#‘the event seemed to STUMP him’

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Nightmares

Satoru fluff, NO NSFW, cute little drabble of satoru being a teen dad to kid!megumi

Single teen dad!Satoru who has no idea about how kids work. He never expected to hold the sole responsibility of a child at 17. He acted before he could thoroughly think it through. All he knew was that Megumi deserved a childhood, a proper childhood — not one that the Zenin clan would provide to him.

Single teen dad!Satoru who rarely sleeps anymore after the events with Suguru and the star plasma vessel. Anytime he slept, he was plagued with the most gruesome nightmares. He spends his evenings putting Megumi to bed (the kid practically put himself to bed). Then, he’d stay up late working on homework and mastering his infinity technique.

Single teen dad!Satoru who is well aware of how independent Megumi is. Megumi never had a parental figure to rely on when he was younger. He had completely learned to care for himself with the help of his sister. Hell, Satoru was certain that Megumi could probably teach himself how to do taxes.

That’s why when single teen dad!Satoru saw little Megumi walk into the common area late at night with a puffy red face from crying, he knew something was up.

“Hey Buddy.” Satoru’s voice was gentle and quiet as he was sitting on the couch, rereading the same paragraph over and over again for class. “You need somethin’?”

Megumi wiped his eyes and looked over at Satoru. “Can I have a glass of milk?” He asked in such a small raspy voice. The way he asked for a cup of milk while his little fingers were twirling through his hair pulled on Satoru’s heartstrings. The teenager knew that Megumi was trying to self soothe.

“Yeah, I’ll get you a glass.” Satoru said as he got up off of the couch and poured Megumi a glass of milk. The small child took it with two hands and took a drink of it. Satoru observed him for a moment, noting how Megumi seemed to he malingering when he’d usually run off by now. He finished his glass of milk and stood there for a moment, looking back towards his room with unease in his eyes.

Satoru was smart enough to know that Megumi needed help going back to sleep, but if Satoru tried to outright coddle him, Megumi would adamantly refuse.

“Hey, it’s a good thing you’re awake, kiddo.” Satoru says as he goes and sits back down on the couch. He pats the spot next to him, and small Megumi crawled up onto the couch next to him.

“Why?” Megumi asked curiously.

“Well, I need your help.” Satoru said as he grabbed a worksheet from his stack of homework. “I’m stumped. Can I read you this problem?”

“Yeah.. I guess so..”

So, Satoru read to Megumi as he slowly wrapped his arm around the small child. He was careful when he started to rub Megumi’s unruly hair to soothe the small kid.

Megumi’s eyes went all droopy as for the first time in his life he felt safe and secure. He was with in the care of the strongest sorcerer, his dad.

Satoru let out a small huff of amusement as Megumi’s head rested against his arm, and he sat the worksheet down. Not wanting to disturb the small child, he got comfortable on the couch, and the two slept peacefully.

Neither of their dreams were plagued with nightmares.

Megumi had saved Satoru just as much as Satoru had saved him.

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS PART

Uptown Girl (Part Two)

Summary: As the war of words, and destruction of inanimate objects continues between you and the blue eyed squatter in your home, Mr Thomas Shelby. You are pulled back into reality from the distraction of his presence and quickly reminded of your impending, dreaded nuptials when your fiance pays you a visit. But with the Birmingham gangsters observing eyes never missing a thing. What will he make of your husband to be's unruly hand when he sees the true nature of your relationship, and that of the man you're set to marry?

Warnings: Language, angst, manipulation, domestic violence, use of one racial slur

Word Count: 4332

Authors Note: £17,000 British sterling pound in 1924, is worth £850,000 in todays value.

" Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr Abbott" you graciously greeted the piano tuner as you walked him to the main living area, crossing your arms in an attempt to put a stop to your fidgeting hands, and the relentless twiddling of your anxious fingers. How on earth were you going to explain this one? you smiled nervously to the portly man sporting an impressive moustache. It's perfectly curled, whiskery ends reaching the very tops of his wind-chapped cheeks.

After the previous days' eventful morning and a much warranted reminder that you were in fact, living with a gun-welding gangster. Tommy, your unwelcome housemate, single handedly took it upon himself to move your bullet-ridden grand piano into the living room and away from the vicinity of his quarters and ringing ears.

And with one morning of your musical skills having been missed, you were keen to reset the alarm for the following day. Or so, that's what you thought.

" What seems to be the problem then, Miss?" the man that had once sold you the precious musical instrument queried. His passion for his craft rarely seeing him leave his workshop where he preferred the sound of the ivory keys more than any human voice.

" Oh, just a small one" you replied, pushing the wooden door open. "A missing key" you found a way around to describe the charred bullet hole in the non existent note of B. B for bastard, you thought to yourself and the vandal that had destroyed it as your brow furrowed in confusion at the renowned craftsman who was now wide-eyed as you both stepped into the room.

"Oh, well this...this..." words stumped you as you turned your head to see your once glossy piano now in a piled heap of wood in the middle of the room. The hatchet used for it's barbaric destruction embedded at the very point of its woody mountain.

" Excuse me, for just, one moment" you forced a smile through the fury rapidly bubbling under your skin as you quickly turned on your heel, leaving the horrified pianist alone with the piano he had poured his love, sweat and tears into crafting as he pitifully pressed his finger down onto the only remaining chiming key of C. C for...

"Mr Shelby!" you shouted marching through the corridors in search of the only person capable of committing such a monstrosity as you came to a stop in front of the office door. Your learnt manners quickly escaping you when you stormed through without the polite formalities a lady such as yourself would possess, having had a governess for the majority of your childhood years.

"Mr Shelby!" You repeated, flying pass the opening door to see the squatters sleeves rolled up, a peak of chest hair visible through the open top button of his collared shirt your flustered stare had witnessed twice in already twenty-four hours. Hardly gentlemanly, you scoffed to yourself as your heated cheeks darted away from his causal choice of attire.

" On the mantel", Tommy said mid conversation, looking up from the papers between his fingers to the young worker with a brassy ornament in his hand.

"Mr..."

" No Beethoven this morning, eh?" He stopped you as he leant back into his leather chair with a satisfied smirk etched on his lips as you strutted forward, and the young employee made a swift exit. "Or maybe some, Mozart?" His lips tightened into a smile as he subtly cocked his head to the side, reaching for a much needed drag of a cigarette the stress of your presence gave him.

" What is all this?" you looked around the room, forgetting your barrage of accusations when your eyes widened at the many various objects he had added to your father's office to replace the ones you had hoarded.

" Oh, no, no, no. This won't do, this won't do one bit!" you said in horror, piling them into your arms whilst you made your way around the room as Tommy's scrunched brow followed you until you came to a stop in front of him. " This is my office you've just come in and commandeered. And my piano, you..."

" I think you mean my piano. In my living room. In my house, no?" Tommy corrected you as he lit a cigarette, his squinting eyes skimming over your figure hugging dress. You weren't exactly making it easy for him to look away. To ignore your bossy presence, he thought to himself as his blue-eyed stare lingered longer than intended before he snapped himself away from his wandering eyes and stood up, adjusting his tailored waistcoat.

" Look, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot" he said, playing the peace maker in attempt to replace the ferocious frown boring into him.

"The wrong foot?" You scoffed, shaking your head as he perched himself casually on the edge of the oak desk in front of you, the playful glint in his eyes toying with you through the cloud of smoke seeping from the rolled cylinder of tobacco between his fingers. " We got off on the wrong foot, the moment your foot stepped into my house and you shot, then destroyed my piano"

" Right. So those early wake up calls weren't to piss me off then? Drive me out, eh?" he cocked a brow as his tongue ran across his bottom lip, the slappable smile now teasingly glaring back at you, further irritating you.

"I...I"

"Yes, Y/N?" His brows raised, waiting for the smart response he knew your brain was trying to scramble together as he continued to keep you on a first name basis.

" I..." You stopped yourself, before you blurted something you would later berate your flustered brain for saying.

"Just so you're aware, Mr Shelby. I happen to play the violin too" you said as you wittiness finally caught up with the anger demanding all the free space in your head. "And poorly" you finished, stealing the smugness sitting on his teasing smirk as you quirked a brow. His widening eyes coming to the quick realisation that if he was going to get even an ounce of sleep to fill his notorious lack in slumber, there would need to be an urgent manhunt for the destruction of every musical instrument you possessed.

" Have at it, love" Tommy's heavy footing stomped after you as you turned for the door, his casual response hiding the protruding bone of irritation in his clenching jaw. " Last bit of fun until you're sent off to marry, eh?" He delivered the damning reminder of your predicament hot on your heels as your head snapped back to see him stood directly behind you, watching your satisfied smile drain.

" Cal Astor, no?" Tommy pointed to you, his cigarette resting loosely between the callous pads of his fingers. He'd been looking into you, gathering information, your mind urgently tried to weigh out how much he had learnt of your dire situation as your sharp glare met his. " One of the top ten richest men in the country. What a catch" he slipped the attained details of your fiance's status to you with a smirk.

" Tell me, Y/N. Why would a young lady such as yourself, weeks from marrying into one of the wealthiest families in the country care so much for bricks and mortar? " He questioned, blowing a cloud of smoke into the room as his interrogating stare bore into you while you stood momentarily lost for words once again.

"Oh, Sissy?" your brothers irritating pet name called to you from the foyer as a palpable silence settled in the room, pressuring one of you to make the first move.

" You have a guest, love" Tommy's gravelly voice broke the tension as he raised his brows, his challenging glare undisrupted from your brothers bellowing voice.

In a dramatic display of discontent for not only the way he had intruded into your home, but also, the details of your private life he had infringed on. You purposely released the items in your arms to the floor, when the sharp end of an ugly ornament stabbed you in the toe in the process, eclipsing your unfaltering stance to not have the stranger in front of you win another battle in the war he had declared.

Stifling the whelping pain now throbbing through your foot, Tommy waited and watched with curiosity. Thoroughly impressed that the lady in front of him, born with heirs and graces, had gone so long without a mere whimper, or foul-mouthed word. Was you really that bloody stubborn?

Holding in your impending scream, you swiftly turned your back and made your way out the door. Hobbling to the nearest wall, a stroppy, frustrated, grunt of pain left your lips while you lifted your throbbing foot, clutching your toe in pain as Tommy breathed out a heavy sigh and fell into the leather upholstered chair behind the wall next to you. How long would you both keep this up until you came to a solution? And how many toes, ornaments and any other inanimate object would be sacrificed in the process?

" Ahh there she is. My dear, sister" Johnathan greeted you as you walked forward through the bruising pain you had unintentionally inflicted on yourself.

" How's the houseguest?"

" Trespasser, Johnathan" you corrected him as you winced from one foot to the other, trying to ease the pressure of your swelling toe.

" Blimey, that bad?" he chuckled resting his heavy arm over your shoulders, forcing you back on to two feet with a shudder of pain. " Don't fret baby sister, church bells will be ringing soon. Then you'll be rid of this gloomy dump!" he said, squeezing you into him with a rough pat to your arm.

"Aha! Speaking of the husband to be" Johnathan said letting go as you looked up at the smartly polished dress shoes walking your way. Your stomach dropping at the sound of his voice beckoning closer.

" Darling" a voice broke through your brother's chatter as your fiance snaked his hand around your waist, leaning into your cheek.

" Cal" you meekly voiced as you turned your head away from him, earning you a scornful glare and a sharp squeeze to your hip.

"Playing hard to get are we?" Cal scoffed a laugh through his pearly whites, the insult of you refusing his affection in front of company further angering him and his tightening grasp that had become prone to landing blows to your delicate skin.

" You won't see my sister give in that easily, Cal" Johnathan laughed through the cigar between his teeth, oblivious as per usual to the true nature of his friend and acquaintance he had latched on to. Or rather, money he had latched on to.

"Indeed" Cal looked down at you with a smirk, having already had his way with you.

A moment of fear, of weakness. You told yourself when you had given into his forceful demands as he hitched up your dress whilst his heavy frame climbed on top of you.

Coerced, guilted, or even a last plea of naive hope on your part to have him finally let you be if you gave him what he wanted, you'd tell yourself in moments of reflection and sorrow for the part of yourself you lost that night when you dulled his predatory insistence with whatever drink you could find. Was that why you gave him so much power? Because he was your first intimate, and now tainted experience?

" Frances, one moment!" Johnathan called, jogging after your housekeeper as he watched her hurry away from your brother's long list of demands she knew she'd be dumped with if she didn't make a quick escape.

" You disappoint me Y/N" your fiance abruptly turned you to face him, now alone together, and away from observing eyes. " Was quite the surprise when I sent a car for you the other night and it returned, empty. My fiance, missing" he said as you tried to leave when his strong grip came down on your arm, bruising through your skin. "You're not going to go missing again are you, darling?" his irritation was felt through the sarcasm laced in his words.

Too many times had you avoided his invitations, had you purposely found yourself out of town when his presence increased with the death of your father and the rules of courting he had imposed to keep any premarital scandals at bay. The only rule your father had ever implemented in your life that you were thankful for.

" No" you shook your head, your strong character once again unable to stand up to the man you had unwillingly passed so much control of your words and actions over to.

" Good girl" he chided, a satisfied smirk growing on his lips closing in on yours as you flinched at his pressing hold around your reddened wrists, forcing you to endure his embrace.

" Johnathan, the car" he smiled breaking away, releasing you from his grip as he called for your brother who childishly waited on his every word.

Stood alone in the foyer, rubbing the taste of him from your swollen lips, the bruising soreness from your bluing skin, you watched as your brother entertained the man you had become to loathe, when your tearful eyes turned to see Tommy stood between the frame of the office door, having witnessed the most vulnerable part of your existence you had shamefully hidden away.

For be it poor or rich. A woman's woes in the time you lived in were always unheard, always played down to an inaudible silence. And Tommy was no fool to think otherwise, as he too stood silently watching you walk away without a word.

Sat in the bay window of your room later that morning, you smiled as you watched the stable hand pat down your mare's dusty coat, giving her the pampering she deserved.

"Your tea, Miss" Frances announced as she walked through the door with a silver platter of England's finest, freshly brewed. " Good heavens! What ever happened to your foot?" She said upon seeing your expanding toe precariously resting on a stack of cushions and books. 

" Mr Shelby" you said as your eyes narrowed in on the trespasser now approaching your thoroughbred down in the courtyard.

" Mr Shelby did this?" Frances' eyes widened upon hearing your accusations as she examined your lack of care for your swelling digit doubling in size.

" No, Mr Shelby's ghastly ornament did that" you said briefly looking at your propped-up foot before your attention returned to outside. " What on earth is he doing?" You curiously observed the squatter, his presence a welcome distraction to your impending nuptials and crippling worries. Not that you would admit it, of course.

" Oh my" Frances's hand flew to her chest as she watched the bridle being adjusted to your saddleless horse. " I should go warn him" Frances turned to leave when you hoped up with a giddy smile as you searched for the shoe you would force to fit around your ballooning foot.

" No, no" you gently rested your hand on your housekeeper's arm, stopping her from sabotaging your fun. " Let him find out himself" you grinned as you limped to the door, leaving Frances shaking her head disapprovingly at the woman she had cared for since she was a rosy-cheeked baby, toddling from one foot to the other.

Stood by the stable door, you curiously watched as Tommy whispered words of gentle reassurance to your horse, brushing his hand down her muzzle as your steps apprehensively approached closer, unsure if the topic of conversation would be your finances heavy hand he saw earlier that day, you wished not to discuss.

" How's your toe?" Tommy asked, his cigarette resting loosely between his lips as he turned to face you with an emerging smile dimpling the corners of his eyes.

" My toe? Good as new" you lied, badly, as you crossed your arms at the amusing chuckle leaving your unwanted guests' lips." You should saddle her" you warned him as you watched him lead her towards you, secretly hoping he would continue his refusal to listen to your bossy demands.

" Was born riding, love. Think I can handle her" he confidently proclaimed as he shot you a wink. " Come on, steady now" he patted her side as you followed behind them, eager to see him unceremoniously take a blow to his insufferable cockyness.

" What's her name?" He asked as he lifted himself up, adjusting the reigns in his hands to his liking.

" Nelly" you said as you leant back on the wooden fencing of the small paddock, taking the weight of your throbbing foot you had shoved into the soles of your tightly laced boots.

" Nelly, eh?" Tommy quietly mumbled clearing his throat, suddenly doubting his riding skills as he looked down at the jittery creature bouncing from hoof to hoof. " Steady, girl" he managed to control her erratic movements as he pulled back the reigns with a gentle pressure. " Don't show me up, Nell. I'll never hear the end of it" he quietly whispered to your horse with a pat to her neck as you watched on with amusement.

" See, we're doing alright. Aren't we Nelly?" Tommy called out to both you and your horse as he trotted along the muddied ground. " She just needs some firm guidance, is all" he said as he passed by your rolling eyes. " With a horse like..." Tommy continued his unsolicited advice when a freckled orange and black butterfly passed in front of him, causing Nelly to rear up in fear before throwing him off and bolting away.

" Shit" Tommy huffed at the sound of your approaching hysterics as he lay in the mud, his ego having been embarrassingly taken down a few notches off it's high pedestal.

" Am I in hell?" he opened one eye to see your smirking face looming over him with your hand out for him to take, when your smile turned to a scowl and you let him drop to the ground once again. " No, still alive" he grunted as he pulled his body and throbbing head back up, resting his arms on his bent knees as he watched your horse trot towards you. " Her name wouldn't happen to stand for nervous Nelly, would it?" Tommy looked up at you both as he watched you nuzzle your head against her neck, her thumping heart slowly settling with your tender touch.

" Nervous Nelly, notorious Nelly. Even nutty Nelly at one point. My girl has earned herself quite a collection of nicknames, haven't you, darling" you said as you cupped your hand under her muzzle, letting her lick the saltiness of your palms.

" Here" you said, putting your free hand out for him to take. " Are you hurt?" You asked as you both hobbled out of the paddock back to the stables. Both a sight of giggling fits for the staff of Arrow House looking from behind the twitching curtains of your shared home.

" No more than your toe is" he smiled down at you as you walked beside each other, free of any bellowing voices or snide remarks for the first time in almost a week, having both taken a dramatic blow to your obnoxious stubbornness.

" Mr Shelby" you turned to face him as you gave the reigns to your stable hand. " How much did my father owe you?" You took the opportunity to ask the question that had been nagging you in your brief truce before the battle of words recommenced.

" £17,000" Tommy exhaled as he looked at you from the corners of his eyes, a feeling of pity for you and the burden your father had selfishly lumbered you with stopping him from making any smart remark.

With a future of little prospects, other than that of a high-society marriage, every woman such as yourself was destined for. Tommy had come to the knowledge that your father had secured your life by marrying you off into wealth rather than leaving you with his fortune to pave your own way in life.

As your eyes widened and the learnt details of your fathers debt and how big of a whole he had dug in his wake. A guttural feeling of dread weighed down your stomach at the large sum of money your father owed, nearly exceeding that of Arrow Houses' value.

" I will pay you back, Mr Shelby" you said as you looked back to your home and it's surrounding land. Suddenly feeling you had nothing else to offer other than your word.

"Look, Y/N..."

" I will find a way, Mr Shelby" you made a pledge you knew would be near impossible to uphold if the deeds to your house had indeed, no standing.

With a small nod of his head, Tommy gazed down at you as a brief moment of peace captured him in the silent breeze of summer blowing a lock of hair drifting across your cheek, glittering with the welcome rays of the midday sun. A silence you both welcomed in the neutral grounds of no man's land until the sound of your brother hurtling down the drive, car horn blaring, deafened your ears.

" Sister! I won it! I bloody won it! " Your brother laughed maniacally, high on his win with a wad of cash in his hands, having spent the entire morning in the casinos with your fiance.

" God's sake" you felt the embarrassment of your brother's presence as your eyes darted to Tommy undoubtedly judging your renowned noble name, questioning how a family such of your selves came to inherit it as you watched him ignite a cigarette behind the orangery glow of the flame.

