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#writers block kinda kicked my ass this week
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I can't think of a title for these clone wars headcanons
Ahsoka does this thing that never fails to get a laugh out of the people around her and it’s the fact that she calls herself an angel whenever someone calls her out for doing something bad or reminds her of something she’s done she’ll look around before going “Who me? I’m an angel”
Which has the whole group bent over laughing hysterically sometimes they’re able to choke out a sentence that sounds like “Jedi aren’t supposed to lie” or something along those lines 
So I’ve had this idea for a while but I feel like something along the lines of sign language would be necessary for the troops to know if they’re on a stealth mission 
And even tho the Jedi don’t need to sign with each other it’s kind of common practice for them to learn some to communicate with the troops
Some signs can differ from troop to troop but they’re close enough that they’re easy to understand and it’s very rare that the other troop will get confused 
Sometimes those signs will leak off the field and into their day-to-day lives most of the time the troops will use signs to be kind to their Jedi who have migraines after a difficult battle but the signs are used the most around Anakin
I feel like it would be pretty easy for Jedi to get overstimulated especially if they’re as powerful as Anakin so it’s not uncommon for him to go nonverbal after a battle or if he’s in a force rich place
If he’s only kind of overwhelmed he’ll use Ahsoka and Obi-Wan as his interpreters and talk through their bonds but sometimes even that is too much so signs like “please” “thank you” “sorry” “hungry” “thirsty” “more” or “I’m okay” become pretty commonplace
It’s not enough to hold an in-depth conversation but that usually works in Anakin’s favor because drawn-out conversations tend to make him nonverbal for longer periods
When Anakin Ahsoka and Obi-Wan are stressed it shows up when they’re asleep 
Anakin sleep talks whenever he’s even slightly worried about something he’s woken poor Ahsoka and Obi-Wan up more times than the duo can count by saying stuff like “Hey hey are you awake?” while he’s out like a light
It freaks the duo out because he’s weirdly eloquent in his sleep bro is holding entire conversations do those conversations make sense to anyone but him? No but they’re conversations nonetheless
Ahsoka sleepwalks it doesn’t matter what happens during the day if it even slightly stresses her out she’s up and out of bed the second she’s slightly asleep it scared the force out of Anakin the first time she sleepwalked in their quarters because she was just standing over him menacingly 
The first time Obi-Wan was introduced to Ahsoka’s sleepwalking was during a sleepover that the trio was having and he had just drifted off to sleep when he heard the buzz of two lightsabers in the other room
Both he and Anakin walked into the kitchen to find Ahsoka standing with her sabers activated she wasn’t in a fighting stance by any means so they could easily disarm her but all Anakin did was ask “You want water snips?” and she nodded while holding out her sabers which he easily grabbed
Only after Ahsoka had a nice glass of water and laid back down did Obi-Wan ask questions the main one being “Is that normal?” and Anakins replies “Well the sabers are new” like someone talking about the weather 
It wasn’t until morning that the trio discovered Anakin and Ahsoka’s kitchen table was cut in half the togruta was incredibly apologetic but Anakin was just impressed that she managed to do it without waking them
Normally Obi-Wan snores like a lawn mower but when he’s stressed he grinds his teeth the real kicker is he grinds them so hard that it’s just as loud as the snoring and the only difference is the poor man wakes up with a sore locked jaw
One time Anakin heard a shiny say that they could never tell what Ahsoka was thinking and the other commented that she’s “like a vault” which had him doubled over in almost painful laughter 
When one of them finally gained the courage to ask him what was so funny he just said “If you wanna know what she’s thinking look at her face” and he’s not wrong girly has the most expressive face it’s like looking at glass
But the people who love her hope that trait never changes cause there’s nothing quite like seeing her face twist as she has to talk to some dirtbag or light up when she gets a compliment 
Recently I got some ideas when it comes to Clone Wars characters and baking
Anakin is one of the best damn cooks in the galaxy he’s also really good at making a meal out of virtually nothing it’s scary impressive but on the other hand the man can’t bake for shit
Cause with cooking measurements aren’t really needed in fact on Tatooine people would scoff if you asked for them but it’s kind of the opposite for baking unless you’ve been doing it for a very long time
So Anakin “Just pour it until it looks good” Skywalker hates baking with a burning passion which is funny because he’s got a sweet tooth the size of a gundark
Ahsoka’s only really used to cooking by Anakin’s side which results in her only really remembering half the recipe like girl can mince like no one else but she can’t make a full dish without calling Anakin to ask for help 
But baking is where this girl thrives she loves to bake and try new recipes which works out because Anakin’s the human equivalent of a garbage disposal with the aforementioned sweet tooth
Cody is pretty proficient at cooking and baking he doesn’t do anything fancy and he doesn’t really like doing either he mostly learned out of necessity cause
Obi-Wan and Rex can’t cook or bake for shit and they’re perfectly fine with that fact like they’re a-ok with living off government rations if it means they never have to step foot in a kitchen 
Padme sweet angel lovely girl thinks she can cook and bake can she….. No
But the thing is she tries so hard and puts her whole heart and soul into her cooking and baking so everyone tries to act like she can it’s the galaxies best kept secret and it’s one that everyone’s happy to keep
There was one time when that secret was almost spilled on Ahsoka’s birthday when Padme offered to make her cake and no one could warn the poor girl cause that would spoil the surprise party
All Anakin could do to rectify the situation was buy a cake from his and Ahsoka’s favorite bakery and hide it in their quarters after the party
During the actual party Anakin pulled her off to the side to warn her just before the cake could be brought out and from an outsider's perspective it looked like a sweet moment between the siblings 
But in actuality all was going on this “Soka you know how you said I was the best master you could ask for” “Yes I said it when I first walked in are you finally going senile” “Well remember all that love when I ask you for the biggest favor” “which is?” “Padme made your cake” “No” “And I need you to act like you love it” “Anakin please if you love me at all” “If you love me you’ll eat the cake and tell her you love it and once the parties over you’ll get to eat your favorite cake in the whole wide world”
And they kind of just sit there and Anakin swears a few tears fall before Ahsoka says “Fine” and he hugs the everloving force out of her before they walk over to eat a slice of the galaxy's prettiest abomination 
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nervouseden · 4 months
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God Among Men.
Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader
Summary: After a stressful mission, your super soldier boyfriend needs you... This is literal trash. I apologize.
Warnings: SMUT. Brief mention of religious stuff. Worshipping. Misuse of religious terms. Collar and leash (it's really only mentioned like once or twice). Gender neutral reader. Blowjob. Face fucking. Finger sucking. Bucky Barnes (he's a warning). Metal arm (kink). A tad bit of hair pulling. Rough blowjob. Reader isn't the best at communicating. Praise. Some brief degradation. Voice kink (because who couldn't love that sweet baritone?). Brief mention of Shuri and Wakanda. Sir kink. Tears. Choking (from bj). Deep throating. Dom Bucky. Sub reader. Bucky's kinda rough. But also super sweet and concerned. Use of safe signal(?) like a safe word but nonverbal. Brief after care. Loosely Implied fingering/penetration afterwards. Like zero plot. Porn without Plot/Plot? What plot? Mildly dubious consent (not really, but I just want to be safe with my warnings!)
Please comment if you think I missed anything!
A/N: This is like my second or third time writing actual smut, please give me grace— Also I had this idea while sleep deprived and I'm currently stuck in artists/writers block so it's probably not my best work. But, I tried. This was written on my phone and not proofread, so I do apologize for any and all mistakes/typos.
A/N #2: I have absolutely nothing against any religions or religious people, and this is not meant to offend or target anybody in any way, shape, or form!
I do not own any characters mentioned in this story or the gif.
Dividers by @cafekitsune
18+!!! MINORS AND PEARL CLUTCHERS PLEASE DNI!!!
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You were never a very religious person, having loose beliefs that you didn't necessarily align with anything specific, and you were fine with that, but that all changed one day, and in the way you least expected it. The day you first hooked up with Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes, or, as you knew him, Bucky, your best friend. You swear that night you might've been to Heaven, or Valhalla, or maybe even reached Nirvana, but whatever it was, it was caused by the super soldier Avenger fucking you into oblivion, with a godly body and otherworldly skills. Not only does he look like some mythical god, but he has the skills and the strength of one too. A god among men.
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Bucky is a complicated man; He doesn't talk much, but once you get him going, he could talk to you for hours. He is tall and broad, dark and brooding, with a glare that could kill, but also sweet and soft, caring and considerate, with a smile that makes you weak in the knees... So, when your relationship evolved into something sexual, it wasn't a surprise when his prowess matched his godly looks. His quick wit matched by his skilled tongue. Strong hands matched with his (surprisingly) nimble fingers. He's also a kinky mother fucker.
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Today, after Bucky got back from a rough, week long mission, apparently most of the team getting their asses kicked, you found yourself on your knees in front of him, naked, wearing nothing back a black leather collar and a silver chainlink leash, your head resting on his lap as he gently pets your cheek with his flesh hand.
"Doll," Bucky's voice is low, lower than usual, and it sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, shocking your core.
"Yes, sir?" Your voice is soft, quiet, and shaky, a mix of nervousness, arousal, and hours of teasing from this man, this god, making you weak, your voice a minute version of it's usual sound, making Bucky chuckle.
You look up at him through heavy eyelids, your eyes raking up his body hungrily; He's wearing black sweatpants, no shirt, and you're not entirely sure about boxers. His long hair is tousled, the dark locks resting on his broad shoulders, the otherworldly muscles rippling under his skin covered in scars, his normally bright blue eyes darkened to an almost eerie tungsten blue. He's a literal god. The epitome of divinity.
"You've been so good~" Bucky practically purrs, and you already feel your abdomen tightening. "But not good enough."
Well shit.
You're definitely not getting what you want tonight.
"Talk to me, Kätzchen. Tell me what you're thinkin' about." You hesitate, but you know better than to directly disobey.
"I..." You look down, biting your lip. "I was thinking about you... H-How beautiful you are, James..."
Bucky smirks. This wasn't what he was expecting. "Oh?"
You simply nod. "Do elaborate, Kätzchen." Bucky quirks a brow, and you fight the urge to squirm in embarrassment.
"Y-You..." You sigh, deciding to bite the bullet. What's the worst that could happen? He laughs at you and uses it against you? That'd suck... but it would be a lot worse if you didn't speak. Those are always back. You don't want another spanking...and definitely not the crop. Yeah, no, that'd be bad. Better spit it out.
"You're fuckin' beautiful..." You practically whimper, and Bucky smirks.
"I know you've got more than that, sweetness." Bucky teases, and you know he's right. He's always right... It's unfair. How can a man possibly be so attractive and smart? You're starting to think he might actually be a higher power. "C'mon, doll, don't make me hit it outta ya."
Shit. That's a threat. "You're... You're a god among men, Sir... Divinity in itself... Crafted from the finest of marbles known to man... I want to submit everything I have to you."
Bucky simply smirks.
Uh oh.
"Is that so, Kätzchen?" You swallow hard, nodding, watching his eyes stare into yours with an intensity that could burn you to the ground. Yup. Definitely a god.
"Y-Yes, Sir... I... You are my god, James..." Oops. Normally Bucky doesn't take kindly to being called his name during scenes, but for some reason, he just smirks and lets it slide. That's different.
"I want my body to be your altar, your temple, your church... I am your devotee..." You whisper softly, your voice shaky and almost nervous, scared, although you're unsure what you're scared of.
"Darling..." Bucky growls, his pupils dilated so much you can barely see the ring of blue, his vibranium hand clenching on lap, his breathing picking up, that beautiful, chiseled chest rising and falling faster by the second, sweat starting to bead on his skin... You did that?
"You have such pretty lips, yet such nasty words..."
Bucky's Vibranium hand moves to the back of your neck suddenly, grabbing you by the nape of it, pushing your face into his clothed crotch, allowing you to feel the feverish heat, the wet spot on his sweats, and the rock that is his cock. "I'm not gonna last long if you keep sayin' shit like that, doll."
You whimper. Loudly. Pathetically. Lewdly. What the fuck else are you supposed to do? You just mentally brought THE Sargeant James Barnes to his knees from just a few sentences, you don't know whether to be terrified or proud... But, either way, you're not given much time to decipher how you feel, as Bucky starts to rub the side of your cheek against his strained length, the rough cotton of his sweatpants irritating your sweat shined cheeks.
"You're gonna be a good little devotee. You're gonna listen, you're gonna do as told, and you're gonna take what I give you, like a good cock slut."
Bucky's voice is a deep, dangerous growl, the sound rumbling through his chest, rolling down his abdomen and vibrating through him and into you, shooting electricity through your body, your nerves immediately on fire, your thighs quaking, your mind reeling into the abyss of lust.
"Aren't you, Kätzchen?" Bucky says with a groan, looking at you expectantly, a dark smirk on his face.
"Y-Yes, Sir... I will... I'll b-be good..." You whimper out, look up at him with doe eyes, fighting the urge to look down as he slides his sweatpants to his ankles, tossing them aside.
Bucky gently cups your chin with his vibranium hand, the dark metal shining in the dimly lit room as he puts his thumb against your lips, grinning at the feeling. "Open."
You immediately do as told, parting your lips, slowly swirling your warm tongue around his thumb as he slides the cool metal into your mouth, causing Bucky to groan sorry... It's moments like these when Bucky is most grateful to Shuri for creating touch sensors in the arm, allowing him to feel everything you do to his Vibranium arm... Wakandan technology truly is incredible.
"That's a good little whore..." Bucky groans as he uses his thumb in your mouth to tilt your head down, your eyes widening as they meet the sight of Bucky's cock.
Huh. He wasn't wearing any boxers.
"Let this be your first sacrament, devotee." Bucky chuckled.
Long. Impressive. Intimidating. Yet another reason you're starting to think he might actually be a god. No matter how many times you see it, swallow it, and take it, it's always just as intimidating as the first time. His cock is tall, curving slightly as it goes up, getting redder until it gets to the almost purple tip, your hand barely able to wrap around the girth, one large vein going from the shaft to the tip, where creamy pre-cum is beading. You might as well be salivating...and shaking in fear.
"C'mon, doll, I know you can take it." Bucky purred, wrapping his vibranium hand in your hair, guiding your face to rub against his length. It's almost humiliating. But it's also beyond arousing.
"Yes, sir." You mutter softly, licking your lips, raising your head when Bucky loosens his grip on your hair. You spit on the head of Bucky's cock, causing it to twitch where it stands, before gently wrapping your mouth around the tip, your tongue swirling around the tip, teasing the slit, causing Bucky to groan.
"Your god is losing patience, Kätzchen." Bucky growls, before tightening his vibranium hand in your hair, violently pushing your head down his cock, his length forcefully sliding down your velvety throat, only stopping when your nose is flush with his pelvic bone, groaning as he revels in the feeling, hissing as his head falls back in pleasure. "Shiiiit— So warm, Kätzchen...like fuckin' silk, doll..."
To nobody's surprise, you choke, choke hard, coughing around Bucky's member, who simply enjoys the way your throat constricts when you do so. Tears quickly form, as you try to focus on relaxing your throat and taking deep breaths in through your nose, but are quickly cut off as Bucky pulls your hair back, sliding your mouth off his length before pushing your head back down.
"Fuckin' perfect... gorgeous little devotee..." Bucky groans, starting to roll his hips as he continues to roughly guide your head up and down his cock, face fucking you as you cry and choke. Yup. You definitely fucked up calling him James.
Bucky had been tense since he texted you from the Quinjet, so when he starts to throb in your mouth rather than usual, you're not necessarily surprised, that mission really took a toll on him. You hollow your cheeks, and start gently scraping your teeth against Bucky's length as he continues to thrust into your face, his balls slapping against your chin with every snap of his strong hips.
