rookie. 

♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: once again, i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write but i really hope it was worth the wait anon <3

-October 2023-

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, susie_wolff and 879,593 more

williamsracing We're incredibly pleased to announce that @/yourusername has signed a three year contract deal with us starting this following F1 season. She will line up alongside @/logansargeant and will be the first woman to drive a Grand Prix since Lella Lombardi in 1976. We are absolutely honored to have you. Welcome to the Williams family 💙

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yourusername its a perfect all american grid

user6 I understood that reference

user5 🦅🦅🦅

user1 USA USA RAHHH 🇺🇸🗽🏈

user8 WOOO

user2 following in susie's footsteps :')

prema_racing we’re so proud of you

yourusername <3

oscarpiastri I’ll see you in melbourne 😉

user12 it’s the wink for me

user4 im gonna miss prema era y/n

user5 @/user4 ok but the trio is back together !!! y/n, oscar, and logan

user6 @/user5 you’re forgetting about fred

user9 fred vesti always the bridesmaid never the bride

user10 need me some williams gear asap

user14 💙💙💙

logansargeant excited to finally have a fellow american on team torque

yourusername me 🤝 logan

alex_albon 😐

georgerussell63 and here I was thinking you were happy to join me at mercedes

user13 I’m a child of the britcedes-sargebon divorce

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Williams' Rising Star: Y/n L/n-

Williams has announced that American F2 Champion, Y/n L/n will be making her Formula 1 debut next year alongside Logan Sargeant. She has been making waves in the world of motorsports for over a decade now, and it seems that all of her hard work has finally payed off. She's already been placed in the history books for her impeccable talent on track and her inspiring work off it. Not only has she broken plenty of records in feeder series', but she also contributed to the creation of F1 Academy.

From Long Beach a to Monte Carlo

Early in her karting career Y/n was scouted for the Mercedes Junior Drivers Team and she's seemed to have a close relationship with Toto and Susie Wolff ever since. She uprooted her life from California to London as a young teen, taking a huge risk in hopes to accomplish her dreams.

What does this mean for F1?

With rising representation in all areas of f1, we can hope to see young women getting more opportunities to make their mark on the sport. Let's face it, the future of F1 is female.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, williamsracing, liablock, and 583,502 more

yourusername POINTS?!?!

tagged; @/bah_int_circuit

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williamsracing starting off this year strong!

frederikvestiofficial WOOOO !!!

yourusername WOOOO 🎉

arthur_leclerc way to go y/n

yourusername ty artie my favorite leclerc 😍

charles_leclerc hey ??

user1 @/yourusername what about oscar piastri-leclerc

yourusername I CHANGE MY ANSWER

oscarpiastri I'm so happy for you

yourusername <3

user2 ...

user3 👀

logansargeant lets gooo 💪

yourusername 🦅🦅

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by mclarenracingf1, landonorris, yourusername, and 983,012 more

oscarpiastri maiden win

comments are limited

yourusername never beating the polite cat allegations with that smile

oscarpiastri :]

yourusername I'm so proud of you btw 🫶

oscarpiastri 🫶

landonorris congrats

oscarpiastri thanks mate

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Dutch Grand Prix-

"Plan A, Y/n. Plan A," your race engineer said to you on the radio.

"What about plan C? I think it will work," you responded.

"Uhm, as of right now we don't want to risk your position, so plan A, Y/n, plan A." they spoke softly.

"I can hold the tires, I swear. We're already at the back of the pack, we have nothing to lose."

"I think that's the first time I've heard a driver try to argue their way out of the main strategy," Crofty laughed on the broadcast.

"Box, Y/n. Box."

You sighed, thinking you've reached your defeat. You pulled into your pit box and noticed the green ring on the tires.

They're putting you on inters.

They're following your strategy.

You clicked the radio button back on, "Thank you," you screamed to your team.

You were briefed with everything a few days ago, but you couldn't help but come up with your own plan after getting the weather report for the weekend.

The rain was about a minute away now and you begged the team to put you on intermediate tires right at this time. You knew it would be difficult to drive on a barley damp track like this, but if it worked you could be looking at a podium.

You only had to drive a single lap before it started pouring and your plan payed off. Almost the entire grid struggled with their dry tires in the new track conditions, giving you time to create a lead as they had to slow down and pit.

Every lap you completed as race leader made you more anxious than the last. You held your breath as you reached the last corner of the last lap, vaguely able to see the chequered flag. Tears filled your eyes as you crossed the finish line in P1, the Williams garage being shown on the big screen sprinting out to congratulate you.

-

Before you had the chance to jump into the arms of your team, Oscar was running up to you. He picked you up and pressed his soft lips to yours right in front of the cameras. You smiled into the kiss, happy tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He pulled you into a tight hug, "I'm so proud of you. I love you so much," he mumbled into your hair.

"I love you too, Osc." you laughed through your crying.

He pulled away, cupping your face in his hands, and kissing your forehead. You smiled as he wiped your cheeks with his thumbs.

"So... instead of us interacting with each other online to keep our relationship private, you decide to make out with me in public?"

Oscar laughed and hugged you again, "Just enjoy the moment.”

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by kimiraikkonen, sebastianvettel, williamsracing, and 6,394,625 more

F1 Y/n L/n makes history as the first woman to win an F1 Grand Prix and the first win for Williams since 2012. Well done 👏

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yourusername fact is walter white james vowles couldn't have done it without me 🗣️

georgerussell63 so true 🔥

logansargeant LETS FUCKING GOOOO

yourusername RAHHHH

susie_wolff I'm so proud of you 💗

yourusername <3

user7 the way susie was recording her on the podium like a proud mom :')

user8 ROOKIE WIN

user4 🐐🐐

lewishamilton @/yourusername incredible drive today. congrats on the win, it was well deserved

yourusername tysm lew 🫶

jensonbutton thats literally my daughter

youruseranme DAD 🫂

user3 I thought she was supposed to be Toto's daughter...

user6 @/user3 toto, lewis, nico, jenson──they're all related one way or another

user2 family tree is a wreath

mercedesamgf1 all hail queen y/n

user9 y/n to Mercedes 2025 !!!

liked by yourusername, landonorris, logansargeant, and 1,203,284 more

oscarpiastri y/n l/n. my best friend, the love of my life, and a formula 1 grand prix race winner. this is such an incredible achievement and I am so happy for you. I know you are out there inspiring so many young women and I couldn't be prouder. you are the most incredible girlfriend, driver, and person I have ever met. congratulations on the win, you deserve it. I love you ❤️

tagged; @/yourusername

comments are limited

yourusername osccc 🥹 you've been my #1 fanboy since our karting days and I can't thank you enough for all the support you've given me <3 I love you so much

♡ by oscarpiastri

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: tysm for reading <3 don’t ask me about the real life mechanics behind the tires bc im obviously not qualified for that 💀 i based that scene off of the strategy i use when i play gran turismo and i see the clouds get grey (it’s never failed me)

[tasteleeknow]

RASPBERRY PIE

minors dni. minho x fem!reader. 4k words content warnings. pet names (sweetheart, angel). mutual pining. sweet/shy reader. perv!minho. corruption kink. food play. dirty talk. oral (m rec.). soft!dom minho.

you bake your quiet neighbour a warm raspberry pie.

He's pretty sure he's utterly fucked from the jump – he finds himself attached so early he almost convinces himself you're a witch in disguise; that maybe he'd moved in next door to a creature designed to trap men like him. A siren, maybe. The sweetness was an act; all the soft tones and doe eyed looks were just a trick to lure him down beneath the waves.

He was determined not to drown.

And then you show up with the pie, a little flushed from working around a hot oven. It'd been 6 months – 6 months since he'd moved in, and as he opens the door to find you in an apron with little pink stains, a feeling of approaching and inevitable doom settles in his chest. Finally, you'd come to take him.

"Hi," you greet with a shy smile. "My friend brought me over far too many berries yesterday so..." you look down at the golden pie, carefully decorated and clearly still warm, "...well I made this. For you."

If he was wise, he'd politely decline, close the door, and never be faced with the reality of the sweet little siren in his apartment, offerings of temptation and all.

"For me?"

You look up at him through long lashes. "Do you like pie?" you ask. It's the way you say it, like if he doesn't you might genuinely hurt inside – like with a simple rejection of your offering, he had the ability to snuff out some little candle alight inside you.

"I like pie," he says.

Then you smile. Like it's the best news you've heard in weeks. "Oh, good."

He steps aside, his body betraying him. The siren enters with her warm pie and soft smiles – and he knows, unequivocally, that he's fucked.

He keeps his distance as you comfortably navigate to the kitchen to find a place for your offering. The apartments were all pretty much identical as far as he knew. The two on this floor, his and yours, were mirrored. He imagines that just on the other side of your joining wall, you took the same steps he did he each morning, in parallel.

You fiddle a little with the delicately placed raspberries atop the pie as he approaches from the other side of the island. You wear a tiny silver ring on one finger, much like one he wears on his own. He'd spotted it before, during short interactions in the elevator. He suppresses the urge to comment on it now, to ask if it meant anything to you.

He doesn't need to know you. He couldn't afford to. He was finding himself attached enough without it.

Then you pluck one little berry up in your fingers and bring it to your lips. He watches you. He watches you and he knows that he's walked willingly into a trap.

"Sweet?"

You look up. "Hm? Oh." You nod. "They're lovely. My friend gets them from this farm near his parent's place."

Friend. His. He sits in the feeling that stirs in his chest for a quiet moment. It's a rotten feeling. He doesn't like it at all.

"He brings them often?" he finds himself asking.

"Not at all. He just happened to come by after being there for a weekend. He doesn't go there often, I don't think." Your accompanying smile is almost enough to snuff out the rotten feeling before he has time to digest it. Almost.

Then he considers that this might not be the only pie. You may have made this other guy a pie just like it... maybe it was bigger, maybe you'd used the sweetest berries in his pie.

He kicks a cat toy across the floor as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, a little embarrassed by his own internal monologue. Witchcraft, turning his brain into mush.

"You have a pretty view."

He looks up to find you brushing your hands down your apron and rounding the kitchen island. You seem drawn to his floor to ceiling windows, a little moth to the light.

He follows.

"Mine isn't nearly this nice," you continue once he's standing beside you. "All I get is the construction site and a concrete wall." Then you close your eyes, head tilting back a little to let the sun's afternoon rays bathe your face. "Don't get the sun like this, either," you add, a little dreaminess leaking into your already sweet voice.

Oh, he's fucked.

"You like it?"

You blink up at him, eyes adjusting to the light again. "Hm?"

"I mean if you really like it, you're welcome over anytime, whenever." He wonders if this is part of your spell work, making him say stupid shit. Maybe he'd be better off if you were casting spells on him, if he had a reasonable excuse for being so fucking braindead. "For the sun," he adds, like it makes it better.

A small breath of laughter slips from your pretty lips. "It does get a little gloomy over there, on my side of the wall."

It was hard to imagine anywhere you were being gloomy.

"I should go," you continue after a short moment of comfortable silence, each of you basking in the sunlight. He really should appreciate that more, he notes. Then he considers the fact he'll associate this little patch of warmth with you each time he attempts such a thing.

"Sure," he says, following you from a safe distance to the door. "Thank you. For the pie."

"You're welcome."

Everything is fine. He's alone and he survived the encounter. Then he's faced with the pie. He stares down at it, warm and made with careful hands.

He plucks a berry off the top. He thinks of the berry you'd eaten in the same way.

Everything is fine.

He hesitates as he goes to pluck a second berry. Instead of lifting one from the crust, he presses the tip of his finger a little against the surface. Warm. He breaks through. His finger is coated in syrupy, red filling when he pulls it free. It's sugary sweet when he sucks it clean.

Shame. That's what he feels next. Because sweet gestures of neighbourly kindness should not trigger the kind of thoughts creeping their way into his head.

He wonders if the little siren's cunt is as warm and sweet as the little offering she brought him. He considers doing the right thing, having a cold shower and sitting in the morning sun with a slice of pie.

But apparently, today, and the day before, and every day for the past 6 months, Minho was not wise and he wasn't very good. Because he let the thoughts of his sweet little neighbour stew for months, and this is where it'd led him.

He stands there, one palm pressed flat on the kitchen counter, the other buried in his sweatpants, and he thinks of the sweet little siren with her sweet offerings, and he imagines sinking his hard cock into her warm, sweet cunt.

—

It's hard not to deflate entirely as you close your apartment door behind you. You'd expected too much from a single pie, you suppose. It would entirely out of character for him to ask you to stay for a slice, to take the opportunity to finally have a conversation longer than an elevator ride.

You sigh, dropping your forehead against the cool surface of the door. It helps a little. You're overheated, both from the cooking, the warm sun, and the heat that had bubbled up from the inside as the pretty - yet frustratingly reserved - man next door had watched you move about his space.

You hadn't lied, his apartment was far nicer than yours. You could imagine basking in that patch of sun any chance you had. You wonder if he does the same, if he sits there after a shower, chest bare and hair still a little damp - letting the sun warm his skin.

You leap back as a knock on the door jolts you out of your daydream. Sighing, you press your palm to your forehead - head thoroughly rattled - as you pull the door open.

Oh.

"Hi," Minho says casually. He's a little flushed compared to when you'd left him minutes earlier. He shouldn't be. There were no stairs between your apartments.

"Hello, again."

He glances over your shoulder, getting a clear view of your empty living room. "It is darker in here," he says, still casual.

"Oh. Mm, yeah. I miss your sun already."

His eyes fix back on you. Then he pulls his lip between his teeth slightly. He has something to say... something he won't say.

"Why'd you make me the pie?" he asks.

You blink. "I... had a lot of berries from-"

"Your friend. I know."

You're officially confused. His eyes drop down your dirty apron before returning to your face. "You only made one?"

"Is it bad?" you question.

He pushes some hair away from his eyes. "No," he says quickly. "No, it's... nice." His eyes sweep down your body again. "Sweet," he adds.

"I only made one."

His eyes jump to yours before a brief look of confusion flashes across his pretty face. He seems to remember his own question soon enough. "You didn't want to give it to," he gestures vaguely behind you, "your friend?"

"No," you answer simply. This entire interaction was drifting into territory you weren't sure you were ready for. If his questions got any more interrogative, you might find yourself wondering how to answer them in any other way than 'Oh, the pie? I baked it for you because I have a huge, embarrassing crush on you, even if you've seemed intent on not knowing me.'

"He doesn't like pies?" he asks.

You can't help following the path of his fingers as he fiddles with the chain hanging around his neck. They brush his skin as he strokes the metal back and forth.

"I... don't understand what you're asking me," you say as you pull your eyes from his neck. "Is something wrong?"

He readjusts his position in the doorway, pressing his hand to the frame and freeing you from the constant distraction at his neck. He leans over you a little like this.

God, he's pretty.

"You a witch?" he asks.

"I'm sorry?"

"Did you put something in it?" he continues, still leaning well and truly into your space. "Something to make me-" he cuts himself off, brows furrowing.

"Are you asking me if I poisoned the pie?"

His voice drops, like someone might overhear, despite you both being entirely alone on this floor of the building. "I'm trying to figure out why all I can fucking think about is how you might taste on my tongue."

Your head rushes, all the heat returning. Then your eyes drop to the floor.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

You don't. His shoes are safer. He was flirting. More than flirting. He wanted you.

His fingers guide your chin up, it doesn't take much, a nudge. "I'll leave if you want," he says. "Never mention it again. Just tell me what you want."

"Did you like it?" you find yourself whispering. "The pie."

His lips crack into a lopsided smile. It's tiny, but it's a smile. "Loved it, sweetheart. Sent me to heaven."

"Would you... would you like to come in?"

He nods.

You go to turn, to let him follow you. But then, instead, you take his hand and lead him in. He's warm. You imagine all the sun he gets over there must've absorbed deep inside him over time. Maybe he could leave some of it behind here for you - that heat might leak from him if your kept him here long enough.

He follows where you lead, his hand still grasped firmly in your own. You're not sure why you lead him to the sofa. You aren't sure what you're expecting next. It's why you find yourself simply standing beside the piece of furniture waiting for him to say something – to let go of your hand maybe.