" Sweet pea" Cal's voice approached you as you shifted away, stumbling into Tommy as you did. " Sorry" you apologised, tucking a rebel hair behind your ear with your flustered fingers as he steadied your fall with a gentle hand to your back, a touch foreign to you with the heavy strikes you had become accustomed to from the opposite sex.

"Cal, Mr Thomas Shelby. Mr Shelby, Earl Cal Astor" you introduced the two men as you stood in the middle, looking between their glaring stares as you subtly shrugged of your fiances hand on your arm in the process.

"Pleasure" Cal greeted him with a belittling tone of superiority with his hand out as Tommy's hovered momentarily in the empty space between them before lifting it to take a smoke. Only a mere nod of his head in acknowledgment of his presence.

Murder, theft, prostitution, gambling. Tommy did not only live a life in the dark shadows your fiance and brother would visit for entertainment. He was the maker of it. The master puppet to the riches seedy side of life he and his men would adorn with gold-collumed bars, and live jazz music to have them fill his pockets. He had met a dozen men like your fiance. Each a replica of the other. Each of them in the privacy of their home with wives, lovers and maids accustomed to feeling the back of their hand when money didn't get them what they felt they were owed.

There were many things Tommy's wavering moral compass didn't stand for. And have no doubt, he had seen the bruises on your wrists, the tears unspent in your eyes you hid as you hurried away earlier that morning.

"Excuse me. I have a business call" your unexpected houseguest said as he threw his cigarette to the ground, inches from the perfectly kept shoes of your fiance.

" Shelby!" he called with a mocking chuckle, angered by the blow of disrespect he'd been shown. " Perhaps you would grace us with your presence at our engagement ball next week. Then you can find the time away from your pressing business matters for us to get to know the Small Heath gypsy boy living with my soon to be wife" he tauntingly finished with his nose up, lifting the heavy gold signet ring of his family's crest to your lower back you had already felt on numerous occasions, the sharp end of.

Coming to a stop at the steps of Arrow House, you watched the notorious gangster with his hands seated in his trouser pockets as his back stayed turned to you, whilst you silently prayed he would refuse the invitation and childish game of belittling any class below him you knew your fiance was set on making a spectacle out of in sheer spite. A game you were not willing to play.

" Next week it is, Mr Astor" Tommy's low rumbling voice replied, never ceasing the opportunity to further his endeavor as his strong statue disappeared into the darkened foyer and the door shut behind him.

A potential for business, or rather a show of power to the man that had insulted his heritage so freely with one single disdained word used to rile him up and have him show his business acquaintances the true colours of the leader to the notorious cut-throat gang he had kept from their lives until any encouraging reminder was needed. For they were no better than him. Criminals with the most unsavory of dealings. And you had better believe, Tommy had no qualms being the one to show these men their own true colours, and the reminder that they were no different to any small-time thief from Small Heath with only a title of nobility slapped on the end of their name seperating them. No qualms at all.

NEXT PART

Tag list: @weaponizedvirtue @un-interneted @mama-ivy @kmc1989 @leighla3

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@tiedyedghoulette

[novaursa]

A Lion's Folly (the fool)

- Summary: A story where a lion falls for the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Jaime Lannister

- Note: Keep in mind how canon events have been altered to suit the narrative of this story.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (blood, gore, violence)

- Previous part: absolution

- Next part: to mend

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @butterflygxril

Jaime woke to the scent of rot and the sharp sting of something cold against his arm. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and for a moment, he thought he was still dreaming. The blurred edges of reality came into focus slowly—a damp, dimly lit chamber, the air thick with the coppery tang of blood and the faint, acrid odor of burning herbs.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice drawled, soft and unhurried.

Jaime turned his head slightly, the motion sending a dull ache through his skull. His vision sharpened enough to make out a gaunt figure seated beside him. The man’s pale face was framed by thinning hair, his dark eyes gleaming with something that might have been curiosity—or amusement.

“Who…?” Jaime’s voice cracked, his throat dry and raw.

“Qyburn,” the man said smoothly, dipping a cloth into a bowl of murky water. “Former maester of the Citadel. Now… a man of many talents.”

Jaime tried to push himself upright, but a agonizing pain in his arm forced him back down. He glanced to the side and saw his stump, the bandages now clean and tightly wrapped. The sight sent a wave of nausea rolling through him, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay still.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Qyburn said, dabbing at Jaime’s forehead with the damp cloth. “You’ve been fevered for days. It’s a miracle you’re alive, truly.”

Jaime let out a bitter laugh, his voice rasping. “A miracle, is it? You’ll forgive me if I don’t feel particularly blessed.”

Qyburn’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “You’ve been through quite the ordeal. Fever dreams often bring… interesting revelations.”

Jaime frowned, his mind still sluggish. “What are you talking about?”

“You were whispering,” Qyburn said, his tone almost teasing. “Quite a lot, actually. Names, mostly.”

Jaime’s chest tightened, and he looked away, his jaw clenching. “Cersei,” he muttered. “It was her name, wasn’t it?”

Qyburn chuckled softly, the sound low and knowing. “Once or twice, yes. But mostly, it was another name. A Stark name.”

Jaime’s head snapped toward him, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. “What?”

“Oh, yes,” Qyburn said, his dark eyes gleaming. “You spoke of her often. Y/N Stark. Quite fondly, I might add. Almost as if…” He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Jaime’s throat tightened, his mind racing to recall anything he might have said. He cursed his fever-addled state, his vulnerability. “What do you want, Qyburn?” he snapped, his voice sharper now.

“Only to help,” Qyburn replied smoothly, though his amusement was clear. “Your secret is safe with me, Ser Jaime. For now, at least.”

Jaime glared at him, but the effort only made his head pound. He sank back against the rough cot, his breaths shallow as he tried to piece together his fractured thoughts.

“What about her?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now. “The Stark girl. And the wench.”

Qyburn’s smile faded slightly, his expression becoming more serious. “They’re safe for now. Lord Bolton seems to value them as much as he does you, though for different reasons.”

Jaime’s jaw tightened. “What does he want with Y/N?”

“Ah, that is the question, isn’t it?” Qyburn said, his tone almost cheerful. “He watches her closely, speaks little but observes everything. It seems he’s… intrigued by her. Perhaps he sees an opportunity. Or perhaps he simply enjoys the thought of holding a Stark under his roof.”

Jaime’s chest burned with anger, his mind conjuring images of Roose Bolton’s cold, calculating stare. “If he touches her—”

“You’re in no position to make threats, Ser Jaime,” Qyburn interrupted, his voice cutting but calm. “Your health is precarious, to say the least. And you’ll be of no use to anyone if you don’t recover.”

Jaime clenched his fist, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “What do you care about my recovery?”

“I’m a healer,” Qyburn said simply, though the glint in his eyes suggested there was far more to it. “And I find you fascinating. Besides, Lord Bolton has ordered you to be kept alive. For now.”

Jaime let out a shaky breath, his thoughts a tangled mess. The mention of your name, the faint memory of your voice cutting through his fevered dreams—it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t fully understand.

“I don’t need your pity, Qyburn,” he muttered, his voice low.

“Pity?” Qyburn replied with a faint chuckle. “No, Ser Jaime. What I offer is far more valuable than pity. I offer survival. Whether you choose to accept it is up to you.”

Jaime closed his eyes, the weight of his exhaustion pressing down on him like a stone. As Qyburn continued his ministrations, Jaime’s thoughts drifted back to you—to the defiance in your eyes, the sharp edge in your voice.

He didn’t know why you haunted him, why your presence lingered in his mind even now. But as sleep threatened to claim him once more, one thing became painfully clear: you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.

And that terrified him more than anything else.

The dining hall of Harrenhal was as cold and lifeless as the rest of the cursed castle. The long table, illuminated by flickering torches and a pair of sputtering candelabras, was laden with a sparse spread of bread, meat, and wine. Jaime stepped into the room, his steps faltering slightly as his fever-weakened body struggled to keep pace with the image of control he so desperately clung to.

The first thing he noticed was you.

You sat near the head of the table, your back straight, your expression as irked. The dress they’d forced you into—dark blue velvet with silver accents—was beautiful, but it was clear from the tension in your shoulders and the glare you aimed at Roose Bolton that you would rather be anywhere else. Your hair, usually windblown and wild from travel, was neatly arranged, though it did little to soften the fiery defiance in your eyes.

Brienne sat beside you, her broad shoulders hunched awkwardly in a plain dress that did her no favors. The indignation in her expression was clear, though she kept her mouth shut, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if to ground herself.

And then there was Roose.

The Lord of the Dreadfort sat at the head of the table, his pale face calm and unreadable, his eyes flicking to Jaime as he entered. He gestured to an empty seat across from you, his tone as smooth as ever. “Ser Jaime. Please, join us.”

Jaime forced a smirk, though his stomach churned. He moved to the indicated seat, lowering himself carefully into the chair and resting his good arm on the table. “Quite the gathering,” he said dryly, his gaze flicking between the three of you. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Roose poured himself a glass of wine, his movements deliberate. “Consider it a farewell, of sorts,” he said.

Jaime’s brow furrowed slightly. “Farewell?”

“Yes,” Roose replied, his tone calm and measured. “You’ll be leaving us soon. I’ve arranged for you to be escorted back to King’s Landing. Along with your… companion.” His eyes shifted briefly to Brienne, who stiffened in her seat.

Jaime raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening faintly. “How generous of you, my lord. I assume you’ll be sending me off with a full parade as well?”

Roose ignored the jab, his gaze steady. “I understand the value of a Lannister. Your safe return to your father will smooth tensions and ensure certain��� understandings remain intact.”

Jaime’s smirk faltered as his gaze flicked to you. “And what about her?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Roose’s lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile, though there was no warmth in it. “Lady Y/N will remain here. She’ll be returning to the North with me.”

Your glare intensified, but Roose didn’t seem to notice—or care.

“To the North?” Jaime repeated, his tone steady. “For what purpose?”

Roose took a sip of his wine, his pale eyes gleaming. “A purpose that benefits both of us. I am in need of a wife, and a Stark carries a name that commands respect.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling like a stone. Brienne’s knuckles whitened as her grip on the table tightened, her jaw clenching. You, however, leaned forward slightly, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

“You think I’d marry you?” you hissed, your eyes blazing. “After everything you’ve done?”

Roose met your gaze with unnerving calm. “You’ll find that defiance does little to change the inevitabilities of war, my lady. Your brother’s position weakens every day, and alliances must be forged to ensure survival.”

“I would rather die,” you snapped, your voice trembling with fury.

“Let us hope it doesn’t come to that,” Roose replied smoothly, his tone unbothered.

Jaime’s fingers curled into a fist beneath the table, his chest tightening as he watched the exchange. The thought of you trapped in Roose Bolton’s cold, calculating grasp sent a surge of anger through him that he hadn’t felt in years.

“This is madness,” Jaime said, his voice low but firm. “You’ll have a rebellion on your hands if you force this. Robb Stark will never allow it.”

Roose turned his gaze to Jaime, his smile faint but chilling. “The Young Wolf will have little say in the matter. He is far from here, and my reach grows longer every day.”

Jaime gritted his teeth, his mind racing. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Bolton. Even Tywin wouldn’t—”

“Your father understands the value of pragmatism,” Roose interrupted, his tone calm but cutting. “And so do I.”

The table fell silent once more, the animosity thick and suffocating. Jaime’s gaze flicked back to you, noting the way your hands trembled slightly as they rested in your lap. Despite your defiance, the weight of the situation was pressing down on you, and it was clear you were fighting to keep control.

Jaime felt a pang of something he couldn’t name—something that twisted in his chest as he looked at you.

He couldn’t let this happen. Not to you.

But for now, he forced himself to remain silent, his mind churning with the beginnings of a plan. He would find a way to stop this. He had to.

The faint clinking of cutlery against plates was the only sound, an overwhelming contrast to the unspoken storm swirling around the table. Jaime’s left hand trembled slightly as he reached for his goblet, the fever still gnawing at him and his arm aching from the crude bandages. The awkwardness of eating with one hand only deepened his discomfort, but he refused to show weakness.

You, seated across from him, noticed.

He saw the flicker of something in your eyes—hesitation, perhaps, or pity. He hated the thought of the latter but couldn’t look away as you finally set down your knife and leaned forward slightly.

“Here,” you said softly, your voice sharp but steady.

Before Jaime could protest, you reached across the table and steadied his goblet, guiding it to his lips. The act was mechanical, devoid of warmth, but it was help nonetheless. Jaime hesitated, his pride battling against the practicality of the moment. He allowed it, tilting his head slightly to drink, though his jaw tightened at the faintest hint of humiliation.

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, withdrawing your hand and returning to your meal.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jaime replied, his voice low but tinged with bitterness.

Roose Bolton, seated at the head of the table, observed the exchange with an unsettling calm. His pale eyes moved between the two of you, his expression unreadable, though the faint curl of his lips suggested amusement.

“You make an interesting pair,” Roose remarked, breaking the silence.

Jaime raised an eyebrow, his smirk faint but present. “A pair of what, my lord? Prisoners? Or pawns?”

Roose ignored the jab, his gaze settling on you. “Lady Stark,” he said smoothly, “you will remain here in Harrenhal tonight. Tomorrow, we will begin our journey north.”

Your fork clattered against your plate as you froze, your shoulders stiffening. Jaime’s own chest tightened at the words, and he set his goblet down with a deliberate motion.

“And what of me?” Jaime asked, his voice quieter now but no less biting.

“You will leave for King’s Landing,” Roose said calmly, sipping from his goblet. “As I mentioned, you and your companion will be escorted to your father. It is the… practical choice.”

Jaime leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze locked on Roose. “And I suppose you think Tywin will overlook the fact that your man sawed off my hand?”

Roose tilted his head, his smile faint. “Your father is a pragmatic man. He will be displeased, of course, but his displeasure will be tempered by the fact that you are alive.”

Jaime clenched his jaw, his mind racing as he fought to find the right angle. “If you want to keep Tywin placated, then send her with me,” he said, nodding toward you. “A Stark at his side will soften the blow of your… oversight.”

Your head snapped toward Jaime, your eyes narrowing. “I’m not a bargaining chip, Lannister.”

Jaime ignored you, his focus entirely on Roose. “Think about it,” he continued. “A gesture of goodwill to the Lannisters. A sign that you’re willing to smooth over any… misunderstandings.”

Roose leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. “An intriguing suggestion,” he said softly, his tone devoid of any real emotion. “But ultimately unnecessary.”

Jaime’s smirk faltered. “Unnecessary?”

“Yes,” Roose replied, his voice calm but cold. “I do not need Tywin Lannister’s forgiveness, nor do I seek his favor. My position is secure, and the Young Wolf has far more pressing concerns than the fate of his sister.”

Jaime’s frustration simmered beneath the surface, his fist clenching against the table. “You’re playing with fire, Bolton.”

Roose’s eyes flicked to Jaime’s stump, his smile faint but pointed. “Perhaps. But I’ve always been careful with my flint.”

The conversation ended abruptly, the weight of Roose’s words settling over the table like a heavy cloak. You stared down at your plate, your jaw tight, while Brienne shifted uncomfortably beside you, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Jaime leaned back in his chair, his chest tight with anger and frustration. He had played his hand, and Roose Bolton had dismissed it without a second thought.

As the meal dragged on, Jaime’s thoughts circled back to you—your defiance, your fire, and the way you had steadied his hand despite everything. He hated how much he admired it, how much he felt it.

And as the night deepened and the shadows grew long, Jaime knew one thing for certain: Roose Bolton might hold the upper hand now, but Jaime would find a way to tip the scales. For you. For himself. For survival.

The morning air was damp and heavy as Jaime stood in the shadow of Harrenhal’s crumbling walls, the weight of the castle’s ominous presence pressing down on him. The small party that would escort him and Brienne to King’s Landing was gathered nearby—half a dozen men, armed but disheveled, and Qyburn, who was busy fussing with supplies loaded onto a mule.

Jaime adjusted the sling supporting his maimed arm, the motion sending a sudden jolt of pain through his shoulder. His face remained impassive, though his mind churned with frustration. His gaze kept drifting back to the keep where he knew you were being held, your defiance the only thing keeping you from crumbling under Roose Bolton’s calculated cruelty.

He hated that he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head—the fire in your eyes, the strength in your voice. And now, the thought of leaving you behind with Bolton gnawed at him like a festering wound.

Brienne stood beside him, her expression a mixture of unease and determination. She had been quiet since the announcement of their departure, her eyes darting toward the keep as often as Jaime’s.

As Qyburn fussed over the mule, Jaime leaned closer to Brienne, his voice a low whisper. “We can’t leave her here.”

Brienne stiffened, her blue eyes narrowing as she turned to him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Jaime said, his tone sharper now. “The Stark girl. We can’t leave her with Bolton.”

Brienne’s jaw tightened, her gaze flicking to the keep again. “It’s not our decision to make,” she said, though there was a hint of hesitation in her voice.

“Since when do you care about decisions?” Jaime shot back, his voice low but biting. “You care about what’s right. And leaving her here isn’t right.”

Brienne’s lips pressed into a thin line, her fists clenching at her sides. “Even if I agree with you, how do you propose we take her with us? Roose Bolton isn’t exactly accommodating.”

Jaime smirked faintly, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

Brienne’s expression hardened. “You’re a fool.”

“Maybe,” Jaime admitted, his gaze drifting back to the keep. “But I’m also right.”

Brienne sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging slightly. “You’re asking for a miracle, Lannister.”

“I’m asking for a chance,” Jaime countered. “She doesn’t belong here. And if we leave her behind…” He trailed off, the weight of his words hanging heavily between them.

Brienne didn’t respond immediately, her gaze thoughtful as she watched the keep. Finally, she muttered, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Jaime nodded, relief mingling with the ever-present ache in his chest. “Good. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, Brienne, it’s that you’re not one to walk away from a fight.”

Brienne’s glare returned, though she said nothing, her focus shifting back to the task at hand.

As the small party prepared to depart, Jaime couldn’t help but glance toward the keep one last time, his thoughts consumed by you. He didn’t know how, but he would find a way to bring you with them. Because leaving you behind with Roose Bolton wasn’t an option—not for him.

Not anymore.

The chill of Harrenhal’s damp stone walls seeped into your bones as you sat by the narrow window of your chamber, staring out at the overcast sky. You had been restless all night, the thought of Roose Bolton’s quiet threats lingering in your mind. The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside, growing louder until the heavy wooden door creaked open.

Roose Bolton stepped inside, his pale face as unreadable as ever, his eyes gleaming with calm calculation. Behind him, a servant hovered nervously, carrying a folded dress draped over their arm.

“Lady Stark,” Roose said smoothly, his voice as cold and biting as a winter wind. “I trust you’ve rested well.”

You turned to face him, your expression hard. “I doubt anyone rests well in this place.”

His lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps the North will offer you more comfort. We leave in a few hours. I suggest you prepare yourself.”

You stiffened, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “You expect me to go willingly?”

Roose stepped further into the room, his movements unhurried. “Willingness is irrelevant,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm. “You are a Stark, and your presence in the North will serve a purpose. Whether you cooperate or not is of little consequence to me.”

The servant stepped forward, holding out the dress—a modest gown in muted greys and reds, clearly chosen to reflect Bolton’s house colors more than your own.

Your jaw clenched as you stared at it, your anger bubbling beneath the surface. “You think dressing me in your colors will make me your pawn?”

Roose tilted his head slightly, his expression as impassive as ever. “You misunderstand, my lady. This is not about control. It is about practicality. The North is harsh, and its people respect tradition. A Stark by my side will strengthen my position and ensure stability in uncertain times.”

Your glare intensified, your voice low and seething. “You’re using me to betray my brother. Do you honestly think I’ll help you?”

Roose’s gaze didn’t waver, his calm demeanor unshaken by your fury. “Help or hinder, it makes little difference. Your presence is all that is required. The rest will fall into place.”

You turned away, your hands gripping the edge of the window ledge as you tried to steady your breathing. The thought of being paraded through the North as some sort of prize, a tool in Bolton’s schemes, made your skin crawl.

“Is there anything else, my lord?” you asked coldly, refusing to meet his gaze.

