#watching over his granddaughter

[teatimeatwinterpalace]

Afternoon Tea in the Garden of Clarence House, 1897. (x) Princess Beatrice of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Prince George, Duke of York later King George V, Ernest Louis, Grand Duke of Hesse, Grand Duchess Marie Alexandrovna, Duchess of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Princess Victoria Melita, Grand Duchess of Hesse and by Rhine, Prince Alfred of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Princess Mary, Duchess of York later Queen Mary, Prince Alfred, Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha and Princess Elisabeth of Hesse and by Rhine.

[mg549]

god i wish season 2 of h2o wasnt unwatchably misogynist 

[newspecies]

ROSE TYLER *SHAKING YOU*

[tchaikovskym]

gilmore girls gave me my first anti-blorbo. richard. i look at that man and i just go "no".

[citrusitonit]

bro just had a dream where first the first time i could scream and somebody actually came to save me this legit the first time somebody heard me in dreams 😭

[strawberrycircuits]

is it too late for me to do one of these. whatever here

if you know dont spoil the fun + maybe reblog. esp if ur not a legend of zelda fan

[bratzforchris]

could you do one where chris and reader bring their daughter home from the hospital after she's just born? i love your writings!!!!

My Girl, C. Sturniolo

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Summary: In which bringing your and Chris's first baby home from the hospital results in a core memory<3

Pairing: Chris x feminine reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of a difficult labor and its effects (not graphic!), young parents

Word Count: 974

A/N: Y'all my baby fever has been so bad lately (I'm 19 and single 🤡) and dad!Chris did NOT help. Thank you for the request and you cuties enjoy a fluffy Chris fic<33

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Chris gently lifted the enormous, pink carseat out of the back of the car, hoisting it onto his arm. He was beyond exhausted from the past three days. Granted, all he had ever wanted in life was to be a father, especially when you would be the mother. And so, he picked up the car seat with renewed energy, coming around the side of the car and opening up your door. 

“You good, ma?” he asked you, protective instincts kicking in as he watched you struggle to unbuckle your seat and step out of the car. 

“I just had a baby, dumbass. My hips are killing me and I’m wearing a diaper. What do you think the answer is?”

Between a long labor, the hustle and bustle of the hospital, and the typical aches and pains that came post-birth, you were a bit snappy after the events of the past three days. Nevertheless though, you planted a kiss on Chris’s cheek, eliciting a grin from your husband. 

“Glad to see the pregnancy didn’t take that fiery attitude I love so much.” Chris smiled, wrapping his arm around you to support you as you slowly walked with one hand and carrying the carseat that held your sleeping daughter in the other. 

 You two slowly began the trek up your front steps, with Chris supporting you the whole way. But before you could open the front door, it was flung open for you, revealing Nick and Matt. They stepped out quickly, eager to get a glimpse of their new niece. They exchanged squeals over how cute your baby girl was until Chris finally shoved them off, protective over his little family. 

“Can we get inside first?” he asked, rolling his eyes then smiling at you affectionately. 

The brothers allowed you to step inside the house, where both your and Chris’s parents were waiting, slightly more polite than his brothers. You quickly sat down on the couch with the help of your husband, winded from the short walk up the driveway. Chris quickly placed your daughter in your arms and sat beside you with a proud smile as everyone else gathered around on your large couch and on the rug. 

“So, have you two decided on a name?” Your mother asked excitedly, her eyes shining with joy. 

“We have,” You and Chris looked at each other and smiled as your daughter yawned in your arms, smacking her little lips. “Charlotte Marie Sturniolo.” You said in unison. 

Just as you spoke, Charlotte opened her eyes and yawned, letting out a tiny coo. Luckily, your families had been very respectful of your and Chris’s boundaries about holding her, especially since flu season was currently rampant. That didn’t deter anyone from letting out noises of affection at their new daughter, niece, and granddaughter, though. In your comical families, however, cute moments didn’t last long, which led to Nick piping up. 

“Can you say Lady Gaga?” he asked. “La-dy Ga-ga.”

Chris rolled his eyes, playfully kicking his brother, which received a giggle from you. “She’s a newborn.”

“I’m raising her to have culture.” Nick shrugged, flipping his hair across his forehead. 

As everyone continued to talk, your husband noted how you (and Charlotte) had become more quiet, snuggling into his side. He knew the whole birthing process had been extremely difficult on you, and selfishly, he really wanted some alone time with his little family. 

“Should we go upstairs?” he asked you, whispering in your ear and brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. 

You nodded softly, already on the verge of falling asleep as you felt your infant daughter snuggle into you. “Yes please.” You whispered back.

“Well, we would love to keep chatting, but duty calls,” Chris helped you stand up, adjusting Charlotte so she could still cuddle onto your chest. “My girls need me.”

By the time you two had made it upstairs, you were exhausted, but could still hear the talking of your family below, murmuring softly about what great parents you two already were. Granted, it had only been a few days, but in your opinion, you both already were. Despite being on the younger side, you and Chris both loved your daughter with your whole heart, and that was what you wanted the most. 

“Thanks for what you did back there,” You yawned as Chris tucked you into bed after placing Charlotte, who was fast asleep, in her crib. “I’m really tired.” 

“I could tell,” Your husband bustled around the room, straightening things up to lessen the load on your plate. “You’re so strong, baby.”

You were almost asleep, but you could sense that Chris had stopped moving, which with your husband, meant he was up to something. “Chris? Baby, what are you doing?”

You peeked open your eyes, only for your heart to practically burst. Chris had taken his shirt off and removed your daughter’s onesie, allowing her to cuddle skin-to-skin on his chest. He smiled over at you as she yawned, fisting his skin. 

“Look!” he whisper-shouted with the biggest smile on his face. “We’re cuddling!” 

You smiled, enjoying the scene before you. “She looks so cozy.”

Chris began to sway and dance softly, singing ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations quietly. “My baby girl. God, I love you so much. You and your mommy are my rock, honey.”

You could hear the happy tears in your husband’s voice as he sang to Charlotte, and that was the moment you knew that you had made the right choice for the father of your children. Chris had been nothing but supportive throughout your whole pregnancy and labor, and it was clear he was carrying that energy into fatherhood as well. You took a mental snapshot, filing away this moment for later because you knew this would always be one you came back to.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @idek3000hi @melguilbert @oobleoob

[ivyppoison]

THEY LIKE THE WAY I GRIND

pairings. cowboy!leon kennedy ⠀𝒙⠀ farmer’s granddaughter!fem!reader [ au ]

𐙚 warnings : slightly ooc leon ( bc he’s a southern boy in this fic obviously ), oblivious reader, suggestive content, derogatory language

words. 1.311k

note. am i finally satisfied i managed to write this fic ?! yes, yes i am. this came to me in a dream so i decided to write a fic about it because why not. i have an obsession for southern boys and their silly goofy accents even tho their ancestors fought for slavery & i wouldn’t be here today :3 ── yours sincerely, maxine

The family barn was some sort of fever dream for you. You’d only visited once or twice, and every time you left, you promised yourself you wouldn’t come back to the outskirts of your grandparents' home town. However, one thing, one sole person kept you coming back. 

A childhood friend, and possibly even a sweetheart who had you wrapped around his fingers ( those said fingers you wished were somewhere else ), your first kiss, your first time, the muse of your daydreams.

With his star studded boot, and dusted cowboy hat. Calloused hands and a whiskey-laced tongue.

Leon motherfucking Kennedy.

The soft, grassy and dewy smell of the countryside suffocated you as you stepped out of the farmhouse, making your way over to the barn where you could see Leon working.

You let your mind wander, your eyes flickering over his body, his bare arms flexing as he carried out his work, his blond strands falling into his face before he flicked it backwards.

Walking further towards him, you leaned against the fence with your legs crossed at the ankles, your nimble fingers playing with the rings that adorned your fingers as you waited for him to notice your presence.