Instead, his thumb begins brushing over your skin. He's quiet, seemingly unhurried to break the tension building.

"I asked my friend to bring the berries," you confess quietly, eyes focused on your interwined hands. Confessions were always so much easier with your eyes downwards. "I wanted to make something for you... specifically."

"Why's that?"

His thumb continues against your skin. He doesn't make you look at him like he had before.

"Because I... wanted you to - I wanted your attention."

You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, "So you baked me a pie?"

"I'm good at baking."

"You are," he agrees. Then his other hand reaches for the hem of your apron. He rubs it between his fingers a little. "Messy though."

You look down at the patterned splotches, pink on white. Then he releases your hand, taking that warmth with him. He only allows you a few seconds to miss it though. That same hand snakes around the back of your neck, skin on skin.

Your eyes are drawn to his without thought.

"Are you always messy?" he asks.

You nod, chewing on your lip a little.

He seems pleased with your answer, a small hum escaping his throat. "I like messy," he says, sounding a little far away. "Do you like messy, sweetheart?"

Your eyes drop to his lips, a little stained from your pie filling. "Yeah," you breathe.

He tugs you towards him before your have time to suck in another breath, attaching himself to you like he's starved. You can't help gasping a little into his mouth as he presses you into him with a hand to your back.

Holy fuck. Surely you'd wake up slumped against the door any second. Maybe someone hadn't just knocked on the door. Someone had opened it and knocked you out and you were dreaming about your pretty, brown eyed neighbour.

He groans a little before taking your lip between his teeth. No. No you were definitely awake. "So sweet," he mumbles as he releases you, his breath ghosting over your wet lips. "Can I have you?"

–

It's hard to keep his head on straight as you look up at him with those big sweet eyes. Can I have you? His stomach rolls as he waits for you to say yes. Please say yes. 6 months of denial and he was desperate.

You'd made that sweet little gift for him. Just for him. His little siren.

Then you're pressing against his chest, forcing him down onto the sofa. He looks up at you, at the stained apron and the hair sticking a little to your temples from the time spent making his pie.

Then you lower yourself to your knees.

Oh, fuck.

Your hands only have to brush his legs for him to get the hint. He spreads them, allowing you to shuffle closer to him – settling between his thighs.

Then you look up at him. "Can I taste you?"

He's keeping you. His head drops back as he collects himself. Then, "You want my cock in your pretty little mouth?"

You nod, fingers pressing lightly into his thighs.

Minutes ago he was fucking himself into his own hand imagining how warm you'd feel around him. Now you're between his legs, lips wet, asking to taste him.

He's careful to keep his eyes on you as he frees himself, intent on catching each and every reaction you make – he's keeping it all.

You're a little hesitant as you reach for him. "You're good, sweetheart," he encourages. "Touch me however you like."

It seems to be all you need. In the next second your soft little hand is wrapping around his length. His head drops back again as his eyes close.

It's a mistake, closing his eyes. He's not prepared when your wet lips press to the tip of him, soft and warm. He groans, hand automatically making a home in your hair. He needs grounding. He needs –

Your lips wrap around him. His little siren was sucking his dick into her sweet little mouth. His hips jump a little. "Oh fuck, that's right. You're all warm for me."

You hum a little around him. Then, you take him deeper. Hot little tongue dancing over his sensitive skin.

"Good girl," he groans. "Take it for me, sweetheart." He resists the urge to spill himself right here, right against your tongue. "Hm? You taking it for me?"

His hips jump again as he fucks himself into your hot mouth, wet and sweet and just for him. You'd wanted his attention. You'd come for him. Just him.

"You mine?" he gasps as he forces his head up to look at you. "You gonna let me fuck you?"

Your lips pull off him slowly, a little suction at his tip sending his head spinning. "Do you want to?" you ask, lips swollen.

He leans forward enough to begin lifting you, encouraging you to climb into his lap. Each hand rests at your hips as you settle yourself there, his leaking cock pressed between you.

"So bad," he answers.

You shift a little in his lap. He imagines you squirming on his cock.

"Me too," you confess. It's quiet, like it's bad.

Sweet siren.

"Sit on me," he instructs. "Want you to bounce on me, sweetheart."

You eyelashes flutter as you blink a few times, processing, deciding. Then you shift, reaching up under your dress and tugging your underwear down.

Something in his stomach stirs when he realises you were leaving the rest on, apron and all.

You grasp him in a soft hand, guiding him beneath your clothes – then you sink down. He's transfixed by the little sound that escapes your lips as you take him in. That, and the way your cunt feels squeezing around him. He might have to keep you for fucking ever.

Hot and sweet and wet and better than he'd imagined as he'd fucked himself against his counter minutes earlier. Better than any of the scenarios he'd dreamed up over the months he'd spent thinking of his sweet little neighbour.

You fall into him with a sigh once you're full seated, cock buried deep.

"Doing so well," he says, hand squeezing a little at the back of your neck.

You mumble something into his neck in response. He can't quite make it out, but he swears, it almost sounds like a tiny 'thank you'. He has to keep himself from filling you at the thought of it.

His hands return to your hips. You must take it as a prompt because you lean back from him enough to begin lifting yourself off him and dropping again.

It's slow at first, a little swivel in your hips, grinding yourself down into him.

The apron prevents him from seeing how his cock looks slipping in and out of your little cunt. He hasn't even seen it, that sweet little hole between your legs.

Instead, he feels.

–

It makes sense that a man as pretty as him would have the prettiest cock. One you wanted to taste. One that would have you slippery and ready to take him.

There's this vein that throbs in his neck each time he drops his head back with a groan. His neck. God you want to lean forward and bite into it. But he might not be into that. Next time, you think. Or the time after that.

God you hope there's a next time.

His fingers dig into your hip as you sink all the way down again. It feels a little like he's resisting, holding back.

"Minho?"

His head lifts, eyes a little glassy as he blinks at you. "Hm?"

"You can fuck me," you tell him. "However you want. I want you to fuck me."

He blinks again. His fingers dig into your skin harder.

"Tell me when you wanna stop. Just tell me," he says.

You nod. Then he's leaning forward and tugging you against him. His lips press to your skin just at the crook of your neck.

Then you're falling. He falls over you. Then he lets go. He presses you into the couch cushions as he drives into you, hair falling over his face. He's even pretty like this, with parted lips and brows slightly furrowed.

Your skin slaps together as he fucks himself into you. Messy, he'd said. He liked messy.

That's what he gets as he continutes to drive into you, as you begin to drip around him, as he fucks that wetness into you and over your thighs and then the sounds it all makes.... messy.

"Wanna fill you," he mutters. "God, I wanna fill you so bad. Wanna fuck my cum into your sweet cunt."

You squeeze your eyes shut as he continues, overwhelmed.

"You can take it for me, angel. I know you can. Sweet little thing made just for me. I knew it." He's muttering so much you're hardly sure he even knows what he's saying. His fingers are almost painful as they dig into your skin, like he can't hold onto you hard enough.

"Fill me," you gasp.

He eyes lift from where you join together to lock on your face. "Yeah?" he asks, a slight croakiness breaking his words up a little. "I'll make you all warm and sticky inside, hm? Just like your pretty little pie? That sound nice?"

Oh god. There was something inside you, something made for this – for him. You knew this was going to ruin you forever.

"Please."

He falls over you, then he bites. He bites into you as he floods you full.

[aemondfairy]

Renegade

summary: You discover one of Aemond’s biggest secrets and are reminded of the horrors of his past on a night out with your oldest brother, Aegon.

pairing: Implied Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of SA, Aegon is Aegon, mention of incest, angst.

note: This was meant to be a self indulgent drabble! lol, but if y’all like it maybe I can make a smutty part 2? Hehe … feedback is appreciated

With your thirteenth name day came great change. It was a grand celebration: A feast filled with music and dancing, various lords and ladies from throughout the seven kingdoms came to celebrate you and Aemond. Though it also meant you and Aemond being separated from one another. This year your mother had declared you would no longer share chambers. You had started your moonblood and Aemond was becoming a man; sharing a room would be deemed inappropriate. Aemond swore to you that he would come visit you each night.

You had spent the majority of your name day feast simply enjoying Aemond’s company. Nestled in one of the corners of the throne room, sharing lemon cake as you people watched. You tried to get Helaena to dance with you, but she was preoccupied; chasing a moth that had flown in through one of the widows. Your eldest brother, Aegon, was drowning in his cups, bothering any serving girl that came within twenty feet of him. In all truth, you were happy to just soak in the atmosphere with Aemond. Just the two of you, as it was meant to be, as it had always been. Your time with Aemond was interrupted by Ser Criston, asking for your hand in an innocent dance. After your mother’s sworn protector spun you around the room for a third time, you caught your balance. Your eyes locked with Aemond’s as Aegon dragged him from the throne room and into the night.

The hours dragged on as you sat in your new apartments. You anxiously awaited Aemond’s arrival, the last remaining piece of lemon cake and a small figurine of Vhagar you carved for him as a gift sat on your bedside table. When Aemond showed up at your door, the bright eyed boy you had seen just hours before was no longer there. His good eye was red and puffy and his stare was vacant. The cake and wooden dragon soon forgotten.

“What has Aegon done to you?”

Things had changed in the weeks since your father’s death, as well as the events that occurred above Storm’s End. Aemond had grown distant from you. Your time together grew scarce.

It was now a quiet afternoon in the keep when you overheard Aegon and his guards' future plans for the evening.

“You’re going to Flea Bottom tonight,” you say to your brother matter-of-factly, “I wish to accompany you.”

Aegon scoffs at you, furring his brow.

“What would Aemond think of this?”

“Aemond does not control me. He is barely ever around as of late,” you admit sheepishly.

Aegon’s eyes narrowed at this, a sly grin appearing on his face.

“Is that what this is about? Is our dear brother not giving you the attention you need?” He drawled as his fingers ghosted the underside of your breast before you swatted his hand away.

“No,” you lied, “I am simply bored.”

It was not a total lie, you were bored. It seemed as though all of your siblings had important roles to play while you were cast to the side. Forced to be imprisoned in the Red Keep until you were bargained off to marry some Lord for a political alliance.

You enthusiastically followed your brother through the winding streets of Flea Bottom as he led the way to a small tavern. The narrow, dirty streets were packed with all sorts of people; merchants and beggars alike, small children clinging to their mother’s skirts. You watched in amusement as stray cats darted around you.

The smell of ale, smoke, and sweat filled your nostrils as you stepped inside Aegon’s dingy tavern of choice. Clearly no place for a princess and far from what you were used to. You felt yourself naturally gravitate closer to your brother as you took in the appearance of the rough-looking patrons.

Aegon had announced your arrival, offering drinks as a pleasure from the crown. With that he heeded a warning: Any fool of a man who dare look at you the wrong way this evening may face the wrath of Aemond One Eye and a death by dragonfire.

As the hours went on and the wine flowed, you found you were having the time of your life. You drank and danced and sang. You had temporarily forgotten all of your troubles. The war that loomed over your family’s head, the loss of your nephew. You had wished Aemond was there to experience the fun with you. You hoped wherever he was, he was having fun as well. You silently thanked your brother for allowing you this small taste of freedom.

“Come on,” Aegon encouraged the young squire, “there is a madam here somewhere who is perfect for you,” he drawled. “I came here when I was your age, my brother as well…. This madam has a thing for the younger ones.”

You sobered up at Aegon’s words. He was taking the young boy to her. The woman who hurt Aemond. You were unable to protest as Aegon snaked his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him. You felt warmth in your bones as his fingers dug into your flesh.

“Come sister,” Aegon chirped, “this should be entertaining, but stay close to me.”

A curtain was pulled back and to your utter shock and dismay: Aemond was there, suckling at the breast of an older woman like a newborn babe.

You found it difficult to witness but even more difficult to look away. You continued to watch in bewilderment as Aemond tore himself away from the woman. Aegon erupted into a fit of laughter, practically falling over at the sight. You couldn’t blame him, a nervous laugh threatened to escape your own lips.

You managed to turn away, diverting your gaze to the squire boy who was looking on in horror. You covered his eyes with the palm of your hand, earning snickers from Aegon’s guards, you glared at them.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” you hear Aemond grumble to Aegon, clearly referring to you.

“Why would you bring her here?” Aemond questions, yet Aegon is still laughing.

You glance over and meet the gaze of the madam your twin brother sits beside. She studies your face, and a look of guilt is evident on hers. She is the woman from your thirteenth name day, no doubt, she has to be. You are unable to deny she is attractive. Her features are soft, welcoming, motherly. You can almost see her appeal. Suddenly you feel ill, and it is not the wine.

“Aegon! I would like to leave now!” You blurt out in a panic, unsure of where to look or how to even behave.

The king ignores you and instead stumbles onto the bed with Aemond. Taunting him, making crude jokes at his expense, mocking him. Barking like a damn dog.

Any positive thoughts you had about your eldest brother in the hours before were now gone. In an instant, it is as if you are all children again. Aemond is that defenseless little boy in the dragon pit. A mere plaything for Aegon and his cronies.

A never ending cycle, so it seemed.

“Aegon! You have said enough!” you scold him, he ignores you yet again.

If Aemond was embarrassed, he did not show it. You finally avert your gaze to his as he stands up abruptly, fully exposed. He is beautiful in this light. You wish everyone in the room could look at Aemond the way you did. You try and fail to look anywhere but below his waist.

“Your squire is welcome to her,” Aemond states coldly, his face emotionless, “any whore is as good as another.”

You find yourself wincing at his words in disbelief. Aemond was not one to ever disrespect a woman. Especially in the presence of others. In the presence of you. You watch the older woman’s face closely, she has the audacity to look betrayed. You wish you could feed her to your dragon. You are interrupted from your thoughts of her burning flesh when Aemond approaches you.

“Had your fun?” He asks through gritted teeth as he passes you, glaring over his shoulder when he does not receive an answer.

“Come now, we are leaving.”

Aegon snickers, now taking Aemond’s place next to the madam. He shoo’s you out of the room as he pats the bed, motioning for the young squire to sit.

“Would you look at that? A Targaryen princess, jealous of a common whore! Gods, our family is fucked up.”

“You are unlike anyone I have ever met,” you say to your brother. It isn’t a compliment. You want to cry.

“Must you ruin everything for everyone?”

“You’re welcome!” Is all he says as you dart out of the room and after your twin brother.

What Aegon seems to forget is Aemond is no longer that defenseless boy in the dragon pit. He is a man grown, with a vengeance and a thirst for blood. May the Gods take pity on you all.

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Of Lions and Mice

Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Reader is intended to be female

Masterlist

Leona was annoyed.

Once again, his golden goody-two-shoes older brother decided to shirk his responsibility of being a father and dump the overexcited, disgustingly bright-eyed crown prince on him for the day. And not only that, it had to be today of all days - a rare day where you were free from picking up Crowleys’ slack, where the loudmouthed, nattering extras that always followed you were otherwise preoccupied (and bribed to bugger off with a bag full of tuna), where he was certain he’ll spend the day in bed with you right next to him. 

But no. Just like with everything else in his miserable existence, his dreams were crushed and he had to spend the day playing caretaker to his nephew instead of wrapped up with you. What’s worse was that, you’d decided to carry the pint-sized load off of his back and gave your undivided attention to the cub when it should have been rightfully his. How he hated that selfless nature of yours, that sweet, caring, gentle nature that would make you look at anyone that wasn’t him with that loving gaze, that would make you brush your fingers through Cheka’s golden orange curls the same way you would Grim’s fur or the stray cats you’d find around campus or any other being instead of his mane. 

He hated just how loving you were, how your eyes could see the beauty in everything.

How, now that it’s late at night, and he’s closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in his attempt to actually get some shut eye and so that the little hairball would quit bothering him but Cheka just continues yapping.

Even in the darkness under his eyelids, he could feel you cast a worried look his way from the spot where his bed sags a little.

“Hey Cheka,” your sweet, dulcet voice (which is currently being used to please his nephew and not sooth him to sleep with the sweet nothings it usually does) pipes up, “how about I tell you a bedtime story from my world?”