Roose lingered for a moment before stepping closer, his voice dropping to a quieter tone. “I understand your anger, Lady Stark. But anger will not change the course of events. It would be wise to accept your new reality.”

You turned to face him then, your eyes blazing with defiance. “The North remembers,” you said through gritted teeth. “And so will I.”

Roose studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded to the servant, who placed the dress on the bed before retreating from the room.

“We leave in two hours,” Roose said, his tone returning to its usual calm. “Do not keep me waiting.”

With that, he turned and left, the door creaking shut behind him.

You stood in the silent room, your chest heaving with frustration and fear. The dress lay on the bed like a symbol of your captivity, its muted colors mocking you.

But as the minutes ticked by, your mind began to race, searching for any way to delay, to escape, to fight back. You wouldn’t go quietly. You couldn’t.

Not while there was still a chance—however slim—to turn the tide.

The sound of shouting and clanging steel echoed through the halls of Harrenhal, jolting you from your tense pacing. The din seemed to come from the courtyard, loud and chaotic, as if the very air was charged with impending violence. You rushed to the narrow window of your chamber, peering down at the scene below.

A skirmish had broken out. Men in mismatched armor clashed with swords and axes, their movements wild and desperate. At the center of the fray, you spotted Brienne, her towering frame unmistakable as she wielded her sword with brutal efficiency. Her strikes were measured, powerful, and unrelenting, forcing Roose’s guards into disarray.

Your heart raced, your mind struggling to make sense of the chaos. Then, amidst the tangle of bodies, you spotted Jaime. He was moving with purpose, slipping through the melee with a deftness that belied his injured state.

He’s coming for me, you realized, your breath catching.

The courtyard was a cacophony of shouts and clashing steel, the air thick with dust and blood. Jaime ducked under a wild swing from one of Roose’s guards, his good hand gripping the hilt of a borrowed sword. The weight of the weapon felt foreign, unbalanced, but he pushed forward, his focus clear.

Behind him, Brienne was a force of nature, her blade carving a path through their enemies. She had started the brawl without hesitation, her roar of defiance startling even the most hardened of Bolton’s men.

“Go!” she had shouted at Jaime, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Find her!”

Jaime hadn’t needed to be told twice. The plan was simple, reckless, and brilliant in its execution. Brienne would hold their attention, giving him the chance to reach you before Roose could react.

His chest heaved as he dodged another blow, his feet pounding against the uneven stones as he broke free from the skirmish. The keep loomed ahead, its shadowed entrance a beacon amidst the chaos.

She’s there. She has to be.

The door to your chamber burst open, two of Roose’s guards rushing inside with weapons drawn. “Stay where you are!” one of them barked, his voice rough and commanding.

Your heart raced as you backed toward the window, your mind working frantically. The shouts from the courtyard were growing louder, and the guards were clearly distracted.

Now or never.

Before they could react, you lunged for the small table near the bed, grabbing the heavy ceramic pitcher and hurling it at the nearest guard. The pitcher shattered against his helmet with a deafening crack, sending him stumbling backward.

The second guard cursed, moving toward you with his sword raised. You ducked under his swing, your hands finding the edge of the wooden chair nearby. With all your strength, you swung it at him, the impact sending him reeling.

The first guard recovered quickly, but before he could grab you, you bolted for the door. Your bare feet slapped against the cold stone as you sprinted down the corridor, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

The halls of Harrenhal were eerily quiet compared to the chaos outside. Jaime’s steps echoed off the stone walls as he moved deeper into the keep, his focus narrowing with every turn.

He heard the sound of running footsteps before he saw you.

You rounded the corner suddenly, your hair disheveled, your face flushed with effort. Your eyes locked onto his, widening in surprise before narrowing in determination.

“Lannister,” you breathed, your tone equal parts relief and suspicion.

“Stark,” he replied, his smirk faint despite the urgency of the moment. “Miss me?”

Before you could respond, shouts erupted from behind you. The guards were in pursuit, their heavy boots pounding against the stone.

Jaime’s smirk faded as he stepped forward, his sword raised. “Get behind me,” he said, his voice low but commanding.

For once, you didn’t argue.

The first guard rounded the corner, his blade glowing eerily in the torchlight. Jaime met him head-on, his good hand steady despite the weight of the sword. The clash of steel echoed through the hall as Jaime parried the guard’s strike, his movements calculated and precise.

“Go!” Jaime barked over his shoulder, his voice sharp. “Find Brienne and get to the courtyard!”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking between him and the approaching guards.

“Now!” Jaime snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You turned and ran, your bare feet slapping against the cold stone as you disappeared down the corridor. Jaime watched you go, a strange mix of relief and frustration tightening in his chest.

“Stay alive, Stark,” he muttered under his breath, turning back to the fight.

The guards pressed forward, but Jaime’s resolve didn’t waver. He would buy you the time you needed, no matter the cost.

The clash of steel and the shouts of men echoed louder as you navigated the winding corridors of Harrenhal. The stone walls, cold and oppressive, seemed to press in on you as you ran, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Every step carried you closer to the courtyard, where the sounds of battle raged—a cacophony of chaos and defiance.

You rounded a corner and nearly collided with Brienne. She was bloodied but unbroken, her blade clutched tightly in her hand, her blue eyes blazing with determination.

“Lady Stark!” she exclaimed, relief flickering across her face.

“Brienne!” you gasped, your chest heaving. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Brienne’s gaze darted to the corridor behind you, where the faint sound of boots echoed ominously. “Where’s Jaime?”

You hesitated, your jaw tightening as you pushed away the flicker of concern gnawing at you. “He’s buying us time. Roose can’t kill him. Not without facing Tywin’s wrath.”

Brienne frowned, her grip tightening on her sword. “And you trust him to hold them off?”

“I trust him to survive,” you replied sharply, though the admission left a bitter taste in your mouth. “But we can’t stay here. He told me to find you and get to the courtyard.”

Brienne nodded, her focus shifting. “Then we’ll need horses. Follow me.”

The courtyard was chaos. Bodies littered the uneven stones, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of blood and sweat. Roose’s men were scattered, their movements disorganized as they tried to contain the skirmish. Brienne led the way, her massive frame cutting through the crowd like a force of nature. You stayed close behind, your heart pounding as you scanned the chaos for any sign of Jaime—or the horses.

“There,” Brienne said, pointing toward the stables. A small group of horses stood tethered near the gate, their eyes wide with fear, their hooves stamping against the ground.

But between you and the horses were several of Roose’s men, their weapons drawn as they moved to intercept you.

“Lady Stark,” one of them barked, his voice strained but commanding. “Stop this madness and return to the keep!”

You glared at him, your fists clenching. “You think Roose will let you lay a hand on me?” you snapped, your voice cutting through the noise. “He needs me alive and untouched. Or do you want to explain to him why his prize is damaged?”

The man hesitated, his grip on his sword faltering as he glanced at his comrades. They exchanged uneasy looks, their resolve wavering.

Brienne took advantage of their hesitation, stepping forward with her sword raised. “If you won’t stand aside, I’ll carve a path through you,” she growled, her voice low and deadly.

The men flinched, their fear palpable. They weren’t cowards, but the weight of their orders—and the presence of a Stark—stayed their hands.

“Move,” you demanded, your tone icy.

They parted reluctantly, their faces grim as they allowed you to pass.

Brienne untethered two horses swiftly, her movements efficient despite the chaos surrounding you. She helped you mount the first one, her grip firm as she steadied the skittish animal.

“Ride hard and don’t stop,” she said, her voice urgent.

“What about you?” you asked, your eyes narrowing.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Brienne replied, swinging herself onto the second horse with practiced ease.

You hesitated for a heartbeat, your gaze flicking back toward the keep. The thought of leaving Jaime behind gnawed at you, much to your irritation. He could handle himself, you told yourself. Roose wouldn’t dare kill him—Tywin’s wrath would be too great.

But the image of him standing alone against Roose’s men, his smirk hiding the pain you knew he felt, refused to leave your mind.

“Lady Stark!” Brienne’s sharp voice jolted you back to reality. “Go!”

You dug your heels into the horse’s sides, and it bolted forward, its hooves pounding against the stone as you raced toward the open gate. Brienne followed close behind, her sword raised as she deflected a half-hearted attempt to stop her.

Shouts erupted as Roose’s men realized what was happening, but none dared fire an arrow or strike a blow. The fear of Roose’s wrath—and the consequences of harming you—stayed their hands.

As you passed through the gates and into the open fields beyond, a wave of relief washed over you. The wind whipped through your hair, the cold air biting at your skin, but you didn’t stop.

“Keep going!” Brienne shouted from behind you, her voice cutting through the roar of blood in your ears.

You urged the horse onward, your thoughts a whirlwind of anger, fear, and frustration. You couldn’t shake the image of Jaime from your mind, his half-smirk and sharp tongue hiding the torment beneath.

Damn him, you thought bitterly. Damn him for making me care.

But even as you cursed him, you couldn’t deny the flicker of hope that burned in your chest. He was still alive. He had to be.

And if you had anything to say about it, you wouldn’t let Roose Bolton have the last word.

Jaime stood in the center of the room, his posture deliberately casual despite the two guards gripping his arms tightly. His body ached from the scuffle in the courtyard, and the dull throb of his maimed arm reminded him of just how precarious his situation was.

Roose Bolton sat behind a plain wooden table, his pale, cold eyes fixed on Jaime with an intensity that could freeze blood. The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive, as Roose tapped a single finger against the tabletop.

Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but laced with venom. “Do you know what you’ve done, Kingslayer?”

Jaime smirked faintly, though it lacked his usual bravado. “I’d like to think I’ve done a great many things, my lord. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Roose’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze narrowing. “The Stark girl,” he said quietly, the words carrying more weight than the volume suggested. “She’s gone. Escaped. Along with your… friend, the wench.”

Jaime feigned a look of surprise, his smirk deepening. “Really? Well, good for them. I hear the Riverlands are lovely this time of year.”

The guards tightened their grip on him, but Jaime didn’t flinch.

“Don’t play games with me,” Roose snapped, his calm demeanor cracking for the first time. “You knew. You helped them, didn’t you?”

Jaime tilted his head, his smirk fading into something colder. “What if I did?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “Would you flay me here and now? Because I’d do it again, Bolton. A hundred times over.”

The room fell deathly silent. Roose leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable—anger, perhaps, or calculation.

“You’re pathetic,” Roose said finally, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’ve risked everything for what? A Stark girl who despises you? A knight who would sooner gut you than thank you? Do you think this makes you noble? Redeemed?”

Jaime met his gaze evenly, his jaw tightening. “I think,” he said slowly, “that it makes me something more than you’ll ever be.”

The room grew colder as Roose’s expression hardened. He rose slowly from his chair, his movements deliberate as he stepped closer to Jaime.

“You’ve cost me dearly,” Roose said, his voice quieter now but no less dangerous. “The Stark girl was to be my bride. Her name would have solidified my hold in the North, ensured stability in a time of chaos. And now, thanks to you, that is no longer possible.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Tragic,” he said dryly.

Roose’s hand twitched, his fingers curling briefly into a fist before he stepped back. “I should flay you alive,” he said coldly. “Peel your skin from your flesh and hang you from the gates of Harrenhal as a warning to any fool who dares cross me.”

The guards stiffened, their grips tightening on Jaime’s arms.

“But,” Roose continued, his voice regaining its unsettling calm, “you’re worth more to me alive than dead. For now.”

He turned abruptly, gesturing to the guards. “Escort him to the capital at once,” he ordered, his tone brisk. “I want him out of my sight before I change my mind.”

As the guards moved to drag Jaime toward the door, Roose called out one final time. “And deliver a message to your father.”

Jaime stopped, glancing over his shoulder with a raised brow. “A message?”

Roose’s eyes gleamed with cold amusement. “Tell him that our deal regarding the Twins is off. The loss of my bride—your doing—means I owe him nothing.”

Jaime’s stomach sank, though he kept his face impassive. The significance of Roose’s words was not lost on him. Tywin had brokered a delicate alliance with House Frey, and Roose had been a critical part of that arrangement. If Roose withdrew his support, it could unravel everything.

“Anything else?” Jaime asked, his smirk returning faintly despite the tension in the room.

Roose’s lips twitched into the barest hint of a smile. “Only that I hope you enjoy what’s left of your journey, Kingslayer. I suspect it will be… enlightening.”

The guards hauled Jaime away, their boots echoing against the stone as they dragged him through the corridor. Despite the looming consequences of Roose’s words, Jaime felt a faint flicker of satisfaction.

He had done what he set out to do.

You were free.

And Jaime Lannister felt as though he had won.

[fear-is-truth]

what do you think each of the evan’s wear to bed?

(i was trying to imagine what JPM would wear to bed and was stumped lmao)

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans… sleepwear .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james patrick march‧ kai anderson ‧ rory monahan ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel

a/n: ty for the req !! so fun to write tbh

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate’s sleepwear is very 90s boy-next-door. half the time, he’s in those vintage-looking striped tees—horizontal stripes in muted colors, the kind that might seem kinda baby-ish now but somehow work on him. baby boy. the rest of the time, it’s a band tee, nirvana or the smashing pumpkins. for bottoms, he’ll either grab his track & field shorts (you know, the short ones that look kinda fruity) or a pair of boxers. if it’s hot, he’ll ditch the shirt completely. on colder days, he’s in one of those sweaters paired with green checkered pyjama pants.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit’s all about practicality. hot weather? briefs. nothing else. he’s not into anything restrictive or fancy when he’s sleeping. when it’s colder, he might throw on some soft flannel pajama pants and a white undershirt, but only if it’s freezing.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

kyle’s sleepwear usually includes an old college club tee—something from a campus event or charity run—or a nerdy sci-fi shirt with marvel, star wars, or star trek designs. for bottoms, it’s always something cozy, like well-worn sweatpants or flannel pyjama bottoms, usually in neutral or plaid patterns. his clothes always smell nice because he’s that guy who uses fabric softener religiously and actually knows how to do laundry properly.

⟢ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.

wife-beater and boxers, no questions asked. he’s the type to sleep in just his boxers most of the year because he doesn’t see the point in layering up unless it’s absolutely freezing. when the weather does turn colder, he’ll trade the tank for a plain button-down.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

james wouldn’t dare wear anything less than a matching set of black silk pajamas, tailored to fit him perfectly. the initials “J.P.M.” are embroidered in silver thread on the pocket because, of course, he’s that extra. to complete the look, he has a matching silk robe—also black, with a silver trim. probably has a nightcap too.

⟢ 𝐑𝐎��𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐍.

“actor off-duty” typa fit. his go-to is a plain, perfectly-fitted t-shirt (you’d think it’s basic, but it’s actually some high-end brand like james perse) paired with plain sweatpants. if it’s getting chilly, he’d swap the tee for a well-worn hoodie, but even that’s designer, probably with a well-hidden logo no one notices unless they know fashion. cashmere socks because his feet get cold in winter. rory’s all about comfort, but it’s the kind of comfort only a celeb with a fat paycheck can pull off.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would 100% sleep shirtless, wearing those loose, low-slung grey sweatpants that sit dangerously low on his hips, showing off that delicious v-line because. he a whore. when it’s cold, though, he’s layering up with a sweater or plain hoodie—the kind a tech bro would wear without a second thought. or black thermal shirt paired with fleece joggers.

⟢ 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒.

austin’s sleepwear is all about luxury. he’d wear a high-end silk robe, probably from something like tom ford or balenciaga, in sleek b & w pinstripes or a classy paisley print. It’s the kind of robe that looks expensive without being flashy—tasteful, refined, and just a little bit sexy. he’d leave it slightly open at the chest, showing off just a sliver of his pale skin (scandalous! what a slut!). he’s also got matching slippers, and an eye mask for when he needs to block out sunlight.

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.

he’s got a collection of band tees that double as sleepwear, (pink floyd or rush). then, of course, there are those absurdly dorky graphic tees that are so bad they’re good—like the “nacho average guy” with a cartoon taco or a random graphic of a turtle. peter’s pyjama bottoms are often cartoony and childish. think patterns like cartoon superheroes, or those old-school looney tunes characters. they’re soft and comfy, of course.

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

simple and comfy. he’d throw on a plain cotton shirt and wear boxers. when it’s warmer, he’s in boxers, but when the temperature drops, he’s switching to a long-sleeve thermal shirt to stay warm. his pajama bottoms are a staple—those brown, white, and black checkered plaid ones, they’re slightly worn in from frequent use, but he looooves that soft, lived-in feeling.

[dokries]

venus

pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: ~1.1k

warnings: weird period era speech at one point, calling each other idiots lovingly, a few kisses

author note: okay so apparently i needed to write compensation after goldleaf so this is the fluff to make up for that 😭 special thanks to regina song for releasing the fangirl album cause this fic would not exist without it! lots of love 💗

masterlist

you come back with a water bottle to see your boyfriend staring at the abstract piece he stood by when he said he’d wait for you earlier. 

“figured out the secret, shua?” you sneak up from behind him, causing him to jump a little before he smiles when he realizes it’s you. joshua wraps a hand around your waist to pull you closer. 

you had been looking at this specific painting for a whole, trying to make sense of its contrasting strokes of blue and orange as best as the both of you could—after all, two minds are better than one, right? …yeah, no, not in your case, considering you were still stumped.

joshua turns back to the painting, and you take his sheepish grin as a no. a few moments later, he pokes your shoulder with wide eyes. “i think i figured it out!”

you raise an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue. he leans in and whispers into your ear, “i think it means i’m in love with you.”

you look at him from the corner of your eye, and can’t help but giggle at his silly remark, even if you’re already used to the cheesy lines your boyfriend says all the time. 

“is that because you’re the blue strokes in this piece, and i’m the orange that compliments you? hey, wouldn’t that be seungkwan…?” you trail off, suddenly remembering the boy from jeju you’re both friends with. 

your boyfriend shakes his head fiercely. “you first, always.” joshua brings your hand up to his lips, softly kissing the side of it with a wink—your cheeks turn into a red he loves more than any painting, and his laugh echoes throughout the exhibit. 

“you’re cute,” is all he says before taking a look at his fancy watch—you two had dressed up to seem more intellectual than you actually are—to check the time and he winces. “oh, we should leave, the museum closes pretty soon.” 

you nod before waving goodbye to the curator nearby, and walk outside to the hallway, joshua’s hand still interlocked with yours. his friends like to tease him for how they’ve never seen him not holding onto you, whether it’s your hand or arm—he could be very clingy at times if he wanted to annoy you (which he did more often than not).

however, you have no idea where you’re going once you turn into an unfamiliar hallway, lined with doors that lead to ballrooms, judging by their signs. you look back at joshua nervously but he only smiles. “oh darling, don’t worry. i’m sure there’s a map or something in case of an emergency here somewhere, right?” 

you split up to look for any indication of how to get back to the parking lot you came from, roaming up and down the hall after you call joshua a genius—he corrects you, saying he’s your genius only. a few minutes pass as you search along the walls before you hear your boyfriend calling your name. “over here!”

you follow his voice until you get to a partially open door, one that leads to an empty ballroom. this must’ve been used for an event earlier, considering that there’s still tables set up around the main section of the floor for dancing; the person in charge of cleaning it all up is probably on their break. 

you walk over to joshua, who’s standing in the middle of the open space, before whistling lowly. “wow, some fancy stuff must’ve happened here.”

joshua’s eyes sparkle like the huge light gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the numerous candles on it still lit up from the extravagant night, as he grabs your hand with his own, and twirls you around a couple of times before stopping with a giggle. “let’s dance!” 

so you do. though you have no music to listen along to, you make due with the sounds of your shoes hitting the ground, and joshua’s light humming of his favourite song at the moment. you spin and twirl, and you now wonder if your boyfriend’s had training in the waltz or something because of how well he’s leading you through the ballroom as you travel along the edges of the tables, the white cloths a whisper on your legs as they move away. 

you don’t know how long it takes for joshua to stop, his hair and clothes slightly untidy, and you suppose yours are as well. he bows, your hand still in his, mocking the period dramas you’ve watched with him. “my wondrous partner, i thank thee for this magnificent dance.” 

you giggle, bowing back to play along with his act, and speak softly. “why, my dear sir, i believe i must thank you instead! if it was not thee who led this dance, i would have been dancing as if my legs had been attacked by a donkey!” 

joshua looks at you in shock before laughing, falling into you as he does so. “what do you mean, a donkey?”

you shrug, wrapping your arms around him in a loose hug, which he returns. “hey, i don’t know! you’re the one who started the weird roleplay, not me.” 

he pulls back and grins at you before grabbing your cheeks gently to kiss you all over the face despite your protests. he stops when you chuckle, hands now pressing your cheeks together so you look like a little chipmunk. “oh, i love you so much, don’t i?”

you puff out your chest and roll your eyes. “well of course you do! i’m quite lovable, am i not?”

joshua smiles softly before placing a sweet kiss on your temple—thankfully, only one this time—murmuring, “yes, you really are.”

when your eyes soften as he pulls back, he smiles mischievously and adds on, “my little lovable idiot, that’s for sure.” 

you groan loudly. joshua really can’t go ten seconds without insulting you lovingly, can he? but you smile nonetheless, and pinch his cheeks as punishment, earning you whines of pain before you let go. “and you’re my lovable idiot, okay? no one else gets to call you that, not even jeonghan.”

your boyfriend chuckles at the mention of his best friend’s name, holding his pinky out. “i promise i won’t even let jeonghan call me that.”

you grin before intertwining your pinky with his, before placing a peck on his cheek. “good.”