"That's it, Kätzchen, worship me, your fuckin' god-"
Fuck, you were dizzy.
Your eyes start to roll back, head feeling fuzzy, your body seeming heavier, the restricted intake of oxygen starting to get to you, as more tears fall, but being the absolute bitch you are for Bucky, you're determined to make him cum before taking a breather.
"C'mon, babydoll, I'm so close... Lemme cum in your pretty little mouth... Let me desecrate the perfect altar that is you..." He groans, his hips snapping harder, shuddering at your teeth scraping his skin, only to be soothed by your hollowed cheeks and hot throat.
Your vision was starting to get fuzzy around the edges, but you still didn't communicate your need to breathe... Instead, you move your hands up to cup his heavy balls, massaging them roughly as you suck harder at his length.
That was all it took.
"Fuck!"
Bucky growls, the sound dark and primal, sending jolts of pleasure to your deprived body, his flesh hand joining his vibranium one in your hair, holding you uncomfortably flush to his skin as his cock throbs, pulsing rapidly as rope after rope of hot cum spills down your throat, your hands still massaging his balls as they empty into you, your muscles working overtime to swallow it all... Since being with him, you found that super soldiers have loads like damn fire hydrants. Not that you're complaining. Usually.
"Baby... Ughhh—" You had expected Bucky to pull you off his cock once he finished, but he didn't, instead he held you flat to his pelvis, basking in the feeling of your hot, velvet throat surrounding him, groaning and growling in pleasure.
You couldn't do it. Your vision was completely blurred, tears still falling, your feelings like concrete, sweat pouring down you, your mind fogged like shower glass. You take your right hand, tapping your index, middle, and ring finger on his thigh three consecutive times.
He immediately pulls your head off his length, pulling you up to his lap as you cough and suck in heavy breaths.
"Doll? Doll, are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Bucky asks hurriedly, his vibranium hand holding you close to him and rubbing your back, while his flesh hand gently holds your face. "Darling, can you hear me? Are you okay?"
It takes you a few moments to process his words, as they sounded more like mumbles from underwater at first. But, as your vision cleared, your tears stopped, the fogginess left your mind, and your breathing started regulating, you finally registered his words and nodded yes. "Y-Yeah... I- I'm fine..." You murmur with a raspy voice, your throat scratchy from the rough blowjob.
Bucky sighed in relief, brushing away your tears with his flesh hand, peppering kisses on your face. "Alright..." He didn't sound too convinced, worried he hurt you, but decided to focus on cleaning you up and caring for you.
He grabbed the pack of baby wipes from the table next to the chair you two are on, taking one out, gently wiping your flushed face clean of the saliva, sweat, cum, and tears. He then opened a bottle of water, gently holding it to your lips. "Have some water, baby." He murmurs as he helps you take small sips, putting it down after about ¼ of the bottle is gone.
"There you go, Kätzchen...You did so good, I'm so damn proud of you, love." Bucky praised softly, pulling you closer to his chest and rocking side to side gently.
"Th-Thank you..." You murmur quietly, your voice still a little raspy, as you tuck your head in Bucky's neck, your sweat covered bodies moulding together, as Bucky's flesh hand slowly creeps down to your sex. "Time for your reward."
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brackishkittie · 1 year
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yeah it's still september but it's halloween time for me sooo
walking through a haunted house with abby and getting scared and clinging onto her every five minutes. her laughing and comforting you throughout the house and at the end ✨treats you✨ for being so brave🤭
in for it, abby anderson
— abby anderson x black!reader
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synopsis: basically the request. 😭😭
c/n: just nastyyyy bro, car sex, fingering ( r!receiving ), pet names ( baby, babe, doll, sweet girl ), clit slapping, edging, and oral ( r!receiving ).
a/n: this was supposed to come out weeks ago but writers block kicked me in my ass omfg…
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layout creds: @nysrage ( go check her out, her work is amazing btw. 🤭🤭 )
word count: 1.6k
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it’s october and a cool festival opens up every year for everyone to go to, so you and abby decide to go since you guys already go there as if it’s a tradition. after doing mostly everything in eachother’s lines of sight, abby looks at the new haunted house they opened up and her eyes just light up like a little kid looking at a candy store. “babe look! they opened up the haunted house.” she smiles wildly as she looks back at you. abby knew you liked scary shit, but you had your limits and haunted houses were one of them. you feel a frown spread across your face when you saw it.
“ohh!!…abs are you sure you can handle it?” you ask hesitantly, trying to kinda sway her away from it for now. “..yeah?? why do you think I’m trying to get inside of it?” she grabs your hand when you say nothing and walks you over to the line. “I know you not getting sassy with me abby..” you squint at her but she doesn’t take you seriously. “oh you do NOT wanna see sassy.” she laughs and you just roll your eyes. you guys talk half of the waiting time and before you know it, you’re at the front of the line. “enjoy the house!” the employee smiles at you two and lets you both in. not even 5 minutes of being inside of the house, you cling onto abby’s arm. “jeez..and you were asking me if I can handle it?” she laughs and looks around in awe, “these people need a raise, look at how much effort they put! the little ugly dolls are looking at me funny.” she says as she gets a good look at them. you guys don’t even realize that a person in a realistic ass zombie costume was sneaking up behind you guys because when you two turned around? all hell broke loose the way you screamed bloody murder.
“holy shit..YOUR FACE WAS PRICELESS!” abby starts laughing at you at you and you just frown again, “that’s not funny.” you sigh and look around again, hoping that whatever the fuck that thing was wouldn’t pop up again and scare you. “I’m sorry babe, but look, if you can make it through the rest of this house, I’ll reward you at the end. got it?” she wraps an arm around you and you cling onto her once again. she places a reassuring kiss right on your forehead and leads you through the house once more. “they put too much detail into this place..I don’t like it one bit…” you say while your grip on abby gets even tighter. “baby it’s ok, I got you. remember that none of this is actually real so you’ll be ok. I promise.” abby smiles at you and you just stay quiet, you didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath. “how much more longer do we have in here?” you whine, “not that long baby, cmon you can do it. none of this is real.”
you were ok for awhile, trying your best to keep your cool but the feeling of being watched made your stomach do flips and turns. the only thing that kept you at bay was the fact that you were holding onto your girlfriend, abby. “abby I really don’t like this.” you utter, still looking over your shoulder every now and then. “you’re a brave girl, aren’t you? we’re almost out baby.” she rubs your shoulder and you relax, you don’t feel as tense anymore and not even 5 minutes later, you guys finally make it out of that horrible place. “seeee?? no need to be scared, we made it out in one piece.” abby shoves you playfully while laughing at the face you made in return, “remind me to never ever come with you to a haunted house again..” you cross your arms and abby kisses your forehead once again. “who are you gonna cling onto then, hm?” you paused, she was right but you kissed your teeth, “whatever..let’s just get in the car, they’re gonna close soon and it’s pretty late.” you say to her, she nods and wraps an arm around your waist while you two walk back to your shared car.
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“mmfgh— fuck!” you moan out, her fingers deep inside of you, while her tongue skillfully attacks your clit. her eyes never coming off of you, she’s been thinking about getting you like this for atleast half of the whole night. the way you clung onto her, the way your body pressed up against her, the way you just had her head spinning. she was so proud of you, her brave girl going through a haunted house with her and now she just wants to reward you. “abbyyyy..fuck- too much…” you whine, gripping her hair even tighter and bucking your hips, “you can take it, baby, I know you can..cmon doll, you’re brave aren’t you?” she says while she’s still ramming her fingers in and out of you, driving you absolutely nuts. you try to move back but she pulls you back by wrapping a strong arm around your leg, “don’t fucking run.” she mutters. her eyes darkening as she said it, abby looked feral. she slapped your clit and you flinched, biting the inside of your cheek. your clit was so sensitive from all the stimulation and she was aware of that. very aware. abby pulls her fingers out and shoved them into your mouth. “be a good girl and stay still. I won’t tell you again.” you nod and she takes her fingers out of your mouth.
abby slowly rubs at your clit with her thumb, holding and squeezing your left thigh with her hand while she’s holding eye contact with you again. she started rubbing your clit faster and your breathing hitched. “a-abby please it’s too much!” your back arches as you grasp at her arm for support and try to push her away, “so fuckin’ disobedient..” she groans and slaps at your clit again. she shoves her fingers back inside of you and her mouth latches back onto your clit, her tongue swirling around your bud and sucking harder than before, “abby I’m gonna fucking cum! fuckkk!” your hips buck again and as soon as you feel like your gonna cum, abby completely stops. “you can’t cum yet. you didn’t listen, so now you gotta beg for it baby.” she smirks, “sit up and get on my lap.” she pats her leg and you move onto her, and as soon as you did, she pulls your shirt off and immediately starts groping and sucking at your tits. abby looked feral, the way her hand moved down to smack your ass and make its way back over to your ache, she was all over you. as she starts fingering you again, she kisses you sloppily, your lipgloss smudging as she kisses you, and runny mascara tears rolling down your face.
“abby pleaseeee- oh fuck!” you moan out, feeling yourself reaching your high again, “you wanna cum baby? hm?” she slurs, and all you can do is nod as her half-lidded eyes watch you lose yourself from her just shoving her fingers in and out of you. “abby please let me cum..it’s too muchhhh!!” your hand grips at her shoulder and your eyes roll back from all of the stimulation. “go on sweet girl. go ahead and cum for me baby.” abby starts kissing and sucking at your neck while pinching at your sensitive nipples. the stimulation was sending you insane at this point. you look disheveled and completely drained, “I know baby, it’s okay. you’re almost there.” you felt your vision get blurry and your legs go numb as you cummed all over abby’s fingers. “such a good girl. I’ll clean up and get you something to eat on the way okay?..but first maybe get some clothes on because I may have forgotten that we’re in a parking lot…”
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tags: @vnus-starr @mariefilms @machetegirl109 🤎
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vankaywie · 23 days
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pairings : bigby wolf x gn!reader
tags : fluff , stinky bigby , uh I don't know
summary : helping bigby groom himself !!
an : SOMEONE REQUESTED I SHOULD MAKE A FLUFF OR A SMUT FIC OF BIGBY BUT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT !!! also hiii, i am so sorry if I haven't been posting for so long, i had a writers block and basically lost motivation to do anything. i sincerely apologise😭 sorry if this is inaccurate bigby, i haven't played twau in a while and my memory sucks. also sorry if this isnt smut, i kinda wanted to do fluff... (theres an unfinished bigby smut in my notes) ANOTHER APOLOGY!! sorry if this sucks because i just wrote this and it's currently 4am..
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you've noticed bigby has been itching his chin alot, he was probably getting uncomfortable on how long his messy stubble is. bigby has been incredibly busy these past few weeks so his hygiene was... a mess. so you took it upon yourself and decided to help him.
bigby comes home exhausted, immediately sitting on the couch to relax... he didn't even realise you were sitting next to him. "oh fuck—" he flinches slightly. "I didn't see you there, bub.."
a frown forms on your face. "bigby... you stink."
he raises a brow. "i am?" he sniffs himself.. good god that stench. "fuck—"
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you forced bigby to take a bath, helping him wash his hair and his back, using your cherry blossom shampoo on him and your lovely soap so for once he'd smell nice. after that, you let bigby dry himself with a towel as you look for the razor.
"you're not going to shave all my stubble off, are you?" bigby chuckles, towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still soaking wet.
"oh, i will if you don't dry your hair and then get your ass on this chair." you threaten him.
he grumbles, drying his hair with a towel and sitting down on the chair infront of you. grabbing the cheap electric razor on the sink, turning it on. you gently hold bigby's chin, turning his head on an angle so you can start trimming his stubble. as you trim him, he looks at your face, admiring you.
your cheeks flushes as you feel his gaze. "don't stare..." you whisper, making him grin.
"and why shouldn't i?"
"it's distracting.."
finally, you were done. he checks himself on the mirror, satisfied at the results. "nice one, doll."
you smiled softly, putting the chair and the razor away. "thanks, bub. I've also washed some of your clothes, they're probably dry by now so you can wear 'em."
he placed a hand at the back of your head, slowly pulling you closer to place a kiss on your forehead. "you're the best."
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bigby decided to have a drink at holly's bar, the trip trap bar. he was extremely stressed. but then grendell's ass started bitching at bigby, ranting about how much of an asshole bigby is... but then... "and that bitch [name] looking right pass me, then ushering me out the fuckin' door. who do they think they are to fuckin' kick me out?!" grendell groans.
the unbothered bigby suddenly whips his head to glare at the man, quickly standing up and walking towards grendell. "i wouldn't call them that." he growls, his hazel eyes turning bright yellow, hinting his transformation. "it's happened before and it doesn't end well."
a fight begun, both grendell and bigby transforming, beating the hell out of each others. bigby was clawing at grendell's back, and grendell was trying to shake him off. eventually, grendell threw bigby across the room, the wolf crashing down at the tables and chairs at the corner. "fuckin' pause!" grendell yells, panting.
bigby growls, sitting up from the floor and glared at the monster infront of him. "what?"
"why the fuck do you smell like flowers and shits?!—"
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morerandombullshit · 6 months
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Deserve (Vergil x f!Reader)
Rating: 18+ (MDNI but not like that stopped you guys anyway)
Pairing: Vergil x f!Reader
Summary: You finally left your abusive ex for good over him cheating on you, but it's still weighing on you. Vergil finds out and decides to comfort you in the only way he really knows how to comfort another person.
CW: Cheating, implied abuse, slightly angsty, bit of hurt/comfort, comfort sex (kinda??), unprotected sex (DO NOT TRY AT HOME) oral (f!rieceiving), face-sitting, consent, begging (only if you squint), creampies, slight dom/sub dynamics (or it's not slight idrk), dom Vergil/sub Reader, praise, degradation (just a little sprinkling only if you squint i promise), slight edging (ok maybe not so slight aha), clothes-ripping, semi-monster sex, aftercare pet names used: darling, sweetheart, pretty girl, perfect girl, good girl, my love, mine
Word count: 4573 (i totally didn't get too into this fic, no i didn't)
Note: I don't even fucking know how I came up with this idea (guess I was scrolling through too much DMC Boys x Reader smut and shit but oh well I have zero regrets), but in my notebook it's literally 18 and a quarter pages long and I was up until 2am finishing it off because I couldn't sleep and then I tried to show my best friend my writing at some point but he couldn't read my handwriting and shit (2am writing ftw, I guess)—
Anyways, enjoy this...explosion of smut, because I'm kinda on a little bit of a fluff writing kick/writer's block thing rn and idk when I'm gonna write more soooooo
Also Cameron Grey's I Want It All is basically the vibe for this oneshot, I recommend listening to it on repeat as you read— 
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Sitting on the couch at Devil May Cry, you force yourself to focus on the magazine print in front of you. It's after hours and everyone's gone home—except for you and Dante's twin, Vergil. 
Vergil's cold and intimidating presence makes you feel like a storm is approaching every time he's around. But that body, though...shit. Strong jawline, short and slicked back silvery-white hair, ice blue eyes, cherry lips, toned body, ass like it was sculpted by a fucking ethereal being...Something lights like fire low in the pit of your stomach, and you shift a bit on the couch, still trying to focus on the magazine. Footsteps sound from across the room, and as the familiar scent of storms, fresh-cut grass and sage permeates your senses, that warmth between your thighs transmutes to a light throbbing.
Vergil steps into the room and you drop your eyes to the magazine, deciding it better to ignore that feeling right now. It's always happened whenever he's around—even when you were dating your abusive ex, but you push that thought away and continue hyperfocusing on the page in front of you. You toss your feet up onto an arm of the couch, leaning your head and putting the magazine at a tilted angle in the air.
"Y/N."