“A bedtime story?!” Wow, even with his eyes closed he could see the stars coming out of his nephew's eyes, “yes please!”

Once the little cub has settled into bed, he asks you, “do you know any stories from your world with lions in them?

“Any ones with lions? Hmm, well, I suppose I could tell you about Narnia but I think you might be a bit too young for that and - wait,” you punctuated your words with a snap of your fingers, “I know a short one. There was this man called Aesop who wrote these short stories called fables.”

“What’s a fable?” Cheka asked, his words covered in that innocently curious lilt that all six year olds seemed to have during every occasion Leona wished they wouldn’t - and that was all of them.

You, however, seemed to have much more patience than him, “A story with a moral in them. Like, always be honest, or share, or work together, that sort of thing. I had a book of them when I was younger and I really enjoyed reading them.”

Figures. Of course, the shining beacon of sickeningly polite goodness grew up with such stories. He would’ve teased you for that but he had a child who he’s still trying to convince he was asleep.

“That sounds so cool, Aunty Y/N! Will you tell me more?”

“Of course, I will,” he can hear your smile, “but I’ll tell you them later, okay. Now, it’s time for you to rest.” 

“Okay, Aunty Y/N.”

“Alright so,” you clear your throat, “there was once a lion that lay asleep in his den. A shy little mouse came upon him and in her fright she ran away, only whilst doing so she accidentally ran over his head, waking him up.”

“Oh no,” Cheka gasped, “that lion is going to be so angry if he wakes up.”

Oh, so the little hairball does have a brain after all. 

“You’re right. Furious that he had been woken up, the big lion slammed a paw down on the tiny mouse and grabbed her by the tail. Holding her up, he growled at her,” here you made your voice noticeably deeper, trying to imitate a gruff growl, ““How dare you wake me up! I am the king of beasts and anyone who interrupts my slumber deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!””

It took everything within Leona to not burst into laughter at your adorable imitation of a ‘big scary lion’. It’s a voice you’ve used before whenever you tease him, playfully repeating the words his old self would have said to you, and it’s one that he’s rather fond of. 

He loves and respects you, Herbivore, and he’s the first to attest to your formidability and capability - even though you have the annoying tendency to not only blur the line between bravery and reckless stupidity but also play skipping rope with it - but intimidating you are not. 

“This scared the terrified mouse even more. Shaking with fear, she begged for him to let her go,” you make your voice higher at this part, squeaking in a way that oddly suited you, in Leona’s not so humble opinion, ““please, your majesty, I beg of you, please don’t eat me. It was only a mistake and if you let me go I’ll be sure to repay you. If you spare my life one day, I might even save yours.””

“The lion looked at the tiny creature and laughed, amused at how such a small mouse could ever be of use to an animal as powerful as him, “You? Save me? How absurd. You’ve made me laugh and put me in a good mood so I shall be generous and let you go.”

“Thank you, your majesty, thank you,” the mouse squeaked as she was put back on the ground, before scurrying away as fast as fast as her little legs could carry her.”

“Yay, so the mouse is free.” Cheka giggled.

“He is,” you said, “but there’s still more left. A few days later, the lion was prowling around when out of nowhere he was caught in a hunter’s net. Try as he might, he couldn’t get out of it. He tossed and turned, roaring angrily as he struggled to escape.”

“Wait, so now the lion’s in trouble. How’s he going to get out?” Cheka asked in worry. 

“You’ll see. Hearing his cries, the mouse followed the sound, recognising it from the lion he met earlier.

“I have to help him,” she squeaked as she scampered towards him.”

Upon seeing the lion in the net, she said, “hold still your majesty, I’ll get you out!”

And she quickly started to nibble on the ropes with her sharp little teeth, biting until all they broke apart. It wasn’t long until the lion was free.”

“So the mouse saved him. Was it because the lion helped him earlier?”

“It certainly was Cheka. “Thank you, little mouse,” the lion said, “I laughed at you and didn’t think you could ever help me but you saved my life.”

“It was my turn to help you.” The mouse replied, ”never forget that even a creature as small as a mouse can help a lion.”

And that’s the end,” you say.

“Thank you, Auntie Y/N, I really enjoyed that. Do you think the lion and mouse became friends after that?”

“You are very welcome, Cheka. I think they did. They did help each other, after all. Now I think it’s time to go to sleep.”

And once you were sure that the crown prince was asleep, you made your way next to your boyfriend, running your fingers through chestnut locks, “did you enjoy that little story, Leona.”

He opens his eyes to see your endeared smile. Rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around your waist he muses, “it seems awfully familiar don’t you think? A scared little herbivore wakes up a sleeping lion and ends up saving him later.”

“I’ll have you know, Your Highness, that I was never scared of you. Even when you were a rude old brute who threatened to knock out one of my teeth. And I’m certainly not little.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 

He pulls, letting you flop down on his bed beside him so that he can spoon you.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse,” he kissed your forehead, “I hope you know that I don’t ever intend on letting you go. Not after you helped in ways you could never even imagine.”

And so the lion fell asleep, holding the prey who rescued him from the confinement of his past safely in his arms.

[zhongrin]

a hybrid’s instincts

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, gorou, tighnari, (bonus) platonic!diona

◇ tags ◇ pregnancy, afab!reader, dragon!zhongli

◇ a/n ◇ what's that? will i ever stop pushing the dragon!zhongli agenda? hahahahahahahhahahhaha hhahaha ha ha- no.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

oh? what's this? it seems like your pregnancy triggered something in these men. their more… "animal side", perhaps?

ever since baizhu’s confirmation - actually, even weeks before that - zhongli has been very reluctant to let you wander out of the house. or even out of his sight, in general (which is quite strange since with his enhanced dragon senses you know he’s able to locate you within the house with no problems at all).

at night, you sometimes wake up to him in his dragon form. sometimes it’s his compact form nuzzling and he's purring near your stomach, sometimes it’s his half-dragon form where he’ll place his head beside your stomach with his tail curling around you protectively. it doesn’t matter whether you’re already showing or not; your heartbeat and the little hatchling’s brings him a sense of comfort that he needs, lest he becomes restless.

his nesting behavior is out of control. he’ll bring you all the pillows and blankets, surround you with the nicest smelling flowers, make you always wear his shirt, and he’ll bring anything you want to the bed so you don’t have to leave the nest. the further you are into your pregnancy, the more reluctant he is to leave you alone. he ends up taking that paternal leave hu tao has been telling him to get. bless her.

gorou is just as excited as he’s alerted. kokomi will have to force her best general to take a temporary leave from the army throughout your pregnancy because he’s so jumpy and sensitive to literally everything and his behavior is making all of the soldiers anxious.

gorou insists that you take a walk with him every day; just something light around the block to keep you from feeling lethargic. he’s also developed a habit to sniff everything that will touch your hand. yes, that includes your supposedly harmless change of clothes. it’s not ridiculous in his opinion! it’s a necessary precaution!!

will snarl when a stranger approaches you and tries to touch you in any way, even if it’s just a friendly gesture. he would be so embarrassed and apologetic about it afterward, but only once you’re at the safe haven of your house.

are you a forest ranger? an adventurer? does your profession require you to venture into the wilderness? welp, say goodbye to your job for the time being, because there is no way in any cycles of samsara tighnari would let you go into the dangers outside while you’re carrying his pups.

walking arm-in-arm whenever you're out and about is a must these days. whenever a villager congratulates you, you can sense his hold tightening despite the polite smile on his lips. if it was up to his instinct, he wouldn’t have let you get out of the house, but rationally he knows you need to move around and breathe in the fresh air.

though you still won’t be exempt from your beloved’s sassiness (”you want me to get you coffee…? do you think i’m an idiot?”) as long as what you ask for doesn’t harm you, he’s at your every beck and calls now, no question asked. you’re craving for collei’s specialized pita pockets? he’ll learn the damn recipe from collei herself and serve it on your favorite plate the next day. you want to be carried everywhere? good thing he’s got the physique fitting for the head of the forest rangers. you want ten kisses a day? say no more; he’ll give you thirty.

[bonus - platonic]

at first, diona seems super indifferent about it, only reacting with a ‘hmph… congrats, i guess’, but her actions speak louder than words. you know how cats tend to hover around pregnant women and even lay themselves near their bulging bellies? that's right.

no, you will not be having alcohol. no, your spouse will not be having alcohol. no, all the people within five hundred meters radius from you will not be having any single drop of alcohol. she won't allow those boozehounds to get close to you.

she’s so amazed at how your stomach keeps growing bigger every time you visit her. when you give her your permission, she’ll curiously poke and stare at your bump. her hand will gently pat your tummy as she unconsciously smiles. she starts to seek you out more often after that, telling you that she’s just there in case you need help, but you know she’s just worried about you. she would be such a good big sister to your baby!

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @clovcly | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 10: creampie with jing yuan from hsr

warnings: creampie, overstimulation, strap/cock traditions, praise, subspace, exhibitionism

notes: weird i’m starting to feel burnt out already

boring mundane talks, the usual annoying persistent people talking about the usual annoying politics and other boring topics. fancy robe and clothes wearing individuals with big names and seemingly important titles and position of power. yet they act like children on playground. shouting at each other, pointing fingers, name calling — no one really paid much mind during meetings like this between the seven arbiter generals.

and jing yuan was glad that no one does. who knows what they would say when they see his reddened cheeks, the constant movements of his thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate the pent up feeling of his leaking cock straining against his pants painfully. and the butt plug snug inside him, keeping your cum inside. preventing it from slipping out.

he couldn’t pay any mind to the meeting at hand. thighs rubbing together, lips pursed as he tries to muffle his needy whines. shit, you weren’t even in the room and he was acting like a damn cat in heat.

finally the meeting ends, making the general let out a sigh of relief and a groan of disappointment as he lays his forehead down on the table. shit, where were you? he was painfully hard, cock leaking against the insides of his pants and you weren’t even here to help him out.

it wouldn’t hurt, right? to help himself out for once. it wouldn’t hurt, right?

loosening his belt before taking it off, jing yuan slips a hand onto his pants, fingertips coming in contact with the but plug. muffling the whines threatening to spill out with his other hand over his mouth, he grinds himself down, trying to gain a bit of friction and to fuck your cum deeper into him.

aeons, where were you? he was getting so desperate and your seeds that you fucked deep inside him so hard and earnestly since last night was threatening to spill out. he needed you.

needed you right here beside him, whispering how filthy he was for enjoying something like this despite having a reputation to keep. needed your fingers slipping inside his cutely stretched hole, hitting that one spot that makes him cry and trash around. needed you to plug him up again with your big cock, fucking the cum deeper into his stomach where it had a small noticeable bulge that he covered with his clothes.

too caught up in his own fantasies and attempts at trying to keep himself quiet, jing yuan failed to notice that you had walked into his office. the door locking with a click! as you make your way to him. once beside him, you guide his hand off of the butt plug, instead bending him over on his desk. that seemed to snap him out of his thoughts.

“b-beloved! please… hurry. hurry! need you inside me… again. h-hurryyyy…!” the general whines deliriously, a hand going back and tugging on the fabric of your pants with urgency and shaking hands.

cooing soft words of reassurances, you eventually slip out your strap/cock. taking the butt plug out of his stretched hole, your hands spread his cheeks apart, watching with a chuckle as he complains of feeling so empty. a single glob of translucent colored fluid slips out, dribbling down to his balls. that was the sign you got to push your strap deep inside him in one go.

“h-hurry! hurry hurryhurryhu—UNGH♡︎!! gyaanm so good... so fucking full...♥︎” the white haired man squeals, glad that he could finally feel you inside him again. a shaky hand goes down to rest over his stomach, where the bulge was more evident now.

with a sly smile, delirious giggle and flushed cheeks with heart shaped pupils, jing yuan bucks himself back onto your cock.

“fill me up properly again, okay beloved?”

[think-like-a-poet]

The food challenge

F2! Logan Sargeant x F3! reader x F2! Oscar Piastri

Original video on youtube

"Hello everyone, I'm Y/N, and this is the Prema Formula 2 and 3 food challenge. I'll be feeding my friends Oscar and Logan Sargeant, and they'll have to guess what they're eating without seeing it." You wave and pointed to the two boys standing next to me, and Oscar smiled politely. Logan, on the other hand, looked happy to be here.

"So excited," Oscar said sarcastic and the american just laughed at him.

"Oscar and I both wear blindfolds so we don't see the food." Logan explains as you hand both of them a pair of cat blind folds. The looked quite stupid.

As the boys put on the blindfolds, you grab the aprons that angelina gave you to put on the boys so they don't mess up their team clothing. "How does this work?" you look at it for some time before figuring it out.

handed them each a pair of cat blindfolds. "We'll both be wearing blindfolds so we won't see what we're eating," Logan explained. Oscar nodded in understanding.

You opened the first plate, revealing a plate of marshmallows. You picked one up and brought it to Logan's mouth. "Open up, Logan," You said, and he took a bite. "That's amazing!" he exclaimed, making Oscar and me laugh.

"You have to try and explain to Oscar what it is." you remember him as he takes a second Marshmallow of the fork that you still held into the air.

Logan thought for a moment before responding, "It's white and you held it over a fire." It wasn't hard for Oscar to guess; he immediately replied, "A marshmallow!" I clapped my hands together in excitement. "Yes, one point for Oscar!"

"Can i have another one?" Logan ask, and you just laugh as you put a new one into his mouth.

"I really like marshmallows." he tried to say while he chewed on his candy.

The next plate was opened, revealing a spoonful of licorice. I knew Logan wasn't a fan of licorice, so it took some effort to get him to take a spoonful. His face contorted in disgust as he chewed. "That's disgusting! How can you do that to me?" he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"What is it?" Oscar asked and you look at him with a questioned face, "that is what you are supposed to ques, kangaroo." he just shakes his head at the nickname before Logan starts explaining.

"Italians love it; they have it every morning." However, his description was far off from the actual food.

Oscar guessed again, saying, "Espresso? Coffee beans?" Logan agreed enthusiastically, but I shook my head. "That's not right."

"I have it wrong." Logan asks confused.

"Yes. That is what not having it right means." you show the plate tothe camera, "It was liquorice"

Oscar asked, "How do you confuse that with coffee beans."

Logan shrugged, "It tasted the same."

Now it was Oscar's turn to try and guess. You grabbed the next plate and opened it, revealing a sliced lemon. As Oscar took a bite, his face scrunched up in distaste. "Ugh! Why do I get this one?" He groaned at the sour taste.

"It is sour and-" before Oscar could finish explaining Logan quested, "A sour patch?'

"No. Let me finish my sentence."

"If it was it wouldn't have counted because Osc said half of the word."

Logan just seemed to realised that too.

"It is sour and yellow. It grows on a three,"

"A lemon." Logan exclaimed and Oscar and you agree.

The boys took off their blindfolds and went to stand next to you again.

"This was the Prema food challenge. We hope you like it, I did certain ." You smile and recivied two hand slaps on your arms.

---

Tag list: @hiireadstuff @nikfigueiredo @elliott-calls @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 🍒

Sometimes love doesn't make sense.

Tags/Warnings: Tattoo artist/Piercer Jungkook, Pastel!Reader, opposites attract, Strangers to lovers, Fluff, suggestive flirting, adult themes but no smut, consensual hand holding

Length: ~4k

There is no taglist for this fic.

Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ��� ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🍒── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Uhm-" you wonder, stepping inside the store to be greeted by the guy you know as Jimin.

"Hi, my friend has an appointment?" you say, and the artist stands up and walks closer. Your friend stays close to you, buzzing with the excitement of getting her first tattoo ever- too shy to say anything.

When it comes to that, you're a little ahead of her. As long as the person isn't intimidating, you're fine talking to them, asking for help or anything alike.

"Yeah, it was the dragon on her back, right?" and your friend nods. "I've got it all prepared already. Wanna come downstairs with me, I'll explain the rest of it there?" Jimin kindly says, taking her coat and leading her downstairs where you assume everyone works. "Oh, you can just wait in the back there, or stroll around town. It'll take a while." he says, and you nod, a bit unsure now after being left alone.