[savnofilter]

Your Scent Is Sweeter | e. kirishima

       Werewolf!Eijiro Kirishima x Virgin![FEM]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, one shot, loss of virginity, kirishima likes how you smell, dry humping, hints of jealousy, spit (1), knot inflation, pull out method, mutual pining, friends -> lovers (?), established friendship.

COUNT: 3.4k words [13 mins.]

READ MORE: masterlist + [student masterlist]

A/N: ehhh i dont think i'll ever do this like an animal horny hybrid shit after the last few fics i have queued up. 😭 even if i do i'll def cringe it later probably anyways- ignore my hating… also this is a continuation from a draft over a year ago?? including the next two bakugo fics im going to post and the other dragon!kirishima fic so bare with me. this isnt even that bad LOL. thank you, anon!

How you and Kirishima first met was simple:

Two different hands reached out for the last skewer that sat on the hot grill, both stopping in hesitation at the presence of someone else. You both stopped and looked at each other, an awkward laugh coming from you as an equally shy smile graced his lips. 

“Lady’s first!” He grinned at you, his sharp teeth showing as he blushed softly, stepping back. “Go ahead, I’ll just swing back later.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, feeling butterflies in your chest as the cute male allowed you to grab it. 

As much as you wanted to say something else, your brain short-circuited on coming up with anything. Part of you wanted to tease him and say he could take it, but you never pass up on an opportunity for food. Nevertheless, even if it was for a random cute guy. Plus you had spent the last few hours dancing and working up a sweat, you were sure you needed it more than him. As he stood to the side, you were able to pay and take your leave, waving to him as you disappeared into the crowd. One last glance was exchanged with him as you left him at the stand.

Typically, you wouldn't go to many events if it weren't for the festivals or known shows; but this one faithful New Year's festival when you were fresh into adulthood had proven you made the great decision to attend the celebration. Events between humans and werewolves were often rampant during popular holidays, the New Year being one of them. 

There were many people around with many great food booths to compare. It was only a mere coincidence that you two seemed to be craving the same savory treat, kabobs.

After the first time you two had met, you started bumping into him more at cultural events. You hadn’t told anyone that you had met with this boy. At least you were sure he was around your age, young twenties or so, but there was no mistaking he had a few on you though not too much. The more you saw him at these gatherings, the connection between you two grew naturally, and it soon evolved into a friendship. No one knew about this friendship and to your friends he was merely regarded as something akin to a hallway crush. What they didn't know was that you two had been seeing each other for about two years now, doing various things together as a private friendship. It was no surprise the once innocent feelings you had for him slowly turned into a crush each time you two met. Luckily enough for you, today was one of the days when you two could catch up and you were more than ready to see him again. 

You bit your lip as you sat on the cut-down tree stump, one of the many things that made him complain. Something about humans defiling the woods by making modifications that didn’t need to be made. Oftentimes when you met him, he ranted about different things, all things to be exact. Even with his rambling nature, he had other sides to him. You saw him chill, you saw him happy, you’ve seen him angry and you’ve seen him annoyed. But the ‘mood’ he approached you with today was something different. It was… feral. In a way, you couldn’t explain it.

“E-Evening, Kirishima.” You smile up at him as he walks up to you, holding up the basket you brought for him. “I made your favorite, they’re still hot just how you like them!” You open the basket to show him the goodies, scooching over on the big seat to give him room to sit down. He was quiet today, stiff too. You tried not to show your concern as he picked up the bag and sniffed it. It was times like these when you could pay close attention to the way his face looked, admiring the roundness of his cheeks that complimented his sharp jaw. 

Kirishima only grunts as he sits away from you, his quiet and fidgety demeanor worrying you a bit. Your eyes observed his statue that had a light sheen of sweat layering his tanned skin that was visible to the eyes, his brows scrunched angrily. His facial expression was one of heavy frustration even with how much he tried to hide it. Whatever he was trying to find using his snout appeared to not have been found, and he was once again on the hunt to find the source.

Kirishima proceeds to start sniffing again, this time pulling away to smell somewhere else. You couldn’t help but stare as his behavior was odd, flinching a bit when his nose led to sniffing around you. You tried to stay calm as he got closer, shifting awkwardly as you contemplated the right moment to ask about his demeanor. His breathing seemed a bit ragged too, his chest rising and falling as he avoided contact with you, even visually. 

“You’re… in heat.” 

If he couldn’t see the blush on your face you could certainly feel it.

“....what?"

“I can smell it, you’re aroused...” Eijiro responds simply. "And you smell really good."

He was still standing as he towered over you. He rested the basket next to you and didn’t move, his eyes dark with a glint you haven’t seen before. His hand comes up cup your jaw, his palm hot against your skin. You play with your sleeves as you grow flustered, laughing nervously as the thought of being in a lewd situation with the black-haired male starts to run through your head.

“Eijiro…” You start, looking up at him as he makes you look up at him by tilting your head up. You felt as though you were caught stealing from a cookie jar, hands covered in crumbs as you tried to hide the emotions stirring inside you that he could very obviously sense. 

His lips spare you the process of trying to come up with something to say as he presses his mouth against yours. You felt something spark as he did, your hands that were once clenched at your chest held his shoulders, stabilizing yourself when he forces you to lay down on the large tree stump you sat on. You tried to keep up with his kisses, opening up your mouth to let him in, fearing the pain of accidentally poking something if you chose to let your tongue wander in his. You moaned as his tongue poked and prodded in your hot cavern, his hands moving to grip your thighs to spread them apart as he got between them.

You hadn't noticed how big his body was, being so exposed to it so many times in such a friendly setting compared to this one. You daydreamed about this moment but never did you think it would happen so soon. Your heart hammers in your chest upon feeling his lips move so softly against yours, caring even. You could tell that he was the skilled one between you two and his kind way of gentleness showed with his fervent kisses. Unfortunately for him though, you didn't nearly have as much lung capacity as him to continue this unbroken kiss. 

One of your hands on his shoulders taps him as an indicator for a breather, the doting male taking the message. Your labored breaths mix with his as your eyes can't help but be glued to his in desperation. A timid mewl is ripped from your lips when his hands that once respectfully rested on the sides of your hips swoop down to grip the back of your thighs and reach behind you to squeeze your bum. Kirishima growls as the scent of your arousal heightens, his gaze darkening as he prepares himself to fuck you. 

"I-I didn't want to pounce on you like this but you smell so good." Kirishima rambles as his hands start to grope at your clothed skin. You couldn't do anything but just lay there and take it, watching up at him with curious eyes.

His strong and calloused hands trail up your body to grope your chest through your clothes, the heavy weight of his hands bringing a rush of excitement straight to your core. Whilst he fondles you he successfully manages to slide closer to you between your legs, your thighs resting on his as he gets comfortable. You bite your lip feeling his hard length now pressing against your core, a taunting sensation between the layers of clothes that restricts you. While your hands never left his shoulders his hands happily roamed your body. 

From when he was fondling you, he was able to unbutton some of your blouse, the top of your cleavage now exposed to him, and the beautiful light of the moon from atop the sky. You feel tightening in your chest as oxygen starts to run out from kissing for so long, your hands lightly pushing him away. He pulls away with a light growl that marks his excitement. Kirishima hadn't slept with humans often but had to remind himself that he had to be gentle…. at first. 

"Do you want this, Y/N?" Eijiro holds your chin to have you look up at him. You lightly gulp in excitement at the feeling of his rough hands on your jawline, a more than ready nod coming from you. 

"I want to, Eiji." You're not even sure how you managed to maintain eye contact after relaying that. Until now, you had only kissed other people but other than that it never went further. There wasn't much left to ponder about his experience in these activities, though. "Just be gentle, this is my first time, okay?"

He visibly portrays his shock at the revelation with a dropped jaw but quickly recovers by nodding his head in understanding. If anything, this is one of the best news he's heard in a while. Now it wasn't often that Kirishima thought about your sex life. When he did think about you having sex, other partners were never in the equation. Just purely you and him. Though on his part he was assuming your experience—it was just Ludacris to him that no one has gotten that far with you yet considering he could tell the way most of the males around you acted. 

Those festivals where he'd watch you from afar and get a jealous flutter in his chest fell testament to this, later his anger fueling into pure neediness in the comfort of his bedroom. He'd be straight-up lying if he said he wasn't crushing on you hard. You were as sweet as ever, pretty with a physique that suited you nicely, a smile that he fell in love with on the first day, and god you always smelled so good. Even in times when he'd playfully chase you down and you'd try and push him away in embarrassment of odor, it was that exact husk that drew him in closer. The pull that made him want to pin you down and fuck you raw.

Kirishima grips your hand and kisses the back of it as he stares deeply into your eyes. "Of course, anything for you."

You softly sucked in a breath feeling his hot hand slip down to palm your sex, the sensation so very foreign to you. Undoubtedly he could certainly sense the wetness through your clothes, another animalistic growl coming from him. He palms you in preparation for his eventual fucking, skilled hands rubbing at your labia and then playing with your clit. Your body jolts at the pleasure you receive from that certain area, a pained whimper in desperation slipping from your lips as you clawed at him. 

His deft fingers easily rubbed against your clothed core, determined to get you hot and ready for him. His eyes watch down in a predatory gaze as he watches your expressions for any behavior change, his pupils dilating in hunger as he watches your body open more and more for him. Once he's done pawing at you he presses his crouch right against yours, the heat and weight of his confined cock stirring a whimper from within you. You tilt your head back, hands still stuck on him as you pull him closer to your body instinctively. Kirishima wordlessly leans in to press more animalistic kisses to your neck, now utilizing his sharp teeth to nip and bite at your skin. He groans against your sweet skin as you start to grind against him as well, a revelation now settling in that you were impossibly sensitive in all areas of your neck. 

Usually by now, Kirishima would've fucked whoever was underneath him into oblivion already, but he was purposely taking it slower. He needed to tease and punish you for not being his any sooner. To make him wait so long to get between your luscious and squeezable thighs. 

"Eijiro," A louder moan encourages him when he roughly nips at the conjuncture of where your neck and collarbone meet, the sensation sending a hot shiver down your spine. Mixed with the friction of his heavy hips against yours you're shaking under him, eyes prickling with tears as an unfamiliar feeling starts to wash over you. "W-Wait—!" You try to tap his shoulder, the act has him unmoving as he himself already knew what you were experiencing. 

Kirishima leans up to witness the pleasurable experience wash over you, greedily taking in the fact it was him to accomplish it without even having to do anything. In seconds he's gripping your jaw and having you look at him as he places another searing kiss against your lips. You're sloppily meeting him halfway there with no doubt that his tongue has all the right to overpower yours. Your hands are lost in his hair whilst his are impatiently ripping off your clothes ready to take you under the moonlight. 

A line of saliva connects you two when he pulls away, the small connection popping when he licks his lips. Your mouth and skin tasted so sweet, that he'd have to remind himself to eat you out next time, preferably somewhere more romantic and private.

The male on top of you grunts as the cool air of the night hits his now exposed schlong, the naked member twitching at the sensation. It was a reminder that he needed it in somewhere warm and his solution was right in front of him. He groans once the scent of your fresh arousal hits his nose, it now being stronger than ever with your hot cunny in line of sight for him. You were a sight to behold, truly. Skin littered with his bite marks, a light sheen of sweat coating your skin and your pussy dripping in need for him. 

"Do you want it?" Kirishima asks with a growl in his voice. You had just come down from an orgasm and he didn't want to rush you.

"Give it to me, Eiji." 

He doesn't have the balls to play with you anymore and gets straight to it. He presses his bulbous head against your opening, rubbing it up and down your pussy lips as he tries to loosen you up. "Relax."

You bite your bottom lip and try to do as told, eyes glued to his raging hard cock. You hadn't seen a cock before now but you were a hundred percent sure this was the prettiest you have and will ever see. You shiver when he pokes his tip at your clit, the sensitivity from before making you squirm. Your eyes flicker up as you watch him spit on his cock for more lubrication, mixing the substance with your arousal and his precum to make it easier for you to take. 

"I'm going in--fuck." Kirishima breathes out as he inserts his dick into your gummy walls, the squeezing around him has him reeling in pleasure. With no remorse, he grips the back of your thighs and presses them against your body in a mating press, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as your cunt swallows his cock in this position. He tilts his head back as he slowly and surely rocks the rest of his length into your awaiting cunt, the ecstasy he was experiencing had never been felt before. It was almost reminiscent of the first time he had lost his virginity except this felt exponentially better. 

His hands nearly rip your shirt open to show your breasts to him, the restriction of your clothes around your breasts making them perk up for him. He licks his lips as your nipples harden even more at the attention. Your tits bounce with each thrust as he slowly tries to ease himself in, his excitement making it hard for him to stay patient. 

Your breathy moans are the only thing he can hear and focus on, totally zoning out on anything around him. Everything about you felt too good. The way you wrapped around his cock, how your hands gripped at him, the desperation in your voice, and the way that you felt under his hands was intoxicating. Kirishima had been waiting for this for so long and he could finally have it, have you. With patience, he was able to start rocking his hips faster and deeper into your cunt. The lewd noise of your pussy squelching with every thrust encouraged him to do more, to fuck you more passionately. 

His lips were busy marking up your skin not caring about the complaining you might have for later. Earlier when he was eagerly trying to take off your clothes he tried his best not to rip your clothes off but there was no guarantee his (kind) gesture came to fruition. That minuscule dilemma will be something to deal with when you both get there. 

His hand dips down to mindlessly play with your sensitive bean, humming in satisfaction when it elicits a sharper moan from you. You're grinding your hips against his with vigor, body shameless in the pleasure it receives from him. Your eyes could barely focus on anything specific as the male you once considered a friend completely obliterates your cunt. Tears prickle at your eyes as you start to feel an intense sensation that washed over your body not too long ago.

"E-Eiji," You pant out, head lifting lightly from the wood. 

Kirishima's head immediately lifts from your skin and looks up at you, you two millimeters apart from each other's faces. "You close, babe?" 

You nod frantically and wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in closer. He groans at how well you're able to take him, the new position allowing you to take in his cock fully. He softly coos as you try to stick it out, a pained but pleasured expression adorning your features. 

"Cum on my cock, baby."

The buzzing in your system doesn't die down, everywhere in your body feels as though it's on fire. You're engulfed in everything he gives you and refuse to let this moment go. Your body is raging with white-hot arousal as you come undone with the help of a few thrusts and his fondling. You groan happily as he grips your thighs and presses them against your body again, an unfamiliar swelling at the base of his cock forming at the base of his cock and slamming against your pussy with each thrust. You peek down to see the inflation, a bit of worry rushing into your system. 

Kirishima cusses as he lets go of one of your legs and pulls out, his spunk immediately spilling onto your pubic area and pussy, successfully covering you in his load. You whimper at how much there is, some getting on your clothes and the already defiled tree trunk from the spillage. You felt yucky with all the sweat and fluids and felt like it was prime time to go to sleep. 

You shyly make eye contact with him and let out a nervous giggle, happily welcoming an approaching kiss as he leans in to take your lips against his. You two gradually come down from your high, your body now slumped against the flat surface of the massive cut-down tree. 

You two will figure out what you are later. 

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[bonefall]

I love the new retool of Stormpaw's Demon because it so neatly slots into what happens later on. Of COURSE Hailstar made Crookedjaw deputy. Even ignoring the fact of Crookedjaw being a great warrior, he's got the ghosts of Volestar and Darkstar by extension breathing down his neck. Of COURSE Mapleshade gets Silverstream later on. After the way Rainflower treated him, Crookedjaw would want to break the cycle of abuse any way he could. Going through his daughter is the best way to punish him. I could sit down and think about it for a few minutes and come up with ways that the consequences of all this echo through Riverclan to this very day. (They still seem to not be super great at believing young cats standing up to abuse, if the whole Frostpaw debacle is any indication)

ASC is ALMOST done we're ALMOST there, the idiot plot's life ENDS on November 5th. I'm holding a VERY large mallet and waiting patiently

I've always seen RiverClan as the Clan that does the most gossip. ThunderClan might be famous for their group-wide arguments, but that's just because the people aren't aware of the absolute psychological warfare that's going on in every RiverClan meeting. Mousefur's Bigotry Ballyhoo has absolutely NOTHING on the Long Island Housewives Tier bullshit that can kill a grandma on the stump where she stands.

So when it comes to how I handle RiverClan's political drama, I approach it with a vibe that their culture is very "cliquey." I won't be completely removing the way that a lot of RiverClan took Splashstar's side, but I will be dividing the social groups into actual alliances. Not EVERYONE in RiverClan turned on Frostpaw.

Just like how here, in Stormpaw's Demon, not all of the Clan felt any one way.

There's cats who are more inclined to take Rainflower's side. There's a growing clique of cats who made a stand with Shellheart. Because Rainflower was the deputy, which comes with a lot of social capital, many warriors don't quite know how to feel because they don't want to update their mental image of a cat they greatly respected.

You might say that compared to ThunderClan, RiverClan is more individualist. When the tide turns on an idea in ThunderClan, cats are a lot more likely to "get on board" with popular opinion without examining it. Especially if they're shocked by something (like Tigerclaw's reveal), they can shift pretty quickly if they're rallied by a cat with enough passion, like Firestar and Goldenflower managed to do. That's not the case in RiverClan, if they're surprised by something, they'll gather into their clique and talk about it.

BB!Splashstar, for as much as an edgelord as he is, has an idea of how this works. He's no master manipulator, just clever.

Anyway. Glad to see it's noticed that everything's connected in BB. I ALWAYS try to make sure that history and culture trickles down to the current events!

[lavender-jukebox]

How about parental decepticon stuff? I like the episodes where Tarantulas and Starscream end up as mentor figures

I love this idea...I hope I did it right-

Characters are Starscream, Soundwave, Tarantulas, Shockwave, Breakdown

(Reader is human btw-)

Enjoy!

Starscream

Will gladly answer any questions you have about himself or about the history of Cybertron

He's protective of you weither you're bot or human.

he'll take you for flights in his cockpit when you've had a bad day and let's you vent whatever you need to.

He tries his best to be a role model for you but thinks because he was a decepticon he isn't good at it

You two have deep talks about the past and listen to eachother

Seems like he doesn't care for platonic cuddles but actually loves them

Likes to praise you for things you've done

Gives headpats

If you ever do anything that could involve you getting hurt, get ready for a stern lecture and a shit tone of scolds when you explain your reasoning

He just wants you to be safe and happy :)

Soundwave

Probably the most parental decepticon out of them all

NEVER let's you out of his sight and insists you either stay beside him or sit on his shoulder

Gets a little worried if you and Frenzy ever rough house (cause you is a fleshie)

If you wanted, he would teach you how to hack

Has unlimited patience and you test this. All the damn time.