A few moments passed before his blue eyes locked with yours, his gaze flickering up and down your body, lingering on the bare skin of your legs before meeting your stare once more.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself, pretty girl?” He asked, his Southern accent drawn out long, dropping the hay bale before dusting his hands and walking towards you.

“I came to see you of course,” you answered, your stomach softly fluttering at the close proximity of his body to yours. You could tell he was distracted by the clothes you decided to put on today: a pair of denim shorts and a flimsy blouse ( with a few buttons undone ). 

“After thinking you abandoned me for that big city of yours, you finally came back, didn’t you darlin’?” He asked, his eyes staring you down as the corners of his lips twitched up into a smirk. “Did you come back to see your grandparents, or did you come back to see me?”

You held your bottom lip between your teeth as you searched your brain for an answer.

“I came back to surprise them, Leon,” you lied, letting out a small sigh escape your lips, as you watched him search you for the truth.

“So, you didn’t come back to see me?” He feigned disappointment, placing his hand on his chest as he placed his hand on the fence beside your head.

“Of course I did,” you whispered, your voice faltering slightly as you started dumbly at him. 

The proximity of his body brought your mind into a trance rather than out as he closed the small distance between the two of you.

Leon’s eyes trailed down from yours to your lips as he leaned in slowly causing you to close your eyes. Before your lips met, however, he quickly pulled away, patting you lightly on the cheek as he watched you. 

“A lot has changed since you last came,” he continued as if nothing had happened, his hands resting on his hips as he looked to the side. “I have something to show you.”

Your eyes lit up at this as your fingers played with the hem of your shorts, following him as he led you across the barn to where the horses were kept.

Leon let out a whistle, searching for a particular horse before reaching for your hand. He placed your hand on the animal, smiling as you did so.

“Guess her name,” he said, watching you with an intensive smile.

You raised your eyebrows as you thought of an answer, shaking your head once you gave up.

“Named this beauty after you,” he explained, his gaze flickering over the horse as he stroked its forehead.

Your expression turned into one of a smile as you felt extremely flattered. 

“You named a horse after me?” You laughed, copying his actions.

“Gives me a reason to say your name,” he replied, “but now you’re back, I have more of a reason to say it, don’t I, pretty girl?” 

“Maybe we’ll get you on her, and you can go for a ride,” he suggested, crossing his arms as he looked over at you. 

“I don’t know how to ride horses, Leon,” you replied, drawing small patterns on its skin as you looked over at him.

“Why? I thought you were a natural after last time,” he replied, winking at you as you let out a sigh. “Maybe, later today, I could teach you how to ride. And I’m not talking about this darlin’ right here,” he added, whispering the last bit in your ear as he placed his thumbs in the belt holes of his jeans. “You could practise on something else.”

His eyes locked on something behind you as he started walking away.  

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Remember my offer,” he said, facing you before turning around and leaving.

You seriously needed a drink.

For the rest of the evening, you spent it in the comfort of your bed, sipping on a beer you took from the fridge as your mind recalled every moment that happened with him.

A foreign sound brought your attention to your window, pebbles knocking at the glass, as you decided to open it and peer down.

There he was, the devil himself, still clad in his clothes from earlier, a small smile lacing his lips as he noticed your head poking through the window.

He managed to make his way up to your room, crawling through the gap in the window before making sure his hat was secured to his head.

“You came,” you hummed, a grin adorning your face as you watched him.

“I’m not going to be the only one ‘coming’ tonight,” he replied, a smug expression as he closed the gap between you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, knocking at the enclosure of your ribs, his hands holding you at your waist as he finally pressed his lips to yours.

Almost unconsciously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head down as you deepened the kiss, a small gasp escaping your mouth as he bit lightly on your bottom lip. 

Your hand trailed down to the hem of his jeans, your finger looped in his belt hole as you pulled him closer.

“Getting confident, ain’t we, sweetheart?” He asked, staring down at you before taking off his hat and placing it on your head. “You look so pretty. I bet you’d look gorgeous riding my dick like the little cowgirl you are,” he whispered, causing a rupture in your stomach as it fluttered, your cunt getting wetter as he went on, addicted to the sound of his voice. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he kneaded the skin of your hip with his thumb, caressing small circles with his thumb, his lips nipping at the crook of your neck causing you to let out a small whimper.

“Be quiet for me, darlin’. Don’t want your grandparents waking up to the sound of their precious granddaughter getting railed by their farm boy,” he added with a small chuckle, looking up to see you practically crumbling under his touch.

“Come here,” he smiled, leading you towards the bed as he laid down on his back, resting his weight on his elbow as he looked over at you whilst his free hand toyed with his belt, unbuckling it before tugging it off. 

Watching him like this sent a shiver down your spine, the feeling accumulating in your stomach as you pressed your thighs together. Your fingers began to unbutton your blouse, earning a low whistle from Leon.

“Atta girl, you know exactly what to do.”

[harunayuuka2060]

*Timeskip: Just one week remain until Princess Aoife's birth*

Baby Liora: Aoife! Aoife! Helloooooooooo~! *his head on Leona's tummy*

Leona: Seriously this kid- You will not hear your baby sister by doing that.

Baby Liora: No?? Where?? Dada!

Leona: *points at his chest* Here.

Baby Liora: *moves and places his ear over his father's chest* AOIFEEE!

Leona: Ugh. My ears-

MC: *walks in* Liora, what are you doing?

Ruggie: Shishishi! He's excited to meet his sister!

MC: Ruggie, take Liora with you and see Kifaj.

Ruggie: Right, right. *approaches Liora and picks him up* Come now, Your Royal Highness.

Baby Liora: Want see Aoife...

Ruggie: You're going to see her after this week.

MC: Yes. For now, you should play with Kifaj.

Baby Liora: *sad frowns*

MC: *walks up to him and gives him a peck on the cheek*

Baby Liora: *giggles*

Ruggie: We'll get going now. And rest up, Leona!

Leona: Yeay, yeah. Just leave.

Ruggie and Baby Liora: *has left the room*

MC: How are you feeling, Leona?

Leona: It's a bit uncomfortable. She can't seem to wait.

MC: You must be feeling excited about her arrival.

Leona: Are you going to take her now?

MC: Yes.

Leona: ...

MC: ...

Leona: Why are you not kissing me yet?

MC: You're looking forward to it?

Leona: *annoyed* Of course. That's what I waited two years for.

MC: ...

MC: You are making me speechless.

Leona: I demand minutes of it. This is the only time I could get affection from you.

MC: ...

MC's father: I want to witness the birth of my granddaughter.

MC's brother: No chance, father. I'm afraid you'll just have to watch on the side. *sips his tea*

MC's father: It's been years. Haven't they forgiven your sister yet?

MC's brother: MC is not a saint, father. And can you stop playing favorites already? This is why she grew up spoiled.

MC's father: ...

MC's former attendant: *walks in* Sir? You have a visitor.

MC's father: A visitor?

*MC's mother enters*

MC's father: What are you doing here?

MC's mother: Why? This is my estate too.

MC's brother: *his eyes widen in interest as he continues to drink his tea*

Ruggie: Are you two done now?

MC: ...

MC: Leona will give birth to Aoife.

Ruggie: I- Why?

MC: Our daughter of mine refused to be transferred. I'm afraid Leona would have to endure the process.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: Well. He wouldn't mind being asleep for days.

MC: *looks seriously at him*

MC: He wouldn't just be sleeping for days. He will be escaping nightmares and illusions.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: That doesn't sound too good. What are you going to do now?

MC: I will never let anything happen to him, of course.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: You're so sweet to him, master-

MC: Ruggie.

Ruggie: Don't set me on fire.

MC's mother: MC has two children?

MC's brother: About to be two, yes.

MC's mother: ...

MC's mother: How are they? Didn't they struggle?

MC's brother: No worries, auntie. Your solution worked. They didn't get to inherit the bloodlust.

MC's mother: Oh... That's a relief.

MC's brother: *smiles* Auntie, don't you want to visit them in the Royal Palace?

MC's mother: ...