You sit up a bit, dropping the magazine. Vergil's always had a cold and imperious vibe around everyone, so you have to admit you're surprised he bothers to know your name. "Shit, didn't notice you." you reply, lying and hoping he doesn't know you are. "What is it?"
He walks a bit closer to you, grabbing a chair—his usual plastic one (he has threatened murder if someone else so much breathes on it before, now that you think about it)—and sitting in it, setting the Yamato against one of its armrests and letting it lean against the white plastic. "What're you doing here so late? I'd have thought you'd be at home right now."
At the mention of home, your stomach churns with nausea—the week before, you'd moved your stuff out of the apartment you had shared with your ex, and you're still trying to find a new place to live. Dante—after you begrudgingly told him why you were looking for a new place to live—said you could stay in Devil May Cry for as long as you need. 
Vergil doesn't know, though. But something in you wants to tell him, so you take a breath in and say, "I'm...between homes right now. Dante said I could stay here for as long as I need, and it's a better option than the streets."
"Would you mind if I asked why you're between homes at the moment?" he asks you, and you hear his voice sound less...cold for a moment. "Uh...my abusive ex cheated and I was sharing an apartment with him. Couldn't stand to live there after all the shit he pulled."
Your eyes have been trained to your boots the whole time but you look up, but you look up at Vergil and see the ice blue eyes blazing—a surefire sign he might go Devil Trigger. And for some reason, that makes the throbbing between your thighs more apparent, and harder to ignore. You shift your weight on the couch, trying to do it subtly enough that he doesn't notice—but knowing how shitty your luck is, he does. Vergil raises an eyebrow at you, and you regret all your fucking life decisions. "Something wrong?" he asks.
Oh, nothing. Just the fact that you're somehow turning me the fuck on, you think to yourself before clearing your throat and replying with, "No."
"You're always clearing your throat before you speak a lie." he says, and your brow furrows. His voice imperceptibly softens at the next thing he says. "It's...cute, in a way."
You cough a bit, startled by his sudden statement. "What?"
"It is." Vergil leans forward in his chair, a little closer to the couch you're sitting on. "But I have to wonder...what is wrong?"
You shrug, resisting the urge to clear your throat again. "Wanted to shift my position on the couch—it was getting uncomfortable sitting in one position for that long."
"Hm." he replies, his ice blue eyes boring into yours, making that already noticeable throb between your thighs even more unbearable to hide. A taut tension blankets over the two of you, and your tongue swipes out to lick your lips. Vergil's eyes drop to your lips instantly, and that taut tension becomes even more taut, if that's possible.
You drop your gaze to the ground, but your eyes snag on a growing bulge tightening the black leather of his pants, which causes your mouth to go bone dry, causing you to lick your lips again. As quickly as you had noticed his cock growing harder through his pants, you drop your gaze to its intended destination—the floor—and try to forget you ever saw it. 
That taut tension between you and Vergil continues, neither of you talking. His gaze locked on your lips, yours locked on the ground—though seeing how his cock had strained against his pants is at the forefront of your mind, and that throbbing between your thighs becomes mildly painful. It's an effort not to wince, an effort to not press your hands so tightly together you might break a few bones. 
"Y/N." Vergil says, his voice a little lower and rougher than before, his breath hitting your ear. When the hell did he move?,  you wonder to yourself before realizing, Oh, wait. He's half-demon. 
"Yeah." you mutter as a form of response, since your mind's more focused on how close he is to you right now—the distance between your bodies only inches apart, which makes that throbbing between your thighs even worse. "Tell me what's wrong," he murmurs, his breath still hitting your ear as he uses one hand to tilt your chin up towards his face. "And tell me how to make it better."
Other than the fact that you're so turned on you almost can't see straight, something you'd never tell him even if your life depended on it, there's an...emptiness. Having dated your abusive ex for so long before you ended it because you'd found him with his face between the thighs of some girl you didn't recognize has left a bigger toll on you for the past week, more than you care to admit. "I was living with my abusive ex. A week ago, I caught him eating some other girl out, and I decided I wasn't taking the abuse anymore, so..."
Vergil's eyes flash slightly, and for a moment, you think he's going to go Devil Trigger, but he doesn't—only that kernel of demonic power lies in his eyes, a show of his rage. "I will fucking hunt him down and end him. Slowly," he says, voice taking on a slight and low snarling quality in his anger. And you don't know if you've ever heard him curse before, but the throbbing between your thighs intensifies when you hear it. "Did he hurt you?"
It takes you a moment to respond to that, unsure of how to do it for fear of what he's going to do, but you reply with, "Yes."
"He never fucking deserved you." he says matter of factly, his voice still taking on that slight, low snarling quality. "You're better off without him."
"I know." you sigh. "But abusers tend to manipulate their victims. And I hate how I agreed to move in with him a month into our relationship. Should've realized it was of him—"
Your words get cut off when Vergil straight up puts his mouth on yours. The kiss isn't exactly gentle, but there's a comforting quality to it behind all the pure want he's kissing you with. It takes you a second to kiss back, but once you do, you're lost in it. God, the feeling of Vergil's mouth pressing against your has been chasing your dreams for so long now, maybe even you first met him or your first day at Devil May Cry—your mind and body keep wanting more more more as that throbbing between your thighs starts to ache, causing you to let out an unbidden whine into his mouth. 
He pulls away again, and you almost whine again, hating the loss of contact as you resist the urge to rub your thighs together. His breath and yours are mingling, both of you panting slightly. "You have no fucking idea how I've wanted to do that." Vergil murmurs, voice rougher than usual. "No fucking idea of the things I want to do to you."
A breathless sound is your only reply, and the hand that isn't gripping your chin falls to your hip, and your back arches slightly as he kneads your skin through your shirt, "Let me touch you," he mumbles, burying his face into your neck and brushing his nose against your skin. "Just—let me touch you. Please." 
You're silent for a moment, and Vergil pulls back a tiny bit, making you realize he's letting you decide—letting you decide whether you want to go further or stop and forget this ever happened. He'll keep going only with a confirmation that you want this, and only if it's a yes you're sure about—he doesn't want you to be pressured. You swallow, and you see his eyes flick to the hollow of your throat, tracking the movement. "Okay." you say, pressing a hand to his chest, right above his heart. 
No sooner than the word leaves you, Vergil has his mouth right on the side of your neck, his hand dropping from your chin and going to your other hip—both hands kneading through your shirt now. You tilt your head back, a silent plea for him to keep going. A sound emerges from low in his throat—some kind of growl?—and he skims his mouth along your skin to the hollow of your throat, causing a chill of pleasure to go down your spine.
Vergil's mouth presses against the hollow of your throat, his hands still kneading your hips through your shirt, and your back arches into him, his hips settling between your thighs once you do—causing an unbidden whimper to leave your mouth. The feel of his cock, even with the barriers of his pants and yours, makes you see fucking stars. His tongue laves along the hollow of your throat, and you whimper louder this time, your senses narrowed to his tongue moving over your skin. Your head falls back even more, baring pretty much all your neck to him. 
"You taste so much better than I ever fucking dreamed you would." Vergil murmurs onto your skin, pulling on it with his teeth. You moan now, your hips uncontrollably grinding against his—eliciting a soft groan from him, and that sound only adds to the throbbing between your thighs and the desire sparking in your blood. He dips his head a bit, nibbling on more skin of your neck, and every singular throb between your thighs feels like fucking torture. Your hands are aching to touch him, aching to feel his bare skin, his mouth, his fingers, his cock...
You tentatively put your hands on Vergil's shoulders, kind of digging your nails in when he drags his teeth on your skin. His hands hook into the bottom hem of your shirt, and your breath hitches. "Can I take this off?" he murmurs against your neck, and you nod. But his hands don't move, leaving you to rub your thighs together in a need for friction and some impatience. "I need to hear you say it, darling. I need you to use your words, okay?"
You take a fractured breath in, forming  some words as you fight through the lust fogging your mind right now. "Fuck yes. Please, Vergil. Please." you mumble, so wet you might soak through your pants altogether. "Thank fuck..." he murmurs, moving one hand up to the neckline of your shirt before tugging and ripping the cotton and polyester fabric clean down the middle.
You gasp at the cool air hitting your upper half—now, your bra's the only barrier. Vergil pulls away from your neck, his eyes glazing over as he looks at your bare skin. "So fucking beautiful..." he says as his hands land back onto your hips, kneading your skin. You whine, so turned on it's hard to think of anything else. He dips his head down, teeth grazing one of the edges of your bra. 
Your hands go from digging your nails into his shoulders to tangling in his short and slicked back silvery-white hair—it's so fucking soft, and it's thicker than it looks. A low growl rumbles from deep in his throat, and his hands continue to knead into your hips, but hands feel more like claws now. "Please tell me I can keep going." His teeth still graze the edge of your bra. 
"Don't—don't stop." 
Vergil's head moves a bit to the middle of your bra, and you could've sworn his canines are now fangs as he rips your bra in two with just his teeth. Your breath stutters as your upper half is fully exposed now, the throbbing between your thighs becoming so painful that you whimper a bit. His hands leave your hips and rise to cup your now bare breasts, your breath almost stopping altogether when you see the reverence in his eyes and his body language. You feel like a fucking goddess under his scrutiny, and when his hands creep up a bit, those almost-claws drawing circles on your skin, making you into the touch as lightning bolts of pleasure spread from where he's touching you.
Your hips rolls of their own accord again, a fractured moan slipping from your mouth as you feel his cock growing harder against you. You can't think, can't form words, because of the overwhelming pressure going through you right now. Vergil groans as you do that, his head dipping and his tongue teasingly tracing one of your nipples. And fuck, that feeling...You cry out this time, breath so shallow you off-handedly wonder how the fuck you're getting oxygen. 
One of his hands goes from cupping your breast to hooking into the hem of your pants, but you don't focus on that as he flicks his tongue over your nipple again, taking it into his mouth, teeth grazing the slightest bit—
You cry out again, this time mixed in with a moan, and your hips buck into him, whimpering at the way he feels against you, even if there is the barrier of clothes. "That's it, pretty girl." Vergil murmurs against your breast. "It's me who makes you feel like this." 
A moan is your only reply. He moves a bit, straddling you slightly, every thought eddying from your mind as he rolls his hips against yours, but unlike when you had done it, it's purposeful. 
He's teasing.
Vergil raises his head to whisper into your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it and triggering a needy shudder that wracks your body. "If I were to rip these pants off of you right now, how wet would I find you, sweetheart?"
Fucking soaking. 
You can barely decipher his words through your lust-fogged haze, and every part  of you is screaming, more, more, more, but you manage to choke out, "Play later."
Your voice is breathless, the need in it so abundantly clear, but you're too lost in the pleasure to notice or even care. Vergil dips his head and kisses the skin beneath your ear, causing another needy shudder. A promise and an unleashing. "I will, perfect girl. I will. But we have a couple other things to take care of, do we not?"
Right. He still has all his clothes on. Slipping your hands from his hair, you put them on either side of his dark gray trench coat with bright turquoise coloring. "Can I take this off?" you ask, surprised at how you can function right now. A nod from Vergil. "Please."
You make quick work of his coat, fabric sighing as it drops to the floor, revealing arms that you never were so fucking toned. Amazed, you run your hands down his arms, the smooth skin and taut muscle feeling so good to touch. You hear his breath hitch and you smirk to yourself. "Y/N." he murmurs, and you know what he means—stop gawking and get to the point before he spontaneously combusts. Taking a breath in, you reply with a quiet "Okay" before unzipping the high neck of his armored black and dark slate gray tank top, revealing his bare chest to you. Just as his coat had, it falls to the floor behind him, the metal making a faint clinking sound. 
But you're too focused on greedily inventorying the fucking masterpiece that is Vergil's chest. Abs that look like they've been hewn from stone in a mountain's cliff face, pecs that aren't too big but are still hot as hell...your gaze snags on a thin dusting of white hair that disappears beneath his pants and a very defined V-line that flows beneath his pants like his happy trail does.
The only thing that leaves your mouth is a breathless "Fuck". You reach for the top of his pants, but his hand lightly catches your wrist—those almost-claws tickling your skin. "I want to taste you first." he says, his voice that low, lush growl that makes that throbbing between your thighs even more unbearable. "I want to feel you come on my fingers and tongue."
You swallow as Vergil's other hand—the one hooked into the waistband of your pants—moves down, utilizing those almost-claws and shredding the fabric straight down the middle, like he did with your shirt. His hand lightly brushes the fabric of your panties now, nearly making your heart stop. 
"Turn around and spread your legs," he says quietly, his voice still having that growly quality—but also pure dominance. "And hold onto the back of the couch. You'll need it."
Sparks of more arousal rise in your blood as you hasten to do what Vergil tells you, and a satisfied hum from behind you has you knowing you did it right. "Good girl." he says, his hand hooking into the edge of your panties. Your breathing stutters at the praise, and you're sure he smirked at that reaction from you, even if you can't see his face. He doesn't move for a moment before asking, "Do you still want this? Because I don't think I'll be able to stop after—though I'll try my damndest to."
You ponder on it for a moment, the throbbing between your thighs growing as you do, before you reply with a simple, "Yes."
A low growl rumbles in Vergil's throat before you pulls on your panties hard enough to rip them off your frame, and your breath sharpens for a moment. "So fucking beautiful..." he murmurs, nudging your legs just a bit wider with his knee before sliding a finger inside your dripping pussy. Your hands tighten on the back of the couch, your knuckles going white as you bite on your tongue to keep from screaming in pleasure. 
Vergil adds a second finger, and your pussy walls clench around him, spasming at the pleasure of being filled as he picks up a pace, starting a sort of rhythm—pumping his fingers in and out, said fingers being knuckle-deep in you. You moan, hips rocking against his hand—
"That's it." he murmurs, his voice still having that low and growly tone to it. "Ride my hand, pretty girl."
And you do, your soft moans permeating the silence broken only by the squelching of his fingers pumping in and out. After an indeterminable amount of time, Vergil's fingers slip out of you, making an obscene sound between squelching and popping—but also eliciting a whine from you. You were so close, and he had to go and do that.
But that feeling of intense, world-shattering pleasure returns when he laps at you, tongue giving you short, teasing licks all the way up to your swollen clit. And when his mouth finds that sweet, sensitive bud between your legs, and sucks on it, your hands are gripping the back of the couch so hard that you might break a couple bones. You let out an involuntary scream, and Vergil's hand gently clamps over your mouth to muffle it. 
Then his fingers go back to where they were before, his tongue swirling in a figure eight as he sucks on your overly sensitive clit, and you're so, so fucking close—
But Vergil takes your clit out of his mouth for a moment, making you squirm. "I want you to do something for me," he says, voice hoarse, still having that dominating quality to it. "Sit on my face, darling." 
"W—What?" you stutter. While you'd be glad to do what he tells you, you've never...done what he's asking you to do. The hand Vergil had gently clamped over your mouth to muffle your scream drops to your jaw as he says, "Sit on my face, perfect girl. You can't do anything wrong."
You swallow, but his reassurance has you doing as he tells you to do, feeling a little out of your comfort zone, but doing it nonetheless. When Vergil taks your clit back into his mouth and his fingers fill you again, your hands ache and you moan your loudest so far—this position hits far deeper spots than the previous one did, even if it had hit pretty deep. 
A few more passes of his tongue and pumping of his fingers has your back arching, grinding against his face as you come, his name on your lips. Vergil laps up every last drop of your orgasm before releasing your clit with a groan and saying, "Your taste is going to drive me fucking insane." 
Too winded to even speak, your hands bracing the back of the couch are your only support. Vergil's hands lift your hips slightly—a way of supporting you, you realize—and he presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh before murmuring against your skin, "You did so fucking good, sweetheart."