He always knows when's somethings up, but won't force you to tell him if you don't want to

If you want any affection he'll give it to you

VERY PROTECTIVE and will kick someone's ass if they lay a atom on you

He can be stern in more serious situations but doesn't intend to make you upset

If you're ever hurt he goes into mom mode and patches your injuries no matter what size

Likes it when you sit on his shoulder and blabber nonsense. He's all ears to hear what you have to say, no matter how stupid it seems

Tarantulas

Questions himself how he "adopted" a human but goes with it

Always keeps you within a distance where he can pluck you up if he senses danger

If you're energetic he'll let you climb and swing from his extra limbs

Some days you can convince him to play hide and seek

If he sense someone coming, he has a tiny burrow hole your size and hides you in there

A little paranoid if you leave the lab that G.H.O.S.T might find you so you have a little living space

Likes to poke you with his extra legs to make you giggle

Will teach you new things and walk you through whatever inventions he's making

Is happy if you offer to help him

More than happy to comfort you in a situation and has many limbs to hug you better

Shockwave

He's like the strict dad who has eyes on the back of his head

Ironic for someone with only one eye but-

When you try and sneak out the lab or go for a walk, he'll ask where you're going or what you're doing without even turning

If you give him sass, he'll sass you back and you guys have a lot of playful bickers

Basically "home schools" you but not really

Just teaches you something new every day

Seems like he hates affection but will hold you in his hand or let you fall asleep on him as he works in the lab

Listens to every word you say and gives suggestions to help

You stump him all the time with shower thoughts

He makes sure you're healthy and makes you drink 8 cups of water a day as well as eating meals

Does not take no for an answer

Doesn't matter if you're 10 or a grown ass adult, he'll put you in a corner for time out

Oh he knows you're too old he just does it cause he's petty like that

Breakdown

Not the best influence but definitely one of the more fun ones

He'll take you on energon runs as he explains to you not to turn out like him

Takes you to an empty street or raceway to absolutely speed

He cracks dad jokes all the time.

If you have a bad day he'll try to make you laugh by jokes or something

He's protective of you to the point where when he knows the littlest thing of G.H.O.S.T in the area, yall are gone

Teaches you how to fight in case of an event where he cannot be there for you

Doesn't mind carrying you or letting you sit on his shoulder

He might be a douche sometimes and moves the shoulder you're on to catch you off guard

Laughs when you swear

I wouldn't say he's like a parent but more so a parent / big brother type of guy

=========================

[reds-writings]

crashin' the party

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: a bit of a whopper that had me stumped for a bit. i sincerely hope you like it. i didn't plan to go this far with the jj universe but the more i do the more fun i have with these two! i'm going to rearrange my masterlist a bit and put these parts in a more chronological order! this part technically takes place before the events of if only tonight we could sleep. feedback is always cherished and my requests are open!

word count: roughly 6.7k

warnings: cursing, fighting (verbal and physical), two idiots being dumb, miscommunication trope, the boy's a liar, guns, mentions of drugs, rust self-sabotaging, marty being marty, ANGST, making up at the end, things can be a lil toxic, reader gets the shit end of the stick in most of this, etc

You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something rather egregious was brewing behind your back over the past several days. Starting with the unfortunate shitshow that was Marty’s young thing of a mistress letting Maggie in on his line of transgressions due to a fit of spite. The fallout was more than unsavory which had him plenty distracted with trying to hopelessly pick up the shattered pieces of his now blown-up marriage. 

Then, Rust decided to take a few week's leave in the middle of the case. Which came completely out of left field given his obsession with having this all solved more rapidly due to the ever-shortening time limit Quesada had set for you all. A dying father in Alaska or something along those lines. He hadn’t exactly informed you of it directly himself until you rang him up the night he was supposedly set to depart. 

“Heard you were takin’ leave.” You idly twisted the phone chord between your fingers as you sat atop your kitchen counter. One of your coworkers at the precinct had mentioned it off-handedly earlier in the day and you were more than curious as to why everyone else seemed to know of Rust’s so-called last-minute trip and not you. 

“Yeah.” Rust’s static voice sounded back to you, sounding stranger than what was his usual. More dazed and gruff.

“In the middle of this case?”

“Mhm…”

“...Mind sharin’ why?” He was being more elusive than usual and it was starting to grate your nerves further by the minute.  

“Visitin’ my father. Anchorage. He’s dyin’.” 

Oh. 

“I’m uh...I'm sorry to hear that…when are you headin’ out? Need me to drive you to the airport or somethin’?-”

“Marty’s takin’ me. Tonight.” 

That made you even more surprised. It wasn’t like the two were necessarily all that chummy. You tried not to let it sting that there seemed to be a purposeful choice in having Marty take him instead of you. The dynamic between you two wasn’t at its most idyllic but you hadn’t thought it to be too strained despite recent events. Things with the investigation were just piling up, getting trickier and more stressful to manage as time ticked on. 

Sure, you guys hadn’t exactly been able to elaborate further on what was the bomb of feelings he had all but dropped on you but you hadn’t been taking it personally. At least not until now. Maybe he was starting to regret things. This was probably him pulling away so you’d get the hint to not be so keen on him moving forward. Were you coming off as desperate?  Suffocating?

Realizing you’d yet to say anything you cleared your throat a bit, “Thought Marty would’ve been too busy dealin' with winning back Maggie and everything...” The couple already managed to give you more than a migraine or two since things went to shit. On top of Marty’s deep-seated 'woe is me' bullshit, Maggie had managed to stop by demanding answers in a hysterical flurry to things you had no knowledge of or frankly any business in. 

“I won’t be back for a bit.” It was becoming apparent that he wanted to finish up this conversation sooner rather than later. 

“Okay…I guess I’ll keep lookin’ for leads and whatnot. There might be a girl I know from way back who’s tied up in the kind of crowd we’re lookin’ at. I’m hopin’ she might be familiar with Ledoux or somethin’. If there’s anything you want me diggin’ into just give me a shout I guess.”

He was silent for a moment you considered too prolonged.

“I gotta head out. Keep track of what you find. Marty’ll be watchin’ my place.” 

“You got it.” 

More silence.

“Bye, Y/n.” 

“Bye-” The line went dead before you knew it. 

Geez. 

The dial tone mocked you as you sat there in curling embarrassment. You don’t think he’d ever blown you off so bluntly before. Not even when you two first met. Your neck and face started to grow warm as you fought off the increasing sense of rejection brought on by your own insecurities and his sudden callousness. You were just overthinking things. Rust’s father was dying and it wasn’t like you could expect him to properly express what it was he was going through. You just had to be somewhat okay with standing by on the sidelines until he was ready to open up on the matter. 

You hadn’t heard much about Rust’s parents or his upbringing but from what little tidbits he managed to drop it wasn’t anything to be envious of. Things seemed complicated from the sounds of it so you had no doubt Rust was probably just having a tougher time trying to navigate what he felt in anticipation of the grief that awaited him ahead.

Meanwhile, after hanging up on you, Rust couldn’t help but bring a heavy hand to his eyes as he sighed through his nose. Marty eyed him warily as he sat across from him in the depressing confines of his partner’s apartment. 

“So you lied to her.” 

Rust didn’t bother meeting the blonde’s disappointed look. 

“You don’t think that oughta blow up in your face? She’s sharper than you may realize…ain’t some fragile thing who can’t handle her shit-”

“Don't need her on this, Marty.” Rust tried remaining passive at the mention of you. 

Things were becoming too complicated. A consequence of his pathetic failure to keep his baneful desires in check. Giving in to those false hopes had him feeling increasingly weak and cheap the longer he had time to sit and torture himself over it. To entertain such notions with you was cruel to an extent he found himself severely uncomfortable with. It wouldn’t work. Not in this lifetime or perhaps any other that would exist in the infinite hell that was the universe. If he backed away now perhaps he could still hold onto whatever little semblance of control he had left. 

“Don’t need her on this or don’t want her on this? There’s a mighty big difference, buddy.” Marty didn’t necessarily know about the recent developments between you two but it was apparent he was becoming aware that something was afoot. The pair stared at each other long and hard.

“This is a two-man job. No need for added weight.” Rust broke first, taking a long drag from the cigarette pinched between his nimble fingers.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself. This is her case too and I don’t appreciate you havin’ me be part of some lie-”

“I can remind you that you haven’t had much of a problem with lyin’ as of late-” 

“Oi, don’t get all judgy with me just cause you’re scared of somethin’ you ain’t got the emotional bandwidth to fuckin’ handle on your own. Y/n’s a smart girl. Strong. It would be unwise of you to underestimate her abilities because of some holdup you’ve got-”

“Marty.” Was Rust’s final warning. The steeliness of it had the blonde’s hands going up in mock surrender. If Rust didn’t want to unpack his growingly obvious partialness towards you then he wouldn’t bother pressing. It’s not like he was much in the mood to help out the pissy curmudgeon he called a partner with any hypothetical advances toward you. Marty saw you as something similar to that of a little sister. He wasn’t sold on the idea of romance, if Rust were even capable of the notion, happening between you two. In his opinion, your heart was just too big for the likes of Rust. He didn’t want to see you put in the monumental effort of caring for the hopeless loner only to be sorely disappointed in return. 

The days following the odd phone call had that intuitive feeling in your gut growing all the more sour. You tried your best to find more on Ledoux but the bastard was practically a ghost. Any and all traces left behind were either long gone by now or slipping from you faster than you could blink. Marty wasn’t being much help either, hardly showing up at work or being in a perpetual state of buzzed when he did actually bother to grace everyone with his presence. 

Though, anytime you did really manage to catch him he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye for longer than what he deemed necessary. Either the obvious bout of drinking he was throwing himself into was reaching a dangerously depressive territory or he was feeling guilty about something else entirely. He never was the best at bluffing when it came to things outside of the job. It was even more rare to find yourself in a situation where he had something to lie about to you in the first place. 

Something was definitely up. 

“Maggie talk to you yet?” You asked, setting down a styrofoam box of takeout in front of him as he sat miserably hungover at his desk. He took a peek inside and mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ before deciding to dig in.

“No…she ain’t answerin’ any of my calls. Her pops told me to fuck off plenty already so he ain’t an option of gettin’ through to her neither.”

“It’s a pretty big deal, Marty. It’s best to probably just…give her time to feel angry. Your constant pokin’ at her is only gonna drive her away further. Goin’ to the hospital huffin’ and puffin' like you did didn’t help your case either.” You sipped your coffee as you watched him rub at his eyes.

“I just needed her to hear me out. Hell, I even got Rust to go-” His stocky shoulders locked up suddenly, seeming to have caught himself in revealing too much before settling on shoveling more food into his mouth. 

Your eyes tightened in suspicion.

“Speakin’ of, you heard anything from Rust while he’s been away?” 

Marty shook his head a little too fast to be considered convincing, “Not a peep,” Obvious lie, “can’t imagine the intense bouts of angst he’s brewing up for himself all the way where he's holed up.” 

“Mhm. How’re you holdin’ up at his place? Need me to bring by anything? I know it ain’t necessarily the Hilton-”

“N-no! I’m good. No. I uh-...I got some groceries the other day. It’s a mystery how that guy survives with what little he keeps in his damn fridge. Just ridiculous.” He coughed and took a sip of his own coffee, avoiding your growingly pointed glare. He could feel sweat start to form on his brow and he knew he needed to head out before he fucked everything up even more. Having Maggie angry at him was already enough to deal with. 

“I bet. Listen-”

“L-Look I gotta get goin’. Regrettably, I drank too much last night and it’s honest to God catchin’ up to me right about now and I don’t need Quesada givin’ me shit. Sorry to bail on ya but I’ll see you later, a-alright? Thanks for the food.” Marty scrambled to get his stuff before semi-hurrying to scamper off. He could feel your eyes burning at the back of his head but he didn’t dare to look back. 

Unfurling your arms you sat your mug down and reached for the receiver on your desk. It was a last-ditch effort, dialing Maggie, to see if Marty’s slip of the tongue about Rust meant anything substantial. If they were chatting here and there while Rust was away that was fine. If Marty was having Rust get through to Maggie all the way from where he was that was fine too. If Rust wasn’t in Alaska at all then you’re sure that ugly sensation building within you would multiply tenfold easily. After a few rings the line clicked with an answer.

“Hello?” Maggie’s soft lilt came from the other line. She sounded a little less upset than when you last saw her but still tired nonetheless.

“Hey, Mags. It’s Y/n. Just wanted to see what you were up to. How’re you holdin’ up?” You tried to maintain an air of complete casualness. No ulterior motives to this call whatsoever. 

“Oh, hey! I uhm…I’m doing okay I guess. Trying not to let everything catch up to me all at once, y’know. It’s been hard…keeping what I can away from the girls. Marty just won’t quit it with trying to wear me down. It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah…I told him to leave you be but he never was much of an avid listener. We may work together but just know I ain’t takin’ his side on all this.” You offered up and it was true. Marty may have been your coworker for several years now and something close to a decent friend but this wasn’t something you were gonna coddle him about. The consequences of his petty adultery were ones he had to deal with entirely on his own. 

“Thank you. You should try telling Rust that. Marty’s resorted to having him try to talk me down too, if you can believe it. Not that it worked or anything but I’m getting tired of feeling like I’m the one who should feel guilty for walking away when Marty decided to fuck it all up in the first place.” The woman’s tone grew a touch more frantic as her rant went more into detail but you stopped listening at the mention of Rust. 

Y’know, the one who was supposed to be thousands of miles away right now. 

“He got Rust to talk to you?” You interjected, only feeling a tiny pang of guilt for cutting in.

“Y-yeah. It uh…well it didn’t go to well. Y’know him. He didn’t try to blow smoke up Marty’s ass too much but he brought up the kids which more or less set me off. I said some harsh things but he just wouldn’t quit it with the whole ‘men and women don’t work' thing and 'our only purpose is reproduction’ or whatever bullshit spiel he had on his list of many-”

“When did this happen?” 

“Earlier today. We met at some diner but it didn’t last long with him walking out. I do feel bad for getting ahead of myself but…I don’t know. If you see him could you tell him I’m sorry? I don’t want things being more uncomfortable than they already are between all of us…” 

Ice started to spread like some nasty disease in your veins. The way your heart was stuttering out of rhythm had you grasping at your chest. You held the receiver between your ear and shoulder as your mind went blank at her simple confession. You didn’t know if what was actively consuming you was pure rage or a deep sense of betrayal. He had lied. They both lied. Like it was nothing. 

Why?

Forcing yourself to sound unaffected you spoke up again, “Sure, I can do that for you. I’m sure he ain’t too hung up on whatever it is you said so I wouldn’t beat myself up over it. Sometimes he oughta be put in his place for what he lets slip out of his mouth.”

“You’re probably right. Thank you, Y/n.”

“No problem. I’ll check in with you later alright, Mags?” Your chest was starting to rise and fall at a rapid pace. You needed to get out of here. 

“Alright, Y/n. Thank you again. Take care.” Was her warm reply before you set down the phone almost robotically. 

They had really fucking lied.

It was well into the night by the time you found yourself parked outside of Rust’s apartment. The throbbing in your skull had grown exponentially since your chat with Maggie and the muscle in your chest had yet to cease its sickening pace. It felt as if you were experiencing everything from outside of your body. As if you had no control over your limbs when you clambered out of your car and nearly slammed the door off its hinges. 

They wouldn’t lie to you like this. This was just one big misunderstanding. It had to be! You’d rather be angry for nothing than have the impending doom of betrayal strike you in a way that you felt would be irreversible. 

They just wouldn’t do that to you.

Raising a shaking fist and pounding on the door, it sounded like you were there to raid the damn place like it was police business. You attempted to steady your breathing but as your impatience grew you found yourself pounding again when there wasn’t a fast enough answer. Marty and Rust’s respective vehicles were both here so there was no chance of no one being home. 

Before you unleashed hell on the door once more it swung open to reveal a frazzled Marty. He stood there frozen, jaw opening and closing, visibly at a loss seeing your figure standing in the doorway. He looked ready to just about shit himself. 

“Y/n! W-what-”

“Now, I know you know I ain’t stupid. So if you’ve got somethin’ you’re hidin’, which I know you are, you best 'fess up now-”

“I-I don’t know what-”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. I called Maggie. I know he's here.” You felt like some feral cat with its hackles rising by the minute. It was a rare occurrence to find yourself this upset.

“Y/n that ain’t-”

“If you have nothin’ you’re lyin’ about, if he's really not here then let me in.”

He opened his mouth only to be cut off, unsurprisingly, again. 

“Now, Martin.” 

The two of you stared at each other and Marty felt an unsettling sensation lick up his spine. There was no stopping you, especially not when you were like this. He must’ve hesitated for a hair too long because before he knew it you were slamming past the doorway, nearly knocking the wind out of him in the process.

The sight before you had you halting in the middle of your warpath. There stood Rust, still as a statue, looking like a full-blown tweakin’ asshole biker as if it were second nature to him. In the back of your mind, info from files about him being involved in undercover narcotics work for quite some time sparked recognition but you couldn’t seem to connect it with what was playing out right in front of you. All you knew was that something was obviously about to go down and they hadn’t even the slightest intention of making you aware. 

It felt like one devastating punch to the stomach. 

“What’s goin' on?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears. It felt like your head was being held underwater as you stared down the man opposing you. 

No one made a move to answer. 

“I said what the fuck is goin' on.” Your tone grew stronger and both men had the nerve to look sorry at your state of distress. 

“We have a line on Ledoux.” Rust ground out, having a hard time connecting with your gaze. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not tonight. Not ever. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need the distraction nor your wrath towards his pathetically selfish reasonings for not letting you in on any of this. 

“And it just slipped your mind to give me the heads up? In case you might’ve forgotten I happen to work on this case with the both of you dipshits too. If there’s a tip towards that meth-head fuck then I’d think it’d be common knowledge that I oughta know too.” You snapped, venom bitterly coiled its way through you as the rage taking up space in your body had you hardly seeing straight.

“You didn’t need to be involved. It’s undercover work to get a way in with Ledoux. I don’t need both you and Marty to worry about when I’m dealing with-” 

“Oh, fuck you! Fuck you both! That ain’t for you to decide. I can handle my shit just fine. You're tellin' me you two can throw yourselves into whatever shady bullshit it is your plannin' that could have you killed but I have to sit back like the clueless fuckin' idiot? Make that make fuckin' sense!” You were up in his face shouting now and it infuriated you that he was rearing back like some spooked horse to avoid your anger. 

Fucking coward. 

“Underestimatin’ me like this makes you just as bad as the rest of them in the department. If you think I lack the capability for any of this then you be a man and take that up with me. You don’t make that idiot over there lie for you.” You grabbed firmly at the worn leather of his stupid jacket and he just took it. His heart was hammering and he suddenly felt ill. This was all going wrong and his mind couldn’t keep up. Nothing wanted to pass the threshold of his lips. 

Seeing that he wasn’t going to reply you let go, feeling sudden shame wash over you at your burst of hysteria. Your eyes were starting to burn intensely as the weight of the current circumstances started to settle down on you, making you take a few steps back.

You felt like nothing. It wasn’t an experience you were necessarily new to but having it come from them had you more blindsided than ever imaginable. All you could keep asking yourself was: why? Marty’s never doubted you or gone behind your back. He was one of the only ones who believed in you when you first started out as some newbie of an investigator. You’ve known him for nearly a decade and looking at his pitiful expression now only had you feeling disgusted.

Rust you couldn’t even bother to pick apart any further. You had the impression he respected you enough on the job but that had been debunked in nothing short of just a few hours. Where did he get off? You weren’t some burden who’d just weigh the whole process down with your implied inferiority. None of this was making any sense and your heaving shoulders failed to stop their jittering as you took in the room surrounding you. An old red toolbox sat on the carpeted floor between two lawn chairs with a few guns, random documents, drug baggies, and whatnot scattered around. A black satellite phone on the dining table’s surface caught your eye and a sharp exhale left your nose. Your eyes drifted back to Rust. The bated silence that had blanketed the room was unbearable to the two men. 