MC's mother: I am not sure if they would want to see me since I abandoned them the moment they were born.

MC's brother: Eh? But Auntie, wasn't MC aware of the reason?

MC's mother: ...

MC's mother: Would they have remembered?

MC's brother: Well... You do have a point. I mean, it's better than them having killed because of your bloodlust. Haha-

MC's mother: *feels saddened*

MC's brother: Sorry. By the way, why did you return, Auntie?

MC's mother: ...

MC's mother: I want to bid farewell to MC for the last time.

MC's brother: What?

MC's brother: ...

MC's brother: Are you dying?

[sophswritingthings]

what if a mizu x fem reader who’s her childhood crush? fem reader is like master eiji’s granddaughter or a child who was raised by him/visits him often. mizu sees her around often as a child and falls for her. years later, reader saves mizu and is like “miss me?” and Mizu’s first instinct is to tackle them into a tight hug

pairing: mixu x fem!childhoodcrush!reader

warning(s): the usual, y'know, swearing

a/n: I know I have others who put in a request before this, but I HAVE TO INDULGE RQ THEN I'LL GET BACK TO IT. this is so cute anon

summary: mizu hadn't grown up around people; she wasn't ever allowed outside. that was until she found the sword father, and stayed with him. she meets you, a pretty young girl her age, who happens to be his granddaughter. she falls for you--and years later--when she sees you again.. all of those feelings begin to resurface.

word count: 950 words / 5,010 characters

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

mizu stopped in her tracks, holding a large pair of long iron tongs in her small hands. she saw you, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. a pretty young lady, about her age.

what would a girl such as yourself want to do with sword father?

she cleared her throat.

"hello," you murmur to her. you'd never seen her before; and those eyes... blue as the water. "who is this.. grandfather?"

you turn to your grandfather. he holds up a hand, gesturing for you to silence. he than gestures for mizu to hand him the tongs, in which, she does.

your grandfather doesn't answer you, so you take to a different approach. just ask her directly.

"who are you?" you murmur, "and what is your name?"

she clears her throat again, coughing a little before she spoke. so awkward, and for what?

"mizu," she replied rather quietly. “I-I’m.. staying here. with your um, grandfather.”

you chuckle at her awkward tone. you smile at her, offering your hand for her to shake. you were a little taller than her.

she grabbed your hand, shaking it softly.

from then on; you had visited every so often, when your mother would allow it. you two got along like two peas in a pod; you were best friends.

and every time mizu saw you, she swore you got more beautiful.

that was until she had gone. one day when you had come to visit; the girl had disappeared into the wind. your grandfather had told you that she had disappeared on a quest.

and you never saw her again.

that was until now.

you were settled outside your home, knitting and watching the people go by along the cobbled streets.

someone of… interest, caught your eye.

the minute you saw them; you knew exactly who it was.

mizu.

your first instinct was to call out to her; but it seemed that wasn’t exactly possible right now. she was being chased, a sword attached to her hip.

you couldn’t just sit here, right? no, you couldn’t. you leapt to your feet, throwing yourself between the now seemingly samurai mizu, and the one chasing her.

“leave them go,” you hiss.

“move, girl,” he grumbles back, looking up at mizu than down at you. “he’s killed half my men!”

“and I’m sure he had a good reason to,” you glance at mizu over your shoulder, smiling softly. “head off and leave us be now. whatever business you have to settle with him, you can settle in a honorable matter like men.”

the man groaned, glaring at mizu as he stomped off.

you turned to mizu with a bright, bright smile.

“miss me?”

you giggle, gazing up at her. god she'd gotten tall; you used to be taller than her, now she was probably a foot taller than you!

she says nothing.

a gentle smile spreads across her lips, and she tackles you into a tight hug.

you laugh, rolling onto the snowy cobblestone ground with the woman. your blushing a little, seeing as she’s now sitting on top of you, gazing up at her.

“I suppose you did, than!” you laugh.

she sits you up, nuzzling into your neck.

“I did. I really did.”

you were beautiful as ever. maybe even more beautiful than the last she had seen of you. a proper woman, one of she was not, but that didn’t matter. she was happy to see you after all this time. and you had saved her, no less.

“so.. what are you up to, now?” you gesture her up and down, “a samurai, are you? I thought you would be married by now..”

that made her flinch, seeing as she was once married, and the son of a bitch turned her in. and she may or may not have killed him.

she wasn’t going to tell you that, though, because you'd certainly call her stupid if she did.

her sights had changed, certainly.

“I am a samurai, yes,” she replied, glancing away.

“and what brings you back around here, hm?” you annunciate the hm, smiling as she helps you to your feet, holding her hat under her arm.

“a quest. my vow.”

her vow. yes, you thought she'd told you about that.

“I didn’t think you would still live here.” she replies. a woman as beautiful as you had to be married off, right?

“I am waiting for my father to find me a match,” you roll your eyes. “not that I want him to.”

she cocked her head. so you weren’t married. and for some reason, now she was blushing, thoughts swarming her mind.

maybe she could be that match—

no. mizu, no.

you wouldn’t think of it. you looked at her as a friend, a childhood friend you hadn’t seen in years.

“under.. understood,” she whispers.

if you were being honest with yourself, you'd always had a little crush on mizu. and looking at her now, the strength she simply admitted from her, those good looks. those eyes.

your father would never allow it. but who cared what he wanted?

“are you going to visit? eiji, I mean.” you murmur. “I-I could accompany you, if you are.”

“ah, right—“ she stops herself as she hears you offer to come with her, “you could if you want to.”

“yes. yes, I’d like that.” you nod, beginning to walk side by side with her. you gently brushed her hand, giving her a small smile.

it made her heart pound in her damn chest. it told her something, maybe you wanted to explore this. you had obviously noticed it on her face.

she clasped your hand as you walked.

she wanted to explore it, too.

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

a/n: mizu and a childhood crush is always my favorite <333

[mochinek0]

Family Secrets

Damian couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen pieces of that costume when he lived in the League, but never did he expect to see his mother, disguised, in Paris! He carefully kept an eye on her as she walked into a bakery. He felt his own breath hitch as a young girl came and hugged her.

"Nonna!" she cried.

'Grandmother?'

"Hello, My Leetle Fairy." his mother replied, hugging her back.

"Are you having fun on your travels?" the girl questioned, "Where did you go this time?"

"Egypt." his mother declared.

The girl smiled, "Did you see the pyramids?"

His mother brought out a keychain of a pyramid and handed it to the girl.

"It's great!" the girl smiled, "I'll keep it on my desk so when I see it, I can think of you."

"I wish you could come with me." the disguised Talia declared.

"Maybe when I'm older?" the young girl answered.

Talia tapped the young girl's nose, "Possibly, but we know very well how hard you work."

"Mom!" announced a man, who seemed the size of Bane, "How are you?"

Damian watched on in shock. He was aware that his mother was much older than she appeared. Hearing someone around his father's age, refer to his mother as a maternal figure was unsettling.

"I'm fine, Tom." she answered.

"Would you like to put your bag down and rest?" he asked.

"Nonsense." his mother replied, "I may look older, but I'm fine. I wanted to see if Marinetta would like to take a ride around the city with me."

"Yes!" the girl cried.

Damian watched as they both got on a motorcycle and drove off.

It took awhile, but Damian finally spotted them near the Seine, eating ice cream. The girl was looking down at something, in her lap. His mother's eyes connected with his and he knew he had made her.

"I'll be right back." Gina spoke, kissing Marinette on the head.

Gina walked in Damian's direction.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Do you plan to kidnap her, Mother?" Damian questioned.

"Of course not!" Gina snapped.

"Who is she?" he asked.

Talia sighed, "Your niece; she's your age."

"So the man who called you mother-"Damian began.

"Your grandfather wanted me out of the way. He was looking for a male successor to take over." Talia began to explain, "He kicked me out of the League, briefly, and I had some semblance of a normal life. I fell in love with a baker. Tom is our son, before I ever met your father. Essentially, he is your older brother."