"Hm?" a voice chimes up, before he speaks again. "Oh, Thought I heard something." the guy comes into view, and suddenly you can't talk.

This is what you can't talk to.

Intimidating? Heavy boots and black clothes, silver chains and piercings and a fully inked sleeve including his hand present themselves to you, muscles free since he's only wearing a black sleeveless top that should be illegal for him to wear. His smile is the friendliest you've ever seen, reaching his eyes and his slightly wild hair just makes him look even better, sides buzzed down to mere millimeters left- you want to disappear from the earth and his memory forever.

Fuck. He's looking like every goth-girl's wet dream while you're dressed in a pastel colored dress and thick knee high socks to keep your feet warm in this cold weather. Great.

"You can sit here in the back with me, otherwise you'll catch a cold from all the cold air blowing in every time the door opens." he recommends, pointing to a couch in a corner that you assume is where they all spend their breaks. Awesome, he's a gentleman as well it seems, making it all even worse for you. "You want something to drink? I've got tea or coffee." he wonders, and you meekly press out a 'tea, please.', making him chuckle.

He probably thinks you're nothing more than a child, with the way you look so out of place.

You envy your friend in that department. She's got piercings, she knows cool friends, she has exciting stories to tell. Meanwhile you sit at home and knit sweaters and blankets, help out at the local animal shelter because you get to pet the cats and dogs all day, or work at the library where you aid tourists find the town's guide.

"Your friend was the tall girl, right?" he asks, coming in with two cups, one of which he sets down on front of you. "I'm Jungkook by the way." he introduces himself, smiling before he leans back in his seat. Of course he's interested in her, you think. She's exactly his type, though he looks quite a few years older than her.

Well- the least you can do is help her find a date.

"Ah, yeah, she's my friend. Best friend." you say, pulling the cup of tea closer. "Thank you, for the tea." you say politely, and he grins in front of you.

"No problem." he waves off.

"She's uh.. She works at a car-uh.. She does those paint jobs. Like, those complicated one's that look realistic and all that." you try and explain. "I.. Forgot what it's called though. But uhm.. You can ask her later maybe?" you say, and he shrugs, setting down his cup before he smirks impishly, tongue playing with his lip ring in a manner that you can only describe as illegal.

"I probably could do that-" he starts, before he tilts his head a little to the side, body leaning forward. "-but I'd rather get to know you a little more." he wonders, and you almost choke on your tea- but you're composing yourself. "Maybe I could start by asking if you've got a boyfriend?"

Well, so much for composing yourself.

Your wide eyes look at him scandalized, and he giggles at the sight of it. "I- uh, no, I mean no I don't have one, to be honest-" you laugh a bit nervously. "-guys don't.. I- most guys don't really look my way, you know. So I thought, you know, considering-" you motion up and down towards him, "-you'd be more interested in my friend." you ramble, and he just shakes his head, smiling.

"I mean, she seems nice- but, I don't know either." he shrugs. "Something about you- it's hard to explain."

You shift a little on the spot now, unsure what to do in a situation like this. Typically, you shut down guys quickly, scared of what's to come. But you also don't want to keep doing exactly that- not when you've got the chance of something right in front of you like that. For the first time, someone's actively interested in you. Someone who seems nice, that is.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, by the way." Jungkook suddenly rips out of your thoughts. He leans back again, giving you space, and it makes you feel a little deflated. Did you blow it already? Oh god you screwed it over, didn't you?

"No, you're not, don't worry." you say, looking down. "I just.. I'm not used to this. I'm usually always the wingman instead- or.. Wing-woman?" you think, and he laughs.

"Hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it." he says, still friendly. "So, I'm wondering- any tattoos? Piercings?" he wonders, and you nod- instantly making his eyes sparkle in interest. "Oh- can I ask what it is, or do you want to let me find out later?" he says, and you instantly turn red, making him laugh. "Sorry, sorry- I'll stop, promise." he waves off. "..for now."

You laugh at his antics, unable to keep a straight face by now. "You seem like you know your way around with girls." you say without thinking, before you hurriedly correct yourself. "I-I mean I don't mean that your like, a fuckboy or something or- maybe you are that's fine too! I don't judge but- oh god.." you put your head in your hand. "You know what? I'll just wait here for her, I'm so sorry." you mumble more or less.

But much to your surprise, he simply laughs, head thrown back for a second before he grins at you, front teeth slightly protruding, giving him a bunny smile.

"You're so cute, I swear." he says, shaking his head. "I- is it okay if I ask for your number?" he wonders, and you look at him for a good moment, squinting your eyes as if you test to see if he's serious.

"I.. Sure..?" you say, pulling out your phone with all the different charms attached. He grins and shakes his head amused, though clearly excited as you type in your number into his phone before calling yourself to make sure it's correct.

"So!" he grins. "Since your friend is gonna still be out of order for a good four hours downstairs," Jungkook stands up to hold out his hand. "You up for some boba for our first date?" he asks, looking down at you even though you're standing as well by now.

And you nod, walking next to him through the slight October fog outside in town, his hand warming up yours.

You don't even realize how.. easy it feels, right away. His hand holding yours is not demanding, giving you the option to let go at any point, but you don't mind holding it. It's warm, comfortable, and it also makes you wonder if that's something he enjoys. Did he date a lot already? He certainly looks like he got the choice, girls probably falling for him fairly easily.

Well.. you're already trusting him too. How ironic.

"Just tell me which one you want, I'll go order." he says later, holding out a hand in case you lose balance as you clean off the rain from your boots as to not bring it all into the small store. "I'll pay too by the way, no but's!" he grins, while you look up at him with a pleading look.

"No, I'll give you the money back for mine." you say.

"But then it's not a date!" he argues back, a whine in his voice as if to mock the way you just spoke to him. "then it's just- two people getting a drink at the same time."

"what's so bad about that?" you laugh, crossing your arms without thinking- an action he playfully copies, pushing out his chest, fabric of his jacket stretching over his biceps.

"That it's not a date!" he says, before laughing as he relaxes, talking more quietly now with a lower, more serious tone. "Alright, in all seriousness though, I'd still like to pay even if there's no date." he tells you.

"I- no, a date is fine, it can be a date.." you say. "I just don't want to.. Come off as a leech for taking your money if you end up not liking me-" you ramble, and he smiles warmly, holding your shoulders before his warm palms touch your cheeks for a second.

"You're overthinking too much." he giggles, before letting go of you. "right now, I like you very much. And even if we don't end up working out, I'm not that kind of guy to go around and talk shit about people." he shrugs.

You sigh at that, before pointing towards an item on the menu. "..can you- I don't like that much ice in mine.?" you say, and he nods, before walking towards the worker to order.

He's oddly okay with you, you've noticed.

Normally, people and especially guys get frustrated easily due to the fact that you've got trouble deciding things, or that you don't like ordering, or that you quickly feel bad because your brain thinks the worst about every single word that's said to you. But he seems nice enough, doesn't come off as annoyed or anything. Despite his way of talking and his outer appearance, Jungkook feels nice to have around.

You wonder how a guy like him can be single.

Or maybe he isnt? Maybe he's into the BDSM scene, a swinger, or in an open relationship, and he just want to offer you a threesome? He looks like he might be into that stuff, like a dominant guy that enjoys taking control over his partner in the bedroom. Does he tie people up? You've seen stuff like that before, and it's not something you'd be opposed to if he'd be the one to-

Wow, alright, exit was three miles ago.

"Everything alright?" he chuckles, snapping you out of your thoughts, amusing him as he notices the way you turn red. "Been staring at my ass? Can't blame you, honestly." he jokes, making you hit his shoulder playfully before you take your plastic cup from him. "Hey, this might sound super shady and you don't have to say yes-" he starts, stepping out the small store with you where it had started to snow again. "-but I've got my apartment a few minutes from here, and it's freezing cold, so-" he takes your hand and looks down at you. "-you wanna go to my place?"

You're nervous now, more than ever. Thoughts are entertaining, they're safe and most of all yours and not real, but the prospect of potentially going into an apartment you don't know, with a guy you don't know, is scary. What if he's actually a serial killer, or really into BDSM and you'll get involved in some shady fifty shades stuff-

"-you really don't have to say yes. We can just go back to the Tattoo shop and talk there, I don't mind." he reassures, and you still don't answer. "What's worrying you? Maybe I can help."

"I-" you start, unsure, and fingers already hurting from the cold cup as you both walk outside the small store, walking side by side. You enjoy this a bit more- without holding his hand, you feel safer having a discussion like that. "-you know, guys only take girls to their place for.. Stuff, and I'm not like that, but I also kind of want to be but at the same time it's scary-"

"Hey, no, I'm not out for blood if you mean that." he chuckles, holding out his arm to make sure you wait until a car has passed the road you're both trying to cross. "Like, I'm not gonna lie and say I've never had one-night-stands or quickies or whatever, but right now I'm interested in you, first and foremost." he explains, his rather blunt words causing an elderly lady to turn her head scandalized as she walks past. "Also, I'm into begging. I'll only fuck you if you ask nicely." he smirks down at you next to him, before laughing out loud at your wide eyes and red ears.

"I-" you struggle to form words. But you're also horribly cold. "Alright then. I mean not the fucking part, at least not right now maybe sometime in the fut- where was your apartment again?" you stutter, and he grins so hard his eyes almost close.

"You're so fucking cute, my god." he shakes his head, before taking your hand again. "It's right down this road." he simply tells you, before you both find yourself in front of an apartment building where he takes you upstairs to his door. "Ah, I didn't clean up, by the way. It's a bit chaotic." he sheepishly offers, before the door opens.

It's warm, inviting. Doesn't smell bad, and it's not as chaotic as he told you it would be, Jungkook walking inside before you walk around, inspecting the apartment.

"I've put your boots in my shower, in case you're wondering where they are." he says after emerging from his bathroom, opening a window a little to air out the apartment. "make yourself at home, don't be so stiff." he chuckles, smiling when you visibly relax.

He sits close to you on the couch, but keeps a respectful distance between the two of you. He watches as you inspect a hole in a blanket he's got on the couch, shrugging. "My friend has a dog. Small little shit tore a hole in there, but it's still good so I keep the blanket."

"It's an easy fix." you say. "If you take those two parts of the yarn and then those, you can just tie them together so it doesn't rip open any further." you explain, and he tilts his head a little.

"Oh? Do you knit?" he wonders, and you nod.

"I.. My hobbies are kind of lame. I knit, and I help at the shelter a little away from the town. Other than that, I just.. Kind of exist in my apartment." you tell him. "I work at a library near the main train station. So, I'm not really interesting." you say, while he shakes his head.

"Don't say that. I think that's all pretty cool." he reassures. "Sounds like you've made a cozy life for yourself. That's pretty impressive considering today's times." he says. "I've always been.. Unsatisfied. With almost everything." he shrugs, leaning back, socked feet resting on the edge of his couch you're both sitting on.

"How so?" you wonder, taking a sip from your drink, before putting it back onto the small table.

"I don't know." he explains vaguely. "I guess I always had way too big dreams and aspirations. And now that I'm at that age I back then wanted to be, I feel like I wasted all my time with nothing but short-lived successes and people who only wanted me for the moment."

"Kind of.. Reminds me of myself." you giggle. "I.. When I was young, even a teenager, I always said I won't have kids. But these days, I kind of think, in the future I want them. Not right now, but one day. I wanna have a family and stuff, live in a house and have a dog and a cat and a husband and all that." you giggle. "like I said, not right now- but in the future."

"Hmhm. I never wanted to marry either. Thought that's just bullshit." he says. "But now, after seeing some of my friends have that, I'm envious. I want that too. A partner for life, I mean. A boring life." he says.

You hum a reply, nodding to yourself, a bit of quietness falling over the both of you, before he moves again, sitting down more comfortably turned towards you.

"I.. Would really like to get to know you. Seriously, I mean." he starts explaining. "Like I said, I.. Don't know what it is exactly, but you're.. Fuck you make me all weird." he laughs. "I wanna stay in contact with you, if you'd like. We could watch a movie? Only Netflix, no deep-throating during commercial breaks, promise!" he jokes, before adding, "..except if you're up for it." he giggles when you hide your face for a good second, laughing.

"I don't even know how to do that!" you laugh, making him raise his eyebrows while playing with his lip ring.

"Oh I can teach you, don't worry about that." he teases.

"I'm sure you can.." you mumble more or less, sipping on your drink. But your sentence seems to make him curious, eyes gaining a challenging glimmer as he leans forward.

"No no no, let's rewind a bit there." he says. "Just so I know where I'm at. You a virgin?" he wonders, and you pull your legs closer to yourself.

"..no." you shrug. "But.. I highly doubt I'm as adventurous as you." you tell him, making Jungkook smirk a little, as if challenged.

"Are you? What do you think I'm into then?" he wonders. "I've got a feeling you've made up your mind about me more than I thought."

"I mean, I don't know?" you say. "You.. It's not that hard to have more experience than me. I only had sex like.. Twice, and it's honestly not really for me." you shrug. "it's weird to.. Ugh I don't know."

"No, you do know, you just don't want to say it out loud." he clears up for you, making you nod. "Did you ever have an orgasm?"

"Jungkook!" you bark out scandalized, making him raise his hands in playful defense.

"What? You gotta ask these days, men are shit in bed most of the time, I have to admit that!" he laughs, shamelessly talking about this as if it's nothing but the weather outside. "So? Did you?" he wonders, and you shrug. "So you didn't?"

"I- don't know!" you say, a little glad you can finally talk to someone about it, hesitation finally breaking as you get the chance to make your frustration some room. "It's different when I do it myself. Like, then I'm pretty sure I have one? But when I had sex it was different, like I was almost kind of there but also not.." you lean your head on the backrest of his couch.

"Sounds like you didn't then." he tells you. "See, there's women out there who can't cum from penetration at all. The key ingredient is being fucking attentive." he explains. "I got more than just my dick, is what I'm trying to tell." he says, wiggling his fingers in front of his face, several rings adoring some of them- and you laugh.

"You sound like you're trying to get me to have sex with you right now." you joke, but he just shrugs his shoulders, tongue poking against his cheek for a moment.

"I'd fuck you any day you'd let me." he simply answers, eyes on yours. "After all, I gotta check out those tattoos you said you have." he flirts, and you move around a little, air between you both getting thicker. At this point, you can't deny the attraction. And with the way he talks and treats you, you're sure you'd let him prove his point as well. Right now. No regrets.

He notices the way your eyes fall to his lips, getting attached at the silver piercings there for a good moment, before you find his warm eyes again. And even though he really did not intent to be so forward so fast, he still scoots closer, tests the waters, places his arms on either side of you before the tip of his nose almost touches yours.

"Been wondering for a while now.." he starts, licking his lips before he looks down to yours, face tilting a bit as he looks at you. "..what flavor that lipgloss might be." he jokes, before he can't help himself.

You've not been kissed often in your life, not even in relationships. But you know for a fact that there's no experience comparable to the way he kisses you- not only his lips, but also his hands craving you it seems, making you feel completely under his spell. He's not just kissing you with his lips. He's using his hands, his tongue, knows clearly how to create a moment.

Your phone rings.

His rings soon after.

He laughs- and so do you.

It's a little awkward for a second, before he sends a message informing his coworker that you're on your way back, his grin still evident, never vanishing it seems. "so..?" you wonder having stood up to go grab your coat.

"So?" he parrots back, standing up as well to walk closer to you.

"What flavor is it?" you shyly try and flirt, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you again, just a peck, and another, and just one last one before he parts with laughter.

"I'd say cherry-" he grins, watching you tie your boots in his hallway before he cages you in at his front door again the second you stand back up, unable to resist you now that you gave him the chance to taste you.

"But let me make sure I got it right."

[libraford]

Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.

On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.

I approach.

Lady: "These aren't mine."

I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.

So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.

I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.

I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.

I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.

So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...

A black pigeon.

Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.

Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?

So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.

We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.

Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...

...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.

The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.

The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.

They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.

The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:

"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"

I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.

"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"

The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.

Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"

We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.

"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.

"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."

"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."

She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."