Your breath skips at the praise, and when your post-orgasmic bliss subsides, you mumble an incoherent reply. You hear a hum of contemplation from him and his hands knead your hips as he silently thinks something over. "Turn around and spread your legs again for me." he says. You obey almost instantly—which should be embarrassing, but you're too turned on to care—and you hear a snarl of approval behind you. Buttons being unbuttoned and zipper being undone sounds from behind you, followed by the whisper of leather dropping and boots clacking onto the floor. 
You're instantly wet and throbbing again after thinking about what's going to happen, your juices slicking down your thighs. You feel Vergil's hand grip your ass and squeeze it slightly as he asks, "Ready?"
A nearly incoherent "Please" slips from your mouth, and once it does, his cock slides inside you, all the way to the base. He's bigger—and wider—than you thought he'd be, and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to him. You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.
Now, this isn't your first time having sex, but you haven't done it for a while, and this is Vergil we're talking about here, for fuck's sake. You feel his lips graze along your spine as he murmurs, "You're so fucking tight." 
After that comment, he pulls out near to the tip and slides back into the base, which is really easy considering how soaked you are, making a moan leave your mouth. "Mine," he grunts, sounding like he's close to DTing. "My beautiful whore, taking my cock so well."
The praise mixed with degradation should sting, but instead it stokes the flames of your need, and you moan again. "You like this, pretty girl?" Vergil asks as he kisses your spine again, thrusting in and out. "You like when I pound into your sweet little cunt with my cock?"
Another moan, louder this time, is your only reply—more, more, more, until he pumps you full of his cum—
For a few blissful moments, there's only him and his rough thrusts before he stops. Your brow furrows a bit. "Why'd you stop?"
Vergil doesn't say anything, he just grabs your hips and positions the both of you so that he's on his back and you're straddling him, his cock inches away from your entrance. You can see his face now, and has a bit of a self-confident smirk on his mouth. Even if you don't have sex much, you can tell what that means. You sink onto his cock—it's deeper this time, and your moan occurs at the same time as his groan. 
His hands knead into your hips as you brace your hands on his muscled chest, moving up and down in a rough rhythm, moaning whenever his cock deeply hits in a sweet spot. You keep going, lost in the pleasure, riding Vergil into oblivion until he lifts his hips and his cock hits a spot that makes you come and sees stars at the same time—you let out a sound between a moan and a scream at the sensation. His orgasm comes right up on the heels of yours, and he lets out a long, low groan as he cums deep inside you, and your inner walls clench, milking it out.
When he pulls out, there's a small whine from you, but you can feel his cum dripping from your pussy, along with the juices from your own orgasm. You sit there on top of him, still dazed from post-orgasmic bliss, taking in air. You off-handedly wonder where your clothes are before remembering Vergil quite literally ripping them off of you earlier. 
He seems to have seen something in your face, because he raises his head and kisses the tip of your nose. "You okay?" he asks you, and his checking in brings a small smile to your face. "Yeah...just wondering what I'm gonna do since you ripped all my clothes right off."
Vergil winces a bit. "Sorry, I just...I wanted you so bad that I wasn't thinking straight. I still want you."
"I know," you murmur drowsily. "I do too."
You get off him and let him put his clothes back on, for some reason expecting him to leave you here naked since he'd gotten what he wanted from you. Fabric is draped around your shoulders, and you see Vergil kneel in front of you, fully dressed now, doing seemingly hidden buttons to protect your dignity. He further surprises you by picking you up bridal style as if you weigh nothing. He then presses his mouth to yours—an offer you immediately accept by kissing back—before he pulls away just enough for his mouth to graze yours as he talks. "I'd do anything for you. Kill, steal, lie, cheat...you name it, I'll do it, because you deserve the fucking world, my love."
You smile and reply with, "Same goes for you."
Vergil laughs softly and kisses you again before grabbing the Yamato—mostly forgotten in your guys' frenzy—and holds it one hand as he bridal carries you to his room.
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Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 7: Father and Daughter (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)
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Chapter 7: Father and Daughter
A hunt, a reunion, and a conflict. A normal day in Westeros then.
Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 
HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 
Warnings: Nothing of note, save for parental trauma and a notable lack of Daemon shenanigans.
Word Count: 5.8k words
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 
A/N: OH MY GOD IM ALIVE???? Yeah, it appears I am 😭 I'm so sorry about the long wait on this chapter, the past two weeks have been wild for me ever since I came back from my vacation. 1. My dad crashed his car? 2. I had like five projects due during the past two weeks and I had to write in a report and evaluation about my project groupmate who essentially did nothing 😐 if I could beat someone's ass without getting suspended, istg... 3. I've been suffering from a lot of chest pains recently, which kinda stopped me from doing my thing for a while 4. I had insane writers block for like a week and it was horrid 😖 but luckily, I'm back now, and hopefully updating more often! And also I've learnt that my classmate is following me on tumblr, I am a little mortified, but hello regardless. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 💕 no Daemon cameo unfortunately, but he'll be back next chapter, and messier than ever.
lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !
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109 years after Aegon's Conquest
The doors to the room burst open, and you stepped in, a little out of breath. Lord Hobert Hightower and the Hand, who were standing closest to the doorway, were engrossed deep in conversation when you walked in, and you heard something along the lines of “It’s only a matter of time before Viserys names him heir.” You try not to frown at that, nodding politely to them before heading over to the crowd gathered over at the other side of the room, cooing at the heir in question: little Aegon, who was celebrating his second nameday. 
“Ah, Y/N!” Viserys exclaimed happily, gesturing for you to come and stand between him and Alicent, whose face was radiant with happiness. Viserys signalled for the wet nurse to step forward, and before you knew it, little Aegon was in your arms, babbling in that toddler frenzy of his. The assemblage of lords and ladies stepped closer to you, much to your discomfort, as you forced a cheerful smile and bounced Aegon up and down in your arms, which made him squeal with delight. “I fear that Aegon might come to see you as his mother sooner or late, Y/N, given how much he adores you.” Viserys claimed. You flush at his words, and Alicent soon steps in, smiling, “Tis true. Aegon always perks up when he’s in your arms.” You were sure you would melt into a puddle if you were subject to any more of their compliments. “You flatter me, Your Graces.” 
In the periphery of your vision, you saw Ser Tyland Lannister attempt to get Viserys’ attention, and you handed back a now fussing Aegon to his nursemaid. Alicent shuffled over to the feast table, and she smiled brightly as you approached. Placing a hand on her swollen belly, your heart fluttered with delight when you felt a slight kick. Though the horrors of childbirth still plagued your mind, being there for Alicent’s relatively smooth birth with Aegon had made your fears lessen a little. 
“How’s the babe?” you ask. “Only active when you’re here, it seems,” Alicent laughed. “They never seem to kick for anyone else other than you. I think they will adore you as much as Aegon does.” You chuckle, stroking Alicent’s belly gently. “What if the kicking is a sign that the babe will dislike me?” Alicent patted your hand, “Definitely not. I have no doubt in my mind that you will be dear to the babe.” she said with conviction. You blush at her words, “You flatter me, Your Grace.” 
“Can someone tell me where in the Seven Hells Rhaenyra might be?” Viserys’ frustrated bellow drew you and Alicent out of your tender moment. Alicent’s face twisted with worry, and you were sure your face was a mirror image of hers. “You came in later than the rest of us. Did you see Rhaenyra anywhere?” You shake your head glumly, “She wasn’t in her chambers, or her apartments.” Alicent sighed in exasperation, “Viserys has questioned nearly every courtier in the room, and not a single one of them has a clue. Where might she be?” You chewed your lip, thinking back to the snippet of conversation you had overheard between the Hand and Lord Hobert. “She’s upset right now. The two of you were…” You refrained from finishing the sentence when you saw Alicent wince. “Do you have any inkling on where she might go to cool off?” “I don’t belie-” A look of realisation dawned in Alicent’s eyes. “You know somewhere?” You ask her urgently. Alicent nodded, “I’ll go find her. You should stay and satiate yourself before the journey.” “Are you sure?” You ask her, concerned. Alicent squeezed your hand gently. “Don’t worry about me. I think I can get Rhaenyra to see reason.” 
You glance pensively at Alicent’s retreating figure. Sighing, you approached the refreshments table, smiling gratefully as a servant handed you a plate with some slices of roast pork. You heard your name being called, and turned around to find Viserys. “Your Grace-” you moved to curtsy, but Viserys stopped you, “I told you, no need for such stuffy courtesies when you are with me.” You smiled wryly, “I thought it wouldn’t apply in a room full of courtiers.” Viserys waved away your words, “You are my family, Y/N. There are no such constraints within your own kin.” You smile sadly at the word ‘family’. It was a little sad to say, but you definitely did feel more of a kinship with the current members of House Targaryen over those of your own house. 
“Speaking of kin,” Viserys’ voice turned serious. “I am in need of a favour from you, Y/N.” You snapped to attention. “Whatever you need, Viserys.” He sighed, looking mournful and irritated at the same time. “It has been nigh three years since I have wedded Alicent. Time after time, I have tried to approach Rhaenyra, but she shuns me away every single time. The rare chances she actually sits down and listens, she sulks like a child and only provides me with short responses.” Viserys sighed again, whatever sadness he had turning into disappointment and exasperation. “This is not the way the heir to the Iron Throne should behave.” He looked at you beseechingly, “I implore you, Y/N. I believe what Rhaenyra needs is for a motherly figure to talk to her, and persuade her to abandon such foolish antics. I fear Alicent would not be able to serve such a role, since Rhaenyra’s ire is directed at the both of us. But you,” You swallowed nervously. “I’ve seen how close Rhaenyra kept you after Aemma’s death. For months, apart from Alicent, you were her closest confidant. I know naught of what has transpired between the two of you, but I believe you to be the best person for this tiresome task. Will you do methis favour?” 
Your expression was resigned, but you forced out a smile nonetheless. “But of course. I will do my best, Viserys.” He closed his eyes in relief, clapping you on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you, Y/N. Thank you.” You gave a tentative smile back, painfully aware of the numerous eyes glued to the both of you. What you failed to notice, however, were the heavy gazes of Otto and Hobert Hightower on you. 
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An awkward silence weighed upon the royal wheelhouse as it made its way to the Kingswood. You glance uncomfortably between Viserys, Alicent, and Rhaenyra, watching with some pity as Viserys attempted to make conversation with his irascible and sullen daughter. A miniature dragon thrust in your face soon drew your attention however, and you looked down to frown admonishingly at little Aegon, who blinked his wide violet eyes at you innocently. The little devil, you were sure he was trying to garner your attention on purpose. Earlier, he had been weeping inconsolably, much to the nursemaid’s and Alicent’s distress. But when you had taken him into your arms, he had ceased his tears immediately and gave you a cherubic smile, which made Alicent give you a knowing smile and Rhaenyra to look at the both of you in disdain. The expression of disdain had yet to depart from Rhaenyra, as you played patiently with Aegon, flying his dragon miniature around him and smiling as the toddler spun his head around to follow the motions of the dragon with rapt fascination. 
The tension in the wheelhouse was not lightening in the slightest bit, as Viserys began talking about Rhaenyra giving him grandchildren, of all things. You had to stop yourself from groaning in exasperation. If Viserys truly wanted to reconnect with Rhaenyra again, why was he digging himself into an even bigger hole? He should know that after Aemma, Rhaenyra would be disinclined to entertain notions of childbirth. You wanted to put your head in your hands, but Aegon poked you in the cheek. 
“No one’s here for me!” Rhaenyra’s angry outburst halted all activity in the wheelhouse, including Aegon’s. You froze, looking up at Rhaenyra, but her bitter gaze was focused solely on her father. All of you endured the rest of the ride in silence. 
The rocking of the wheelhouse soon came to an end. You remained seated as Viserys and Alicent stepped out to the raucous cheers of the crowd, allowing Aegon’s nursemaid to take him from your arms. You remembered Viserys’ plea, and took in Rhaenyra’s wistful expression. “Hail, hail! Aegon the Conqueror babe, Second of His Name!” You grimace when you hear the tasteless remark. 
Rhaenyra’s fists were clenched at her sides, and her eyes were shut. With frustration, or with sadness, she didn’t know. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand taking her fisted hand and unclenching it. She didn’t need to open her eyes to see who it was. “I don’t need your pity.” Rhaenyra tried to sound snappy, but her voice was hoarse. You didn’t answer, instead intertwining your fingers with Rhaenyra. She reluctantly opened her eyes, only to see you directing a hostile glare to the outside commotion, as more and more voices heralded Aegon as the Second of His Name. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but smile at that, letting some of the tension seep out of her muscles. 
At least there was someone in her dark and lonely corner, even if that someone’s trustworthiness had yet to be ascertained. 
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You were sitting next to Alicent, as she held court with the various noble ladies who had attended the hunt. You listened, silently sipping from your goblet as they conversed about the ongoing war in the Stepstones. You watched as Larys Strong and Rhaenyra soon joined in the conversation, though a slight frown of distaste was soon visible on your face, when Lady Lannister and Lady Redwyne in particular, began picking on Rhaenyra. You had to hide a smirk when Rhaenyra made a well-directed jab at Lady Redwyne, and the smirk only widened when you saw her pig-faced dog gobble greedily at the cake on her plate. How fitting. 
“You know, Lady Y/N.” Your head snapped up as Lady Redwyne addressed you. She had a displeased look on her face: clearly she hadn’t missed your smirk at her expense. “I was…pleasantly surprised to hear Her Grace appointed you as her chief lady-in-waiting.” Your eyes narrowed, your dormant prickly nature coming to life once more. “It was a great honour, Lady Joselyn. One that I am greatly grateful to Her Grace for.” 
Lady Redwyne gave you a smile, that you knew from all your years of court politics, was filled with ill intent. “I must say, if you were out in the battlefield fighting on the Stepstones, the war would be won by now.” You felt Alicent stiffen next to you, and you instinctively reached out to put your hand on hers. “What are you insinuating, Lady Redwyne?” Alicent’s tone was sharper than usual. Lady Redwyne attempted to school her features back to deference, but her lips were curved upwards. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I was not attempting to insinuate anything. It was a compliment to Lady Y/N.” You levelled a fierce glare at her, but she seemed unaffected, looking at you straight in the eye. “It is a well known fact that she and Prince Daemon had tempers that rivalled each other. With such willfulness, she would make a formidable opponent on the battlefield, would she not?” 
You were about to deliver an equally cutting and backhanded response, but you were surprised when you heard Rhaenyra speak up once more, “Yes, Lady Redwyne. But as luck would have it, she is the Queen’s lady-in-waiting now.” Rhaenyra’s tone was acidic. “And I am certain that she will carry out her duties with skill and grace. The Queen will not be able to find someone as capable as her.” 
The ladies were stunned that Rhaenyra had spoken up for you, none more so than you and Alicent. “The princess is right. Lady Y/N has been a dutiful lady-in-waiting and companion. The Seven have truly blessed me with her.” Your eyes water with gratitude, as Lady Redwyne and the other ladies fall silent after both the princess and the queen’s swift defence of you.
So this was what kinship felt like. 
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Night had fallen, and the air was ablaze with the smell of smoke. You had sat faithfully by Alicent all day, as she entertained lords and ladies alike. You had not seen Rhaenyra in quite some time though, and you worry about where she could have wandered off to. Your anxiety only increased tenfold when you saw Viserys’ goblet never straying from his hand, and he had been lifting it to his lips moreso after his conversations with the Hand, Jason Lannister, and Lyonel Strong, in particular. Alicent was clearly on edge as well, her brown eyes watchful as she witnessed her husband lose himself in his cups. When Viserys abruptly left the tent after a brief, yet intense conversation with Lyonel Strong, Alicent got up to go after him, but you gently pushed her back down to her seat, giving her a reassuring look. She should not need to see her husband in such a misbegotten state, while in her pregnancy, you thought to yourself, as you wrapped your shawl around you, shivering in the cold night air. 