She sighed, "Everyhting was fine and I was happy, until he sent someone to exterminate us. Before I killed him, I learned my death was a test. Kill me and become successor to the League. I returned with his head and threw it at your grandfather's feet. He looked at me and said he would allow me back on one condition."

"What was it?" Damian asked.

"I had to leave my family." she admitted, "I said I understood and would be back in three months. I knew he would never stop coming after us."

"Why three months?" her son questioned, "You were already there. Did they not know of the League?"

"Tom was getting married and no, my family knew nothing about the League. I returned and told my family I would be 'traveling in my old age'. A few years after he got married, I came back to a three year old granddaughter. Your grandfather found out and forbid my return."

"Grandfather is dead." Damian spoke.-changing subject

"I've been stopping in more." she declared, "They aren't like us. They're not like your father. They know nothing about my past, aside from divorcing a man, who made me happy. I tell them I'm traveling around the word. I wear a wig and makeup. At some point, I will have to stop visiting all together since anyone else will grow old and pass on. The League........you lose sense of time when there. Two years ago, I thought she was still three. She was turning fourteen."

"What about the man?" her son asked.

Talia smiled, "Reminds me of your grandfather, actually. He's all about 'traditions', so perhaps it was for the best."

"Nonna!" Marinette cried out.

"Please, Damian, leave them alone." his mother whispered.

Damian watched as his mother walked away. He had never known her to beg for something.

"My Leetle Fairy, are you ready to go back home?" Gina asked, "Do you have new inspiration for your designs? I can't wait to see the clothes you create this time."

Damian watched as the girl put her sketchbook away.

'Clothes? Designs?'

He smiled softly. She was an artist, like him. He watched as his mother got on the motorcycle with his niece. What surprised him was seeing his niece glare at him. Damian chuckled.

'Mother may not see it, but she is a lot like them. A little fairy.'

"Damian, a Fairy is someone who helps people who are lost in the dark. It's not always in a literal sense; it can be figurative."

The young Al-Ghul turned and walked in the opposite direction.

'Fairy is a suitable name for my niece. I wonder how Mother would feel learning her true nature? A Fae who lures in her prey.'

TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

[babygorewhore]

Yes, sir.

Moving to the outer banks wasn’t planned but your grandmother needed as much help as she could get. What she didn’t mention was a hot guy named JJ worked for her. And he decides to take you. Even if you’re sleeping.

Moodboard

Idk what came over me. Thank you so much to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for beta reading and always talking me out of quitting writing. This is kinda short but oh well. And also my first JJ fic EEEEEEEE. And yes, I changed the name.

Warnings! Dubcon! Fucking you awake! Slight spanking! Pussy slapping! Oral! Fem recieving. Choking! Tying hands! Unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Perv! JJ Dark! JJ Dom! JJ sub reader!

You knew moving to a new state would be hard but the worst part was unpacking the dozens of boxes in your bedroom and you were careful to set away your prized box of toys.

You moved here to take care of your Grandma, the old woman didn’t have anyone else and she couldn’t hardly care for herself anymore. You didn’t mind, leaving behind your old state and hovering parents that were disappointed in your life choices. Setting your hands on your hips briefly you then jumped at the sound of the lawn mower. You walked to your window and gasped.

Moving the tool was a tall, shirtless blonde guy wearing knee length shorts. His shirt was tossed over his shoulder and his backwards hat covered his messy hair.

He glanced up and you stepped back from the window. You breathed out before you went downstairs where you grandma was loitering in the kitchen. “Grandma, are you hungry? It’s past noon.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I want you to meet someone.” She gestured for someone to enter the kitchen who was behind you and you gulped when you saw it was the hot blonde guy.

He put his t shirt on unfortunately and grazed by you as he passed by.

“This is JJ. He helps me around and I appreciate his company.” She reaches up and pinches his cheek. You snort when he winced but then plasters on a fake smile.

“And she’s my favorite lady to cut grass for, aren’t you?” You almost rolled your eyes at the way your grandma cooed after him.

JJ turned towards you. “Well, you must be the famous uh, Baby doll, your grandma keeps talking about. When did you get here?” The way he phrases the word makes goosebumps rise on your skin but you clear your throat.

“I uh, got here three days ago. I’m still unpacking.” JJ nodded.

“Well, let me know if you need any help with that. I gotta finish cleaning the pool. I’ll see you later.” He gave you a smirk, glancing up at your body.

The hours went by and you really tried to resist but you finally took out your rabbit. Tension built up from stress and now new eye candy to admire. He stayed for hours, cleaning and working outside. Giving you plenty to view as he wiped sweat off his body with his discarded shirt.

Everyone where you used to live wasn’t nearly on his level. And he seemed confident. At least to you.

The silicone was slightly cold as you ran it down your clit that was covered in spit.

What you didn’t know. someone was watching you.

JJ was hidden in your closet. He never left, only snuck back in through the window when everyone went to bed. He had been waiting for weeks for you to come. The old woman couldn’t stop talking about her pretty little granddaughter. And when he saw your picture? He knew he’d have you no matter what it took. He didn’t care that it made him a total perv right now.

The way you ran the toy over your pussy that was glistening even in the dim lighting. Your hands were grabbing your tits as you massaged them and he had to clench his jaw to keep from moaning.

Finally, you brought it inside you, your cunt took it with ease as you pumped it slowly then faster. You almost rolled on the bed, your legs spread wide as you moaned and panted. “Mmm,”

JJ started palming himself before he forced himself to stop. No. He wouldn’t cum in his own hand. No. He would cum inside you.

You were growing closer, he could tell by the way you were breathing and how your stomach tightened. Come on, baby. There you go. He thought.

You spilled all over the toy and bit your lip to quiet yourself. JJ wanted to make you scream and he would. He’d have you on your own bed. A little Kook according to his standards but you needed him. Your pretty doe eyes that were fucked out. Your bitten bloody lip that he wanted to suck.

He waited as you drifted asleep after staying on your phone.

He quietly walked out, his boots thankfully not making much noise. JJ carefully picked up the discarded rabbit beside you. He brought it to his mouth, seeing it was still wet with your slick.

He wrapped his lips around it, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste that coated the plastic. JJ knew his own cum would taste like heaven mixed with yours. His tongue licked the sides, much like how he wanted to devour your sweet pussy. You were still naked on your lower half. JJ rolled his hips as he tried to keep quiet.

But your swollen pussy. Your tits hanging outside of your shirt. Fuck it. JJ set the rabbit down and sank to his stomach. He wasn’t going to wake you up in the traditional way. No. His breath warm against your pussy and he flattened his tongue against your clit.

You groaned, something…felt good. It was in between your legs. It was warm and pressured. You groggily opened your legs and saw a head full of blonde curls buried in your cunt. You gasped but a slap landed on your ass.

“Shhh.” It was JJ. “Lay back. Like a good girl.” He commanded as he greedily sucked your clit before releasing it. he saw you were still sitting up, eyes wide staring at him. “Lay. Down.” He gritted out and you quickly obeyed.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered as he kitten licked the underside of your bud before sinking it inside you. Your pussy tightened around his tongue and he groaned and dug his nails against your flesh. He dragged them down as you humped his mouth with force but he didn’t fucking care.

“JJ, I’m gonna c-“ He stopped immediately and you whined from the removal.

JJ slapped your pussy. “You should see how pathetic you look.” He smirked as he yanked off his shorts and wrapped your wrists with his belt above your head. “This is how it’s gonna go, you’re gonna fucking take it.”

You shuddered before he slammed his lips to yours, he tasted like weed as he opened his mouth and twisted his tongue to yours. You tasted yourself on him as your eyes fluttered shut. You felt him run the tip of his cock along your slit before he sank into you, filling you up.

Your head lulled to the side as you sighed as he started thrusting without warning. “You’re such a dirty slut, huh? Letting me fuck you while you’re sleeping? Fucking yourself while I’m watching?”