"Hm. Well. Note to self."

"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."

[fandomapocalypse]

Love and relationships in Hazbin Hotel

Episode 7 has something interesting and in the song that is called "Out for love" is sung by a character that is referring to a type of love different from a romantic or sexual one, Carmilla is openly talking about familial love. Vaggie of course relates this to her romantic feelings towards Charlie and how she wants to help her. But something else interesting happens in episode 7, Rosie is properly introduced as Alastor's bestie. This leads to showing another type of love: platonic love.

Now to the main point of this post: Alastor. It's canon that he is aroace and as an ace myself (I'm still questioning whether I'm aromantic or demiromantic but this post isn't about me lol) I'm extremely happy to see myself through him. Plus, the fact that the perfect Tumblr sexyman is aroace is genius and hilarious, you can't possibly top this type of humor.

Alastor for me has been a great ace representation and I've seen myself mainly in how he acts around his friends or other people.

When it comes to Niffty it looks more like a relationship between someone with their feral cat or their crazy little sister. But it's still a genuine connection and a fun chaotic one at that, he even lets her touch his hair and climb on him. In regards to Mimzy, he has shown he cares about her and welcomes her with open arms. He openly hugs her, which shocks everyone in the cast. This is extremely important because Alastor usually only starts physical contact to mock others or to pretend physical closeness as a manipulation tactic (like he often does with Charlie). When it comes to people he hates Alastor may touch them but will quickly wipe his hand on his clothes, like what he did with Lucifer. Personally, I don't like personal contact and only accept it if I start it and usually I use it as a way to show affection with close friends. Also, they have known each other since they were alive, so Mimzy probably knows a lot about Alastor that the rest of the cast doesn't. Mimzy also says that they used to dance together. But that doesn't exclude the fact that she uses Alastor's friendship and affection to save her own ass and taking into account how Husk reacted to Mimzy, this isn't the first time she does this. Also, the relationship between the two starts to crumble after what happened in episode 6 and Mimzy seems to be the kind of friend who will pretend that they are still on good terms and still ask Alastor for favors in the future.

Now jumping back to Alastor's true bestie: Rosie. They probably bonded at first over their cannibalistic natures but it's clear that it evolved beyond that. Personally, I don't ship Alastor with anyone, but when it comes to Rosie I headcanon they are in a QPR.

There are various reasons why this relationship is so great and wholesome, the first one being that there is no power imbalance, they are equals. Both are cannibalistic overlords and are on equal footing in terms of power. When Rosie first sees Alastor she is genuinely happy which is something new because most people react badly to him out of fear or hatred.

Alastor respects Rosie, he even compliments her, in her introduction he says she is "the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord of this side of the pentagram". Considering how self-centered and narcissistic he can be, it means a lot. Alastor would rather die again than compliment another Overlord who isn't Zestial, which he respects but out of fear. Alastor respects Rosie as his close friend. When they stand next to each other they give an air of equals, something that never happens thanks to Alastor's ego and sadism towering over everyone else. With Rosie it's different and Rosie can openly tease Alastor with the "Look at you, so polite! Alastor you can learn a thing or two" when comparing him to Charlie when meeting her, or "I'm just kidding, I know you're an ace in the hole" to tease him about his asexuality. This is something that not a lot of people can do because Alastor is obsessed with control and respect. After all, we see how badly he reacted when Husk insulted him.

He also harmonizes with her, he willingly makes a duet with her in "Ready for this". He isn't interrupting her, instead, he agrees with her and they sing together in unison. This is the first time he doesn't openly hijack a song or fight for control over it, like he did with Vox and Lucifer (although this also happened because this is Charlie's song, but who cares the point still stands). Also, this is the first time we see him dance with someone, instead of forcing them to join his musical number (like he does with Charlie on various occasions). Alastor and Rosie are in perfect sync and it's so wholesome and precious to see him being so openly happy with her. Many have pointed out that the only times Alastor is genuinely smiling is when he is with Rosie and it shows by his expression in his eyes.

Finally, Rosie is the only one capable of bringing the most human emotions out of him, the most obvious one being confusion. In the scene of "ace in the hole" Rosie manages to confuse and surprise Alastor for a solid second, which is a huge change of his persona around everyone else of control and manipulation. Also, it's hilarious that Alastor doesn't know what being aroace is, he probably thinks he is above all that.

He is openly relaxed around Rosie and lets her touch him in an affectionate way, something that not even Mimzy can do. It may be because of the height difference but Mimzy only touches Alastor to hug him and to emphasize he is a "heartless son of a bitch" and Alastor clearly gets irritated by her touching him that way and even moves her finger away from him. This never happens with Rosie and he even welcomes her touching him by not having any walls with her. It's Rosie the one starting the physical contact and Alastor doesn't seem to mind and he never tries to use physical contact to take advantage of her like he does with other characters. Rosie is one of the few people who can touch Alastor without losing an arm and instead have a positive reaction out of him.

The most genuine relationship Alastor has is with Rosie, he even has the confidence and comfort to stop his elegant and reserved persona of not swearing. Which he only does when he is truly angry, like what happened with Lucifer. Or when he is threatening someone like he did with Adam. Or when he is shocked when his microphone breaks. He swears to insult Susan, which is someone they both despise equally. Something that you would only do with your closest bestie.

Finally, let's talk about Alastor's breakdown in the last episode. We've already seen that Alastor is capable of having friendships that aren't based on an end goal. Alastor knows this but he rejects it because he is at the hotel originally for selfish goals and doesn't want his emotions to get in the way. He is terrified of ruining his reputation as a sadistic killer and becoming an altruistic who cares about his friends. Alastor wants to stop himself from starting to care about the crew the same way he cares about Rosie, Mimzy, or Nifty to some degree. This is confirmed by his conversation with Niffty, where he admits he has grown accustomed to the main crew and perhaps he is growing feelings of affection towards them in his own way.

In regards to shipping him with Rosie, I see it as a platonic ship or a QPR. Some people have a headcanon that if they had known each other when they were alive they would have married for tax benefits and to avoid the social stigma, which is the only right answer. When they first met in hell they probably had dates in cannibal town where they ate human flesh while gossiping and trash-talked about the other overlords. Which is exactly what an ace person like myself wants from a close friendship.

As an ace, I really like Alastor not because he is the ultimate Tumblr sexyman or see him as hot but because he is an extremely fun character that I can relate to. I'm grateful for the crew and VA that take into account he is aroace and take seriously that aspect of his character. I don't mind that the aroace representation in Hazbn Hotel is a narcissistic psychopath, if you want a more wholesome ace representation you can check Todd in Bojack Horseman or Saiki in The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

I don't mind people shipping Alastor, after all, it's just people having fun, but you can't ignore that he is aroace and how this affects his relationships. So yeah have fun and respect and aroace community :)

ok thanks for hearing my rant bye

[kysuguru]

dear mother — stsg x fem!reader

synopsis : you’ve finally enrolled into jujutsu tech, sad thing is, you’re totally clueless.

includes / cw : emotionally abusive mother

all mine masterlist

a /n : ch1 of my “all mine” series!!!

"i'm ogawa [name]. i'm from sendai japan. please take care of me."

you bow politely. smiling at the tiny class of three as you rise, posture nervous and stiff.

"if i knew there was someone new i would've thrown a welcome party!" a white haired boy who's eyes are protected by circular black glasses exclaims excitedly, a smile big on his lips. you admit you're a bit intimidated. the idea of a party for you seems a bit over the top, though.

a boy on his left scoffs almost affectionately, the soft look he sends to his counterpart familiar to you. you always looked at the street cats like that, your mother as well (you try not to think about it). he has a bang over his left eye, you wonder if someone has ever tried to tuck it behind his ear.

"there's no need for a party. my arrival can't be that exciting," you chuckle shyly.

they all analyze you. so you settle with looking at your shuffling shoes.

"she speaks so formally." the gojo boy leans over with a hand cupped around his mouth as he whispers to his best friend, causing you to look up. it's a bit silly that he's acting as if he's whispering a secret even though everyone can hear him.

his friend eyes you apologetically.

there's another girl, the only one who seems actually interested as she stares you down. you flinch as you catch her gaze. her hair is short, in a brown bob that frames her face perfectly. her bangs are tucked behind her ear and there's a mole you catch on her face that convinces you she's model worthy.

other than your mother you've never thought a woman was so pretty.

"so new girl, what's your cursed technique."

new girl.. but i swore i said my name. did i not?

ignoring the white haired boy's lack of manners was easy, since you weren't all that aware he was being rude.

"i actually... don't know."

all three students chorused at the same time.

"hah?"

scouted? me? when you heard such a thing, you were confused and honestly, really surprised. you weren't talented by any means. outside of studying you didn't have much going on. not only that, but your mother kept you in the house a lot. so to hear of someone from jujutsu tech finding you worthy enough to attend had you blinking, astonished.

you were aware of what jujutsu was, cursed techniques and all of that jazz, but your knowledge was still limited beyond that. your mom was adamant on you not attending for reasons she refused to tell. obviously you didn't push. you never liked seeing her with a temper.

the man who recommended you was named yaga masamichi. he'd taken note of the significant amount of cursed energy you possessed when passing by you on your way to school. your family weren't jujutsu sorcerers from what you were aware of — you honestly weren't even sure that there were jujutsu sorcerers or people like you until now. but you'd never put it past your mom to hide something like that from you.

she always kept jujutsu related talk under wraps, only giving you little information to quell your curiosity.

you didn't even know what your cursed technique was. or if you even had one. even though you tried to understand why she does what she does, it still felt very lonely — seeing such heinous creatures and having to pretend they didn't exist for your own safety.

if it weren't for the fact that you instinctively learned to control your cursed energy output, you could've been in serious danger.

and although it was painful to go through such things alone — not being able to confide in a single person — you understood why your mother did it. all she wanted to do was keep you safe.

and even if you followed all of her rules of no jujutsu to a T, you couldn't help the sensation of excitement and relief knowing that there were so many other people out there just like you. a school of them, even.

you wanted badly to be upset with your mother, the fact that she knew about all of this and kept it from you. but even the thought of being angry at her when all she wanted was to protect you had you pushing down those foolish feelings.

other than secretive, your mother was also very stubborn. a trait that you always admired until this very moment.

she argued that you didn't belong into a school that was practically a death trap for young teens. always listening to your mother like an obedient puppy, you looked down at the floor, preparing for the inevitable rejection, expression sad as you shuffled your shoes alongside your mothers that were planted firm on the ground — you resisted the urge to distance yourself from her.

your eyes drifted to the shoes that were yaga's hoping no one would question your silence (they never did).

your mother wasn't a bad person. never that. but sometimes you couldn't help but get upset at the decisions she made in your stead. you wouldn't say that she didn't consider you, but sometimes it kinda felt that way.

"i get where you're coming from. jujutsu tech is a dangerous place and i hate to bring such young talented kids into such risks. but you have to understand your daughters side," he gestured towards you, your mothers eyes dropping to your head that perked up before they glared back at yaga.

"how do you think she feels knowing she has the opportunity to branch out and gain knowledge about these abilities. do you think she wants to stay ignorant because you do?"

your ears rang as the last sentence was spoken.

"do you think she wants to stay ignorant because you do?"

it resonated with you in a way you couldn't comprehend. all you could do was clutch your chest as a foreign feeling of relief left your choked up throat in a bated breath. the exhale feeling as if you were being freed from something. being seen.

"[name], my sweet darling baby," she caressed the top of your head. it was instinct to lean into her touch, even though at the moment you couldn't sort out how you felt towards her.

she's protecting you. the words whisper in your ear, like a disease that is incurable, like a predator that sinks its fangs and refuses to let go.

"mommy wants you to stay home with her. please consider it. it's so dangerous out there, and i really don't want you to get hurt," she cooed. it made you feel sick and you hated not knowing why. even though her words were meant to console you, they only made you want to run.

your eyes were glued to the dirty mat that you and your mother refused to clean, maybe because it was the most familiar thing in this constant changing house. there were five pairs of shoes, you, yaga, and mother and two unworn pairs off to the side, both meant for other occasions, better ones. ones that don't include the ringing of your ears and the well of your tears as they collect on your lashes. maybe it's an occasion where you're at a nice dinner with your mom, a rare treat whenever she deemed herself in the mood.

the bigger pair of shoes shifted. yaga.

"miss ogawa. i don't mean to overstep, but have you considered you're babying your 15 year old child? maybe you need to consider that she can make her own-"

"don't you dare tell me how to parent my own damn child." her voice is dripping with venom, the venom that seeps through you and whispers in your ear.

i just want to protect you.

your mothers anger was never a calm one, it was loud and furious, voice bouncing off the walls as she tried restraining herself from getting violent. so hearing her talk to the man in such a familiar tone had you quivering in her hold.

your mother, never under the assumption that she could ever be the reason you were upset, deduced that your shivers were caused by yaga.

so she glares, long and hard, and her lips move to form the words you were dreading, "my daughter is not attending your shit school. get out of my house.”

...

other than the sound of life beyond the door, there only laid cold, anxious silence.

you were afraid to look up, your mother's shirt being your only anchor. but from the resigned sigh that left yaga's lips, you were well aware of the expression he was making — one of anger, and disappointment. realizing that seeking you out was a waste of his time.

or so you assumed.

for he could only look at you in pity, acknowledging how painful a relationship like this must be for you, and in longing, hoping foolishly that he could lend a helping hand.

a rough calloused hand entered your vision, a piece of ripped paper in the grip of his fingers.

yaga gestured it towards you patiently, a look of sorrow marring his usually calm expression. "if there's a change, please call this number."

your mom ripped it from his grasp right before you could touch it. she crumpled it in her hand. "there won't be a change. now get the fuck out of my house."

you could only stare in horror at your mothers fist that held the only thing that could possibly change the trajectory of your life. even as yaga bowed and turned around, even as the door slammed shut behind him. even as mother soothed you with quiet coos meant for a baby, even as she turned towards the kitchen to start on dinner, even as she sat you down and commented on your silence. even as she watched you absentmindedly pick on your food, even as she started to become agitated at your lack of response, and even as she treaded up the stairs to her bedroom. your eyes stayed glued to that one hand.

you blinked, eyes dry and mouth parched as you suddenly remembered that you weren't at the front door anymore while your mother cradled you in her arms.

your eyes drift to the front door, and you approach it slowly. you don't know why you stand there or why your hand touched the door knob.

maybe it's because you're hopeful that the man is behind this door. waiting patiently for you to open it, prepared with the words of acceptance. maybe something amongst it that helps you figure out what the hell to do.

"a school of them." you whispered, the only thing capable of leaving your dry mouth.

there was a school of them. proof that you really weren't alone in this cursed world. how could you possibly go back to the difficult life of acting as if everything was normal when it wasn't? blue auras were around everybody, and the grotesque creatures festered from the negative feelings surrounding those people. and there were those out there who knew how to get rid of those things for the sake of others.

knowing all of this, you couldn't stand by and not lend a hand, not learn to control the one thing that's burdened you your entire life. but..

you looked up the stairs, seeing just the top of your mothers door.

what would she do? she needed you. you both took care of each other, you couldn't leave her behind.

but you needed this. you wanted to figure all of this out. control theses abilities and hopefully get to know people who were just like you. and... you could always come back.

yeah.

who said you had to stay? you would go, go to jujutsu high, reach your goals, and return to your mother.

because even though you may make friends with those of similar backgrounds to you, your mother was a constant in your life, never changing. you couldn't abandon her. you wouldn't.

so with this new resolve in your heart, you snuck up to her room. she kept her door creaked for unknown reasons, maybe to keep an eye on you, but you ignored that and thanked its convenience for this very moment.

she was asleep. snoring.

you treaded carefully over to the bed, eyes focused on the bags growing under her lashes. the sight made your lips twitch into a small frown. you delicately tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. listening to her steady breathing as she dreamt the night away.

"wait for me, mother.”

you turned away and grabbed the piece of paper off of her nightstand, leaving the room with a sense of urgency.

you dialed yaga's number after locking your bedroom door, pacing around in circles as the phone rung. the ringing resonated in your ears like a ticking clock. you didn't really have time. if he wouldn't answer now you'd never get your chance.

your mom was an early bird and you could already feel yourself getting drowsy.