You eventually found Viserys by the huge bonfire, downing yet another goblet of wine, while being guarded by two Kingsguard. They nodded at you as you passed. You went straight to Viserys, taking the cup whilst he was distracted. “I think that’s enough for you tonight, Viserys.” Your voice was soft, yet firm. He gave you an enervated smile. “The night is cold, you shouldn’t be out here.” You hand the goblet over to a Kingsguard. “Who will look after you, then? And make sure you do not drink yourself into a stupor?” Viserys laughed heartily, before he coughed. You reach for him, concerned. He stared into the flames, looking like he wanted to step into them himself. “Y/N.” “Hmm?” Viserys took a deep breath, trying to control the slurring in his voice. “What do you think is the foundation of House Targaryen’s strength?” 
You tilt your head to the side questioningly, “That is a trick question, right? Of course, the answer is House Targaryen’s dragons.” Viserys smiled ruefully, turning over to face you. You were taken aback by the blazing intensity, perhaps even madness in his eyes. “You’re wrong, Y/N. It began with a dream.” He turned back to face the fire. “When Daenys the Dreamer had the dream that prophesied the end of the Valyrian Freehold, that dream saved House Targaryen. While all the other dragonlords were destroyed, it was only us who survived.” “I know of that tale. Your grandsire told us that tale when we were younger.” 
Viserys didn’t seem to hear you, however, his bleak gaze still on the fire. “In my line, many had been dragonriders. Very few among us have been dreamers. What is the power of dragons, next to the power of prophecy?” You shivered, and not because of the cold. Yet you continue listening. “When Rhaenyra was a child, I saw it in a dream. As vivid as these flames, I saw it. A male babe, born to me, wearing the Conqueror’s crown. And I so wanted it to be true, to be a dreamer myself. I sought that vision again, night after night…but it never came again. I poured all my thought and will into it. And my obsession killed Aemma.” You looked away at that, your heart wrenched with grief.  “I thought Rhaenyra was the way out of my abyss of grief and regret. That naming her heir would set things right.” 
“Are you saying you regret naming Rhaenyra heir then?” Viserys looked grieved. “Oftentimes, yes…I have. I worried that I had named Rhaenyra out of anger towards Daemon, not out of love, or for the good of the realm.” He moved to grip your shoulders, tears in his eyes. “Y/N, I never imagined that I would remarry. That I would have a son. What if…what if I was wrong all along?” 
You stared into his despair-filled eyes. “I cannot tell you if you’re wrong, Viserys. There are only two paths ahead of you now, and as King, you must be prepared to take one, and soon.” Viserys chuckles, drooping his head. “What if I’m not sure what path I should take?” Your voice was quiet. “Then the realm will descend into chaos.” 
The both of you were silent, staring at each other in the firelight. While you couldn’t say that you approved of Viserys’ decisions in the past three years, after all this, he was your friend, and he was just a mere mortal, plagued by regrets, grief, and hesitation. Just like you, and everyone else. Even kings were not infallible to weakness, you surmised. And in that moment, there was a mutual understanding and grievance shared between the both of you: the burden of choice. 
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The morrow brought about clear skies and sun, much to the delight of the lords partaking in the hunt. It did not alleviate your worries however, as Rhaenyra still had not returned to the encampment. You found yourself milling about today, much too tired to suffer the thinly veiled jabs the fellow noblewomen were directing at you about your infamous temper. 
You were dressed in a simpler riding outfit today, to mingle around with the various smallfolk and merchants that had set up stalls in the encampment, hoping eagerly to attract some lord’s attention and earn a few gold dragons. You beamed as you sampled a rather delicious roast pork skewer, giving the stall owner - a rather plump woman - two golden dragons, much to her glee. You strode back to the main tent, feeling satisfied, when you suddenly heard the sound of hooves. You turned your head as a palomino horse skidded to a halt, and a familiar man, with more grey hairs than he had the last time you saw him, dismount from the horse and take off his riding gloves. His eyes light up as soon as he catches sight of you, and without giving you a window to escape, he strode towards you. You chew your lip in dread as he approached. 
“Father.” 
“Y/N.” He beams at you, his eyes crinkled at the corners. You smile awkwardly at him, fidgeting with your fingers. His smile falters a little when he notices your hesitation. “I haven’t seen you in years, daughter. Does this momentous occasion not warrant a hug?” You inwardly sigh, and reach out to embrace your father. Your father grins at you as you pull away after an awkward pause. “You have grown, daughter. You look beautiful.” “You flatter me, Father.” “Come, walk with me. We have much to talk about.” You swallowed, but followed as he set out for the forested edge of the campground. 
The both of you strode in silence for a while, before you ventured to break the silence. “The King didn’t mention you would be joining us for the hunt, Father. Why the sudden change of heart?” He sighed. “Can an old man not choose to be in nature once in a while?” “Of course you can, father. I was just concerned: you are no longer in the pink of health, and riding all the way from Highgarden to the Kingswood is a gruelling journey.” Your father waved his hand dismissively. “Twas nothing. I might be getting on in my years, but I recently found a new source of reinvigoration.” 
“Oh?” you cocked your head curiously. You sincerely hoped the new source of reinvigoration was not a new bid for your hand. Your father smiled, “I recently remarried to Lady Clarice of House Fossoway.” Seeing your confused look, he hurried to clarify. “Of Cider Hall.” Surprise creased your features. “But…wasn’t that Mother’s maiden house? Lady Clarice was her cousin, was she not?” Your father’s smile was beginning to look strained. “Does it matter, daughter? What matters is that I am happy with her, is it not? And I am certain she will give me strong sons soon.” You regard him with a degree of caution, noting the shift in his voice. In your years of dealing with court politics, you could instinctively tell when a situation was about to go from bad to worse. “I did not know you had any plans on remarrying after Mother’s death.” 
“And whose fault is that, daughter?” Your father’s tone turned chiding. “I know you’ve been ignoring all the ravens I’ve sent to you over the past few years. Specifically, those with letters attached from me pleading for you to just find yourself a match at court or select one of the eligible lords in the lists I sent you.” You blushed, looking sheepish. Matthos sighed. “Daughter, you are no longer young. It is past time you are wed. I only want what’s best for you.” 
“But-” you blurted out, “What if I don’t think getting married is what’s best for me, Father?” Your father looked askance at that. “What else could a young lady such as yourself desire other than marriage?” You bit your lip, “Father, the truth is…I do not think I have a desire to wed now…or ever.” You were beginning to get anxious as your father’s face lost some of his paternal tenderness. “Five years. I had hoped that our time apart had given you some time to reflect on your…misconceptions.” He gripped your shoulders, an intense blaze in his eyes as your heart began to thud with dread. “The matter of marriage is not one that you can dismiss so easily anymore, Y/N. It entails the survival and future of House Tyrell. You must do your duty and wed a respectable lord, for the sake of our house.” Though you had heard those words aplenty, today, it was like something uninhibited had seized control of you, as you burst out. “Why should I care about doing my duty to House Tyrell?” you snapped. “I have made it clear that it is not my intention to ever take a husband, now and in the foreseeable future. You claim this is all done for my own happiness. So why can’t you just respect my wishes?” 
“Because you are not just some poxy peasant who can gallivant about as you please. You are my daughter!” You were shocked when your father suddenly raised his voice. Trepidation had dimmed your previous righteousness. He tightens his grip on your shoulders, his expression filled with an anger you had never glimpsed before. This…this was not the father you remember. The father you knew had never once raised his voice at you, always treating you with patience as his only child. Though he was prone to bouts of frustrated pleading when you did not acquiesce to his wishes to get married, he had never once shouted at you like that. Or even gripped your shoulders with such forcefulness you feared he might strike you. “You are just as useless as your late mother.” You were stunned, your eyes searing with hot tears. “Do not insult Mother like that. She was the most wonderful woman-” “Wonderful, you say?” your father snorted. “If she were so wonderful, then she would have provided me with a strong and healthy son to succeed me! Instead, she left me with a daughter who is ungrateful and strangely determined to remain a spinster all her life.” he spat out the words with such vitriol that you were taken aback. “If she were so wonderful,” your father continued with his rant. “Then would House Tyrell be in imminent danger of collapsing, all because the only heirs I have are your incompetent, doltish cousins who will run the legacy our ancestors and I have built to the ground?” He moved to clasp your hand tightly in his, looking desperate and angry all at once. “Daughter, your father is imploring you. You must get wed, and provide me with a grandson. You cannot let House Tyrell go to ruin.” You stare at him, feeling beleaguered. “Do my wishes mean nothing to you?” “This is because your wishes are obscenely unreasonable, Y/N.” your father snaps. “It is practically unheard of for a woman of your status to not wed.” “It is not!” you insisted, “I am the chief lady-in-waiting to the Queen now, I have duties I must perform. And there have been histories of lords whose daughters were largely spinsters. Moreover, you have remarried.” Your voice became desperate as you tried to make your father see reason. “Lady Clarice is young, she will give you many sons in due time. Suitable heirs to Highgarden. I do not understand why you are putting all this pressure on me.” You took a deep breath, preparing to make your final stand. “I want to enjoy the rest of my youth, Father. Not to sit in a castle, entrapped in a loveless marriage and pumping out potential heirs for my husband and for you. I want to live my life, free of constraints.” You looked at him, unshed tears in your eyes. “Please, father. This is the one thing I have ever asked of you, and that is to respect my wishes.” 
Matthos was silent for a long while, and you held hope, briefly, that you might have gotten through to him with your pleading. “Foolish, insolent girl!” Your hopes were dashed as your father flung off your hand, shouting at you. “How can you be so selfish? To not take responsibility in ensuring the continuation of our house’s line?” “That is your responsibility, not mine!” you shouted back. Seeing that pleas would not get to your father now, you resorted to fighting fire with fire instead. “Had you really cared about continuing our house’s bloodline, you would’ve remarried years ago!” You could see how your shouts were drawing the attention of some courtiers, given how close the both of you were to the camp for royals. You heard the faint sound of hooves behind you, but you ignored them, too engrossed in your argument with your father. “Producing heirs is a lord’s responsibility. So if you are accusing me of not doing my duty, you should first be reprimanding yourself.” 
Your father’s face grew red. “You little brat! How dare you say these things about your father!” “I spoke only the truth,” you shot back. He raised his hand, and for a moment you were afraid he was going to slap you for your outburst. Instead, he went to grip your shoulders again, “For years, I have raised you, clothed you in the finest silks, fed you, and put up with your ridiculous whims and wants! I’ve been patient, I’ve been loving and understanding when you rejected all the marriage offers you received. I’ve pleaded, and even given you the time and freedom to find a more suitable match at court. Yet you cannot even perform your duty as my daughter. No longer.” Your heart stuttered a little. “What do you mean?” Your father gave you a cold look. “I’m saying, if you do not get married by the end of the year, you are no longer my daughter.” Your eyes widen with horror. “I will effectively disown and disinherit you from House Tyrell, and if I sire any children by Lady Clarice, they shall not support you either.” 
Your voice was tremulous, “Father, you…you cannot be serious. Do not let your anger cloud your judgement.” Matthos Tyrell looked at his daughter, his face one of disgust. “You wanted to enjoy your youth without constraints. And since you seem to enjoy being lady-in-waiting to the Queen so much, I’m only granting you what you wished for, am I not?” 
You stepped back, feeling winded by your father’s words. However, you nearly jumped when you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Ah, Y/N!” You were not sure whether you felt more mortified or relieved for Viserys’ timely presence. “Your Grace!” Immediately, your father’s distaste gave way to deference, as he straightened his posture and bowed before the King. You inclined your head respectfully, wondering if Viserys had overheard your conversation. “Forgive me for interrupting your conversation.” Oh, he definitely overheard. 
“There’s nothing to forgive, Your Grace. I am delighted to be in your presence.” Your father gushed on profusely, as Viserys stepped toward him. You hung your head, still abashed by your father’s threats, when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder once more. Alicent smiled at you understandingly, and you grimaced when you realised she had also overheard the unpleasant exchange. Still, you shot her a grateful look for her show of support. 
“I must offer you my sincerest felicitations for Prince Aegon’s second nameday, Your Grace.” Viserys laughed, “Your felicitations are greatly appreciated, Lord Matthos. I must extend you mine as well, for your recent remarriage. I see it is treating you well.” Your father beamed, “You are too kind, Your Grace. And indeed, my lady wife pleases me so. Now, the only thing that would make me the happiest man in the realm would be my daughter finally settling down with a respectable match.” You stiffened at that, something Alicent took notice of, and she offered you a sympathetic look. Viserys chuckled, “That you and I can both agree on, Lord Matthos. There is nothing more I desire right now than seeing Rhaenyra being wed to a deserving man who will treat her right.” 
“Oh, I am sure Her Grace will have her pick of men. She is ‘The Realm’s Delight’, after all. Any man who weds her will be a lucky one.” Your father’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone, as he glanced at you. “Moreover, Her Grace is young, comely, and lovely to behold.” Matthos sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled, “Mine own daughter is not in possess of such qualities, I’m afraid. She is getting on with her years, and though I love her deeply, as her father, I must admit she has quite a temper on her. She's not quite the attractice match, which gives me a headache,” Matthos jested with the King, causing you to wince and look away. Alicent looked disconcerted at your father’s tasteless jesting, tightening her hold on your shoulder. However, the both of you did not notice the flare of annoyance behind Viserys’ eyes, so his next words surprised the both of you. 
“Lady Y/N has been nothing but a delight to have at court, Lord Matthos. In spite of her age, I’m sure she has no shortage of suitors.” Viserys’ voice was amiable, polite, yet it carried an undertone of firmness and reprimand such that Matthos looked a little stunned, worried that he had overstepped. You looked back to the pair, your eyes wide with disbelief. “And should Y/N ever find herself unwilling to marry, the Red Keep will always welcome her. She is like family to me, after all.” Your father fell silent, and you locked eyes with Viserys, looking lost, yet appreciative all the same. Viserys gave you a reassuring smile, and you could see the sincerity behind his intent. Your eyes prickled with touched tears, but the moment was interrupted when you heard shouts across the campground, startling your party. You turned around, only to behold the sight of Rhaenyra, stained head to toe with dried blood, a commanding aura in her swagger as her sworn shield, Ser Criston, trailed behind her, along with two servants carrying a dead boar. You lock eyes with her momentarily, and she gives a small nod of acknowledgement to you, although her eyes turned cold when they looked upon her father. You heard Viserys sigh, and you saw how Viserys looked both annoyed and relieved for Rhaenyra’s safety, while your father just looked bewildered, perhaps even a little scared. Despite yourself, you smiled a little at the scene. 
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Alicent and you were chatting in her chambers, laughing in hushed tones as you rocked Aegon to sleep in your arms, when the Hand entered the room, requesting to speak with Alicent. You handed a sleepy Aegon to his nursemaid, before curtsying and exiting the room, painfully aware of the Hand’s weighty gaze upon you as you did. 
Alicent knew that her father had not visited her out of a gesture of goodwill, and as she listened to his rather maddening reasoning that Alicent should attempt to make her husband see reason and name Aegon heir, she only stayed silent. There was no point in countering back anyway - the Hand always seemed to have a dozen other reasons to quell her opposition. She felt uncomfortable, for speaking of this was treason, and the babe shifted in her belly, causing her to sigh. 