Your headboard slammed against the wall and your eyes rolled back as he hit a particular deep spot inside you and his necklace hovered above your face. You couldn’t hardly move but just accommodate him with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Don’t-don’t stop, sir.”

JJ leaned down and let spit fall into your mouth. “I’m gonna cum in you. Fuck a baby inside you. You’d like that? Knocked up with my baby?”

You nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir. Fuck,” You body jolted as your peak was rising, his thumb started circling around your clit.

JJ was about to cum, you knew by the way his speech halted and his movements stopped having a rhythm as he ravaged you. His hand slid to your throat as he gripped you. “Thank me for fucking you. Then you-you can cum.” He muttered.

“Thank you for fucking me, sir.” You whined before your pleasure exploded inside you.

Your body trembled as white hot euphoria came over you and your air was cutting off as JJ squeezed. His rings cold against your burning flesh. He spilled inside you, sticky and all over your pussy and thighs.

You both breathed in each other and he released your throat and you sucked in oxygen.

JJ gave you a wicked smile. “I’m not done with you, princess. I’m gonna hide again in your closet. And you’re going to pretend you’re sleeping. We’ve got all night, huh?”

Tagging. @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @take-everything-you-can @girlfuckthatwhore @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @scene-and-dandylover @lesservillain @emsgoodthinkin

[soberscientistlife]

“A grown man looms behind my three-year-old daughter. Occasionally he will poke or tickle her and she responds by shrinking. Smaller and smaller with each unwanted advance. I imagine her trying to become slight enough to slip out of her booster seat and slide under the table.

When my mother views this scene, she sees playful taunting. A grandfather engaging with his granddaughter. “Mae.” My tone cuts through the din of a familiar family gathering together. She does not look at me.

“Mae.” I start again. “You can tell him no Mae. If this isn’t okay you could say something like, Papa, please back up—I would like some space for my body.”

As I say the words, my step-father, the bulldog, leans in a little closer, hovering just above her head. His tenebrous grin taunts me as my daughter accordions her 30-pound frame hoping to escape his tickles and hot breath.

I repeat myself with a little more force. She finally peeks up at me. “Mama . . . can you say it?”

Surprise. A three-year-old-girl doesn’t feel comfortable defending herself against a grown man. A man that has stated he loves and cares for her over and over again, and yet, stands here showing zero concern for her wishes about her own body. I ready myself for battle. “Papa! Please back up! Mae would like some space for her body.”

My voice is firm but cheerful. He does not move. “Papa. I should not have to ask you twice. Please back up. Mae is uncomfortable.”

“Oh, relax,” he says, ruffling her wispy blonde hair. The patriarchy stands, patronizing me in my own damn kitchen. “We’re just playin’.” His southern drawl does not charm me. “No. You were playing. She was not. She’s made it clear that she would like some space, now please back up.”

“I can play how I want with her.” He says, straightening his posture. My chest tightens. The sun-bleached hairs on my arms stand at attention as this man, who has been my father figure for more than three decades, enters the battle ring.

“No. No, you cannot play however you want with her. It’s not okay to ‘have fun’ with someone who does not want to play.” He opens his mouth to respond but my rage is palpable through my measured response. I wonder if my daughter can feel it. I hope she can.

He retreats to the living room and my daughter stares up at me. Her eyes, a starburst of blue and hazel, shine with admiration for her mama. The dragon has been slayed (for now). My own mother is silent. She refuses to make eye contact with me.

This is the same woman who shut me down when I told her about a sexual assault I had recently come to acknowledge.

This is the same woman who was abducted by a carful of strangers as she walked home one night. She fought and screamed until they kicked her out. Speeding away, they ran over her ankle and left her with a lifetime of physical and emotional pain.

This is the same woman who said nothing, who could say nothing as her boss and his friends sexually harassed her for years. This is the same woman who married one of those friends. When my mother views this scene, she sees her daughter overreacting. She sees me ‘making a big deal out of nothing.’ Her concerns lie more in maintaining the status quo and cradling my step-dad’s toxic ego than in protecting the shrinking three-year-old in front of her.

When I view this scene, I am both bolstered and dismayed. My own strength and refusal to keep quiet is the result of hundreds, probably thousands of years of women being mistreated, and their protests ignored. It is the result of watching my own mother suffer quietly at the hands of too many men. It is the result of my own mistreatment and my solemn vow to be part of ending this cycle.

It would be so easy to see a little girl being taught that her wishes don’t matter. That her body is not her own. That even people she loves will mistreat and ignore her. And that all of this is “okay” in the name of other people, men, having fun.

But. What I see instead is a little girl watching her mama. I see a little girl learning that her voice matters. That her wishes matter. I see a little girl learning that she is allowed and expected to say no. I see her learning that this is not okay.

I hope my mom is learning something, too. Fighting the patriarchy one grandpa at a time.”

~ By Lisa Norgren

[lassieposting]

Concept:

You are Bhaal, god of murder, and someone is praying to you.

And that's not necessarily unusual. Lots of people pray to you, usually for the untimely death of a rival, an ex-spouse, an overseer. The prayer itself is a small and broken thing, bloody and raw, whispered by a man whose vision is dulled by agony and the dark spectre of approaching death. The pathetic not-quite-survivor of some rather brutal torture, wishing murder upon his captor. You take a moment to enjoy the fear, the pain, the suffering - and then you tune him out. There are millions like him, and your favour is for those willing to do their killing themselves. Besides, that wretch will be nothing but a corpse all too soon.

Except...he doesn't die. You never feel that timid little spark of existence stutter and go out. Far beyond the breaking point of a mortal body, this one lingers on, clinging to being with fingers all but stripped back to bare bone.

It's intriguing enough to warrant a second look and - interesting. The prayer comes from a vampire, a pretty little corpse becoming an even prettier corpse under the skilled hand of a cruel master.

It is not in your nature to intervene. You favour the strong, not the weak. The master, not the slave. Your first instinct is to leave the wretched little thing to his fate.

But the thing is. Your child - your favourite child, shaped from your own flesh, coldest and most brutal of your progeny - has gone and got a boyfriend.

And you don't like him.

You don't like the effect he's having on your chosen, the way they're becoming distracted, attached, less devoted to their true purpose. And right now, your nature takes a back seat to your desire to get rid of that smug, arrogant little Baanite whelp, Enver Gortash. Your granddaughter's spiteful machinations have given you an opening, but you know they're bound to run into one another eventually, and it will all start over.

The vampire is beautiful. Well-trained. Accustomed to brutality. Already purged of sympathy and compassion, eaten up inside by hatred and bitterness and harm. And immortal; able to survive the worst of your son's inclinations. At this point, he'll do.

So you redirect a nautiloid. It's not that you're showing the creature any favour - it's just pragmatism, really. He is simply a tiny piece of a very large puzzle.

And then you watch.

You watch the vampire take the spectacular murder of a young bard in stride.

You watch him identify your memory-addled, sanity-challenged offspring as the most dangerous one in their sad little group of unwashed tragedies - the strongest protector, the solution to his fear of being discarded or returned to his master.

You watch him expertly lure your progeny into a pit trap of sex and lies and manipulation, dressed up with honeyed words and an exaggerated performance of desire.

Your child comes face to face with Enver Gortash and remembers nothing - feels nothing. They only have eyes for Astarion, and you are filled with satisfaction. The vampire is pathetic and fearful now, but already he plans to take over his master's ritual, and then he will be perfectly placed to feed your child's very worst impulses, to bring out the sharpest edge of the darkness inside.

You watch the vampire say, "I want us to be real."

You watch your child happily become a glorified comfort blanket, your masterwork living weapon reduced to little more than a prey animal, a do-gooder, a sacrifice.

Watch them vow, "I will be the person you see in me."

Watch them talk the blasted creature out of going through with the ritual at all.

Watch them start fighting their own nature for the pantomime love of someone else's broken toy.

Watch them turn on you.

And you decide, with the benefit of hindsight, that Enver Gortash was not that bad, actually.