"i mean. who even calls this late. he might be asleep..." you whisper defeatedly and pull the phone away from your ear to hang up, but it lights up with his icon and you jump in excitement.

"miss. ogawa?"

"masamichi-san. it's [name]."

Dear mother,

I've departed, something I'm sure you noticed. As much as I wanted to obey you, I couldn't just abandon the opportunity that could help change my life for the better. I know you were trying to protect me, and I know that it's dangerous. But I can't live knowing that my life could be different. I can't just sit by and watch this spark of light dim, let my world go dark again. I'm not like you, mother. I will not stay ignorant. Wait for me, please.

I lov-

a loud shrewd rip echoes through the quiet house. your mother's eyes are dull, face empty as she starts furiously ripping the paper to shreds.

she suddenly screams out in anger, tears of frustration bubbling and blurring her vision. she grips her hair in agony as she starts chanting curses.

"dammit dammit, dammit!! i told her it was dangerous. i told her. damn her!! good for nothing daughter... not listening to a fucking word i say!!"

your mom stomps angrily out of her room, not caring for the small pieces of paper she tramples over.

"I love you,"

"mother."

[turtletaubwrites]

Sweet Abduction ~ Part 3 ~ End

I absolutely adored this request, and you can click here for Part 1 and Part 2. I was nervous about trying my hand at some smut with this lovely 16.5 ft (509 cm) tall man, but y'all overwhelmingly voted for a smutty ending, so I did my best. I hope you enjoy this sweet conclusion! 💜🍩

Pairings: Katakuri x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3781

Ao3 Link

Summary: You and your new husband get to know each other, and what makes the other feel good. Maybe this abduction was a miracle after all.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Grief, (reader's dad has passed and she thinks about him a lot), Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Spit, Comeplay, Size Kink, Human/Monster Romance, He's freaking 16 ft tall, Reader is too sweet for this world

A/N: I love these two so much, they deserve all the sweetness in the world! 🥰

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

Every slow, steady step of the man who carried you sent your heart beating faster.

Your husband held you against his massive chest, the moment you were waiting for fast approaching. Your lungs didn’t quite know what to do now that it was so close. 

“Do you have a map? I think I’ll get lost in here on my own.”

Katakuri’s soft chuckle felt so soothing through his warm skin.

“I’ll have one drawn up for you. There’s also some vehicles that you can use to traverse it quickly, and tomorrow the staff will return, so you can always ask for their assistance.”

“Staff,” you chirped, once again feeling out of place.

“Yes. I dismissed them for the evening so that we… I thought we should be alone on our wedding night.”

He couldn’t see your shy smile as you bit your lip, but you were sure he felt the bob of your head as you tapped it against his chest. 

“Here we are,” he announced, opening a door made for someone his size.

“How do I open the door?”

Katakuri apologized, clearing his throat as he set you down. You had never met anyone so calm and polite, and you had no idea why it should make your skin flush the way it does.

Beside the door he’d opened was one your size, and you bit the inside of your lip to hold in laughter. 

It’s like a pet door.

The image of your door, so tiny next to his, reminded you of those little doors for dogs and cats.

It didn’t seem right to make that sort of comment on your wedding night when you didn’t know how he’d react, so you bounced on your toes, trying to think of anything else.

He led you inside an immense suite that hardly seemed different than all the walkways and rooms you’d already passed. 

Except for a corner of the room that had been decorated as an extravagant bedroom for you, your furniture looking adorable amidst all the space. 

“Where’s your bed?”

Reaching to touch his knee as you surveyed the room, the only furniture you saw of his size was a desk and chair. 

“I never lay on my back.”

“Katakuri,” you hissed, poking his leg, “Please tell me we don’t have to keep up the lie in our own bedroom?” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, kneeling to see you closer, “the staff enter this room occasionally, and I can’t risk it.”

A pout formed on your face from the disappointment, but he only smiled, bringing his finger to his lips as if shushing you.

That finger stretched, and your eyes went wide as the tip of it formed into a key.

He stood against a blank wall and pressed a brick as if it were a button. The wall slid away to reveal a large door, which he unlocked with that mochi key, offering his hand to carry you inside. 

“This secret really is precious to you,” you giggled, listening to the wall slide back into place after he locked you in with him.

“It is.”

Your laughter halted as he set you down on the edge of the bed. 

“Don’t worry,” you promised, gripping the soft blankets as he sat on the floor in front of you. “You’re my family now. I’ll protect your secret.”

“I know,” he said, the trust in his deep voice making you smile.

The small smile on his wide lips brought that fluttery feeling back, and you dangled your feet off the side of the bed. The bed was only a little taller than you were, so hopping onto it yourself would be like jumping a fence.

Falling off of it in the dark would still hurt.

Meeting his crimson eyes, your skin flushed again as you realized how distracted your mind was. How nervous you were. How he sat so patiently, his silence always peaceful instead of awkward. 

“Y/N, we don’t ha–”

“Katakuri, can you–”

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat as you gave a small laugh, “you go first.”

Your voice came out high as you tried not to squirm. 

“Can you kiss me again?”

This time his silence held more than peace. His brows tensed just slightly, looking at you as if he didn’t understand. 

But he came to you. 

One of those strong, warm hands stroked your hair, pressing lightly against your back. As he moved in, you couldn’t believe how a man so sweet could have such sharp and dangerous teeth. 

I know he won’t hurt me. 

The thought made you sigh with contentment, and you pressed your lips against his larger ones, minding the tusk-like fangs on either side. 

“Wait,” you breathed against him before pulling yourself up to kneel on the bed.

Those eyes were even more gorgeous up close, and you smiled at him before tracing your fingers along his jaw. 

The way he’d reacted when you kissed his neck earlier made you want to kiss him more, so you did.

His hand on your back tensed when you laid your lips along his scars, but you whispered ‘wait,’ and he let you keep going. Keep touching and kissing his beautiful face until you heard, and felt, a satisfied hum move through him. 

“This feels good?”

“It does. What feels good for you?”

Shyness hit you again, and you bought time by taking off your shoes and tossing them as far as you could, bringing what seemed to be another rare smile to those wide lips. 

You hoped that smile wouldn’t be rare with you.

“I like when you touch me,” you started, fighting to keep eye contact as the hand at your back moved softly against your hair and shoulders. “I like when you hold me. I like feeling you.”

“Will you tell me if you don’t like something, or want to stop?”

“Of course,” you agreed, grabbing his wrist, “will you keep telling me what you like?”

“Let’s agree to do both,” he said, both of you nodding as he pulled his hand away. 

“If you’re comfortable, Y/N,” he started, his deep eyes pouring over you, “I would love to see you. All of you.”

“Oh.”

Blood rushed to your face, your cheeks, the tips of your ears, but you climbed away from the edge to stand on the bed. 

After a moment of struggle, you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can take it off myself,” you gasped with laughter, turning to show him the complicated lacing that a team of servants had done up for you.

“May I help,” he chuckled softly, bringing his fingers to your wedding dress when you agreed.

Just those fingers running along your spine, pulling and tugging at your dress, was enough, bringing more delightful chills across your skin.

“Hmm…”

“What,” you asked, voice breathy.

“Would you be opposed to me tearing the lacing open? I don’t believe I can untie this without harming you or the dress.”

“I don’t mind! I didn’t even pick it out,” you laughed.

“I’m sorry–”

“Oh, don’t be sorry, Katakuri. I’m happy we’re here together now,” you turned to smile at his guilt ridden face. “Please get this thing off of me, husband.”

Seeing guilt replaced with satisfaction at your words made you want to keep doing that. Keep making your sweet, frightening partner look happy. 

“Will you trust me?”

You agreed, then followed as he guided you into his hand, leaning over to bare your back to him.

“Please stay still, Y/N.”

A breath held in your body as he brought you close to his face. He never touched your skin, but you felt the laces snap and loosen, and knew he’d cut them with his teeth. 

So sharp. 

He set you on your feet, and you held your dress up as the back fell. Katakuri opened and closed his mouth, and you realized that you could both talk awkwardly through the whole night if one of you didn’t push through.

You let that heavy, decadent fabric fall down your skin, giggling a little as you had to shimmy it down your hips. You hopped out of the circle of fabric, and tried not to cover yourself with your as you stood in lingerie. 

What do I do with my hands?

Katakuri’s eyes were so intense, as if you could feel them on you. Instead of squirming, you surprised yourself, stripping the lingerie until nothing but skin remained.

He took a deep breath, and sighed, tilting his head toward you.

“You are gorgeous, Y/N. I thought so the moment we met.”

“Same to you,” you teased, deciding to sit back down to fight off the urge to hide.

He removed his white boots and vest while you watched. You bit your lip not to laugh at how cute it was that he’d kept his frightening spikes and buckles, and just made everything white. Sitting in front of you again, his smile seemed stronger, as if he was starting to believe it was alright to show it. 

“I would like to make you feel good. Can I try?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, hands shaking with nerves as Katakuri bunched up the blanket behind you like a pillow. He leaned over you, that soft press of lips against yours before he hovered over your chest, eyes darker now. 

“Please tell me if this is alright,” he checked in, humming quietly as you nodded.

The touch of his breath on your skin was already amazing, breathing over your chest, your stomach, your legs. His hands brought a gasp to your throat, arching your back as he traced fingers all over you, until your skin was tingling.

“That feels so good.”

Your praise was like an invitation, and soon those large fingers were massaging your breasts. He was so so gentle as he teased your nipples, and you heard his soft intake of breath when you cried out. 

Those fingers trailed down to your thighs, spreading them softly.

“Is it al–”

“Please touch me, Katakuri,” you begged, spreading your legs further for him.

All the deep, pleased noises he had let out as you reacted to him made your eyes roll back, and the feather light touch of one of his fingers through your folds was almost overwhelming.

“Y/N…”

His pause brought your eyes to him, and you felt your body clench with need as you watched him lick the taste of you off his finger.

“You’re so wet, so sweet... Is this all for me,” he asked softly, bringing his finger back to slide along all that wetness, finding your clit to circle gently.

His words hit you like a tease, but somehow you knew he was genuinely asking.

“Yes, Katakuri,” you managed to confess while his finger made you twitch. “You make me feel so good. I want you.”

His mouth parted as he watched you writhe for him. You fought to keep your eyes on his, wanting him to see it, to believe it. 

His jaw loosened just a bit, his eyes growing even darker as he circled that finger around your entrance. 

That finger was at least the width of two of a man your size, and it was so long. He tested you, pressing in softly, smiling at your nod before plunging it inside of you. 

Slowly thrusting, he brought his other hand to your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

“I can’t believe how lucky–”

He cut himself off with a groan as you turned your head to take that large thumb into your mouth. You sucked and bit at him, swirling your tongue around his thumb as you watched those hungry eyes. 

He curled the finger inside you, hitting that sweet spot until you were moaning around his thumb.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped as he drew that thumb out of your mouth, trailing spit down your chin. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Katakuri kept his promise, bringing that spit covered thumb to your clit. Already so close, you moaned as he teased another finger, testing, pressing gently until you nodded, now plunging two of those large fingers in to stretch you. 

“Please, please, please.” 

“Are you okay–”

“Yes, please please,” you panted as his fingers started working in you.

“Mm, does my lovely girl want to come? Do it for me, sweetheart. Come for me.”

“Katakuri!”

Your hands fisted into the blanket, back arching as you moaned, screamed for him. For your sweet, scary husband whose fingers stretched and fucked you, curling up again and again, his large thumb rubbing perfectly over and around your clit.

It felt like an explosion, your mind going blank for everything except for raging pleasure, your body thrashing on that huge bed. 

When your awareness came back, you were still twitching from aftershocks as he chuckled, smoothing those hands along your skin again.

“Kata… kuri… that felt amazing.”

“I’m so glad,” he sighed, tracing fingers through your hair. “Do you need anything?”

He helped as you struggled to sit up, your breathing still ragged as you grinned up at him. 

“I want to make you feel good, please.”

“I…”

“Can I try?”

His own breath was heavy after what he’d done to you, and that made you want to give him more. 

You chewed on your lip as he stood, removing those white pants with all their buckles and straps. 

“It’s okay, we don–”

Katakuri started to turn away when he saw your jaw drop, but you coughed, your voice coming out high and breathy.

“Will you lie down with me?”

He climbed into bed, propping up on a pile of pillows the size of couch cushions. 

“Tell me if this is alright,” you whispered as you crawled onto his chest.

Smiling at his nod, you laid against him to kiss his neck as you’d done earlier, enjoying the rush of the chills that ran over his skin. 

“I like that,” he rasped, sighing as you left a trail of kisses along the crook of his neck. You teased a small bite, waiting for his response after he twitched slightly. 

“I like that too, Y/N.”

Feeling his body react to your touch like this was delicious, growing that heat in your core, that desire for him. 

Nibbling his earlobe was a dangerous task, but worth it, as this massive warrior squirmed under your touch. 

“N-No more,” he pleaded, gently moving you away from his ear to sit on his chest.

“Did it feel good?”

“It did,” he admitted after a pause.

You answered by laying kisses and soft touches down his chest. 

He must not get a lot of touch in his lonely life, you thought as you enjoyed his reactions. 

I’m going to change that.

You worshiped his gorgeous body as he’d worshiped yours. Kissing and nibbling down his skin, you traced his muscles and tattoos with your fingers while his breathing and gentle moans were like the sweetest of songs. 

Until you worked your way down, and sat beside the gorgeous, throbbing length of him. 

The fact that he was larger than anyone you’d ever seen wasn’t a surprise. The girth alone was intense, but even though his length was intimidating, you tilted your head at it. 

Maybe it’s possible?

You realized you’d been thinking about it almost scientifically, and looked up at his face, a hint of concern on it. 

“Y/N, I don’t need or expect that, there are ple–”

“I won’t lie, Katakuri, you are very intimidating,” you teased, regretting the choice of words immediately as his face started to fall. You gripped onto his hip to bring his eyes back to you.

“But I would love to try that with you. I think we might be able to. Just maybe not tonight.”

“No,” he agreed, his face soft again as he stroked your hair. “I don’t want to hurt you. I only want you to feel good tonight.

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far,” you laughed, poking his side. 

“So are you, little wife.”

The heat in his voice, along with those words, made your skin flush all over again, somehow feeling shy after everything you’d already done.

“I like when you make this face,” he chuckled, touching your cheek. 

“Stop,” you squirmed, hiding behind your hands. 

“Please, don’t hide that pretty face from me.”

His deep voice vibrated through his body, so you could feel his request through your legs as you sat on him, making you shiver more. But you listened, looking up at your gorgeous husband. 

“Perfect,” he whispered, tracing from your temple to your jaw as your lips parted. 

“Can I,” you choked out, clearing your throat before trying again, “can I make you feel good now?”

Seeing those scarred lips curve around those sharp teeth would probably scare most, but you already loved seeing it. It sent warmth right through you before you brought your attention to that needy length of his. 

He had softened a bit as you talked, but you could see the drip of precum that had trailed down, rolling along thick veins that made you bite your lip. 

It twitched before you touched it, already getting hard as his sharp eyes watched your every move. 

Your fingers reached out to tease, just as you’d done across his body, tracing from the base to the tip, eliciting a little twitch from the crimson haired man beneath you.

Trying not to laugh, you realized you might get bucked off if Katakuri twitched too hard. 

Pushing your thoughts away, you focused on the thick flesh in front of you, and the hungry eyes devouring you. 

You had to taste him. Had to. 

With your tongue flattened against him, you licked along those gorgeous veins, licked up that trail of precum, flicking your tongue across the slit of his tip, before kissing it, tongue swirling as you met his eyes again. 

His wide mouth was open, sharp teeth parted as he breathed heavily, and you saw his large hands fisted in his sheets. 

“Does that fee–”

“Don’t stop,” he begged, his voice strained as you’d pulled your mouth away. “Fuck, Y/N, please don’t stop.”

You answered with your tongue, licking and teasing around him, bringing your hands to his throbbing cock that tasted soo good. 