Otto observed his daughter, noting with mild exasperation that she wasn’t paying heed to anything he was saying. So, he decided to change the subject. “About your lady-in-waiting…” he began. Alicent’s head snapped up, “What do you wish to discuss of Y/N?” Otto let a smile play over his lips: it was quite evident his daughter cared for the Tyrell lady, and from his further observations over the past three years, treated her akin to a maternal figure. Which might make it easier for her to accept what he proposed next. “I overheard a rather…interesting conversation she had, with Lord Matthos today.” Alicent showed no visible reaction, but she stared at her father, feeling an all-too-familiar feeling of dread settle in her gut. “I think half the campground overheard their argument. What of it?” 
Otto hummed softly, “It seems her father is worrying about her marriage. Which is a reasonable worry - she is on the cusp of her twenty fifth nameday, is she not?” Alicent nodded slowly, eyeing her father with caution. She knew him all too well, how he was tapping his fingers on the armrests of his chair - he was scheming. She recalled how upset you were when you spoke with your father, citing your dreams to enjoy your youth and be freed of the constraints of marriage. In later years, she had come to both see you as a cherished companion and a parental figure of sorts, and she cared for you, deeply so. You were her only source of comfort in the Red Keep, one who did not expect or demand anything of her, someone she felt she could truly be open with. She glanced fearfully at her father. 
She had to put an end to this. She must save you from suffering the same fate she did. 
“Father…you are not planning on taking a new wife, are you?” Alicent fidgeted with her fingers nervously, her eyes fixed on Otto. He was quiet for a long while, and in response to her question, he only stood up and went over to his daughter, placing a hand on her swollen belly. His cryptic answer disturbed Alicent. “You worry too much over matters that do not need worrying about, daughter. Your concern now, should be Aegon. Raise him well, and raise him strong. He shall be an important man one day.”
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Come the morrow, the Godswood was completely devoid of any life. Which proved to be a boon to you, who was seeking some reprieve from the busy atmosphere of the Red Keep and the somewhat maddening task of having to feed Aegon -  due to his tendency of smooshing the food in the face of whomever had the misfortune of feeding him, most commonly you. 
You sat on the stone bench, staring despondently at the Godswood tree. While you were never particularly religious, either to the Seven or to the Old Gods, the happenings of the hunt have driven you to pray with increasing fervency these days. What you prayed for, you did not know. Was it for the hope that your father’s heart might soften and he might be persuaded to leave you be for the rest of your life? You scoffed to yourself, knowing how improbable it was. Fiddling with the pendant - Aemma’s pendant, you sighed, tilting your head downwards to the ground. 
You were startled when you heard movement next to you, of another soul taking a seat next to you on the bench, her posture ramrod straight, and her expression blank. Rhaenyra’s linen sleeves fluttered slightly in the breeze. 
“I suppose neither of us are in the best of spirits,” Rhaenyra’s voice was stilted, like she was reluctant to break the silence first. You lifted your head upright, looking at her with a tentative smile, “No, I suppose we aren’t.” An awkward silence highlighted the chasm between the two of you. You wondered, had this truly been the girl of fourteen who confided in you about everything? Now, it seems there is a stark contrast to the Rhaenyra you once knew to the Rhaenyra before you. Though of course, you were to be blamed for that. 
“My father has just ordered me to embark on a tour of the realm. A marriage tour.” Rhaenyra’s bitter tone roused you from your thoughts. “I do not know why I’m telling you this. Perhaps it’s because you are the only person in the Keep who might have the slightest sympathy for what I’m going through.” Rhaenyra’s voice lowered to a slightly malicious pitch, but there was no disguising the hurt behind her voice. “Or maybe it would be false sympathy. But it is better than none.” 
You winced, wanting to reach out and take Rhaenyra’s hand, the way you knew she loved. Physical touch was Rhaenyra’s favourite way of receiving and expressing affection. A wane smile pulled at your lips as you heard her words, “You might be cynical, but I have more sympathies to your plight than you might think, Princess.” Rhaenyra was surprised by the resignation in your tone. She recalled the scene she had seen when she returned to the royal encampment at the hunt that day. “...does it have something to do with your father?” 
You let out a sad laugh, “Indeed. I have been forced into a situation much more precarious than yours, I would say. My father has given me an ultimatum: I must wed by the end of this year, or I shall be effectively disinherited and disowned as a member of House Tyrell.” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, her stance immediately shifting to one of sympathy and guilt. “Does your father jest?” “I’m afraid not,” you remark with a despaired, cynical laugh, “Father’s patience has worn thin when it comes to me, I’m afraid. I should’ve known it foolish to think that I could escape from the ramifications of duty to my House.” 
You were a little mortified to find your eyes prickling with tears. In truth, you were frightened to the bone. Two paths were set in stone before you now, and neither were pleasant. Rhaenyra hesitated for a while, before reaching out to take your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. You were startled by her sudden gesture, as the flood of familiarity rushed through your veins. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “This is a horrible situation to find yourself in.” She looked hesitant, “I know you’ve always been of your own mind, Y/N. I just want you to know…that you are not alone. Should the worst come…I’m sure that my father will not turn you away in your hour of need.” Her lips turned upwards wistfully, “I will not too. The both of us are stuck in similar predicaments, are we not? Daughters forced to marry off at our father’s behest. We must stick together.” 
“...thank you,” you said quietly, touched, “I do not deserve your kindness, after all I have hidden from you.” Rhaenyra’s smile turns somewhat bitter, “What is done cannot be undone. What matters now is the future.” 
The cool metal of Aemma’s pendant dug into the flesh of your palm, as an idea came to you. “I have something for you,” Rhaenyra’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes grew misty as you presented the ruby falcon pendant to her. “I think this belongs to you. I’ve been holding onto it for the past few years, but I think it’s time you have it back.” Rhaenyra takes the pendant, clasping it to her chest as she looked mournfully down at it. “I thought it was naught but ashes now.” You bit your lip, seeing how relieved yet pained Rhaenyra looked made you regret not giving it to her sooner. You had clung onto it for selfish reasons over the past few years, unwilling to let go of Aemma. But now, you felt it was time to let go of the past, and brave on into the future. “I hope that having this piece of Aemma would make you feel more comforted on your marriage tour.” 
Rhaenyra’s eyes were misty, as she clasped the pendant like it was worth all the spice and gold from the shores of Essos. “Y/N.” Rhaenyra said quietly. “Hmm?” “Do you think…that Mother would’ve been proud of the person I am today?” Rhaenyra swallowed, looking downcast. “...I fear that, ever since I was named heir, since…Aegon was born, Father’s disappointment in me has been growing by the day.” “And why would you think that?” you asked, concerned. Rhaenyra took a shaky inhale, “I know that Father did not name me heir out of choice. It was a critical time, after Daemon had left, and the Realm would be plunged into unease upon the disinheritance of my uncle from the line of succession.” She bit her lip. “Father even told me as much. He said he had wavered at the notion of making me heir.” Your eyes flickered with shock and a little bit of righteous anger. “He said that?” Rhaenyra nodded miserably, and you patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. “He told me he would never waver again, but it is a little hard to put my faith in that, with….with Aegon’s shadow looming over me.” Rhaenyra sighed, tilting her head upwards. ”I just…I wish I could do something to be better. To prove to Father that I’m not just the right choice to the throne because he named me heir when he had no choice. I want to show him that I possess the qualities to rule the throne. The marriage tour would be a start, but I just detest the idea of having to bind myself to some lord to prove my worthiness to the throne.” 
“I understand how you feel,” you commiserated, and she rested her head on your shoulder. “The expectations of a woman’s duty often cast a shadow over our lives.” Rhaenyra closed her eyes, feeling at ease with you, even if it were just for a brief moment. “Mother was fond of saying that marriage is a woman’s duty, and childbed is our battlefield. Especially as royal women,” Rhaenyra’s voice was thick with emotion. “I understand I must do this, for the good of the realm, but…why is it so terrifying? To have my worth determined on my husband and the number of children I can bear in service to him and the realm.” The setting sun glistened off a tear slowly making its way down Rhaenyra’s cheek. “Y/N, do you think my mother would be proud, watching me doubt her teachings?” 
You reached out to wipe her tear away, your other hand’s thumb gently stroking her hand that you still held. “You are her daughter, Rhaenyra. I have no doubt that you could be the most dastardly miscreant, and she would be proud of you nonetheless.” That got a bleak smile from Rhaenyra, “Truly?” You nodded your confirmation, smiling fondly down at her. “Truly. Though luckily, your moral character is rather upright.” Rhaenyra laughed, and you smiled, happy to have made her laugh. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. You have no idea how much that means to me.” Rhaenyra whispered to you.  
The two women stayed like this in the Godswood for a while, each swarmed by their own thoughts. So different, yet so similar in their impending doom, and duty.
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Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98 @travelingmypassion @zae5 @norestfortheshelbywicked @soleilgrec @anehkael @midnightprincess18 @lilith--666​
Daemon General Taglist: @aiyaiy @kmmg98 @norestfortheshelbywicked @hb8301 
those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 
A/N: All I gotta say is: ruh roh, trouble is brewing. If you have made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. I aim to release chapter 8 by next Wednesday, hopefully something unprecedented doesn't happen before then though.
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littledollll · 2 years
Note
Can I please request a Larissa x English teacher reader. R has mental health issues and had a habit of isolating themselves when it gets bad but because of having Larissa they haven't done this in a few yea
R ends up having a really bad week (they overheard students or teachers making fun of them/their teaching) because of this they end up isolating for a few weeks causing people to be really concerned.
Larissa eventually finds r hiding in a fort they made in an abandoned part of the school with a pile of books they've been using to escape their thoughts.
Ends with Larissa comforting r while they explain what's been happening with them and Larissa tells them how perfect they are and that they are valuable and that she loves them?
Comfort crowd
Larissa weems x teacher!reader
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A/n: Im so sorry this took so long, writers block is kicking my ass recently Omg. I kinda like this though and I hope you do too! Thank you for your request.
Warnings: self isolation, students being little shits (but they love u) idk what else.
Mental health had always been an issue for you, something you’ve learned to handle over the years but Larissa had never seen you like this. One of the many reasons you fell inlove with her was because of how she made all your problems feel so much lighter, you felt safe and understood by her and she was always more than happy to help and support you through anything.
Lately it’s been getting worse. The pressure around you was too much and the new batch of students this year really did a number on you. They were impossible to deal with, and you’ve overheard them openly complain about you and your class. It’s never unusual for students to complain but never had it felt so personal, they were directly criticizing the class.
At first you ignored it, you kept showing and doing your classes but the more tired you seemed the more they decided to misbehave and make class impossible. It felt like they were directly trying to upset you, round of applause for them because it worked. One day you just stopped showing up.
At first the students were happy, who doesn’t love a free hour? But as the days passed they started getting concerned, they never really hated you all that much, but it was fun to mess around and not get work done, and maybe have a laugh whenever you were visibly frustrated. After a week of not hearing from you they came to Larissa about it.
She mentioned she was already aware and currently searching for you since you stopped meeting with her for your usually lunches together and date nights.
It wasn’t long before she found you, hidden away in the old and abandoned music room, the lights worked but barely. You had a comfortable little spot set up, books everywhere, a kind of fort sent up with the chairs in the room effectively hiding you from anyone who didn’t look too close. There wasn’t much around you but it was clear this is where you had been for the past week.
Larissa didn’t want to disturb the peace you had created for yourself, but she was concerned never had she seen you run away, much less completely disappear. Yes sometimes you’d take days off and keep the rest of the world out but back then you still let her in, so what happened that caused you to shut her out too?
Her hand raised and she knocked on one of the chairs announcing her presence, snapping you out of your concentration as you sat on the floor reading one of the many books with you.
“You’ve built yourself quite the hideaway.” Larissa was first to speak, you were met with that trademark beautiful and comforting smile only she seemed seemed to have. Nodding, you have her a sad smile back, though in your eyes she saw relief at the sight of her.
She looked to the space next to you, silently asking to be let in to your little comfort bubble, again you nodded, and as soon as she sat down her hands cupped your face, trying to get a good look at you, you hummed, leaning into the warmth of your touch.
“What happened, my love?” The dreaded question. How could you tell her the job and kids she loved so much were eating away at you. Draining you until you simply couldn’t show face. “The students were asking about you, some made their way to your room trying to check up on you as well.”
“They sure didn’t act like they cared how I was when I was present, they don’t care for the class and certainly don’t respect me, I hate to admit how much it got to me.” You sounded bitter, but more than that just hurt. She only pulled her hands away from you to wrap you in a hug, which you happily sank into, God you missed her.
“Why didn’t you tell me if they were acting up?” you sighed and hid into her chest. “What kind of teacher can’t get their room in control so bad they need to call in the principal.”
“Oh many, most of them really! If they aren’t rude and tough from the get-go the students will drive them insane. You are not the first and will not be the last. But they have no real intent to hurt you, I promise you that. I can’t tell you the amount of students who started asking about you on day two of your secret hideaway.”
You looked at her questioningly. Was she being serious? She gave you a nod and continued. “They trust you. They talk to and about you like you’re a friend, sometimes that causes issues, there’s a line that they cross alot. And when you act like more of a teacher than their friend it makes them upset. They’ll get used to it, and we will talk to them.”
“Riss, they make me feel like any attempt I do at doing my job is horrible. How come no other teachers have this problem if it’s so common?” You countered with a sigh.
“Some of them are, some of them did and their solution was to cut being friendly and start being overly strict, and with that you get the issue of being the class after the strict teacher. They get to talk more, have a little more freedom and it makes them lose control.”
You do remember hearing them complain about how the biology teacher would take away points, quote “any time we breathe too loud”. You always thought teachers like that were horrible.
“You are doing nothing wrong, my love. They need to learn control and respect and we will work on that together. You are an extremely valuable member of this school, to staff, to your students and most of all to me. You don’t need to hide from me darling, I’m here to help, support and love you. Allow me to do so.”
And just like that Larissa Weems yet again, made all your problems feel lighter. You didn’t have to handle anything alone, not as long as she was here.
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isackwhy · 4 months
Note
Can you make a thing for Yumi with an animal loving reader who has a tendency to bring home stray animals and works in animal rescue?
Like bro I've got a colony of cats that I've been working 2 months to get to rescue, I've finally got the last one going this week and I'm genuinely gonna miss him
awww :( that’s adorable wait also sorry for taking so long. writers block kicking my ass.
yumi x animal lover! reader hc’s
he’d never admit it but he kinda likes having so many cats or other pets
like he’ll jokingly complain and be like we don’t….we don’t need 7 cats. we don’t even need 6
but he’s buying them toys and spoiling them
so many pictures of them yet he’s annoyed 😗😗
when u go into work he expects pictures of animals all the times followed by “they need a home”
“no more baby.”
if u don’t live in the tgc i just imagine one time u decided to like take a walk w larry and u grabbed a cat and came back to his house w it
larry and u are all smiles and yumi is like :O babe—we can’t—YOU can’t
the others boys are immediately attached but they can’t keep it and they know it :(
if u post that ur looking for a home for ur animals ur fostering he’ll repost it :)
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k1ttef1a · 5 months
Note
I have plenty of requests for yuri voice, there’s not enough fics or headcanons, but! I hope you can change that! Can I have a Charlie fic where there’s top cas? Literally any top reader-
1) Can I have a Charlie fic where there’s top!fem! cas? Smut pls- and like the plot being he’s just pent up from stress and just needs a release-
2) Alphonse and Seth, seth still thinks he isn’t worthy of any love from them so sugurboo and Alphonse show him that is worth it? Switch!Alphonse, sub Seth, and dom top female sugarboo?
3)fin fluff/ angst(bc we need both sometimes) that who will not be named shows up at his shop, belittles him and even goes to hit him- and so sunflower basically steps in and helps
And so that’s it, please and thank you
Helping Out |Charlie
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pairing: Yuurivoice Charlie x fem! reader
warnings: smut, blowjob, dom? reader, sub Charlie
summary: Pete has been working Charlie to the bone, which means Charlie doesn't have a lot of time to relax so you decide to be a sweet girlfriend and help destress.
a/n: I've been having a bad case of writers block so this is kind of shitty.