“Whether you like it or not you’ve earned yourself an extra set of eyes. I’m sure Marty can catch me up on everything on the way to Tweakersville since y’all tell each other everything now durin' your lil’ sleepovers.” You snatched a pistol from the floor and tucked it into your waistband before stepping out. 

“Dyin’ father in Anchorage…what a crock of shit…” Were your departing mumbles as you disappeared out the door.  It took everything in Marty’s being to not let out the pettiest of ‘I told you so’s’. 

Rust only moved to bring trembling fingers to check his pulse. 

The resulting car ride between you and Marty was deathly quiet as you stared out the window. You could tell he wanted to speak up but finding the right words wasn’t coming easy to him. It wasn’t until you pulled up to the shithole that passed as a dive bar that he worked up the courage to blurt out his defense.

“I didn’t wanna lie to you.” You just scoffed and shook your head wryly.

“Yet here we are.”

“What we’re doin’ ain’t necessarily legal-”

“So? It’s ain't like I’m sheltered from the ways of a dirty cop. I’ve done my fair share of shit over the years.” The skin around your nails was becoming raw at your incessant biting and Marty ignored the urge to swat your hands away from yourself. 

“This wasn’t done out of thinkin’ you weren’t capable. You have to know that.” 

“You can say that but I’m still havin’ a hard time workin’ out any other reason why you’d try to fuck me over like this.” You fixed him with a hard stare and he could only sigh. God, were you stubborn when you wanted to be. He needed to save his own skin on this one, Rust be damned. 

“Hon, Rust’s throwin’ himself back into some old gang mess for the sake of this case. Now, from the looks of it, I’d say he ain’t too keen on having to do it at all in the first place. I’m sure you’re aware of what working narcotics can do to the mind of a man for the minimal time he’s set to do it out on the field. Let alone what it could do one working at it for four years nonstop. The man nearly died doin’ all this shit on more than one occasion. Shootins...cartel torture. Which brings me to my next point.” Your partner watched you intently as if to make sure you were fully listening. 

You made no signs of ignoring him so he continued,

“I don’t know what’s goin' on between him and you, if there even is somethin' going on, but it shouldn’t be hard for you to imagine that he’s strugglin' with it a whole lot. It’s obvious he don’t know how to come to terms with most of what he’s feeling so it’s hard to determine just what the hell he’d do when it comes to being interested in a woman. Let alone you.”

“I fail to see what you’re gettin’ at.” You knew exactly what he was implying but childish insolence held priority.

“Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here. Perhaps out of everyone he’s encountered ever. You challenge his way of structure. All the Debby Downer bullshit he tells himself starts to lack any sense. Not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation. He may not admit that and you may not bother to believe it but that’s just what I see. You know I wouldn’t vouch for him on shit like this out of charity.” 

The words sank in deep as you ruminated over them. It made sense but out of pure stubbornness, you didn’t really want to acknowledge it right then and there. When you had a clearer head you could probably find yourself empathizing with Rust’s decisions but you felt like you did enough of that already when it came to any other screw-up of his. This instance cut deep for another reason. Your trust had been breached to an awful extent and it just wouldn’t work if you had to fear it happening again. Romantically or professionally. It wasn’t up to him to make these choices for you. Especially when it came down to your line of work. You couldn’t tolerate that type of interference. 

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Is what you settled on before turning to people watch out of your rolled-down window. 

“I really am sorry, Y/n.” He spoke up again but you were too worn out to accept anything else at the moment. Even if you knew he was being sincere.

You ignored the nagging in the back of your mind that things would likely go terribly wrong sometime tonight. It annoyed you that being as mad as you were you still had half the mind to pray Rust didn’t end up getting killed doing whatever it was he was doing with that gang leader Ginger. You'd be devastated, fight or no fight. Marty had tried assuring you this was all meant to be quick and easy but you didn’t believe it one bit. 

Minutes passed before you and Marty made your way to split up inside the bar. Marty wanted to keep an eye on Rust and you just wanted to make sure Marty didn’t do something stupid. It was safe to say he stuck out like a sore thumb in his bright Pink Floyd shirt and trucker hat amongst the throngs of burly, tatted bikers prowling about. Your expression remained neutral as you felt the number of greedy eyes growing on you while you slinked around. The music was too loud and the thick haze of smoke stung your eyes. The smell in here was more or less repulsive, having you fight the urge to wrinkle your burning nose in disgust. Rust didn’t seem to be anywhere around inside, meaning he was striking the ‘deal’ somewhere out back where the other hoards of folks were hanging around.

It didn’t take long for a commotion to rise up with the unfortunate cause of it being Marty. He was bumbling out apologies as some big oaf all but dragged him out of the bar with people hollering after him. You tried your best to briskly follow, making it out in time to see the man get thrown onto his ass. Miscalculating your gait you just about slammed into the scary man from behind at his sudden stop. 

Meaty hands yanked at your shirt and slammed your poor back into a post near the entrance. “Just what the fuck are you doin', bitch.” 

Trying not to gag at the state of his breath you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, “Was just tryin' to leave so you can get right up off me-”

The man shoved you again and took his huge mitt of a hand to your throat, “You and your punk ass friend don’t belong sniffin’ 'round here.”

“I don’t know that son of a bitch so fuckin' let go!-” A burst of stars entered your vision as his fist nearly sent you sailing down the old wooden ramp. A boot or two kicked at your curled-up figure, catching you in the ribs and stomach a few times. One even clocked you in the jaw and you hoped you’d still have teeth left if you were lucky enough to make it out. Heavy footsteps boomed against the growing crowd’s uproar and your adrenaline kicked itself up a few notches. The giant's paws cleared the way and jerked you up again, the force of it having your feet leave the ground for a split second. You were struck again, then once more before your hand fumbled behind your back and got a good grip on the pistol in your jeans. 

Cold metal jabbed into the grand protrusion that was his belly and it had him stilling almost immediately. 

“Unless you want a bullet or two in your fatass gut, I suggest you let me go.” You spat.

When you didn’t get an answer fast enough, the cocking of the gun’s hammer sure as hell had him dropping you fast. As soon as he did you smacked him across the face with the butt of it and sent him to his knees. A naive soul or two began to make a move but you were quicker in aiming the gun at them in warning. Blood from your nose leaked like a faucet into your gaping mouth as you struggled for air. They sure managed to get you good. The growing pain you felt all over attested to that fact. 

Once you were sure no one else would pounce, you spit on the big man and backed away with your gun in the air. You nudged Marty with your boot to make him get the hell up before you two booked it back to the car. According to him, Rust got roped into going down the Bayou with Ginger so you two had to make it out quick.

So much for quick and easy. 

You couldn’t even bother to check the time as you sat reclined in the car to wait for Rust’s signal. Marty parked at some mostly empty lot near a grocery mart and scurried inside to grab you a few things. The bag of frozen peas didn’t do much for your rapidly swelling eye or aching jaw. Your nose didn’t seem to be too broken but with all its nerves it made no difference in hurting like a bitch. The bleeding from both your nostrils and mouth had started to clot thankfully but you still sat wheezing from your abused ribs. 

“So much for being able to fuckin' handle yourself.” Marty huffed as he flipped through a tattered copy of Rust’s Nietzche. What was intended as a laugh came out as a wet rattle instead, making the blonde look at you in alarm.

“He let go of me, didn’t he? Not like you were much use.” Your tongue rolled around in the space of your mouth, forgoing the taste of copper in making sure none of your pearly whites were at risk of falling out. 

“How’re you gonna explain this at work?”

“I dunno. I’ll say I took a tumble down my staircase or somethin’. Who cares.” It was likely your lazy nonchalance was the result of a possible concussion. It was getting harder to keep yourself awake as you two were made to wait patiently. 

“Oh yeah. Casual tumble down the stairs. Makes perfect fuckin’ sense-” Marty’s bickering was cut off by the satellite phone’s sudden shrill ringing. You both shot up, adrenaline entering your systems once more, before he hurried to answer it. You could faintly hear a shouted line of demands before Marty confirmed what he heard and peeled off toward the location Rust had given him. You willed your hands to steady as you fumbled with the map you pulled from the glove compartment, making sure you weren’t going the wrong way.

The ninety seconds Rust gave was more like an eternity before you skirted up to the neighborhood that felt like an active warzone. As he was nearing the vehicle with a stumbling man in his clutches, who you assumed was Ginger, you leaped out of the car to open up the back and usher them in. You raised your pistol in a one-handed grip, keeping the other on the door as they stumbled inside. There was shouting from figures out following in the distance and gunfire that was making its way closer and closer. When they found themselves situated you slammed the car door shut and sent off a warning shot or two to keep the approaching group away. Responding bullets were your only answer, having you all but swing back into the passenger’s seat as they whizzed past you. Only one had managed to skim past your ear in sheer dumb luck, leaving your ear ringing something awful. 

With you safely inside, Marty sped off again at Rust’s sharp command. You couldn’t really hear their yelling over the pounding of your heart and the fact your right ear seemed to be temporarily out of commission from the narrowly missed bullet. 

You couldn’t dwell too much on the fact that with an inch difference it would’ve been your head. 

Hours later, daylight agitated your vision as you waited in the new setting that was Rust’s truck. After seeing the state you were in he all but hauled you with him to wherever he planned on taking Ginger, declaring he had some first aid kit he’d need to use on you. You didn’t bother putting up much of a fight when he ordered you to wait in the truck outside of the diner you stopped at after patching you up in the limited capacity he was able to. You were just too exhausted. You hadn’t even mustered the curiosity to get a good look at Ginger tied up in the back as you had driven. Probably safer that he didn’t get a good look at you anyway. 

Rust’s plan b with Dewall didn’t seem to pan out too well either as he came back to the truck with a deep-set scowl. Shoving Ginger back into place all bound up before climbing in up front. There was still hope that Marty would successfully trail the cook to wherever his hideout may be but Rust’s silence was conceringly heavy. Though, now wasn’t the time or the place to get into it with him all over again. You must’ve dozed off somewhere during the ride because when you opened your eyes, well eye…the other having swelled completely shut by now, you were pulled over on some trail. Rust just sat staring out at the scenery, more than likely lost in a swirl of his own thoughts, taking a moment to collect himself. Ginger's form was long gone from the back. 

At the sound of you rustling in your spot, he merely glanced your way before looking away again. There was a tick in his jaw that didn’t escape you and you sighed knowing you’d have to be the one to buck up first. 

“It looks worse than it feels.” Lie. Even the scratchy croak of your voice called you out on it.

“I didn’t want you here for a reason. What good is it if you wind up dead-"

“What you want isn’t always what you get. Next time don't take me for some fool-” 

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid-”

“And don’t you talk to me like you’ve lost your goddamn mind just cause of your pride,” You nearly thundered as you stared him down, “What happened, happened. It’s over. We pulled through with your wild-ass cowboy mission. Your panties can untwist now.”

A warm hand came to grip at your ribs, not violently, but firm enough to prove his point when the pain from your bruising nearly blinded you. Your own hand snapped up to grip at his arm as if playing a fucked up game of chicken. Who would break first? You’d be damned if it were you. Though the look in the man’s eyes had you faltering. You’d seen it before. That deep-rooted fear that bled out against his own will when it came to you more often than not. It seemed to hit him harder now that he was getting a good look at your battered and bloodied face in the afternoon light. Marty’s words from earlier felt mocking as they rang in your head. 

Rust doubts you the least out of everyone around here...not bringin' you on this was an act of piss-poor self-preservation.

The idea of anything with you made him scared. Scared for you and scared for himself.

“Why did you lie to me? Truly.” Your voice fell quiet, the fight in you left just as quickly as it had found you. 

He just blinked before letting his hand drop from you, however, yours stayed on him, “You’re a smart girl. You can work it out for yourself I’m sure.” He almost sounded sardonic.

“Maybe. But I’d like to hear it from you.” It might’ve been foolish to expect confessions of pure honesty from him but you’d keep giving him that option should he ever choose. 

When he said nothing you brushed a knuckle beneath his eye then across his sharp cheekbone. His tired eyes fought themselves from fluttering, trying not to let your touch utterly consume him whole. It proved to be even harder when your thumb swept feather-light over his chapped bottom lip before retreating completely.  

“Anything can happen, y'know. Anywhere, anytime. If you find yourself fearful of that fact pertainin’ to me then you need to let it go. If the idea of this,” You made a small gesture between you both, “is too much for you or you’ve realized you don’t want it anymore then that’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can handle just about anything. Your sanity and the sake of our professional partnership hold more priority over my whims. I don’t want my existence scarin' you to where it creates this big rift or you go to these dumb lengths to push me away.” 

Those long fingers of his fiddled with the ends of your hair, grounding himself with what little contact he was able to allow himself in the moment. He was still undecided on what he wanted to do with you. What he wanted to be with you. The paleness of his skin covered by the sheen layer of sweat from the comedown of whatever he likely took in the company of Ginger had him looking gaunt. Aged even. He found himself drifting between somewhere far away and being present here with you.

“This can’t happen again, Rust. Whether we’re something or not. Especially if we find ourselves workin’ together for however long down the road. It won’t work for me no matter the circumstance. Best believe I’ll be firm on that.” You flicked at this chin lightly, hoping some of the damage from the last twenty-four hours could be undone. 

“I’m-...I’m sorry.” Came the only remaining thing that could sound from his throat. And you’d take it for now. 

“I’ll get over it. Eventually. It might be a tall order but you need to get in the business of regulatin’ how you respond to your own emotions more.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” His final response was slightly choked but he didn’t give much else away after that. Sniffling, you leaned to the side on the truck's leather bench seat to rest your head on his shoulder once he twisted forward to face the wheel. An arm circled around your frame, his large hand finding purchase in your hair and you let yourself go for a moment as the truck began to roll forward. 

You continued down the path in a more comfortable silence where Marty would be waiting for you at the end to scout for Ledoux’s hideout. Soon this could all hopefully be over and done with. What would come after, though, you hadn’t the slightest clue.

a/n: forgive me, babes. they'll be happier (until 02). thanks for reading! i'll probably go back and edit this a bunch of times bc i'm neurotic like that!

[theres-a-body-here]

Daemonology: Purson

Male demon x Male!reader

Part 2

Purson sighed deeply as he tapped his claws on his throne. He liked to think of himself as a patient demon, but sometimes, he swore his followers were stupid.

You stood before him, nervously playing with your fingers.

"You stand before me to ask for…a kiss?" Purson asked, his deep voice resonating like a rumbling thunder.

"Yes, sir," you said meekly, unable to meet his fiery eyes.

Purson pinched the top of his muzzle, eyes shut as he contemplated. "I fell from heaven for this," he muttered under his breath.

Evocations don't happen often, and when they do, the devotee usually asks for riches, power, or some other vain thing. Purson was actually stumped you would waste such an event for a simple kiss.

He looked at the paper he held in his other hand, reviewing your profile. It seemed you were a devoted follower, which was certainly in your favor. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if it was worth the trouble of granting your request. After all, demons didn't just bestow their affections on anyone who asked.

But then again, maybe it wouldn't hurt to indulge you once. His red eyes finally met yours.

"Alright," Purson's deep voice boomed across the chamber as he made up his mind. "Come here, little one," he commanded, gesturing for you to step closer.

With apprehension, you approached him, feeling the heat radiating off his form as you neared his throne. He patted his lap invitingly, indicating where he wanted you to sit. Your heart raced as you climbed onto his lap.

As you settled onto his lap, Purson wrapped an arm around your waist, his sharp claws digging gently into your flesh. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt his warmth envelop you, both physically and metaphorically. He sets your profile on the desk besides the throne before focusing his attention on you.

Slowly, Purson cupped your chin in his large hand, careful not to prick you with his claws. His hot breath tickled your face as he raised your head towards his own. Gods, he truly was massive—his size alone enough to send a wave of trepidation through you. Yet despite your anxiety, there was also an undeniable thrill coursing through your veins.

He leaned in close until his lips were mere inches from yours, his eyes boring into yours. "Do you still wish for my kiss?"

"Yes," you whispered, feeling moths flutter in your stomach.

With a sudden motion, Purson leaned in and planted a quick peck on your lips. When he pulled back, he observed how your eyes were closed in bliss and your lips were parted ever so slightly, expectantly waiting for more. You opened one eye curiously, wondering why the kiss had been so brief.

"Were you expecting more?" Purson asked, feigning disdain to tease you, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed.

"No," you stammered, trying not to sound ungrateful. "It was perfect." Although it was clear that you desired more than just a brief encounter.

"I was just teasing," Purson admitted with a low rumble, patting your waist affectionately.

Once more, Purson cupped your chin tenderly in his palm and brought his lips to yours. This time, instead of pulling away quickly, he pressed his lips firmly against yours, allowing you to savor the contact. You closed your eyes as the warmth spread throughout your body, losing yourself in the moment.

As you surrendered to the kiss, you felt his rough lion tongue tentatively test your lips, seeking permission to deepen the embrace further. Without thinking twice, you eagerly parted your lips in acceptance, welcoming his probing tongue within your mouth.

His hot breath filled your senses as he explored every corner of your mouth, the taste of sulfur lingering on his tongue sending shivers down your spine. It wasn't unpleasant though—far from it—and soon you found yourself matching his fervor, eagerly returning each stroke of his tongue with one of your own.

As the kiss came to an end, Purson gave your waist a gentle squeeze before pulling away. "Was that to your liking?" he rumbled with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle deeply. The vibrations of his laughter sent pleasant shivers through your entire body.

"Good," Purson declared with satisfaction as he released you from his lap. Standing up shakily, your knees threatened to give out beneath you, but somehow, you managed to maintain your balance.

"Make sure to send in the next person on your way out," he instructed, already focusing on another devotee's profile.

With a dazed expression on your face, you nodded obediently and began to make your way out of the temple, the memory of his kiss still fresh on your lips.

Maybe you might find the courage to ask for another kiss at the next evocation—but for now, you knew better than to push your luck too far.

After all, even demons had their limits.

[kuni-is-daddy]

I'm absolutely in love with your writing! I'd really like to see more of Lesser Lord!reader, the dynamic is *chef kiss*.

Sub! Wanderer X Top/dom Lesser Lord Fem Reader!

'A moment of dreams'

FT:// Spoilers for Nahidas First story quest. WordCount: 2k+ (Mostly their dynamic.)

//: GoodBoy/mommy Kink, Teasing, Calls reader darling sometimes.

CW: Minors do NOT interact past the cut! This is a NSFW POST!!

|Scaraficlist!|ScaraNSFWAlphabet|WandererBdaySpecial|

After One of the 6 cardinal sins of the akademiya we're committed by A now expelled scholar, Moseis. You spent most of your days around the akademiya for 'the moment of dreams' festival; At a weekly expense Scholars and avid readers would eagerly await your Enlightening opinion and guidance on Dreams, Beliefs and other teyvat events.

With the sun setting Over the akademiyas roof top the line finally concluded. 1 man was standing by. "Lessor lord Y/N!" He called out, dressed in black and brown drapes. It was Ata, A usual visitor who recently started studying in Vahumana. You yawned then sat up in the chair and brushed some paperwork aside. His cheeks flashed a bright red and he covered his face behind two papers, The back of it already seeped dried ink through the lines. He leaned down and slid you his papers shyly.

You slid your gold embedded bracelets up, then retrieved his papers, The handwriting was rather sloppy. Grabbing a pen you began to write on the crumpled paper, highlighting certain parts of the young mans dream that seemed significant (Or really, The only parts you understood). As the two of you began to discuss his dreams and concerns You couldnt help but think of Kuni, He's also been studying at Vahumana under your request but treated it more like a hobby. He didnt attend lectures, Take extra classes or interact with other scholars of his branch. For Archons sake He barely touched the 'diabetically' sweet cake they gave him for his birthday and shared his slice with you. Then claimed that they followed him in the forest just go even give him a gift. Just how did they know he was there…

He asked you once, but you merely shrugged and drifted off on the path to hide your smile. Continuing to pick through beds of flowers while he relaxed on a stump. As he rested a couple of aranara began to pass by. "Hat rana hat rana! Did you enjoy your special day? Aranara came with gifts on request of Queen Aranyani!" 'Aranyani..?' Arunakula came by with a flower in its hand, A lotus, Then placed it besides his hat. Wanderer sucked his teeth but stayed quiet as another gave him a flower. Once they left, he had 3 yellow Lotus's. Then put them in his pocket softly once the Aranara left.