One hand couldn’t fit around his girth, so you used both to slowly stroke up and down while you wrapped your lips around his tip. 

His head tilted back as he moaned, your new favorite sound.

“Just like that, so good…”

Spit dripped down his length as you gave him as much as you could. The feel of him, the sounds he made, it had your own body twisting, clenching with need. You found yourself moaning and rocking your body back and forth as you touched him. 

“Y/N, is that… Are you dripping on me?”

His husky voice made you pause, until his fingers slid between your thighs. 

“Fuuckk,” he cried out as you moaned, his fingers coming away dripping with slick. 

“You like my cock– fuck… this much, honey?”

“Yes, Katakuri,” you whined, your body feeling desperate as you kept stroking him.

“You’re doing so well, little wife. Grind that sweet pussy right here for me,” he gestured, bringing his fist up beside you. 

With shaky limbs, you sat on the back of his hand, finding the perfect friction for you to grind on while you went back to your task. 

The relief made you moan around him, and you opened wider to take as much of his thick cock into your mouth as you could handle. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Sweet mouth feels so good.”

Every delicious word of praise that dripped from those lips was like fuel to the fire in your blood. You rocked against his hand, drenching his skin as your clit got that perfect pressure.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt that thick cock starting to twitch. 

“Wait,” he choked out, his free hand moving to pull himself out of your mouth. 

But you whined, clinging to his cock as you hit your orgasm, grinding on his skin as he started to moan your name. 

The feeling of those veins throbbing and pulsing was incredible. He came spilling into your mouth as your lips were wrapped around his tip. You tried to swallow it all, but it was so much. 

You let it spill down the sides, using it to slide your hands along him a few more times as he let out deep, glorious moans. 

Out of breath, both of you twitched and gasped until you could speak again. 

“You made a mess,” you teased, gesturing to his come as it dripped from your chin to your stomach. 

He let out a surprised laugh, and you gasped as he pulled his hand out from under you. 

“So did you,” he rasped, making your eyes roll back as he licked your wetness off of the back of his hand. 

“How do you feel?”

His gentle words seemed so much more open, less full of worry, and you loved it. 

“I feel amazing, husband.”

“Mm, so do I, little wife.”

You scrunched your nose at the pet name, feeling like you should argue. But you liked it. 

I like him. 

You smiled to yourself as you watched him leave, going to clean up. 

“What’s wrong,” he asked as he returned, that worry back in his voice as he handed you a damp towel. 

“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry!”

Tears had pooled in the corners of your eyes, and you wiped them away with a laugh.

“I’m just happy, Katakuri. It’s crazy how this all happened. But I’m really happy to be here with you now.”

This sweet man’s face softened, making you believe your own words even more. You cleaned yourself off, and let him lift you up as he crawled into bed. 

Katakuri laid on his back for you. He let you lie on his chest, the deep rhythm of his heart pulsing through you, sending your relaxed body to sleep. 

But not before his gentle fingers stroked your hair, trailing down your back as you melted, the memory of your dad’s voice coming to wish you goodnight.

‘Don’t fight miracles, sweetheart. Sometimes good people really do get good things.’

You were right, dad. I won’t be alone anymore.

Katakuri’s deep voice rolled over you, proving it.

“I’m happy too, Y/N. I’m happy you’re my family now.”

You drifted off with his warm skin on yours, and had the sweetest dreams you’d ever had. 

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for joining me on this super fluffy adventure! It's definitely the sweetest thing I've ever written, and I hope you you enjoyed it! 🍩💖

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Cold Comforts (Beetlejuice Drabble)

Betelgeuse x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You have a headache and Beej does his best to offer you some comfort.

Fic type: comfort, fluff

EVERYTHING: @winchxters @calliopesdiary @xxxsugarcyanidexxx

BEETLEJUICE: @im-eating-rn @little-missscare-all @onyxvogel-official (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"There y'are, babe, where've y'been, huh?" Beej's voice travelled loudly through your apartment as you closed the door and rested your forehead against its cold surface.

You didn't offer a verbal response, just let your bag slouch to the floor with a loud thud as you ambled towards the living room where you knew he'd be. Where else would he be other than camped out watching old sitcom reruns.

Catching sight of his splitting grin and satin-striped pyjamas, you let out a very long sigh of relief before collapsing into his lap like a sad, wet cat.

Beej seemed confused about this, and his hand hesitated, hovering above your back before he finally dropped it to rub you comfortingly.

"C'mon, babe," he said, tone as soft as he was capable of making it. "Talk t'me. What's wrong, huh?"

You grumbled in response, muttering something about the beginnings of a migraine and something about work. BJ tutted and snapped his fingers, ensuring the lights turned off and the volume on the television dropped to barely audible. You winced at the loud click of his fingers, and he grunted as an apology.

A second, much quieter snap of his fingers sounded and there was a soft pop of energy to your right. You take a peek and find a duplicate Betelgeuse standing there in an all-white suit and black bowtie, domed platter in his outstretched hand.

“Refreshment to go with your dinner, babe?” The duplicate asks, scrunching his smile a little and giving you a very standard Beej wink as he whips the metallic dome from the platter to reveal an ice-cold glass of water. “Aw c’mon, don’t leave a guy hangin’- whaddaya want, huh? Lobster? Sirloin steak? Horse rib? Last time I had horse was the Plague.”

Offering a tense smile, you shook your head and politely declined.

"Mm," he grunted. "No-go there, huh? Whaddaya need, sweet cheeks?"

You sighed discontentedly and buried your forehead against his cool chest. Perks of being dead- he was always the right temperature to cool you down when you needed it. He eventually warmed up with the contact against your skin, but it was nice while it lasted. Though less so in Winter.

"Needy little thing, huh? Nuh-uh, no moving. Dead Man's orders," he tuts, pressing your head back to his chest when you try to raise it. "Be good for me 'n stay there. There y'go."

It was a good thing Beej had old MASH re-runs to entertain himself with- as it wasn't long before you were curled up, fast asleep with his fingers in your hair. And he had no plans to wake you any time soon, either.

[pearlywritings]

Courted by a... Hero?

synopsis: Diluc has feelings for you, but is under the impression that you do not reciprocate - his courting attempts show as much. But he comes to find out, that you are at ease around his alter ago... 

It won’t hurt to try and court you as the Darknight Hero. Right?

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: fluff, pining, courting, seemingly unreciprocated feelings, Darknight Hero!Diluc

word count: 3k words

a/n: this was suggested by a lovely anon~

Diluc Ragnvindr is enamored with you.

Diluc Ragnvindr thinks he is not that subtle about his affections. But it seems that he actually is, because otherwise the Master of the Dawn Winery does not understand how you manage to miss all the clues, all the longing gazes, all the small compliments and acts he does for you in attempts to hint that he'd like to court you.

Аpparently the longing in his eyes is lost in his regular stoic and a bit mournful expression, small compliments are so polite that it's not hard to mistake them for his gentlemanly antics, and his other actions are just a thread away from acts of service and help, which, given his сhivalry nature, do not stand out too.

Diluc doesn't get many opportunities to see you, since you do not visit the tavern often, but he tries so hard to make the meetings more numerous. An invitation to play cards at the Cat's Tail here and there, an insistence to walk you home, an offer to accompany you through the market as you go grocery shopping, always coming with an excuse of checking on the goods to tell Elzer later what purchases they should change for the Winery and its workers. Adelinde always smiles at him knowingly whenever some new dishes are added to his menu.

He is trying to show his affections to you, he really does, but he is too dense for that to come out exactly as he pictured it in his head. However, when you smile at him softly, accepting his offers, when you vent a little to him about a stupid coworker, when you stop at the Good Hunter to have supper with him - he thinks that the long process is worth it.

It's a great surprise, but the first time he gets an opportunity to hold you close is not a part of you dating him. No, your relationship is far from that, and his persona is hidden under the mask and a hooded cape, as he carries you bridal style. He is well aware of you staring up at him, but he can't make himself lower his gaze and meet with yours. He is just bringing you to a safe place after you twisted your ankle on a late evening run to catch a cat for your neighbor - a sweet old woman, whose pet seems to love escaping on an almost daily basis.

It's so hard to believe that he managed to be in the right place, at the right time, yet he chides himself for not arriving earlier - he could've caught you, preventing you from injuring yourself and falling. 

But it is such a quiet night… Maybe that's why he heard your painful yelp from two blocks away, rushing to help whoever got themselves in danger, and finding you sitting on the pavement and rubbing your leg.

"So… Mister Darknight Hero," he nearly groans at the name people gave him. He is intrigued by your lack of fear though, or at least worry, about some stranger picking you up and carrying you somewhere. The relaxed ring of arms wrapped around his neck only further proves it.

"Yes?" Diluc makes his voice gruff and low, still avoiding eye contact.

"Where are you taking me?" You sound curious, and the redhead can't help, but feel a bit aggravated - shouldn't you be concerned? Of course he is not taking you home - it'd be both creepy if a stranger knew your address and stupid, since your leg needs proper examination and treatment. Though still, you are so willingly accepting the masked man's help and entrust your fate in his arms fully, that it makes sarcasm evident in his words.

"On a late night date," he huffs with a slight roll of his eyes, letting his boldness out - something he can't allow himself to do often in the broad daylight as Diluc Ragnvindr.

"Oh really?" There is a hint of amusement in your tone, like you are enjoying his admission. "We've just met and you are bringing me on a date already? My, aren't you a forward man, Mister Hero. And where is this amazing place that's open so late? The tavern?"

"The hospital," Diluc does not realize it, but his cheeks are tinted pink, even if his voice remains inexpressive. However, he easily notices how relaxed you are in his hold, in his presence - even shooting teasing comments back at him and calling a date, well, a date. That's like more progress than he's had in the past month trying to court you.

Can it be… that he must change his approach? You, of course, can be attracted to completely different qualities in a man, and he should've taken it into consideration. Maybe this whole time he's been doing everything wrong.

Yet it’s too early to jump to conclusions, even if the winery owner slowly but surely grows desperate. To avoid false assumptions he decides to give it a proper thought tomorrow, after he visits you to check on your condition, bare of his alter ego.

As the morning comes and the sun gets brighter, Diluc is patiently waiting for the afternoon to see you. Half a day is enough for him to ‘receive the news’ about your condition however, but those several hours are excruciating. Are you well? Does your ankle hurt? Are you hungry? Maybe he should bring you food from Good Hunter… Are you thinking of him? Or…of tonight?

These thoughts are eating at his consciousness and when the midday eventually comes, the poor man looks exhausted. Lisa, whom he bumps into near the Alchemy stand, comments on it accordingly. Oh, but how fortunate it is, that she is the one to tell him about the events of last night and your current whereabouts.

“She looked ecstatic though,” the woman smiles, hands crossed and an intricate bell chiming on the tip of her large hat as she walks beside Diluc. “You should’ve seen that look on her face when she was telling me about the hero who saved her… Oh, but you will, won’t you? I am guessing you are going to pay her a visit.”

“You are correct,” the redhead nods, eyes trained on the today’s menu of the restaurant, as they get closer. “Right after I buy her some lunch.”

“A bouquet too, perhaps,” the smile turns teasing, emerald eyes glinting with knowledge. “I wonder when…” she pauses, but then decides against speaking what’s on her mind, shaking her head. “No matter. Good luck, Diluc.”

Luck? It’s such an abstract thing, something the wine tycoon doesn’t want in his life. If he needs something - he’d forge it with his own two hands, the ones that are currently occupied with a steaming meal and fresh flowers as he steps inside your chamber.

You are so lovely. Crimson eyes take in your resting form, basking in the sunlight from an open window. Warm rays kiss your cheeks and nose, falling right on the pages of a book he is sure Lisa has brought you. Tranquility suits you like the best of dresses and for a moment he gets lost in a scene before him, honored to be a part of it. 

That is until you lift your gaze and look at him and this time it’s your smile that makes the noble man go weak.

“Diluc! Hi,” your voice is so soft, bursting with excitement, which is also evident in how quickly you shut your book and put it away. This is a signal for the redhead to finally move closer and he eagerly takes this chance.

“I heard about what happened to you,” he offers you flowers and you gasp - a beautiful sound that touches the deepest strings of his soul. “I wanted to make you feel better. Also, I brought lunch.”

“Diluc…” There is appreciation in your tone, one, that strokes his ego. “You really didn’t have to, but I won’t decline the offer. Not to offend anyone,” you lower your voice, “but the food here is terrible.”

And he laughs. That’s a deep marvelous sound, that comes all the way from the confines of his chest, reserved for you only. Your giggles compliment it so perfectly, and when you hide behind the flowers, with only your eyes on display, shining and crinkling from joy - he falls in love even harder.

It almost feels like a date his nightly persona promised to take you on - flowers, delicious meal, his undivided attention… And even though it is not all that different from all the other times you spent together, this one feels far more special.

“So… You say you were saved by the Darknight Hero?” This question has been dancing on the tip of his tongue long before you even started to retell him the story of tonight. You nod vigorously, chewing on the most delicious chicken you’ve ever had.

“Mhm. And Archons, when I say this man is bold, he is bold.”

Your tone and the way your eyes just glinted… Can he assume you love such a character more? Should he…pursue you under the disguise of your savior?

He sure can try.

And try he does. Every night you would receive a masked visitor in your window. Every day Diluc would also come, to bring you fresh flowers, glorious meals and with hopes to know what you think of his other occupation. The Darknight Hero turned out to be charming. Diluc Ragnvindr is charming too, but it’s a different kind of charming - secure, understanding, reliable, loyal. While his alter-ego is mysterious, brooding, flirting and bold.

You seem to enjoy the latter. Why else would you wait for him, refusing to sleep, knowing that the Darknight Hero would come? Why would your eyes remain soft when gazing at an already not a stranger, yet not an acquaintance still? Why would you entertain his jokes and ask to tell you about what he does for Mondstadt? Watching him perch on the windowsill, chin resting on your fisted hands and purest interest written all over your face...

He was so right to ask the staff to move you to a different room with a bed close to the window. Doesn't matter he had to climb to the third floor, it's all in the name of love, however cheezy it sounds.

Only one question remains - how should he bring up the courting? Every normal woman would freak out if a man she barely knows (come on, even his face and voice are veiled) asked her out. Soon you'll be discharged, and climbing into your apartment's window is inappropriate too. The night strolls? No, he can't rob you of more sleep than he already selfishly does. But what should he do…

You seem to like it though, so there is absolutely no reason to complain.

You notice his silence. Curiosity replaces all other senses, just as it has been for all these nights you’ve spent with the man, and you cock your head to the left shoulder, observing, trying to guess what's behind the wall of his mind.

"What got you thinking so hard, Mr Hero?" At least you dropped using the whole title, which he is forever grateful for. "You look like someone who's trying to solve an extremely difficult case. Mind sharing? Maybe I can help."

Archons, you are so-so precious… and not completely wrong. He supposes, that since you’ve already started this conversation… He might just give it a shot. After all he is an entirely different man for you now, right? The straightforward one too.

Yet why is his heart thumping so wildly in his chest?

“I was… am wondering, if such a gorgeous woman, sitting in front of me right now, would let me court her.”

That’s it. The words are out, no turning back here. It feels surreal, true, but the male reassures himself that at least one issue is going to be out of his way, and whatever decision you’d make - he’d take it. Even if you angrily chase him out of the chamber.

However, it’s so hard to look you in the eyes - those pretty eyes that are filled with warmth and admiration, two things that are easy to turn into a freezing cold and disgust.

“You? As in the Darknight Hero?”

Here it is. Here is the implication that might as well as mean that whatever you two built during the few nighttime meetings is now ruined by a simple half-flirtatious suggestion.

All he can do is nod.

“I am sorry, Sir,” oh, the everlasting softness of your voice... Is that really how one delivers the rejection? “But there is already someone in my heart. I hope you will understand.”

Of course he does, no matter how painful it is. A delicate soul and a loving heart of yours can’t stay unoccupied, it would’ve been stupid to think so. Doesn’t matter the notion pierces his heart - he mustn’t take it close to it while wearing a mask.