[eufezco]

THREE LIES AT ONCE

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!STYLIST!READER

this is based on a prompt from character.ai c:

SYNOPSIS -> You're his stylist and you discover bruises.

You liked it when Finnick visited the Capitol and Finnick hated doing it except for the fact that he knew you would be there.

You had already earned a reputation as a stylist in the Capitol when you two met. And it had been four years since Finnick won his games but President Snow had kept him close because nothing was more appealing than a charming boy in his twenties to the people of the Capitol.

You learned from the best. Cinna taught you everything he knew about fashion and then made you forget about it all so you could build your own style. It actually worked quite well because your designs were sold in the Capitol as if people needed them to live.

Your colors and characteristic shapes, your outrageous skirts, your long dresses, and your headdresses were worn by everyone, men and women fought over your designs and they spent all their savings on your clothes. President Snow was more than delighted with you, not only because his granddaughter deeply admired you but because you knew how to be liked, and he loved that about you.

That's why President Snow found the perfect match with Finnick and you and for once in his life, he did something right.

Finnick became your muse. From the moment you were introduced at the Capitol and you saw him walking towards you with those bright green eyes, his perfectly messy blonde hair, his tanned skin thanks to the way the sun in District 4, and his body that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. You knew you never wanted to design anything else but for him.

―When did you arrive and how is it that you haven't come to see me earlier? ―You threw yourself into his arms, your fingers dug into his blond locks of hair. This was not the typical relationship that stylists used to have with their models but after working with him for a couple of years now, it was inevitable that some affection would grow between the two of you. Especially when, during his stays in the Capitol, you spent most of your time together. You were the only thing that kept him from going crazy.

He would sit and watch you while you sketched out his next outfit. You would share a drink and ask him questions about how his life was back in District 4. Finnick loved to talk about his home and you loved to imagine yourself there, in the places that Finnick described to you so precisely. The sea reaching your feet, the sun shining against your skin, the sound of seagulls flying across the bluest sky you had ever seen... And for some reason that you were still trying to figure out, every time you imagined yourself in one of those scenarios, he was by your side. District 4 seemed like a lovely place.

Finnick's arms wrapped around your waist while his face hid in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your familiar scent when you hugged, too sweet for the Capitol, not like the perfume people there used to keep up with their continuous call for attention.

―Yesterday but I was too tired from the trip.

That was the first lie that Finnick told you that night.

There was an expression of relief on your face with something like a small smile on your lips, grateful to see him again after such a long time and when everything in your life was chaos thanks to the preparation of the next games. Your eyes were closed, enjoying him holding you until you heard him say those words and then they opened in a combination of surprise and confusion.

―Don't think that being tired is an excuse for not coming to see me, Finnick Odair. That should always be the first thing you do as soon as you set foot here. ―You said, still thinking about why would he lie to you.

You moved apart from the hug and Finnick had a big smile on his lips that inevitably made you smile too. ―I'm sorry. ―He apologized.

―You better be. But now I need you to tell me if you like it.

You turned to grab your notebook and showed him the sketch you drew. Finnick took the notebook from your hands so he could take a better look and admire every detail.

―This is beautiful. You're an artist. I doubt there is anyone half as good as you in the whole Panem.

―Oh, there's Cinna. I haven't managed to dethrone him yet.

―Come on, you outdid Cinna a long time ago. He says so himself. The student surpassed the master, there's nothing wrong with that.

You shook your head and said nothing. Finnick rolled his eyes, he knew you didn't like hearing from him or anyone else that you were better than Cinna. Not even when Cinna himself tells you.

―Have you started sewing it yet? Can I see it?

―That's why I needed to see you. I haven't started yet because I need to measure you again. The last time you wore one of my garments it was too tight. I don't want to risk it not fitting you this time. ―You grabbed the measuring tape and pins from the table in your studio, full of fabrics and patterns for the new tributes. Cinna had given you his notebook with some beautiful sketches and had told you that he needed something similar but for the male tribute, a guy named Peeta Mellark from District 12, and you had been working day and night to meet Cinna's expectations. ―The robe is behind the dressing screen.

―Yes ma'am.

Finnick walked over without saying another word. You admired his figure as he walked away. Finnick's back was twice as wide as when you met him, his arms had grown stronger, now you could identify each of the muscles in them and his legs had also doubled in size, unfortunately, Finnick loved to wear long skirts, if it were up to you he would be showing them all the time. The features of his face had also changed, now they were more pronounced. Finnick's dimples were more visible and his jaw was so sharp you'd swear if you slid your finger along it you'd cut yourself.

―This looks great on you. I don't know why I try to design you something new every time. I should let you go around with that.

Finnick shook his head, failing in his attempt not to laugh at your stupid joke. ―You are not only the best designer but also the funniest one, huh?

You rolled your eyes. Finnick knew you didn't like it when he told you that and he did it on purpose to tease you. ―Come on, take it off.

Finnick stood before the mirror as you stood behind him. Once he slipped it off, you gasped and jumped back, horrified.

―Gosh, Finnick, what is this? ―You took a few steps backward at the sight of the bruises that trailed down his back. By their bright red color you would say were rather recent. You didn't know how to react, you were petrified staring at his back.

Finnick smiled, dismissing what you just saw with practiced charm. ―Ah, just a little souvenir. My lovers like to play rough. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

That was the second lie Finnick told you that night.

Finnick's chest was heavy but he was trying to keep his cool. He had assumed that by the time the two of you saw each other the wounds would have healed, besides the fact that he didn't think he would have to undress in front of you.

―Your lovers? This absolute atrocity was done by one of your lovers?

―They were probably just a little too... enthusiastic. Besides, I don't have a problem with it, I like it. My skin heals fast so I'll be all good in no time.

And that was the third lie. His skin did not heal fast. You had always told him off for coming to dress rehearsals all bruised up from his training sessions and those bruises had lasted for days. These new ones were sure to stay on his skin for at least a month.

―How can some one like this?

Finnick could hear the disdain in your voice. You should be disgusted, horrified and definitely judging him, but don't worry, so was he.

―Honey, if you don't understand it's not my problem.

―No, you're right. I don't understand. I don't think you enjoyed that.

―Oh, you're gonna tell me what I can or cannot enjoy?

―Have you seen your back? Have you seen how bad this looks?

Finnick chuckled. ―I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. Do you need all the details? Is the life of a stylist so boring?

―Finnick, listen to me. I don't want all the details I want the truth, and now it's the perfect time to start. ―You said. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him around to look at you. Finnick groaned as your hands were placed on his shoulders and when he stood face to face with you, he could see how upset you were.

―I don't know what you're talking about. ―He bit the inside of his cheeks, that was just what he had been told, not to tell anyone the truth about what had happened. He saw you roll your eyes and let all the air out of your body through your mouth, annoyed.

―I know that you didn't arrive yesterday. Cinna told me. Do you really think you can go unnoticed? Here? And I know for a fact that those bruises are not from one of your lovers, let alone that they were done to you a couple of days ago.

Finnick swallowed, looking at you with his head held high. He tried to keep the smile on his lips, pretending that everything was okay, that he did enjoy it when those bruises were inflicted on him, but his lower lip betrayed him and began to tremble. You bent down to pick up the robe and carefully threw it over his shoulders so he wouldn't feel so exposed. Finnick's head was bowed. You lifted it using your thumb and index finger on his chin very gently.

―I need you to tell me who did this to you. I can't help you if you don't tell me.

Finnick chuckled amid the sadness and shame he was feeling. ―Help me? You can't help me.

―I'm sure there's something I can do. I could―.

―They were Peacekeepers following Snow's orders.

Your jaw dropped and your heart rate accelerated. It was the first time that Finnick was admitting that to someone. It had been impossible to tell anyone, let alone a citizen of the Capitol like you. Finnick couldn't possibly admit that without compromising his carefully cultivated image. Besides, if he made himself out to be a victim, the Capitol would never allow someone they saw as weak to perform the role of the Golden Boy and all the people he cared about in District 4 would die. At that moment you realized that all the times he showed up at your studio claiming that his injuries were from training were not true and you felt sick to your stomach.