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Charlie had to work overtime at Pete's because today they just so happened to be SEVERELY understaffed, unfortunately for him this wasn't the first time this week he had to work overtime so he was absolutely exhausted.
You could tell by the look in his eyes every time he came home that he was tired and was extremely stressed out, making you feel sorry for your poor boyfriend.
You were currently sitting on your bed, which you shared with Charlie, waiting for him to come home. As you waited for him to come home you checked the clock on the night stand. It was already 11:30?! You started to worry that he'd never come home. (You were being dramatic but still, you wondered if he'd come home soon or at least come home today).
As you thought about the whereabouts of your boyfriend you heard the front door open then close. Charlie walked into your guy's shared bedroom looking even more tired than yesterday, which made you quite upset. He shouldn't have to stay over time and get paid minimum wage.
"How was work today Chuck?" You asked in a sweet and soft tone, not wanting to be too loud since he had to deal with bitchy customers loud and obnoxious voices all day. "It was fine, Pete was just up my ass all day, you know the usual." He said as he kicked off his shoes and took off his black zip up sweater vest.
"I'm sorry." You replied, feeling sorry for him, having to deal with his boss. "You have nothing to be sorry for Cas, plus it's bringing in money I guess." He said, mumbling the last bit of his sentence. "I mean yeah but you should enjoy work, not come home feeling like shit." You said. It wasn't okay that he was coming back home feeling like crap then going to bed, waking up, going back to work, and restarting the cycle all over again.
"Well there's nothing I can really do." That was true, there was nothing he could really do. The jobs were all minimum wage and kinda shady, and the ones that weren't, you needed a really good resume, which he didn't really have considering the fact that he's quite literally worked for shady people and done shady things, and working for Pete of course.
While Charlie was in the shower washing off all the sweat and grime from that day, you tried to figure out a way to relax your boyfriend. He was off tomorrow, maybe you could just make the day all about him since he's been having bad days for the past week. Good cuddles, breakfast, maybe even take him shopping for some new clothes. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Charlie came out of the bathroom drying off his hair by shaking it like a dog, wearing black and red plaid pajama pants.
He plopped himself on the left side of you, pushing his head back against the pillow and sighing heavily. You got up and decided you'd start his special treatment tonight.
You laid yourself on Charlie's stomach, making him look at you, your faces a couple inches away from each other. "Chuck, can I ask you something?" You said. "Uh sure? What is it?" He said in response, his face slightly flushed from how close you were to his crotch, and from the shower. "Can I.. take care of you tonight?" You asked shyly. This wasn't the first time you guys have had sex but it was a bit more awkward due to the fact that he looked like he was about to pass out at any moment. "You really don't have to Cas, I won't be able to really give you anything back because I feel I'm about to pass the fuck ou-" Before he could finish his sentence you covered his mouth with your hand. "You don't have to give me anything back I just..wanna take care of you tonight." You said, looking at him compassionately. You wanted tonight to be about him and him only.
"I don't want anything in return, I can tell you've been really stressed out and I want to help you relax." You say as you take your hand off his mouth, waiting for a response. He sighs. "Okay." He knew you were pretty stubborn so it would be pretty much impossible for him to disagree with not giving you anything back in return.
You slid the rest of your body down his stomach to in between his legs. You grabbed the front of his pants and his boxers and pulled them down, his cock springing out.
You look at him to see his reaction but he's just looking at you with wide eyes, his face flushed even more than before. You look back down to his cock and give it a small kiss before slowly and carefully taking it all in your mouth, making him lean back into the pillow and moan.
You started to slowly suck him off, not wanting him to cum too fast. "C-cas can I put my hands in your hair please?" He asked. "Mhm." Is all you could say, not wanting to stop.
You started to pick up the pace, making him moan louder. Now the only thing you could hear was Charlie's moans and whimpers and the sound of you sucking him.
You could tell Charlie was close by the way he was bucking his hips slowly into your mouth and the way he was intertwining pieces of your hair into his fingers. "Fuck C-Cas I'm c-close~" You started sucking him off faster and faster, drool trickling down from your mouth to your chin. Charlie was a panting mess, begging and pleading to cum in your mouth, to which you let him.
Strings of his cum shooting to the back of your throat, while you groaned, tears streaming down your face from having to keep your jaw open for so long. You took his cock out of your mouth, as you whipped your lips that were covered in your saliva and a bit of the cum that managed to escape your mouth.
As you both tried catching your breath he pulled up his pants and brought you up to his chest, wiping away the tears that were still running down your cheeks. "S-sorry Cas, was I too rough? " He said, breathing heavily still trying to catch his breath. "N-no, no, not at all." You said sounding like you were about to fall asleep at any second.
"Thank you Casper, you really know how to relax me when I need it." He said in a sleepy voice before yawning and looking down at you to see you already more than half asleep.
"You're...wel..come." You said before fully falling asleep. Charlie then smirked softly and kissed your forehead, grabbing the blanket and covering the both of you.
"Good night Cas." He said before closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep.
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☆ this was requested by @kenzib23! It's been about a month since I've posted a fanfic so here you go (I've been extremely busy and exhausted :')) my requests are open!
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eldritch-spouse · 1 year
Note
(Just want to let you know I can't make promises to post these once a week. I get writers block and life likes to kick my ass. This'll be a short one.)
Tv announcer: "Now back to our program: "Wives of Demonlords"."
In the Pride ring, the camera crew and tv interviewer was unfortunately kicked out of the castle of pride by Cero himself after attempting to interview the Pride Queen. Cero yelled out that they're wasting his wife's time with the interview and dirtying up the castle with their common filth. Pride Queen is behind him is trying to convince him that she wanted to be interviewed. They both argued with each other, and the footage cuts off.
The footage turns back on again and this time the tv interviewer and camera crew is at the castle of Wrath. Before they knocked on the front door, they heard a loud yell and turned to see the Wrath Queen covered in fresh blood, holding a war hammer and running towards them. They all screamed and ran off. Footage is cut off.
Footage is back on again. The Tv interviewer is trying to calm the Queen and just wants to ask her questions, but she ignores it as she yells out how she just wants to play fun games with her war hammer and collect their bones as trophies. The footage is cut off again.
You don't have any sort of commitment to me anon. You literally don't need to do this, I don't expect you to come here every week, or at all. Especially if it's burning you out, which it kinda reads like it is. This blog should be no one's chore.
Thank you anyway.
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slytherinshua · 12 days
Note
HELLO!!!!
so ive been dead for a couple weeks (okay im sorry but school is kicking my ass)
BUTTTT IM BACK!!!!
And SO ARE YOU!!!
zanna pls the hao fic 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
idk whether to cry or kick my feet bc wTFFFF
how are you so g o o d (you obviously worked super hard and thats so cool of you)
ALSO
CINEMA PARADISE AND 19.99 CB!!!!!!
okay so i heard good so bad right? amazing song. 10/10 and thEn i watched the mcountdown kill the romeo performance and immediately went wHOA because why did that song hIT SO HARD LIKE?!?!??! Cinema paradise is such a ricky era (to me) bc his aura was off the roof he was so super noticable (even though he was worried bc of the hair dyeing :( he still stood out so much!) Also hao was so super good zb1 keeps getting better!!
OKAY NOW LISTEN
IM NOT THE BIGGEST ONEDOOR AROUND HERE OKAY BUT IVE LISTENED TO THEIR ENTIRE DISCOGRAPHY AND WATCHED ALL THEIR PERSONAL CONTENT AND CAN I JUST SAY DANGEROUS AND NICE GUY ARE SO GOOD LIKE BND NEVER MISSES WHAT THE HECK
Taesans line in dangerous had me actually pulling out my earphones bc wtf why was that so good i was h o o k e d the secomd that song started and then nice guy was just also really good like?!?!?!? H O W do you slay that hard like whoa
ANYWAY HI ZANNA I MISSED YOUUUUUU
im glad you're out of your mini slump!!! (i have so many ideas and i want to write but i have no t i m e!!! i dont like school 😐)
-🌱 (bc you said youd miss this <3)
im sorry i rambled on a bit but yeah !!!
HI HAFS OMG!!!! omg it has been a while but dw i understand :((( school is out to get us all istg im so tired and its only the beginning of the year... AND LIKE I THOUGHT I WAS GOING CRAZY W THAT WRITERS BLOCK HOLY SHIT LIKE I COULD NOT FUNCTION WITHOUT MY DELUSIONS BEING MY ESCAPE 😭😭😭😭😭😭
BUT AAAA IM GLAD U LIKED IT <333333 thank you ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ ugh i remember like before i even properly stanned zb1 i was thinking about which members would fit studio ghibli boys and let me see if i can remember all the pairings.... honestly i think these ranged from most accurate (first 4-5) to zanna is running out of ghibli boys to assign
zhang hao as seiji
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i think i had taerae as tombo back then but now i feel like it fits gyuvin more :((
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NOW RICKY AS HOWL CAUSE WHO ELSE WOULD HE BE
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and yujin as sho!!! cause look theyre literally the same skdfjksd could 100% see yujin in an arrietty storyline to me hes just the embodiment of teen youth like coming of age stories rly fit him so well
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gunwook as pazu bcuz i have to satisfy my childhood crush and my current crush (also they look the same fight me)
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honestly jiwoong as jiro???
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taerae as asbel now (literally i don't remember anything about asbel but they look kinda similar so we're going w it)
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hanbin as ashitaka bcuz i just think theyre both hot like that 🤕🤕🤕
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which leaves matthew as sosuke cause i haven't watched the boy and the heron yet so idk whether that might fit better but yeah... BUT TELL ME WHY THEY KINDA HAVE SIMILAR VIBES ANYWAY SO??
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now can we also appreciate how i tried to match the pics as close as i could thank you thank you anyway enough abt zb1 and ghibli boys
YES CINEMA PARADISE WAS SO GOOD!!! good so bad literally their best title track to date AND SAME W BND. i think nice guy is their best to date and ive seen a lot of ppl who like dangerous more than nice guy which is valid i also love dangerous BUT IMO NICE GUY IS PERFECT AND BETTER THAN DANGEROUS???? 👹👹👹
ricky will always stand out no matter what !!!!! even tho his hair was plain it still drew attention to him like the contrast of black hair to his skin is crazy and he looks like a whole prince (when does he ever not) BUT OMG HAO IN THE MV WRECKED ME SOOOO HARD like i think good so bad mv is the reason why hao is #2 in zb1 ranking for me rn skdfjskdfs ALSO CAN WE TALK ABT PURPLE GUNWOOK CAUSE NO IM STILL NOT OVER PURPLE GUNWOOK even tho hes had it for a while now i still look at it and then die skdfjksdhfks
IF THERES ONE THING BONEDO WILL DO ITS RELEASE BANGERS EVERY TIME!!! i swear they always stay true to their sound and concept and i LOVE that about them. every song feels SO boynextdoor but at the same time they try different sounds and tell different stories with each song. i also just adore their storytelling in their mvs and songs its so good every time!!!! and im excited to see what they release next bcuz it seems theyre doing a youth concept now that theyre done their falling in love trilogy
awwww nooo i hope u find time soon 👹 it can be so hard to find time to write sometimes istg.... but you'll manage i believe in u !!! KSDJFKSD I DID MISS IT OMG
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Text
Writing Advice - Answering an Ask part 1
Hey everyone!! I recently got a super cute, beautiful and heartwarming ask requesting writing advices/how to beat writers block.
I wrote the answer on a doc and it has 3 pages, so I'm gonna be posting it in different parts - do forgive and AMAZING ANON WHO ASKED ME I HOPE YOU SEE THIS, IT'S PART OF YOUR ANSWER xD
Seriously, I've been sitting on this answer for a week now thinking how I'm gonna make it shorter >.<
So, without further ado, for the first part of the answer, I wanna tell a little bit about my writing journey - how I got from "not writing at all" to where I am now.
Because people think that you have a gift and words just flow like ambrosia in the cups of the gods - but I've actually started writing some pretty cringe stuff when I was 10 years old to get to a more poetic sort-of writing during my 29s currently.
THEREFORE, a little bit on how I got from cringy to still cringy but sometimes good writing ;)
I started by telling made-up stories to my sister when she couldn’t sleep and to my cousins during sleepovers because, I don’t know, they seemed to like my stupid little stories when I was 7 years old – or even younger. Sometimes I wrote some things, sometimes I didn't. But I was telling stories!
When I was 13, I discovered the magic world of fanfiction, and I wrote and published a HORRID thing on a fanfic website in my country, based on the band McFly that me and my sister adored back then (the gods have graced me with the power of deleting it and I thank immensely to that).
It was the first time I wrote AND published something to an audience outside of my friends/family.
After that, I kept on writing, and I moved to creating my own stories. When I was 14, I wrote a fanfic with the same band, but really the main theme was that I was an archeologist living in Egypt who researched on Atlantis and ended up finding the lost city. Somehow, I was allowed to climb the pyramids as well - because, you know, I ADORE Tomb Raider, and if Lara Croft could do it, so could I.
Told ya there would be some pretty cringy stuff in here, huh? xD
When I turned 15, I was bullied non-stop at school and so creating stories became my way to escape reality and have some fun with the people I wanted to meet in my life. I started carrying a notebook everywhere with me – it was my writing notebook. I had so many stories, and I never finished any of them (and good heavens, they are THE MOST cringy stuff, I’m glad they will NEVER see the light of day).
But I use the writing notebook thing to this day - whenever I'm travelling and internet isn't granted, I have somewhere to write.
I finished my FIRST novel when I was 16!! I was SO HAPPY about it!! It took me a year and a half writing it: a young adult book, kinda like Twilight (it was THE thing back then), with a secret society based on Arthurian Legend because I was a sucker for everything King Arthur (still am).
I can’t BEAR to read the first page of it nowadays, because c’mon. It was 15-year-old depressive me being bitter about everything and post-Twilight frenzy. The universe and worldbuilding has one HELL of a potential, but oh LORDS, it IS painful to read. I was a teen after all… But I finished a novel! If I haven’t done it, I wouldn’t be writing the way I’m writing today!
When I got into Law School, things got a little slow. I couldn't focus too much on writing and my social life improved a lot. I started tweaking my Arthurian story, but nothing too defined - I kept on writing lots of WIPs, though.
Around my 20’s, while I was close to graduating Law School, I started writing again… Supernatural fanfiction. With the SOLE PURPOSE of self-indulging, because I couldn’t find A SINGLE fanfiction that I could self-insert and love Dean Winchester while kicking some demon ass (sorry, I couldn’t resist the Nico inside me).
That led me to writing a 4-part Supernatural fanfiction that, honestly, for the next 6 years, it was the thing that made my heart soar while I was slaving away at a job I hated.
While I was overworking my ass off, I started writing (brace yourselves...) BTS fanfiction. I got into the band and some people from the website I wrote my Supernatural fanfic embraced me and kinda put me in the group and into the BTS world.
I was on the path of a burnout, so that became my escape - the girls from the website were so nice and we had many MANY writing projects of short stories. Throughout the years, I think I wrote around 25 or 30 stories, 40 pages max, to publish on this website and just have fun.
It started nice, but as time went by and I started moving out of the rom-com clichés (which are nice, don't get me wrong, we all love 'em) and became more existential and philosophic with a lot of metaphorical things while writing - and people stopped reading my work. I started to think I was bad, no one wanted to read because I lacked quality in my writing, or just my stories weren't so appealing as I thought. So I lost my will to write and slowly went back to my personal original stories.
When I hit 25 years old, I got fired and had a full burnout. I got really sick and my life literally stopped for the last 5 years - it has been hard, but that gave me time to sit back on my computer and recover ALL the books and stories I never finished writing.