“I apologize,” is all he can mutter, the voice suddenly slipping its usual gruffness, but no attention is spared to it.

“No need,” he is aware of the groan of the mattress as you shift, pulling your legs over the edge of the bed, and fully facing him now. “I am actually grateful for you being here to hear that. It’s been hard to keep it all in,“ this he understands even more. “Can I ask for a small favor?”

“Sure,” it’s the least he can do for making you uncomfortable.

“Can I whisper his name to you?”

The night is magical. There is no other explanation than its luring spell for why the man who’s just gotten rejected is sliding off the windowsill and moving closer to you to grant you your request. It’s also possible that your curiosity is contagious, but, Diluc does not dwell on it, he knows that the Darknight Hero wouldn’t.

Just as he doesn’t have time to react. A startled gasp is stuck in his throat, a hand shoots up, but it’s too late. Thick crimson bangs are spilling from under the pulled hood and ruby eyes widen in fright when the mask is pulled off of his face. He freezes in his bending position, staring at you in disbelief, fingers curled in a grasp not so far from his face. The face you know all too well. 

“Knew it,” you look content, twirling the beaked accessory between your fingers. Your smile is serene, and the image of a beautiful tranquility once again makes his heart skip a beat. What’s going on? Is this even real? Is there an option to let the ground swallow him whole? What do you mean ‘you knew’? Is it a good thing? Is it a bad thing? Is he screwed?

Archons, is your relationship screwed?

“Diluc,” it's his own name that shakes him back to reality. The blush creeps up his cheeks, mixing the blazing hues of embarrassment and shame.

“Yes..?”

You cock your head again, the smile getting wider.

“I promised the name of whom my heart belongs to, no? It’s Diluc. Diluc Ragnvindr. You.”

He swears he will faint right here and now. It must be a dream, it must be!

“You are thinking it’s a dream, aren’t you?” With a sigh you abandon the mask on the duvet, reaching out for his gloved hand, carefully tracing the back of it with the tips of your fingers. “Well, it’s not. And I am serious.”

“But-” He clears his throat, cursing the weakness in his knees at the barest of your touch. His mind is rushing, he can’t make logical conclusions, he can barely think with everything suddenly crashing and crumbling around him. So his heart takes over, bringing up his most sacred concern. “But I thought you were not interested in me.”

“Of course I am!” He flinches when the offense slips into your tone. “Of course I am, it’s just… you never asked me about dating. And I falsely assumed you are satisfied with what we already have.”

And he was. For the longest time, until it became obvious that he is not.

“When you saved me that evening I knew it was you. There is no mistake in the comforting warmth your body exudes, nor in the way you generally carry yourself. Also those strong hands… Can you name that many claymore users?”

You’ve known all this time?

“Forgive me for being selfish,” you chuckle sheepishly, unconsciously fiddling with his fingers, and Diluc finds it both cute and reassuring, calming even. “I kept you both during the day and at night for myself. I just wanted to know this side of you better. To know you better. And when you asked me under the disguise of the Darknight Hero… I just knew I wanted to hear that from the Diluc Ragnvindr.”

“In that case,” he lowers on his knee, clasping your hands in his and lying to himself that it’s not from how his body collapses with relief, clinging to you as if you’ll turn out to be just a piece of his desperate imagination, “I am selfish too. Because I was coming to you day and night with the exact same thoughts.”

“Does it make us a couple of selfish idiots, who clearly lack communication skills?” You giggle, and, Archons, what a splendid sound.

“I guess it does. Though I’d like the ‘couple’ part to become more real," giving your palms a squeeze, Diluc takes a deep breath, and with a new-found confidence makes his intentions clear. "Y/n L/n, will you go out with me?”

“Yes!”

The redhead cannot keep in his own laughter when you tug on his hands to draw him closer, to throw your arms around his broad shoulders and bury you face in his hair, smiling ear to ear. Gingerly he places his own palms on the small of your back, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder, and releasing a shaky breath.

Together. You are officially together.

And he is going to take his time with you.

taglist: @axerrri

[itsphoenix0724]

All Things Vile (Eris x Reader)

Summary: A recon mission to the Autumn Court gets more heated than you intended. They say Autumn males fuck like they have fire in their veins-you guess you're about to find out.

Warnings: ROUGH SMUT (this is pure filth and I'm not sorry), kind of dark, oral (m!receiving) choking, bondage

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for him, been a while since I wrote in general since I'm adjusting back into my school life. Chapter 3 of MMOTI is drafted and will hopefully be released soon! But anyway here's a smutty Eris fic for all of you <3

The Autumn Court was ablaze in moonlit revelry. The scent of spiced cider and ale consumed the grove along with the smell of the blazing campfire. Fog weaved in and out of the shadow-drenched woods, urging the partygoers to follow its trail into the darkness. You could make out bodies against trees, males and females losing themselves in one another, as you jumped silently along the oak’s branches. It was a simple mission; Get in and get out, that’s what Rhys had said, and that’s what you fully intended on doing. Cloaked in darkness, mask pulled up to hide everything but your eyes, you found your target. 

A drunken blush stained his pale cheeks, and the blood-red silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned so obscenely low you could see the dappling of freckles along his chest in the firelight. His auburn hair was unruly; the waves held down only by the circlet of gold leaves that marked him as the firstborn son of Autumn. His lips were stained from the wine he was sipping and his eyes had taken on a seductive half-lid as he somehow fixed his burning gaze straight onto you. 

Fuck, Rhys was going to kill you. 

Eris stood from his chair in one smooth motion, prowling towards your spot hidden in the woods like a mountain cat, amber eyes burning. You jump down from your tree, weaving through the branches like smoke to try to lose the lordling who’s hot on your tail. Nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the sounds of footfalls echo through the dark wood. You just need to get to the border, Eris won’t have the gall to cross after you. You can see the green grass of Spring, the pastel pink of the cherry blossoms grotesquely clashing with the russet hues of the forest that currently surrounds you.

You can almost smell the sickly sweet air when a hand encircles your wrist like a hot brand.

The world tips and falls, the grass slipping out from under your feet as you’re dropped into a room, landing on all fours against a hardwood floor. Bands of fire wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the ground, not burning but holding you there. The tell-tale wave of nausea that means you’ve been winnowed somewhere quickly overwhelms you as you try not to heave onto the plush burgundy rug infront of you.

Eris has taken you to his room at Fir Hall, his private estate away from his life wrapped in court politics, you’re familiar with the home after many spy missions here. Your eyes fix on the Autumn Prince with a burning ferocity, and he does nothing but glare back down at you from where he looms above you.

“Well, well what has fallen into my trap,” He fixes you with a wolfish smile as he pulls down your mask, and your lips peel back into a snarl. “Hello Sweetheart,” he purrs as he tucks a loose hair behind your ears. “I’ve missed you, it’s very nice to see you again.” He tries to run a thumb over your bottom lip, but you snap your teeth in his direction like a feral animal and he wisely pulls his hand away. 

“Bite me,” you growl out as Eris crouches down until he’s at eye level with you. A hound cornering a wild fox, it seemed the hunter had won tonight as he lets out a laugh that leaves a burning caress down your spine. 

“Oh, I intend to.” He promises, stroking his hand along the back of your hair, pulling out the hair tie, and letting it fall around your face. “Now will you mind your manners?” He raises a copper brow, eyes dancing with amusement. The bond buried deep in your chest tries to wiggle free of its restraints, begging you to let it play with the other half of your soul. 

“Never,” you vow to him even as the mischief in his eyes turns to longing. This is torture denying yourself of him. 

But how could you not? 

Beron is still High Lord, if you were to tie yourself to him you would have to abide by his rules. You would rather claw your own eyes out. And if your family ever found out, if Mor ever found out, the shame and guilt would burn more than the roaring fire in the hearth. 

So you have this, you take every mission you can to Autumn and collect all the broken pieces and scraps that you can get. This is what you will allow yourself.

“I thought that would be the case,” Eris gets up and languidly strolls away from you, plucking the bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. You watch with adept interest as his ring-clad fingers tighten around the crystalline glass, he strolls over to his bookshelf and plucks a well-loved novel off the dark shelf. 

Then the bastard settles himself into one of the plush armchairs and starts to fucking read. He ignores you as though you’re nothing more than a potted plant in the corner, he doesn’t even so much as glance at you, fully enraptured in his novel. A few minutes pass when you clear your throat. Eris deigns to look bored as he lazily turns his head toward you. 

“Yes?” He asks, propping the book against one knee and taking another sip of his whiskey. Your eyes track the movement of his throat involuntarily. 

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You push, urging him with your eyes as you lift your head through the curtain of your hair. You hope your gaze communicates everything you cannot bring yourself to voice, fearing your body will refuse to allow you air if you try. 

I love you, please don’t ignore me, I need you, play with me

He chuckles a dark sound and picks up his book again, pointedly flicking a page as the rubies on his hands glint in the firelight. 

“I’m not in the business of playing with unwilling toys,” Eris supplies, purposely staring at the fire instead of you. “Perhaps I should call Rhysand to collect you and tell him I don’t appreciate being spied on. Perhaps, he will never send you back here.” His brows scrunch in frustration but you both know that the threat is empty. It seems he is tired of your games. 

“What do you want?” You barely grind out, still refusing to relent to the signing inside your soul. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Princely bastard.” You practically spit, and faster than the blink of an eye Eris is in front of you, fisting your hair in one hand and tilting your chin to meet his smoldering gaze. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” He questions, and you can see the vulnerability dancing in his eyes. You shake your head as the fire binding your wrists recedes and you move into a more comfortable kneeling position, hands now bound in front of you. He soothes his hand along your cheek again as your brows knit together. You thought that the two of you had a kind of understanding. You had no idea where this was coming from. “I tire of this ruse, my love.” If Eris notices the mournful look in your eyes he says nothing. He strokes a warm hand through your hair, admiring your eyes in the firelight. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me huh?” The wolfish grin is back and you hum your agreement as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip again, pleased at your cooperation as he slides his finger into your mouth. He thrusts it into your mouth and as you teasingly run your tongue over the pad he lets out a moan that shoots straight to your core. 

He undoes the belt at his waist, pulling his cock out with his hand, and your mouth waters at the sheer size of him. 

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now,” he rumbles, pure authority and power radiating off of him. A glimpse at the future ruler he will become one day. You nod your enthusiastic consent as he grips the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth at a merciless pace. Your head empties as he hits the back of your throat, the hand cupping the back of your hair surprisingly gentle compared to the way he was brutalizing your mouth. “That’s a good girl, take me down your throat.” It spills out of his mouth like he can’t even control it as your eyes roll back in your head at his praise. Eris pushes your mouth all the way down to the base of his dick and holds you there for a few seconds as your nose connects with his pelvic bone. He’s relentless as he uses you for his pleasure and you think that he might bruise your vocal cords. 

He spills down your throat as your binds dissolve into nothing, leaving behind a warm tingling sensation where the fire licked at your limbs. 

You swallow what he gave you, opening your mouth in emphasis as whiskey eyes blow wide with lust. You’re drenched at the sight of his cock already stiffening again. He walks to the mountainous bed in front of you, making himself comfortable against the pillows. 

“Come here pet.” He growls fisting his cock in his hand and crooking his fingers with the other. You start to rise to your legs on sore knees, but you freeze when Eris tuts–holding his hand out to stop you. “No. I want you to crawl to me.” The order wraps around you like warm silk, voice sliding against your bones. You lower yourself back down to the floor, humiliation burning hot on your cheeks as you sway your hips in what you hope to be enticing. He stops you quickly and you look up at him from under fluttering lashes. “Strip. Slowly.” Your face burns even hotter and Eris can’t take his eyes off you as you rise, slowly undoing every single buckle on your leathers and letting them fall to the floor, leaving you entirely exposed to him before climbing onto the bed. His body is so warm against your skin as he draws your mouth to his, the burning taste of cinnamon whiskey floods your mouth. He dominates you even here, claiming you as his tongue wrestles with yours. The moan that slips out of you comes out scratchy from the abuse of your throat, and in a flash, you’re below him as he grinds his hips into yours. 

“Eris,” you whimper as his cock brushes against your folds. You need him to fill you to the brim, wanting him as close as possible. He shushes you gently as he bites at your pulse point, the only goal in his mind is to claim as he sucks dark marks into your neck. 

You’ll surely be wearing only turtle necks for a few weeks after this. 

His warm hands skate down your body, pulling and prodding at your sensitive nipples, letting out a dark chuckle as you whine at his ministrations. Eris mocks your moans as he rubs a finger at your center, rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers. Finally, he slips a finger inside of you rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. He knows exactly where to touch to get you to dissolve, his beautiful mate bending to him like water running through his fingertips. That ring-clad hand curls around your throat, cold metal contrasting with his warm hands, and you keen as the pleasant dizzy feeling takes over your whole body. 

That feeling combined with the addition of another finger in your core sends you hurtling through gold-flecked oblivion.

He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and moaning as he relishes the taste of you on his tongue. Staring down at your shaking form with smugness in his eyes as he circles the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way the muscles quiver under his touch. Eris sinks himself into you, inch by tortuous inch until you can’t tell where your body ends and he begins. He strokes slowly and deliberately, bruising you with his intensity as your vision goes white with searing pleasure every time he moves his hips.

You want him to leave his imprint everywhere on your body, that unanswered bond begging you to never leave this bed again. Eris must feel it too, that golden thread wrapping around his heart begging him to keep you, to never let another male so much as look at you. That makes something ugly twist in his chest and he almost snarls at even the thought of another male near you as his instincts take over and he draws your legs over his shoulders to hit an even deeper part inside of you. Your walls are clenching and fluttering around him as his pace turns ravenous, all you can do is try to hold on as your nails scrape jagged lines down his back. Eris scrapes his teeth over your neck, then he moves down to your nipple biting down as you scream his name before giving the other one equal attention. 

“Who do you belong to pet?” He murmurs in your ear in time with a thrust that's so deep your eyes roll back in your head. “Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this?” You can barely give him anything but a whimper as he devastates your body, pinching your clit in a way that elicits a pleasure-soaked sob. “Scream it for me,” he punctuates it with a slap against the apex of your thighs. 

“Yours Eris, I’m all yours!” You scream as you orgasm, tears running down your flushed cheeks, Eris follows soon after you spilling himself deep inside of you.

He pulls out, disappears into the bathroom, and returns with a clean rag to wipe up the mess he made between your thighs. He collapses onto the mattress next to you and pulls you to his chest, warming his hands with his power as he rubs slow circles into the small of your back. You look up at him and he’s taken aback at the vulnerability in your eyes. “Eris I-” you choke, unable to force the words you so desperately want to say past your lips. He shushes you with a kiss against your forehead. 

“I know,” he mutters into your hairline “I know.” You hold him tighter, blinking back tears as you lock the bond back down in its obsidian shackles,“I’ll wait an eternity for you.” It’s the last thing you hear before closing your eyes as you let him soothe you to sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I trust everything went well?” Rhys asks, raising a dark brow at your form where you stand across from his desk. You subconsciously pull the dark turtleneck further up, the deep purple marks burning like a brand. You scrubbed yourself raw as soon as you winnowed yourself to your apartment, and you’re praying to the Mother that Rhys doesn’t even catch a whiff of Eris or the frankly copious amounts of sex. The thought of Eris enjoying it this morning, pressing his nose against the crook of your neck to make sure it really stuck, before crawling his way down your body to settle in between your thighs makes you triple-check that the steel of your mental shields was still in place.

“Nothing to report,” You rasp, voice destroyed after last night's events. The attempts to clear your throat are doing nothing to help you

“Are you alright?” Rhys questions, wringing his hands together on his desk as he shoots a concerned look. 

“Must just be a chill I caught in Autumn, those woods get cold at night.” You supply and he hums his agreement. 

“Well go rest, you’ve earned it. Perhaps you should see Madja for something to soothe your throat.” Rhys says and you nod your agreement, taking the cue for your dismissal. You wait until his office door clicks shut behind you to let out your sigh of relief, thinking of nothing but soft sheets and warm hands. 

You can only hope you get another mission there soon.