―How did it happen? ―You asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat

―I tried to leave the Capitol. Before I could get on the train back to District 4 I was arrested by Peacekeepers and they took me to Snow's mansion. A lot of people came and when I refused to see them... I've been locked up there since then, that's why I couldn't come to see you earlier.

You shook your head, feeling awful. ―Don't worry about it, Finnick. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. ―Your stomach complained and begged your brain to stop imagining everything that Finnick would have been put through since then. The beatings, the strangers paying to sneak into his bed, the Peacekeepers bursting into his room and leaving him bleeding on the floor...

―Snow likes me. There has to be something I can do for you.

―You don't understand. It's not something that I can quit.

―I can spend all day designing and sewing to pay Snow the money he would make with you. I can talk to Cinna to raise the price of our designs. People here are rotten with money, they'll keep buying them anyway.

―It's not that simple. You can't just buy my freedom.

―Has anyone tried before?

Finnick thought about it and shook his head. ―Snow wouldn't allow that to happen. ―You ran your hand over your face in despair, not knowing what else to do to help him and feeling a responsibility to do something about it. You were the citizen of the Capitol, the one who had superior status and the favor of Snow, there must be something you could do.

―What if I buy you?

Finnick's eyes widened in surprise. ―Buy me?

You nodded and realized how bad that sounded. ―But not in like, a slave type of way. Gosh that sounded awful. I would just― Do it so you can live your life in your district. I wouldn't― keep you here, no. You'd just have to come to the Capitol a couple of times, make a few public appearances, and leave again.

―Why would you do that for me?

You bit the inside of your cheeks and nodded. ―You're my friend. I care about you.

You had managed to give him something he had long been missing. Hope. Maybe what you wanted to do would work or maybe not but at that moment Finnick felt that someone cared and that gave him hope that everything would work out.

Finnick took a step forward and placed his hands on your cheeks. He leaned in slightly and connected his lips with yours. Your hands ended up resting against his warm bare chest, closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you. You knew it was the emotion of the moment, the adrenaline rush of knowing that maybe he could live his life in peace. You had given him hope and he was happy that someone had shed some light on his situation.

When you parted ways after the kiss, you both were smiling.

―Go and put your pants on, I'll treat your bruises.

―Do you know how?

―Well, not really, but I'm not short of needle and thread and I still have some alcohol from last night.

Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. That would work. He walked to the dressing screen and you watched him as he walked away in the mirror's reflection. Before hiding behind the dressing screen, he said something that lit up a flame in your heart and made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

―I wish you would come with me to District 4.

my requests for the hunger games are open 📥

[testrella]

you're my religion priest! s. geto x f!reader pt.1→pt.2

synopsis: y/n moved into a small and tight knit town to take care of her elderly grandmother. what happens when she attends a sermon with her grandmother, and finds herself lusting over someone she cannot have.

fandom: jujutsu kaisen ⌗ priest suguru geto x female reader⌗ modern au content warnings: mild cursing, smut, head (giving), religious themes(?), slight degrading at the end, angst(?) public sex, NSFW.

author's note: over 11k words, u guys have fun

“..in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit. amen.”

father geto finishes off the sermon with the routine prayer. he takes the opportunity being on stage to scan the loyal audience. it was the regular, older people he preaches to. the same people who boast about him being so devoted to God at such a young age. how that when they were his age, they were off sinning. he thinks about the constant praises about being a young devoted follower, but it immediately stops when he sees her. 

a young lady, who seemed to be around the same age as him, sitting in the very back with an elderly woman. even though she was dressed as modestly as possible, the black floor length dress immersed your body in all the right places.

when did he allow his immoral thoughts come to mind

 “oh father! you must meet mrs. johnson’s granddaughter- maybe you can convince her to turn to God.” an elder of the church whispered to the priest. she gently pulled him to the side, off of the stage. 

“as you must have heard by now, edith’s grandbaby is out of control. rumor has it that she’s been caught using multiple different contraband, and premarital sex! can you believe edith would allow this to go on for so long?!”

geto mentally sighs, gossiping was always an issue at church. especially since it was located in a very small town, there wasn't much to talk about. when you were new to town, the locals went wild. fabricating very detail of your life, and spouting that nonsense through their teeth.

“with respect dear mary, the scripture speaks strongly against gossip. i’ll talk to the young lady, but please watch yourself. for there is no greater sin than sin.”

she nods while looking down, unable to meet geto’s gaze. too embarrassed to voice her concern furthermore, she mutters “yes father, please forgive me.”

“i am not the one you should be asking for forgiveness, ask the man above. now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll introduce myself to the newest member of our church.” he smiles gracefully before making his way towards mrs. johnson and her ‘scandalous’ granddaughter. 

he takes small steps towards you, puffing his chest out as he walks with a sense of pride. sure you were a pretty girl, but he was only interested to guide you through your religious journey. 

“father geto, i introduce you to my granddaughter. this is y/n. she’s only 20, and she recently moved into town to take care of me. isn’t she the kindest?”

he loses his train of thought. he's unable to bring himself to utter a single word. you were much more gorgeous up-close. if he were to describe your beauty, he’d be too overwhelmed, and wouldn’t know where to start. maybe he’d start with the way your nose fits your face perfectly. or, how your smile molded perfectly with your faint smile lines. 

geto snaps out of his trance, and quickly introduces himself. 

“i’m father geto. welcome to this church, i hope your stay has been great so far.” he purred. 

you squint your eyes at him. almost as if you already knew the rumors going around. nonetheless, you shake his hand. 

“like my grandma said, i’m y/n. i do hope we cross paths alone in the future.”

he blushes from the way you shaked his hand, but also put your other hand on his. solidifying the handshake more than it needed too. not only that, the last comment you made. crossing paths.. alone?

“my confessional booth is always open before my sermon, and at 9 PM on sundays. if that’s what you mean of course.” 

you puff your chest out and let out a dramatic sigh. taking in your arms, and letting them rest to your side, you open your mouth to speak. he stares at your lips, refusing to make eye contact.

“the sermon did end, i guess i’ll have to see you later tonight.” you assured him before walking over to your grandmother who made conversation with someone else. he watched you walk away, allowing himself to sneak a peek from behind. 

later that day, geto was having lunch. he finds himself unable to focus on his best friend's story, the words going in one ear and out the other. all the plays in his mind is you, and what you could possibly up to.

“satoru, i think i was seduced today after my sermon.” he spilled out, no longer able to contain his thoughts. 

“gross! how old was she? 50? 69? HA, get it? 69?” 

geto rolls his eyes at the blue eyed ‘man’ who acted immaturely any chance he got. maybe he really should have kept his thoughts to himself. it was better than trying to converse it with an actual man-child.

“goodness satoru, no. she was a few years younger than me. 4 years to be exact. she’s one of the elder’s granddaughter, and the way she spoke to me made me feel like i was sinning. i didn’t even do anything!”

“well..”

his eyebrow quirks as satoru began his sentence. 

“did she have big tits?” 

geto’s face quickly turned from curiosity to disgust. he abruptly stood up from the table, placing both hands on it for support, and got all up in satoru’s face.

“how could you ever speak so unashamedly about a lady like that?! let alone speak like that in front of a priest!”

“well forgive me father, i didn’t mean to offend you and your girlfriend,” satoru said sarcastically while putting his hands up defensively. “i’ve said worse, and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. she must’ve had big tits for you to go all preacher mode on me.“  

as much as geto didn’t want to admit it, satoru was right. there were many time's geto allowed the white haired man to say the most diabolical stuff known to man. even listening when satoru would describe women’s bodies in detail and occasionally his one night stands. why was this any different?

“excuse me, is that you father?” 

there is was.

the seductive voice he met only hours ago. both boys slowly turn their heads to the h/c girl standing right in front of them. their eyes met with the beauty talked about earlier. only now you were wearing a shorter version of the dress you wore earlier. 