I am NOT joking, I just counted all of them, and I have 65 DIFFERENT unfinished stories sitting on my Word folder right now on my computer. I also have a txt file I keep some “ideas that might be interesting to work on” and those have around 12 different full ideas of stories I might never write as well.
Upon hitting 27, I went back to writing niche fanfiction I didn't think anyone would want to read, so I published it here. I thought no one would want to read Devil May Cry fanfiction written by a woman who clearly worries more about the internal turmoil of characters rather than if what I'm writing is cute/rom-com like.
I opted for a more adult approach - given Dante and Vergil are adult men with lots of traumas, and I thought "hey, I don't have to write teenage things anymore, I can actually write how two adults would have difficult conversations and relationships in this fucked up world of ours" and that made a HUGE difference to my writing.
and once again thank the gods I found my people who like to read this sort of stuff :)
For quite a while, I was worried if what I was writing was consumable - you know, if the romance was that kind of tacky romantic thing to sweep you of your feet with perfect characters who don't exist, if people only have good times and are always laughing and having fun, if people enjoy touching each other 24/7 and being romantic and all that sugar coated stuff, if what I'm writing is politically correct, if it hasn't any subjects that are triggering or "wrong" in any sort of capacity... And that stiffed me. I lost my will to write and I stopped enjoying it, because I couldn't get my ideas out anymore.
Being quite honest, I'm not a person who had an easy, beautiful life. I had many things happen to me that made me understand Vergil on a soul level (and I think that's why I'm so comfortable writing him, as much as I hate that man), because I'm wary of people and my trust issues make me keep everyone at bay. I can only put my feelings safely out on my writing and my music, and I wasn't being able to.
So I tossed everything out of the window and started writing unhinged stuff. And oh, that made me feel SO good! I always smile a lot when re-reading my Cyberpunk-style story and a character called Abby tattoos on the ass of a corporate man that he is hers bitch, and when a "fallen angel" from my vampiric story smiles creepily and tells everyone she's got the most unhinged vampire on a leash and tells him to just kill everyone in the room for sheer revenge.
Not the best, politically correct stuff. Very wrong, by the way. But I had so much fun writing them, and it has so much character building behind these actions, it makes me feel nice :)
Out of all the 65 WIPs on my computer, I have around 5 that I think are really worth it for a full novel and so. They are:
My Arthurian Legend based novels. I outlined a series, I made character sheets, I planned and planned and planned... Since I'm 15, I've been thinking about it. Someday, who knows, this story will see the light of day.
My Cyberpunk-style novel. Halfway through it and every time I go "oh this is too heavy, I can't write this" I just toss the thought out of the window and go for it. Quite unhinged, very existential and grim, everyone is depressed and traumatized, but I love it :)
The Angel-Vampire stuff. Or, as I call it sometimes, the trip of an angel-like being going through the 7 deadly sins until finally falling for good, all aided by the most unhinged vampire in town. It's more like a villain origin story than anything else.
The Tea Shop thing. Oh, this one has been on my mind since 2018 and only now I've found some plot I like for it. Creation (yes, humanized form of creation) runs a tea shop and everything is fine until a woman enters and she has no Universe inside her eyes - and that is something to be afraid of. Doesn't make sense? Oh, yes, indeed. I'm going crazy with the concepts on this one, thanks to Neil Gaiman and The Sandman.
The rockstar guardian angel one. That's it. It's literally what the premise says: a woman has a dead rockstar as a guardian angel - and they couldn't be more opposite of each other. It doesn't help she's investigating his death and can talk to ghosts.
And my original vampire story, which I just call Nathan and Kathleen. I started this one when I was 16 or 17, so the writing is VERY cringy. I had just seen The Witcher 2 gameplay and, by then, I had never seen anything like it. As it's expected, I'm re-writing the 150 pages of unfinished work I already have.
Will this stop me from writing the other WIPs whenever I want to? Nah. I’ll keep on writing. Even if they are bad or horribly cringy.
Why am I blabbering about ALL this???
Because the most important stuff you can do is write.
You see, I didn't start out writing the way I do today - and I have so many stories, with so many pages, that I like so much, but I read it nowadays and I see I need to re-work them. And that's how you evolve! That's how you get better! By refining your abilities!
This is something I learned with the rockstars I love so much. None of them started out by playing perfectly - most of them had to sit down, listen and learn their instruments on their own. They got a LOT of things wrong to start getting something very simple right. And the more they play, the more they train, the more they refine, the better they become.
The same goes to writing - so, keep on writing! Everything you can, as much as you can, don’t feel bad about starting something new and never finishing another one, and don’t feel like you need to put out a masterpiece every time you sit to write.
Sometimes you just need to… Write.
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heeliopheelia · 1 year
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Guysss I'm so sorry for not posting anything for the past week but life kinda got in the way and the writer's block is lowkey kicking my ass rn 🤧 I'll try to write something as soon as I get more time tho!! Please, be patient with me, babes 🤞😚
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nowimyurdaisy · 1 year
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Hiiii I finished my exams and honestly school is a pain in my ass 😭😭😭(I passed everything and got distinction for some)
How are you? I hope You are well super excited to see what you come up with next
-🐨
So glad school is out, it was kicking my ass. I'm glad you passed 💗! I plan to write a bunch this week, I've kinda hit a writer's block BUT I finally have some inspo, so I'm gonna write some of your requests :) I'm doing well and I hope you are too 🩷🩷
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slasher-male-wife · 2 years
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Slashers with an s/o who loves to cook and bake for them
I know this probably suck but like I’ve been saying constantly writers block is kicking my ass so this is the best I got until someone send in a request. I kinda clustered the Sawyer brothers and the Sinclair brothers together too just cause. Hope y’all enjoy
Includes: Billy Lenz, Bubba, Nubbins and Chop Top Sawyer, and The Sinclair Brothers 
Billy Lenz
You were always the one who cooked the most at the college house. You usually made food for everyone for dinner and breakfast at least and you’d make some kind of dessert once a week. 
Billy loves your cooking and ate it before you even met him, often talking about you in the calls he would make. 
Once you two actually knew each other Billy would request foods that he loves when you make it so you try to make enough for Billy too. 
If you make cookies one week you make another batch for Billy. If you make pancakes one morning you’ll make a few extra for Billy. 
You’ll usually be the one who brings the food to Billy and sit with him while he eats. He’ll always talk about how good your food tastes and how much he loves his ‘pretty piggy’ making food for him. 
He’s not really used to actual home cooked foods because he hopped from college house to house just eating whatever they had which wasn’t always the best food. So you cooking for him is something so new and amazing for him. 
The Sawyer brothers
Before you came Drayton was the only one who cooked and he was pretty good at it but you brought something new. He still cooked with you but you worked on the non meat areas of food. You started a garden at the house and bake bread for them to eat. 
You usually prioritize what Bubba wants to eat because he’s the nicest to you most of the time. But if Nubbins or Chop Top get on your good side you’ll make something they like too. 
When you bake Bubba loves to help you, and he’s pretty good at it too. You’ll teach him how to make some non american desserts too if you can like macaroons, flan cake, Turkish delights, etc. 
You’ll also try to get Drayton to make other types of food with his meat. If you’re lucky you’ll get him to use non human meat a few times a week. 
The boys would really like your cooking and if Drayton was busy one day he’d probably have you make dinner or if you wake up before him or he has to go to the gas station early you’ll the the one making breakfast but no ones complaining about your cooking. 
The Sinclair Brothers
Before you came Vincent or Lester cooked and it wasn’t always the best food. Because they couldn’t often run to the store most of the meat they used was from Lester and his road kill which isn’t the highest quality meat. That or they just eat pre cooked food they have to heat up. 
Like with the Sawyers you’d start a garden for the boys and take over cooking for them. Lester’s gonna be the one mainly coming to you with the food and stuff. He’ll cut up the meat for you and you’ll have to learn from him how to cook deer meat. 
If you complain about how you have a lack of ingredients Lester would suggest getting some farm animals to make up for it and Vincent would agree with him but Bo would obviously say no and just stock up as much as he can while at the store. 
The all love your cooking even though at first Bo’s gonna act like it’s just ok because he’s bit of a bitch but you’ll know he likes it when there’s a slight look of disapointment on his face when you have to cook something pre made because you got busy. He’ll bring whatever lunch you make for him down to the garage and Lester will take his too. 
When you bake it’ll probably be gone within a few days of making it. Like I said they haven’t had real quality food for awhile so this is like gold to them. Lester will request a lot of pies and stuff like that while Bo prefers when you bake breads and stuff. Vincent is fine with whatever but he likes when you make cakes so he can ice them. 
Bo might gift you some of his moms old aprons after awhile and act like it’s no big deal but you know this is emotional for him. 
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braineater444 · 3 years
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Memory 5: All Things Considered
[Back/Next] [Table of Contents]
A/N: Guess who the fuck is writing again??? Took me a while to rework this story because I didn't like the way I was writing it with my relatively shit writing style (and because writers block was kicking my ass) but I've grown since then. I've gotten way sexier and way cooler so none of that matters anymore.
Warnings: Mental breakdown? Kinda? Everything is relatively calm this chapter, No smut lol this is fluff by my standards :D
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You might’ve been three weeks along in the healing process with your wrists? You don’t remember and it doesn’t really matter; all that needs to be said is that your wrists were still useless. Rindō would call you exactly that too — useless. It hadn’t hurt coming from him, but knowing that they expected you to be some sort of maid after you got your hands back was dreadful enough.
You and Rindō got into it a lot. He was childish, so frustratingly childish. Like a boy with a crush, he’d fuck with you to no end, but there was never any soft-heartedness behind it. Rindō would coax you into a conflict just to hurt you anyway he knew how. He was not as sweet as he looked, fluffy purple hair be damned.
Once you cried and shockingly, it wasn’t Rindōs fault. He actually hadn’t been around that whole day to subject you to his soul crushing power trip.
That night you were with Kakucho sliding on house slippers. He’d just finished bathing you and helping you put on the silk pajamas you’d picked out. It had been a rather silent ordeal; you’d preferred to do things like bathing alone. But you’d adjusted to not doing things alone by then.
Maybe, that night you’d gotten too in your head — thinking about what went wrong and being free again were things that crossed your mind often and typically got brushed aside. You never let yourself dwell on such things because every time you did, you’d do something stupid and end up hurt. Shit, not too long ago Sanzu had nearly knocked out one of your teeth at the mere suggestion that you be allowed a phone. He hadn’t taken kindly to the idea that you thought of him as stupid enough to even try that.
In the silence of that bath, you’d accepted defeat and therefore accept that you’d never make it out of that expensive purgatory alive. The realization was sudden (or at least you hadn’t been able to push it off the way you’d like anymore) and it hit you like a ton of bricks.
The waterworks had started at the door to your room, where you usually stayed for the rest of the night after bathing and just stared at the ceiling or something. Kakucho was nice enough to walk you to your room every night, and he’d been nice enough to wrap his arms around you when you broke down. It was like he understood everything you were going through as he comforted you with a soft “I know, I know” and “Poor girl”, but that was impossible. You didn’t care, though. His hand rubbing down your back was a rare kindness, and you’d take it any day of the week in this place.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you sobbed into his chest. You’d been so upset your body was shaking. For the first time, it’d truly felt like your world was crumbling and there was no going back. You were scratched so raw by these past few weeks and it had finally come to a head.
“Yes, you can. You’re stronger than this, right?”
And of course you nodded. Why wouldn’t you nod? Kakucho had a way about himself that made absolute rock bottom feel like a place you were meant to be. You’d even bent when he asked you if you wanted to sit on the balcony and calm down because he’d just been that good of a sweet talker.
You wanted nothing to do with him or anybody else who may have been in that house. If anyone else had suggested you step outside with them, you would’ve lashed out, but Hitto, without a doubt, had his draw.
For three hours straight, you two sat together as you cried and Hitto pretended to give a fuck about you. With the way he talked you through it, he’d seemed like an old friend that just wanted you to feel whole again. It was unrealistic, but you’d lived in delusion for that fleeting moment.
The wind blew as if to dry your tears personally and the cold had never felt more comfortable.
After that night, instead of staying cooped up in your room with your thoughts and waiting for the next man to violate you, you started coming out to the balcony. The sliding doors weren’t a hassle to open and sometimes it was nice to just sit and stare at the bustling world below you imagining a life outside of this. Making up stories for the people you could hardly see and getting lost in them had become your favorite pastime. You’d only been allowed to decompress so much. You weren’t given peace often.
Kokonoi would frequently like to join you on the balcony and you accepted him because you had no say in the matter and fighting him might’ve only made things worse.
“You could’ve been one of my girls,” He’d once said and then it clicked why he would call you names that weren’t your own occasionally. “You’re real pretty, it’s a shame you’re not making any money. If I got to you first...”
Kokonoi was a man whose air was expensive. He smelled heavenly and was easy on the eyes. It was hard to believe he was involved with men like this from his looks alone. He had a level of charisma, whereas everyone else seemed to have the heart dragged out of them and were rough around the edges. He looked pampered to no end and nothing about such a life suited him.
After a while, you’d become accustomed to Kokonoi joining you outside and taking up a space at the wooden table you typically sat at. He’d light a cigarette, cross his legs and stare out into the city while elbowing his way into a conversation with you. Koko was one guy you couldn’t bring yourself to hate fully; he was like Kakucho in that — he had a softness about him.
It had been a dull cloudy morning; cold but windless when you first actually tried in a conversation with him on that balcony. Before, it had just been you giving dull response after dull response, but that morning you entertained his talkativeness. Kakucho had left immediately after feeding you. There was nothing better to do.
“You can’t talk to someone else about this?” You’d stopped him mid-sentence about the lack of water in this place. He hadn’t been wrong. You’d been drinking tap water for a while. Alcohol or juice were your only two choices besides the tap. You preferred not to drink alcohol and Sanzu would frequently drink juice directly from its container.
He’d halted at your question and took a drag from his cigarette before saying, “You know, I don’t have any friends, right?” and letting the acrid smell of smoke fill the air. He wasn’t seeking sympathy and surely didn’t get any out of you.
“Are they not your friends?”
A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes met yours. He’d seemed amused by the question, like he’d been waiting for someone to ask. “No, not really.”
“Hm?”
“I think we’re all together for the sake of convenience, you know…” and you shake your head because you don’t know. “Life like this is all we’ve known since we were kids. For someone like me, making an honest living would be too hard by now.” He took one last drag before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray.
“That doesn’t make them not your friends.” He’d chuckled, and you were sure you were missing something.
“I guess it doesn’t. I’d just prefer anyone else.” He leaned back in his seat and paused for a second to take in the cloudy sky above. “They mean little to me outside of monetary gain and the risk of being killed.”
“Harsh.”
“No, I’m just being honest with myself. Some of us don’t do that.” Kokonoi had proven himself to be quite the shit talker after that, but he wouldn’t jeopardize himself by stepping out of line. Sure, he judged everyone and everything, but he’d shown to keep to himself more often than not. Still, when Kokonoi was afforded the space to speak without repercussions, he’d take full advantage of it.
One afternoon he’d come to the balcony pissed and called Ran “nothing but a destructive enabler” when it came to Rindō. You listened in silence as he ranted on about Mikey being able to have a literal drug addict on a tighter leash than Ran could his [comparatively] normal little brother. Apparently, Ran said it was because they were both adults now, that he didn’t feel the need to admonish Rindō for all things he did wrong. Koko thinks it’s only because Ran likes how out of line his brother is. You agreed, but your reasons differed from his.
Ran seemed far too fond of his brother’s abuse toward you and you doubt that Koko ever was on the receiving end of anything similar to what you experienced.
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