After a Gesture and parting smile you greeted Ata off, He then bowed graciously again. You sighed and pushed yourself out the chair, taking a folder of papers with your pen clipped inside it and your keychain. Two Matra stood outside the event and immediately held their heads down as you left. "Lord Y/n Its Pretty late for you to be out so freely. Should we escort you back to the pal-" One of them asked but got elbow'd By the other. "Forgive his insensitiveness Great dendro archon, Just let us know if you need anything." "I will. Thank you. Please Conclude the festival for today." They nodded and you then continued walking to the Sanctuary. Holding your head down slightly to avoid your citizens gaze on your way home.

You closed the door behind you, Then placed your keys by the rack. A cool breeze of lavender began to flood your sense of smell, While bells softly chimed in between the showerhead running in the distance. Some chimes we're a lower pitch while the others came from 'Hat guys' Kasa hat He hanged up besides your rack. As you walked towards your room The door was already halfway opened with your desk Freshly organized; Plenty of forums, Books marked and a Framed Picture of You and Kuni By the akademiya. A bright smile on your face. while his face was hidden behind his hat. (When you look closer there's a smudge of lipstick on his cheek). After placing your purse down, you Sat at your desk. 'A follow up on the expelled scholar, On support of a personal Account of mine.'

After what felt like hours, You finished up some work for the night. The moon's gaze was already gleaming through your side window and onto your bedsheets, practically calling out for you to take a break. You closed your folder then rested your head on the desk, Unaware of the paper which slid out. 'Lessor lord Y/n shouldn't be out so freely at this time. shut up you idiot! We'll get fired!' Why wouldnt you be out 'so freely'? You we're their archon after all. The gracious and generous archon they ever so adored, The highest authority Within their land, The savior of the aranara and Queen of the forest, The- "Assumingly Deaf Archon." A soft voice rung through your ear and you opened your eyes. "Dont tell me. You we're too 'Caught up' with whatever you we're doing to pay any attention to me calling you."

It was getting late and you we're still wearing your formal Robe and dress while he wore a lousy t-shirt and shorts with a towel wrapped around his hair, placing a mug of tea infront of you. "….Im fine Kuni, You dont have to worry about me." He scoffed then picked up the paper you dropped. Blinking and squinting his eyes at the handwriting. "A….ran..Kan- tsk Who wrote this? Their handwriting is atrocious. Even the Aranara could write better than this." Shit. You forgot to give Ata all his papers back. "Oh- It belongs to a scholar…I'll have to return it when i see him." You took the paper from kuni, Putting it back into your decorated folder. His lips curling at the bright colors. "Your still choosing to sit around with those humans all day? Couldn't they just figure out those Useless problems themselves." he dried out his hair with the towel.

--

"Its not that. I cant fully empathize with the pain and lost, they've experienced. So I want to be by their side now for recovery." "…Besides…Since you've been a good boy, you can come whenever you like." You drunk some of the tea. "A good boy?" you nodded. "A prisoner getting treated for a day out…To watch a bunch of humans Scurry around, argue, then wait in a line for your Benevolence. How childish. Id be better off listening to one of their boring lectures." Kuni Sat on your bed, Then placed the towel on your counter Next to the vase of lotus's. Despite his 'rebirth' and how he's previously 'encountered' you as a balladeer, He still saw himself as a bit of a prisoner. You didn't fully understand why he felt that way, But still chose to stay by his side as you once promised during the Joururi Incident. Doing everything in your power to help him adjust. Simply put, You we're in love with the Puppet. "Really? But i thought you liked being called my good boy?" You got up from the desk then stood infront of him, Kuni sighed and tried averting his gaze But you softly held his smooth face and planted a kiss on his lips to tease him. You began to shift onto his lap. And expected him to Shift over or complain a bit but the puppet stared into your e/c eyes with pink patches of blush on his face. He kissed you back and pulled you further into his lap. He smelled of light Lavender conditioner. "Well..Do you? Your gonna be my good boy?" You tilted your head, staring at his now perked up lips. "S-stop Calling me that."

He loved it.

His cock twitched in his pants as you chanted the nickname once more. As you climbed further to position yourself ontop of him your Cape swayed softly on his leg. "I-I told you before, Its redundant. Because im your Pri-ah~" Before he could protest again you dug into his neck and laid kissed down to his shoulder. Wanderer's hand reached to cover his mouth, muffling his soft moans while you started biting along his skin. To shift back and forth along his short's fabric, your clothed clit rubbed against his building hard on. He pulled his free along your blouse, then up to your cape, reaching recklessly for the buttons and popping one of them off until you pulled away, Ripping the fabric from his grip. "Mn mn. I changed my mind. Maybe I shouldnt call you my good boy." You shoo'd his hand away as he reached for you again. Kuni panted as he was left alone on the bed with his shirt wrinkled and neck littered in kisses. He watched as you walked towards your desk. "N-no! Wait…" He sat up while you slowly crossed your arms.

"Oh? I dont know…I'll just go finish up my work then go to bed, I'm a bit tired." You yawned and kuni knew it was fake, you we're willing to drag this out for as long as you wanted with him wrapped around your finger. But His body was already missing your warmth against his and pented up from you just biting along his neck. "P-please.." He whispered then began to dig his fingers into the sheets in frustration. But you tilted your head and pretended to not hear. "Hm? I didnt hear you Kuni?" You smirked and he gritted his teeth. "Please Darling..I want it..I cant i- I'll be a good boy- I-" Kuni fell back onto the bed as you pressed your lips against his, the both of you fell onto the pillow while you we're ontop of him. He wrapped his arms around you, Pressing your breasts against his body. The puppet panted during the intense kiss, His lips already became glossy as your tongue swirled around his and he dug his fingers in your hair. "F-fuck..More~ More please y/n~" "Theres my good boy..What more do you want~?"

"I-inside- Please~ Let me fuck you.." You smirked at his words "Your Such a filthy puppet Kuni…" You kissed him again and finally parted lips, crawling down to the visible tent in his pants. Your legs shivered a bit at the mark of his tip leaking precum that smeared onto his boxers as you pulled them down, His cock springing up near your face. "Now. You think you can be a good boy and wait?" You teased and placed kitten licks along the head of his cock. He balled his hands in a fist and nodded. You pulled his shirt up a little further, resting your free hand on the V line of his slim body. The puppet chew'd on his lip enough to draw blood, Trying to maintain the little bit of morality he still had while you bobbed up and down gently on his cock, with the head hitting your gag reflex you moaned into his cock almost in a buzzing sensation. "Fuck~!…Hnn~" Kuni's legs shifted up a bit in-between you. He was close And your clit throbbed through your cotton garments. Your mouth Popped off his cock before he could cum. "W-wha.. Shit why'd you stop?" He said through heavy breathes trying to sound demanding, But it only came out as a pathetic whimper. "Ah ah..Didnt you say you'd be patient? Im giving you your reward now."

You finally pulled your Blouse and skirt off, Giving Kuni a quick show within his lustful vision. Your slit coated the skin of his cock, with your folds smearing it further while guiding it to your pussy. 'Hah..yes please~ D-dont tease me' You sunk onto his shaft and your walls immediately rubbed on his cock, A moan spilled from your lips and your nails dug into his skin to stay in rhythm. "Kuni~ Your doing so well~ Filling me up just like that~" his hips bucked up at your praise and his pride finally slipped. "Ah~ Yes! Mommy~! S' good~ Y/-y/n Your so warm~ fuck! please please~!" He whined and began to babble while you sloshed up and down his cock, Filling the room with mixed sounds of your skin slapping together and Kuni's loud moans. The pleasure from being inside you and your praise over whelmed him. You gave him everything he's ever wanted, from a person, and especially a god. His Bangs began to turn frazzled and hid his Slashed eyeliner and now teary eyes. " Your such a pretty boy arent you kuni~? Does my- ah.. good boy want to cum~?" "Yes~ Fuck yes please! wanna cum mommy!" Kuni already started messily bucking his hips into yours to chase his high. "K~kuni Dont go so fast~ Y-your gonna make me ah~! your gonna make me cum~!" He gripped onto your hand, Intertwining it through his. then held onto your thigh with the other to plunge himself as far as he could into your warmth, repeatedly hitting your core with each thrust. "M-mommy~! i- Ah~! oh fuck!" with a few more bucks of his hips kuni slammed you into him again, whimpering as ropes of his sticky load painted your insides while your orgasm coaxed his cock.

Both your highs subsided and Kuni finally pulled out from his cock being nested inside you. His cum slowly oozing out your pussy and onto your now stained sheets. You looked down on the already fucked out puppet through heated breathes, He was utterly speechless from his orgasm and For a moment you two stayed silent, With you laying on Kuni's chest now half asleep while he ran his finger through locks of your hair. "Y/n." "Yes Kuni?" You replied and He stayed silent, As if The puppet was gathering his thoughts. "I love you." He muttered out through his now hoarse voice and let out a soft huff after hearing himself. You smiled warmly and held onto his hand, Rubbing your thumb along his ring. "I love you too."

A/N: THANK U ALL FOR BEING SO KIND. <3 Anon Im not sure if you wanted smut but I hope this was okay for a mostly fluff then smut one.

[romanreignseater]

Mr. WrestleMania

Roman Reigns x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut, smut and more smut. A little honorable mention fluff; but very brief

“After a flawless victory at his 3rd Main Event at WrestleMania, your Tribal Chief deserved three special treats.”

A/N: Had to write this in honor of our Tribal Chief retaining last night, I was real nervous, and was even setting myself up for failure. But, I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN 😭!!

GIF: @doinggreat

“Acknowledge me.” His wispy voice brought chills to your body.

“Cut! Great job baby.”

“Thank you babe, don’t forget to post that.”

Here he was, your husband, Roman Reigns. Still reigning supreme and he’s just getting started.

Whether or not people are upset Roman won, you’ll always and forever be proud of him.

Kudos to the white knight, but it wasn’t his time. “You already know how I do mama.” His hands grip your waist and a chaste kiss was placed upon your lips. Your smile as bright as ever and his eyes lighting up at your beauty.

“My Tribal Chief?” The voice of the wiseman interrupted your serene moment with your man. “Yes wiseman?”

“The Escalade is ready for you and Y/N to take you back to the hotel.” “Thanks wiseman! Now… vanish.” Your arms wrapped tightly around Roman’s right bicep. “Of course.” And with that, the wiseman was left scurrying.

“Why do you have to be so nasty to him?” Roman laughed as he witnessed you verbally abuse his special counsel. “I’m not nasty with him, but I wanna be nasty to you.” Your hands grip the neck of his shirt and your face centimeters away from his.

“Ohhh, that’s how you feel?!” Your Tribal Chief couldn’t contain his desire for your dominance.

“That’s exactly how I feel.” You said almost immediately.

His brow arched into a questioning look. “And exactly how are you gonna do that?!” A gasp slid passed your lips as he roughly pulled you in by your hips, so there was no space between you. His large hands quickly travelled down to your plump ass, which was waiting to be grasped.

His hands squeezed and released your supple cheeks as you looked him up in his eyes and bit your lip. “You haven’t answered me mama?!” Your eyes began searching his as his hands still worked their magic…

“You are an icon, you are a Hall of Famer, you are the one, and you ARE the Greatest. Of. All. Time, and that’s why you deserve to fuck my throat tonight.” Roman’s couldn’t contain his smile. By god, did he love a woman who can hype him on his accomplishments and speak so dirty to him at the same damn time.

“Reallyyyyy?! Anything else?” Your smile couldn’t contain itself either. “Why, of course there is. What kind of woman would I be if I didn’t give you a proper way to celebrate tonight’s victory?”

“So… Mrs. Reigns, in what other ways are you gonna treat me?!” Both of your smirks seemed to never falter from each others face. “Well Mr. WrestleMania… I know you love how much I taste, so I was planning for you eat my cunt with a little strawberries and whipped cream.”

Roman grunted at the thought of having you spread open with whipped cream sprawled all over your sweet cunt.

His voice became deeper and huskier, “What else?”

“What else?! Baby, you already know how I get down when I’m treating you.” You smiled.

You took care of Roman very well, at home, all over the world, and especially in the bedroom, or floor, or kitchen counter, or the living room couch. It doesn’t matter where, you knew how to please your man and make him feel like the king he already is.

You went on your tippy toes to reach his ear. “And I’m gonna ride that dick. All. The. Way. Back. Home.” You fell back on your feet to look him in his eyes and gauge his reaction. “Thanks.” His random vow of appreciation to you stumped your mind, you were confused as to what he was thanking you for.

“Ummm, for what baby?!”

“For being here for me throughout this entire journey, being by my side, and uplifting me all the way.” He walked away from you and towards the chair where his belts laid.

“This is for you, and all the work you do. And before I beat the brakes off that pussy up in that hotel room tonight, I just needed to let you know how much you mean to me and you’ve made me into the man I am today. Without no Y/N, there would be no Roman Reigns or Joe Anoa’i, and I wouldn’t be operating at this level without you, so thanks mama.”

Your eyes became misty thinking about how far he’s come and the absolute success and power he has earned. “You’re welcome baby, I really appreciate that!”

You both smiled at one another, but his faded quickly. He stepped up to as you back away, you backed away so far you hit the wall.

“I meant what I said when I’m gonna beat the brakes off of my pussy.” You gulped what felt like your last breath. As he left you breathless, he grabbed bag for you and headed toward the door.

“Shall we, my queen?”