“m-miss. y/n? i’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time. what brings you here?” 

you only acknowledge one of the two men in front of her, and of course it was geto. your eyes met his, and never shifted away. it was almost like a dance of temptation, daring him to do further than just eye contact. the dark aura coming from you was overwhelming him, or maybe it was just your strong perfume. 

“i apologize for the disruption, father geto. my grandma asked me to run some errands. i guess i’ll have to speak with you later tonight.“ 

before geto could get a word in, you once again walk off. just like before, he once again glances down there. 

forgive me Lord, for i have sinned. 

“dude what the fuck was that..” the white haired man questioned. he also noticed the thick tension that was stirred by non other than you.

“i d-don’t know. i cannot see her tonight. i’m scared she might tempt me into.. into doing something that’s against the scripture.”

he now finds himself in the confessional booth, anxiously waiting for your arrival. it was currently 9:47 PM, you were late. it did not help his anxiety at all. he’d give you until 10:15 for you to arrive. anything later would have to just be scheduled on another sunday. 

he lets out a deep breath before he hears the clattering of heels. geto takes a peak out of his curtain only to be met with a sultry gaze. he quickly closes off his curtain, and subconsciously wipes his sweaty palms on his lap. this was like any other confessional, there was nothing to be conspicuous. 

“father geto? are you there?“ you ask in a voice just above a whisper. 

geto swallows whatever was in his mouth before speaking.

 “of course i am.“ 

“ahem, forgive me father. i have sinned since i first moved into this town. actually, i sinned today after the sermon.“ 

he stays silent. he’s tempted to ask what you’ve done, and if it possibly had something to do with him. but you answer his unspoken questions before he can think about it for too long.

“before moving into this lovely town, my grandmother sent me a picture of her priest. goodness, i didn’t know what to do with myself.“ 

he was determined to stay stoic, and not to speak unless it was to say a prayer. but her hushed voice and the strong tension made it difficult. the air seemed to thicken every time she finished a sentence. geto couldn’t escape your magnetic pull of lust.

“a-and if i may ask, what did you do to deal with your problem?”

“i couldn’t resist myself. after i saw the photo of him, i began to have lewd thoughts. every night leading up to my departure, i’d touch myself thinking about him. then..”

she lets out a small moan, but geto would describe it as a small whine. now he was breathing heavily as his boxers started to tighten up. there was no way he could get hard in the church. it was sinful. but he was here to help you, and allowed you to continue.

“i met him today. after the sermon i started using objects to make myself feel satisfied. but it was nothing compared to his large hands shaking my hand. i can only imagine him using his hands going inside of me instead of holding a bible. even now, i cannot resist his voice..” you confessed as heavy breathing came from your end. 

“..come over to my side dear. let me help you.” he whispered.

you waste no time he notes from the sounds coming from the other side. your heels clacked once or twice before you pulled the curtain from his side. 

he studies your face very carefully. there was a light red tint spreading across your cheeks, and your ears were bright red. his eyes then wander down to your very revealing shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. the shirt was accompanied by a matching skirt, a very, VERY, short skirt.

you walk into the tight fitting booth. before he can get his hands on you, you kneel down in between his legs. your pretty little head lays on his left thigh.

“forgive me father. how can i ever make you forgive me for my sins?” you lift your head and your hands start to wander on the edge of his pants. “tell me father, there must be a way..”

geto feels a bead of sweat going down his forehead. there were many times that grandparents introduced their grandchildren to him, in hopes they get married. or, when satoru would convince him to agree to a blind date. his answer of rejection was always the same. 

‘i am devoted to the man above, i musn’t be distracted.’ 

where was his reasoning of rejection when he watches you pull both his pants and undergarments off? 

you grab his dick and painfully slowly lick the tip of it. leaving any pre-cum on his tip, now in your mouth. a slight moan leaves his mouth. this was a pleasure that he’s never experienced before. devoting all 24 years of his life to God has never brought this much fulfilment. 

where was his reasoning of rejection when you put his whole dick in your mouth without any hesitation?

your sudden move of deep throating him caught him off guard. he’s now holding your head in a gentle manner, as gentle as he can be. geto is lost at words, he can only moan uncontrollably while playing with your hair. the only thing he can fixate his eyes on was your beautiful hair getting tangled into his fingers. 

where was his reasoning when you made him finish in under five minutes even though it felt like an eternity for him?

you continue to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks for a better suction. your hands wander down to his balls, giving it a small massage. you're not sure what you did right, but it worked. geto was now praising your name instead of the lord’s. he feels an unfamiliar knot unwinding itself. 

“y/n.. please i feel..” he lets out a breathy moan instead of finishing his sentence. his eyes shut close to full enjoy the euphoric feeling. why did he want to reject your advances in the first place? he can't seem to remember. 

“father..” you cooed while taking off his shirt. of course, the hot pastor with a big dick was also very nicely built.

“oh geto, why do you hide this from me?”

your hands wander his chest then it starts to follow his happy trail. your movement was haltered when he reached out for your chest.

“the same could be said for yourself. show yourself to me, please. i beg.”

his eyes looked like a puppy who had been kicked. there was no sane woman in the world who would say no to his violet eyes. your hand then reaches out for his, and then place his hand on the hem of your shirt.

“take it off for me, father geto.”

being enchanted with your hypnotic gaze, it drew him like a moth to a flame. he lifted your shirt, taking your bra off as well, and stared with admiration. you had an art of seduction that was compared to no other. he watches you sit on his lap as you lift your skirt. 

this is sin. he was sinning. 

but he didn’t stop you as you sat slowly onto his dick, moaning in joy. he watches you go up and down painfully slow.

“c-can you go a little faster..?“ he moaned into your ear. being too embarrassed by his request, he buries himself on the side of your neck. taking in your scent, leaving small pecks on the spots you sprayed perfume. 

“you’re t-too big geto~” you whined into his ear before you attached your lips onto his. 

he was an inexperienced kisser. an inexperienced everything actually. it was easy for you to take the lead by biting onto his bottom lip. he opened his mouth to let out a small whine of pain and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue in. 

you feel yourself juices slide down your thigh onto geto’s lap as you continue to bounce on his dick. large hands start groping your ass, giving you a smack on one of your cheeks. you yelp in response. it was unexpected from a priest.

“father, use me. be as rough as you want with me.” your hands start undoing his bun, turning his hair into a disheveled mess. 

“i-i shouldn't be so mmm- rough on you.” 

you felt honored by his insistence on being so gentle. his grip on your waist tells you a different story. it was obvious he wanted to go faster than the pace you set.

“please geto, for me at least.”

oh, how could he ever deny your requests? 

his grip on your waist tightens as he lifts you up and rams into you. all pent up sexual frustrations he’s ever had in the past 24 years are being taken out on you. throughout the heavens and earth, you were his only sole purpose in life. the way you took him in so good without any complaints was proof enough. 

marks form on his shoulder and back from the scratches you were leaving. it was the only way you could hold yourself up. if not, you’d fall right into his arms while he’d continue to show no mercy on your pussy. 

geto was starting to feel what he felt earlier when you were in between his legs. his eyes gaze at yours, and gets a site he’d never unsee. small tears started forming, threatening to leave your eyes. your mouth agape as one hand held onto his shoulder, the other groping yourself.

“father geto, i-i’m ahh, i’m so close~”

on sync, the both of you came at the very same time.

geto found it more ironic than disgust when he saw the scene unfold. priest of six years, never had a temptation once in those six years. his lap was now covered in cum from not only his but the new girl in town. the new girl who easily seduced him

“forgive us lord, for the father and i have sinned.” you purred right into his ear, almost biting it. 

he massages your waist before finally putting you on your two feet. you're barely able to stand up without the support of the wall.

"y/n, we can never do this again. never speak to me unless it's about my sermon."

now it was his turn to leave before you could get a word in. he pulls his pants up and swiftly puts his shirt back on.

"you were sent by the devil, and i've failed my lord. stay far away from me you whore."