You looked as his inviting bent arm, and nodded.

~~~~

Later on, you both arrived at the hotel after a long, hot, and steamy make out session in the back of the Escalade.

Thank god there was a curtain separating you guys from the driver.

On the 50th floor, you and your man took a shower together. Washing each others bodies, and groping one another.

But now, Roman’s ass was pressed against the bathroom counter, and you were on your knees.

You looked up at your Tribal Chief as you stroked his member and cupped his balls. “Couldn’t wait to get me up here, huh?!” Your smile couldn’t leave your face as you reminisce on the utter urgency you felt on pleasuring your man and rushing him up to the room. The elevator felt like it wasn’t going anywhere.

But soon, your smile faltered, your eyes darken, and your ministrations on his cock begin to quicken. His puffy, pink lips trapped between his pearly, white teeth as he watched you abused his cock.

Roman hissed as you roughly rubbed your thumb against his tip. “You like that daddy?!” Who am I kidding, I know you do.” Your voice set into a sultry tone wanting to seduce him as much as possible.

Your lips soon engulf the head of his dick and began suckling his sweet, fat tip. Roman’s eyes rolled to back of his head as he indulged in the savory feeling of you pleasuring him.

“Oh my god… do that shit baby girl, do that shiiitt.” His tongue passed over his top lip, and he placed his right hand on your head to fasten your movements.

You bobbed you head back and forth, as you knew the throat fucking was starting to begin.

You relaxed your throat, sat on your shins, and placed your hands on Roman’s thick thighs. Roman ceased his lean against bathroom counter and stood up straight.

“You ready baby?!” You sent for a go with a thumbs up. You felt dizzy as Roman’s huge hands were clasped against both sides of your head. Your tongue laid flat against the underside of his cock and your mouth agape.

Roman began pumping his cock in and out of your wet mouth tenderly. Your eyes hung low as you watched the sly expression on his face. “Watch my cock fuck your throat mama.” Already naked from taking a shower together, your pussy wet, and leaking onto the ground.

Your eyes transversed from his eyes to the tanned dick pumping in and out of your mouth. Roman’s left hand clamped the back of your head making a makeshift ponytail, and his right cupped underneath your chin. The inside of his thighs hit your cheeks as he brutally slammed his cock into your mouth.

You gagged, your saliva coating the entirety of his member. Your red painted nails pressed into his thighs as he held a stalemate in your throat. His eyes now set on your hands, waiting for the signal. But, your eyes deep and filled with lust, you let his cock stay still in your throat.

“F-uuuckkkk, you’re gonna let me stay in that throat baby?” Shit, he could live in there for all you care. Roman pulled his cock out of your mouth, and your hand rubbed your pussy. Collecting all of your essence, you then smear your juices all over his dick. His chest rising up and down as you sucked the head of his cock hard. He was quick to make you stand up, and pushed you towards the door.

You crawled on the bed sensually with your back arched, and your ass propped up. You quickly maneuvered to your back and spread your legs open. Your honey essence covering the expansion of your spread thighs.

“Fuckkkk, that pussy real wet for me huh?!” Your eyes shifted immediately to the strawberries and whipped room service left on the nightstand. Roman’s eyes followed and flew to the berries and cream. (I’m a little lad who loves berries and cream; I couldn’t help it 😭).

A plump, red strawberry was vastly put up against your lips. And as you opened your lips, you darted your tongue out to sensually grasp the sweet fruit. The juices burst into a flavorful explosion inside of your mouth. The whipped cream canister was shook by the Tribal Chief as he lowered his head to your cunt.

“I ain’t even have dinner yet baby, but I’m skipping straight to dessert.”

The noisy canister explodes whipped cream around your cunt, and a dollop on your clit. The can was throw across the room, and the menace immediately licked up the cream around your pussy. His tongue pointed out, scoped the cream on your clit; just narrowly hitting your sensitive spot.

His lips wrapped around his cunt ever so delightfully, and his abuse began. He lapped up your juices from your flowing center and sucked it up. “Mmmmmm.” Your lips pressed together as you revel in the pleasure. Roman continued his ministrations; continually lapping up your sweet nectar.

“Oh my god, don’t stop dadd-…” Just as you were mid sentence, Roman licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your heated clit. Your body shivered living in the sensation. “Who said I was gonna stop baby?!” His mouth enclosed your pussy as he spoke those words.

He kept licking and licking and licking your sensitive, pulsing clit. “Hol-yyyy shittt, right there, *grunt*, right FUCKING there!” Your legs quaked as your climax took over you. As you were catching your breath, the Tribal Chief stole it with a heavy kiss. The dizzy feeling in your head didn’t prolong when Roman soon dragged your legs to the edge of the bed.

He spread them all the way open, almost ready to dive in again. But, you stopped him.

“Baby… I told you I was gonna ride yo ass all the way back home, and I meant what I said.” His hands lifted up in surrender and marched his way to the middle of the large hotel bed.

Your thighs encased each side of his and you lowered yourself onto his cock. You both moaned as you ease his length into your throbbing cunt. “I’m gonna take you there baby.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Taking his words as a threat you began pounding onto your man’s lap, taking his dick real good. As you rode him, you made sure to squeeze his dick with your pussy to increase the pleasure and pressure. You pushed him to lay flat on the bed and kept your hands on his burly chest. You rode him faster and faster; his teeth clenched together enjoying the moment of ecstasy.

“Mmmmm, ride that fuckin’ dick mama.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and slammed yourself continuously on his member. Roman grabbed two handfuls of your ass and guided your rough fucking session. Your moans booming through the room and the wet slapping sounds clouded the air. Roman’s eyes hit the back of his head as he reached his high.

His cum filled up your entire pussy as you released as well. You got off of Roman and cuddled up to his side. “That was exactly what I needed after today.” You caressed his beard and stared at him lovingly. “It’s what you deserve.”

Your smiles heavy as you both drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

Then. Now. Forever. Together

THE END!!

MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @alyanarossi @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce

[uplatterme]

Cherry Wine

—sub!kaeya/dom!reader, transmasc!kaeya/gn!reader | implied fwb relationship, fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort | mentioned nipple play, fingering (kaeya!receiving), edging, semi-public handjob (kaeya!receiving), mention of kaeya’s tcock like once though anatomy is kept pretty vague and gender-neutral

—kinda based on cherry wine by grentperez, that song has been on replay for days.

It’s not unusual for the Knights of Favonius to have these sorts of events, gatherings were held to provide some sort of bonding amongst other knights. A teambuilding activity, if you will.

He holds a glass of dandelion wine and the aroma reminds him of his…The smell reminds him of Angel’s Share and the said owner of that bar who isn’t here, and what he wouldn’t give to be in his position.

He stands idly in a secluded space, not wanting to catch the attention of the others who seem to be having a much more enjoyable time than he is.

His eyes wander around, examining his colleagues and other guests socializing.

The Cavalry Captain spots you and then out of nowhere, his hand is moving on its own, forcing him to drink the rest of the alcohol to hide the creeping blush starting to show on his face.

He turns around and faces the wall which is probably more suspicious than him just standing there alone, now that he thinks about it. However, he’d rather be caught dead than have you say something about him staring at you.

See, conversing with you isn’t really a problem. After all, you two have been friends ever since and even perform some acts that the average friendship doesn’t usually account for. Suffice to say, the knight trusts you a lot.

However, Kaeya might have stepped over that line a week ago…which is why he’s ignoring every letter you’ve sent to him. 

My Kaeya, I apologize for not meeting up with you lately. I have been stumped with the new work that Jean has assigned me for the rest of the week. Here are some flowers that I’ve gathered while I’m out in Liyue. I hope they won’t wither by the time you get this letter. I miss you.

He internally screams once he remembers the contents of that letter. A lovely bouquet of qingxin, one which he immediately freezes to keep alive for as long as he possibly can. You were really too nice of a friend to him.

You’ve always referred to him as “My Kaeya” ever since the first letter you formally sent. So he assumes it’s a friendly term to refer to him, something that he shouldn’t read further into if he doesn’t want to get his feelings hurt.

Also, it may or may not be his fault that you were assigned that many workloads from Jean…

He already messed up last week.

He tried to forget about it, but it’s impossible to forget when your fingers were inside of him, his juices soaking the sheets while your tongue had its way with his chest, nibbling his nipples just the way he likes them as your saliva trails down from his scars to his stomach.

It wasn’t even that bad. Literally, there were worse times when you two got at it like two wolves in heat, yet somehow that was when his mind just decided to spew out those three specific words.

He sounded like he was enjoying himself on a honeymoon with his newlywed. What was he thinking… he could have moaned out literally anything else. Hell, he would have rather moaned out in Khaenri’ahn for fucks sake. 

Yet he didn't, he said something much idiotic.

He can’t even say it in his mind right now, he’s far too embarrassed.

Kaeya is uncertain whether you heard him or not. He didn’t see you respond strangely at all, so is it possible you were too focused? Or maybe you did, and he just didn’t notice because he climaxed right after that mishap of his…

He’s hoping it’s the former.

He fidgets with the glass in his hand, breathing to calm himself down before turning around again. 

“Hi.”

Kaeya’s heart jumps at the sight of you being so near to him. How long have you been there to begin with?

“Hello.” He replies as cooly as he can, averting his gaze away from you.

“I’m back.”

“I see that.” Archons, what is he saying?

“Are you—” 

You cut yourself off, pursing your lips and giving him a smile before continuing. He’s seconds away from just bolting out of here.

“Did you like the flowers?”

“I did.” He answers.

“Good.” 

And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the hired musicians changes the current music playing to a more…romantic one.

That’s fine. He’s good at these kinds of things.

Kaeya shoves any sign of embarrassment or nervousness away and looks straight at you directly. You must have drank a lot, the dilation in your eyes makes it easy to tell.

“Care for a dance?” You invited.

“My, are you sure you can keep up?” He bites back.

“Probably not, but if it prevents you from standing by yourself then I’ll dance with you as long as I can.”

The genuineness of your words always manages to stir him up.

Kaeya laughs. “I see you’ve had much to drink.”

“Sure, something like that.” He catches a grin from you despite the way you bow at him.

He shakes his head, offering his hand in front of you. There’s a slightly noticeable tremble his hand makes but you place your hand onto his, keeping him still.

“I’m afraid a simple waltz is all I can do, I’m no Eula.” You admit.

“It’s fine. I’ll lead.” Kaeya says, trying to act as confidently as he can. 

“Alright then, Captain.”

His arm wraps around your waist as you place your hand on his shoulder. His breathing staggers but he tries to focus on the music and his feet, swaying you along with him. He dances gracefully, of course. Not that it’s surprising as he grew up in the Ragnvindr household.

He knows people are watching, he doesn’t meet their faces or yours.

“Kaeya.” You speak.

He raises his head. It’s bad etiquette to not look at the one you’re dancing with, though he hopes he can be forgiven just this once.

“Can we talk after this?”

He loses track of the time and his body moves as if it’s on autopilot. He only realizes that the music has stopped and so does he, when the people around him are clapping.

Kaeya faces you again, unsure of what to do. 

All of the sudden, his body is being dragged away to a more quiet spot, Your hand gripping his wrist. The balcony provides room for the two of you, the rest of the party being hidden away by the fancy curtain.

“Are you cold?” You ask.

The breeze is a bit shivering but he’s used to the cold due to the cryo vision he holds. 

“I’m fine.” 

He hears you sigh, as if that answer he’s given you was somehow wrong. You grab a flask from the inside of his blazer, taking a swig before handing it to him.

Kaeya smells the alcohol and he worries. “More alcohol?”

“It’s my first drink tonight.”

He doubts that, although he finds that there’s no reason for you to lie.

So, why do you keep giving him those eyes?

Kaeya gives in, drinking the rest. Warmth grows on his face and he’s unsure whether it’s from the wine or the fact that your mouth was just on the flask.

“This is new.” He examines it with a closer look.

“Cherry Wine. Diluc gave it to me, apparently it’s from a merchant he met.”

Kaeya chuckles. “I see you’ve been conspiring with my brother.”

There’s jealousy obvious when he says that, but who was he to be jealous? The line of friendship becomes more and more obscured.

“Well, unlike someone. He actually finds time to reply to my letters.”

“You’re mad.” He points out.

“Here I thought you were too dense to even notice that.” 

You close the distance between you two, his hands holding on the railings of the balcony as your hand steadies his back, kissing him deeply and much longer than any of the kisses you’ve given him.

His heart thumps from his chest, wanting more of your lips when you separate from him.

“Say it again. Tell me I didn’t mishear.” You plead.

“I…What?” You did hear him.

“Do I have to fuck it out of your mouth again?”

“Sweetheart, we’re in public. Gods, how strong is that wine—hey, wait!”

Your hand slips down his pants, palming the growing erection from under. Kaeya bites the back of his hand, your hand stroking his hardened tcock while you observe his face with a stern look.

“C-Come on, I really didn’t say anything.” He says, halfway between a soft whine and a cry.

“Captain, I didn’t take you for a liar and a coward.”

He’s dripping wet, he knows by the way the cloth sticks to the skin on his thigh. The pace you’re going at is undeniably slow, and he knows you won’t let him finish if he doesn't say those words again.

“Please?” Kaeya begs. It’s been a week without your touch and frankly, it’s a week too long.

“It’s admirable how you’d rather have me pleasure you like this in front of everybody rather than just admitting it.”

The knight knows that he’s enjoying this far more than he should be and that it’s the only thing worth remembering about this gathering.

And then your hand grips him tighter and his legs quiver, cursing your name out in a breathy moan. 

“What’s wrong? Poor Captain wants to cum, does he?” You tease.

“You ass.”

His thighs rub together, wanting more of that extra friction. He admits that the action is quite humiliating, though if there’s a way to get himself off without confessing his feelings for you, then he’ll gladly do that.

“No. Spread them apart.” You ordered.

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

He follows through, a squeaky whimper escaping his throat.

“So desperate, My Kaeya.”

His foot almost missteps when he feels the warmth from one of your fingers slowly penetrating him. Oh fuck, you cannot be serious.

He throws his head back as you continue to explore more of his insides. And just like before, you’re meticulously playing with him just so he breaks apart.

“I already said please.”

“And it’s appreciated, dear. But that’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“Fuck…hn, you—”

He stays a wreck like that for a few minutes, not being allowed the permission to cum from your fingers. Why do you want him to say it that bad anyways? Do you really want to reject him like this? Right now?

Kaeya’s body feels heavy.

He’s close, oh so close. 

His nails dig into the skin of his palms, he hears the inside get quieter and for a second, he assumes that it’s because of how he’s gasping and panting because of you.

He shakes those thoughts, knowing how loud the music and gossiping of the knights must be.

“Do you not like me?” You blurt out.

What an absurd question. Why do you think he’s letting you do this?

“Am I too pushy, Kaeya?” 

Your words are contrasting your actions far too differently. Your fingers start to get rougher, he’s painfully hard and he just wants to—He can’t—he physically cannot hold it any longer.

The mention of your name is indistinguishable from a slobbering baby, he holds your waist again although for a particularly different reason this time.

It’s so cheesy how he gets so lovesick whenever he cums.

“I-I love you.”

His entire body collapses into an orgasm. He sobs onto your chest, he’s unsure whether it’s because of how fucking good that felt or the forthcoming response you’ll give as he’s finally admitted it.

What he didn’t expect however, is the fact that it’s not only his face that’s soaking from tears.

“I hate you.” You say.

There’s a hurt in his chest and he wants to take it back but what’s already been said is right there. He wants to apologize. It’s his fault after all for thinking anybody would think of him as anything more than a friend, for catching feelings—

His thoughts are silenced as you kiss him once more, it only lasts for a few and he’s left stunned as to why you would do that.

“I thought you finally caught on. I was so happy when you said you love me, I was caught off guard,”

You take a deep breath, calming yourself.

“And then, you decide to avoid me?! I even sent you qingxin, and you know I don’t like high places!”

…

“You like—no, you love me?” Kaeya states, the thought seems way too unbelievable.

“Obviously! Who in their right mind would address their friend as theirs?” You spat back.

You groan, pushing his already weak body away.

“I love you too, Kaeya. Don’t do that again, okay? You worried the shit out of me.”

“I…Okay. I won’t, I promise.”

He starts walking towards you shakily before pulling you into a tight hug. 

It’s a strange hug. The breeze is far too cold, your clothes are now sticky, and both of your eyes are red from crying. 

Yet somehow, it’s comforting.

It’s perfect.

[bedoballoons]

Taking a break from Christmas event cause it's wearing me out a little, gonna work on requests so I can hopefully get them open soon!!

I have been so excited for this one, like it's just such a creative idea and I'm so so sorry you had to wait so long for me to write it @delicatefestivalcreator , I hope you still enjoy anyway! >///<

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~Courage and cowardice~༺}

CW: GN! Reader, mentions of the reader being a little bit scared at first, but growth and bravery in the end~

(Includes: Lyney, Neuvillette, Freminet, and Wriothesley!)

𑁍༄Lyney:

"L-lyney, are you sure they aren't following us? What if they are secretly a assassin? They were sent out to kill as many fatui as they can because one fatui agent killed the assassins brother! They could hunt you down and Lynette and Frem-"

"Oh love, they are just out to get some coffee, look." Lyney chuckled at you, pulling you close so you could follow his line of sight...upon closer inspection, the person really did just seem like they wanted a nice cup of coffee.

"Oh..my bad..."

"Sweetheart, the worlds not always out to get you, I promise and even if someone tried...I'm here to keep you safe and I can protect myself too. I appreciate your concern, but you don't have to be so scared. I will never let anything bad happen to you." You turned to face him, letting his words sink in as he kissed your lips softly. Somehow, knowing that he'd always keep you safe...it made all those worries seem nonexistent...even made you feel a little braver.

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

"What if I get trialed...it's a false accusation, but they have fabricated the evidence and convinced the oratrice of my guilt. I get the death sentence...or if I don't, they find a way to kill me while in the fortress!" You shuddered at the thought, scooching closer to Neuvillette as the two of you sat in the opera house. You'd asked to see it...even planned to talk with him about how trials go, but being inside the place made you more aware of how terrifying it would be to be in the guilty persons place.

"Please, do not fear such things. I would find the means to prove your innocence, even if it meant resigning from my place as chief of justice." He kissed the top of your head, silently wondering what it would be like if he did resign..if all that time that normally went into trails was spent with you instead...perhaps there wouldn't be so many rainy days.

"I could never ask you do to that!"

"...I don't believe I ever said you'd have to. Just know that I would never loose you so easily."

"...never?"

"Never."

𑁍༄Wriothesley:

"Has he killed someone? W-what about her?? Wrio, are you sure I should be here? What if someone sees us together and tries to kill me to get to you?! Or what if they use you to get information out of me, like tell us his the code to his safe or he gets it!" Your bit your nails, your eyes frantically scanning every prisoner that walked by you, why had you come to the fortress again??

"Actually, hes here because he beat up a man who'd bullied multiple Melusines and she's here because she stole a bag for her sibling cause she couldn't afford to buy it for them. Sometimes, people do bad things for the right reasons, that doesn't make them good, but it doesn't necessarily make the bad either." He waved at them both as you followed close behind, seems your mind had gotten the better of you yet again...but knowing they weren't murderers didn't make the fortress less scary.

"There are killers here though...how can I not be afraid?"

He paused midstep, making you bump into his back...had your words stumped him?

"I'm a killer, but you seem perfectly content being around me." Those words were on your mind all day...he was a killer, but you seemed perfectly content around him. Others were easily afraid of him and yet you never were, so maybe the fears you had were never really that scary at all.

𑁍༄Freminet:

"Freminet! I-im scared! What if something's under my feet!" You struggled to keep yourself afloat on the oceans surface, suddenly regretting joining him for a swim...he always made the water sound like home, but the idea of something lurking beneath the waves or getting stuck somewhere and never being found..."F-freminet!!"

"Hey calm down, it's okay." He wrapped his arms around you, keeping you afloat while his cheeks turned a rosey hue, "Do you trust me?" You bit your bottom lip, staring into his eyes as you contemplated that question...of course you trusted him, but the rest of the world was up from debate..

"Yes...I, I trust you."

He kissed your forehead and softly pulled you under the surface of the water, for a second you thought you were going to panick...but you forgot all about your worries. Fish of every colour and plants you'd never seen...bubbles floating softly to the surface and sparkling shells catching your eye. It was more beautiful than words could describe...and for once, not a single thing scared you.

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

[stardustpinkart]

Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.

Adam nodded, grinning. "It's fun, I really like it. I think it sounds nice... Um- ... I'm sorry, which one are you?" Lucifer tilted his head and laughed lightly. "Lucifer. I usually stay as a snake when I enter the garden?" The man perked up. "Oh yeah! The white one! I'm Adam!"

Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the human's enthusiasm. He adored it to be honest. "Trust me, we all know who you are. How are you enjoying life so far?" "Oh, I really like it! I like learning new things about myself. So far I've learned that I like sweet things, like fruit, and soft things like those other horse things- with the.. branches.. on their heads?" "Deer?" "Yeah, deer, I like those."

The angel smiled along with Adam, just as excited as he was about his discoveries. "You wanna know what else is soft? Here, I think you'll like it." He extended one of his wings out for Adam to feel, accidentally brushing it against his side. The human jumped and covered his side, a surprised grin spreading across his face followed by a sweet sounding giggle.

Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"

The angel grinned, excitedly. "Lift your arms a little bit, I'll show you." Adam did as he was told, lifting his arms up. Again, Lucifer extended his wings, gently brushing them against Adam's sides. The human snorted and slammed his arms down, laughing. Lucifer pulled his wings back to avoid having them stuck under Adam's arms, instead reaching out and gently digging into the sides of his tummy.

Adam shrieked and threw his head back, laughing. Not wanting to overwhelm him, Lucifer slowed to a stop, and pulled his hands back. After a moment of giggling and catching his breath, the human looked back up at the angel, sitting up and smiling.

"Can you do that again?" -------------------------------------------

Based on this cute lil fic I found on Tumblr :) Theres an abudance of Hazbin stuff at the mo, a lot of it really good!

Its nice to think how it might have been in the early days. I grew up catholic, schools and the like(though we didnet really go to church or anything) so I know a few bits. The basic stories, Adam and eve, etc. I believe Lucifer was gods most beloved angel, even had a diffrent name, untill he fell. And that supposedly it hurt him terribly when his beloved angel did.

So since Hazbin already has an alternate lore, what REALLY happened in the beggining. I'm sure Adam would be a lot more innocent to begin with, more pleasant, after all, being nearly made, exploring LIFE. The worst aspects maybe came later especially if heaven and its angels overlypraised him, "Adam could do NOTHING wrong", which led to his arrongance and rudeness and cruelty. Perhaps in the beggining, Lucifer and Adam were even friends? It was later events that changed all that.

There is NO sexual themes here, just that of COURSE, Adam and Eve were naked in the garden. They coevered themsleves in leaves in shame after eating the fruit of knowledge right?

I was stumped for colours cuz, they do seem to vary. Like, Sir pentious, his new form was a lot less scary and threatening in heaven. SO I figured, when he was still alive and just starting in the world, he would have a more mortal colour scheme yeah? As would Lucifer have a softer angelic colour scheme back then

I really enjoyed drawing this :)

[snozzlefrog]

Working on the assumption most people aren't reading kid's puzzle books (although it is a pretty fun, more relaxed time if you fancy it!), I've compiled a list of main series related observations. Please only read if you don't mind spoilers - and the kids aren't mentioned much since they are Jr originals.

The book seems to take place between books 1 and 2 (plausibly could be during book 1, but unlikely)

Many of the events of book 2 and 3 were in motion beforehand, especially with Tekco

Rose, Raspberry and Indigo all have kids - Indigo's specifically is Olivia, one of the main detectives

This means Logico helped murder his junior employee's dad during book 3 (ouch)

Applegreen, Lapis, Saffron and Ruby work in the same school, alongside Raspberry Jr

Emerald and Earl Grey are neighbours

Logico seems to be a bit famous now, at least enough for strangers to recognise him and to be signing stuff

The Detective club is really well funded, and Logico appears to be in a high-up role, if not the president

Irratino is a "pretty swell" Uncle (likely a second cousin rather than secret sibling)

Irratino is consequently pretty good with kids

Logico is TERRIBLE with kids

Irratino has multiple classic secret levers and switches installed for secret rooms and passages in the II (something we'd all probably do with comical amounts of money to be fair)

Irratino has great memory, and has the entire Institute memorised (which may also be how he can navigate the impossible maze with little trouble)

While it's no surprise, Irratino is confirmed as a habitual wonderer and prone to boredom (AuDHD king)

Irratino is similar to Logico in that he likes being included as a suspect when relevant

Logico either does a decent amount of undercover work, or has a LOT of side jobs

Logico earns what I believe is his first colour association - marzipan! (Suitably beige in my opinion)

At least two of the four detectives don't recognise Logico with a very mild change in appearance (mustache and hat) but clearly know who he is - either face blindness is super common in Murdle, or Logico is gathering an army of specifically autistic children

Logico has a houseboat (unclear if it's a full-time home or for the case - I like to imagine it is indeed his)

Logico is good with computers - at least good enough to stump a tech prodigy

Logico is kinda bad at tone/jokes

The DC and II seem to be at least a little linked together now - Logico tries to recruit two of the kids at the II, and Irratino helps with a DC training exercise as a "favour"

The II has at least one other branch, on the Violet Isles

A funny possible plot hole - Logico knew at least part of SPY was corrupt before the events of book 3 (between that and SoM, I'm starting to think Logico got hit a bit too hard during chessboxing - that or I'm checking timelines in a children's book)

Logico not only successfully pulls off the patented Tino-death-trick, but Irratino (presumably) fails to pull off the same trick

Logico is, and I cannot overstate this, the dopiest, most awkward motherfucker on the planet. Seriously, it's so funny seeing him without his internal dialogue colouring all his actions. It's like if Columbo was actually Like That. He thinks he's super cool and awesome and he's actually Laios from dunmeshi (AuDHD king). He's smart in the logic department but the rest of his brain is empty.

NO BUT SERIOUSLY. He earnestly does the Perry the Platypus disguise TWICE. He wears his hat under a second hat in case he needs to do a dramatic reveal. He lets children go to a wartorn country and solve several murders with no plan while believing that this is a totally planned excursion. HE HIRES A CAT. HE LETS A SMALL CHILD BELIEVE HE IS GONNA BE A DETECTIVE BEFORE GOING "oh no sorry that's for the cat, welcome to the force Mr McPaws" WITH GENUINE SERIOUS INTENTIONS.

If I'm honest, I think the cat might be the smartest detective there (including the adults)